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1kook · 3 years

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commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly.

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking.

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot.

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment.

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon.

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now.

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway.

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.”

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds.

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims.

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay?

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.”

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks.

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off.

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.”

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line.

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.”

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain.

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him.

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.)

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.”

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you.

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you.

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

#networkbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #mine

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jaeminlore · 3 years

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Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham. Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#Nct fluff #nct fanfiction #Nct angst #Nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #destwrites

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yayeetsonny · 3 years

Text

Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

Not edited.

#uswnt imagines #uswnt #christen press #alex morgan #imagines #uswnt x reader #megan rapinoe #ashlyn harris #ali krieger #tobin heath #lindsey horan #emily sonnett #mal pugh #The rest of the team will appear #baby reader #USWNT

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ttuesday · 3 years

Note

How would the VDL gang comfort/cuddle you if you had a bad day?

also have this fluffy foal 🐴

yay I love fluffy foal!!!! Since we all have bad days, I decided to do a little more than usual for this one so yeah this’ll probably be longer than usual :)

Arthur

-> The second Arthur sees you, he knows something went wrong but he waits until you’re away from the others to talk to you. In a low voice, Arthur asks if you want to go somewhere private before guiding you to his tent or to the outskirts of camp.

-> He doesn’t mind if you don’t tell him what’s bothering you or what made today so terrible. Without saying a word, Arthur wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug.

-> He slowly starts to stroke your hair and tell you that no matter what the problem is, you’ll figure it out.

-> Arthur reminds you of how strong you are and asks if you want to go do something with him tomorrow, whether that be robbing a stagecoach or drinking in a saloon or just going for a ride along the Heartlands. Whatever you want to do, Arthur will go along with it.

Dutch

-> Dutch asks to speak to you in his tent, pretending he needs your opinion on some upcoming robbery but when he closes his tent off to the others, he lets out a sigh and gives you a sympathetic smile.

-> “Want to talk about it?” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed. He understands if you stay quiet, not too sure of how to explain your bad day.

-> Dutch opens his mouth to say a quote from Evelyn Miller he thinks you might find interesting but he hesitates. He knows quotes won’t help right now and so instead he shuffles closer to you, putting his arm around your waist.

-> He’ll let you cuddle into him and he won’t move an inch until you’re feeling a little bit better, even if that takes all night.

Charles

-> Charles doesn’t really know what to do or say. But he believes that some times you don’t need words.

-> Whether you want to sit by the campfire or away from the centre of camp, Charles stays by your side. He knows you probably have some thinking to do so he stays quiet, a comfortable silence falling over ye.

-> Of course if you want to talk or rant, Charles will listen intently, taking in every word you say and every expression you make. And if there’s anything he can do to help, he instantly suggests it to you.

Bill

-> Bill isn't great with words. Everyone knows that. So don't expect him to give you this great motivational speech that will give you high hopes and make you feel like you a superhero.

-> Chances are Bill will just start rambling about something random like how he’s thinking of buying a new saddle for Brown Jack or how he found a piece of chocolate in his beard the other day.

-> His ramblings are a good distraction and Bill has no problem if you want to lean against him as he continues to talk. He’s very warm and cozy so it makes sense if you fall asleep on him.

Javier

-> Javier will try his absolute best to make you feel better. He spends the evening comforting you as best he can and if you still feel bad, he’ll suggest the two of you go on a job.

-> He knows of a homestead you can both rob, it’s easy pickings and he hopes it will help you focus on something and lift your spirits.

-> Who knows, maybe ye can spend the night there to have a break from everything. Javier will spend the night spooning you and whispering his favourite things about you into your ear... though he might ask to be the baby spoon at some point during the night.

Micah

-> Micah suggests that you have a drink with him in the hopes that’ll make your day a bit better. As you sit down at one of the tables at camp, Micah brings over a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

-> He can be very blunt so don’t expect a lot of great comfort or immaculate advice but he will listen to everything you say. Even if he acts like he isn’t listening, believe me, he is.

-> Towards the end of the night when he’s feeling a little more confident than usual (thank u alcohol) he’ll offer you a comfortable seat on his lap. Really he just wants to cuddle in the hopes it’ll lift both of ye’re moods.

John

-> John can be kinda hopeless in situations like this. He’s very awkward but if you need a hug or someone to talk to or a cuddle, then he’s happy to help.

-> If you start to cry, there’s a possibility John will die of awkwardness because he doesn’t know what to do or how to react. His brain may go into shutdown mode.

-> but he will stay there with you for as long you want him there. And he’ll try his best to make you smile again, whether it be with a cuddle, kiss or his dry sense of humour.

Sean

-> Sean's angry. Not at you, he could never truly be mad at you, but Sean presumes your bad day is someone's fault. Before you can explain why you've had a bad day, Sean's loading his revolver and whistling Ennis over so he can go shoot whoever has upset you.

-> If you want him to go kill someone then off he'll go on his mission but if you need him by your side, he can do that too. Because this is Sean, he basically clings to you as he fusses over you.

-> This man will spend the entire night giving you kisses, cuddles, maybe something more *wink wink*. He’ll give you the best advice he can think of and whatever else you need in the moment.

Lenny

-> Lenny hates it when you've had a bad day. He never wants to see you upset or sad, it breaks his heart to see you like that.

-> He gives you a long hug, slightly swaying from side to side. He's also really eager to help you in anyway he can. Want to go on a job to take your mind off it? Let's go. Need someone to tell you you’re an amazing person? He's confident he'll do a great job at that.

-> Be warned though, Lenny can be an emotional fella. So if you start crying, he might start crying too just because you're crying.

Uncle

-> Everyone knows Uncle likes to joke around. When things get tough, he likes to make a joke and laugh about it.

-> So when he heard you had a bad day, he tried to lighten the mood with some jokes. He makes jokes about himself, your shitty day, anyone who passes by and Dutch's speeches.

-> If the jokes aren't working then Uncle tries to say something genuine but he can't help himself and gives it a comedic spin at the end. But he hopes you know he really meant the genuine part.

Trelawny

-> When Trelawny hears you're having a bad day, he doesn't think it's anything to worry about. He thinks he can cheer you up with some magic.

-> He puts on a small show for you, making birds magically appear and finding a bouquet of flowers behind your ear. But Trelawny knows that isn't enough.

-> He sits down next to you and asks if you want to talk. Trelawny is one of the best listeners in camp, he'll listen and try his best to comfort you in whatever way you want. He'll even ask if you want to pet one of his birds.

Hosea

-> No matter what your problem is or whether you want to talk about it or not, Hosea sits down with you. His first concern is to try and make you feel as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

-> He will bring you whatever you want, go wherever you feel most comfortable. Anything you need, he will try his best to provide.

-> If you need to have a good cry, Hosea hands you his handkerchief and tells you to let it all out. There’s no point in hiding your emotions now and he assures you that tomorrow will be a better day.

Tilly

-> Tilly’s great because she’ll let you vent about your bad day but she also knows when to stop you. She wants the best for you and won’t let you rant all day about pointless things.

-> If you start to spiral, she stops you and tells you to let it go. You’ve complained about your shitty day but it’s important not to dwell on it.

-> Before ending the conversation, Tilly gives you a firm but understanding hug and lets you know that she’s here for you if you have another bad day.

Sadie

-> Sadie can put up with a lot of life’s shit. But seeing you upset and feeling miserable? It makes her feel frustrated and pissed off.

-> She’s had some terrible days so she knows the best thing to do is get a blanket, a hot drink and bring you somewhere quiet. Sadie wraps the blanket around you and sits with you.

-> She brushes your hair with her fingers and she softly asks you how you are. It’s strange to hear Sadie talk so softly but in a way it shows you how much she cares and wants to help

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ijwrsmff · 3 years

Note

Can I request the fluff alphabet for Kokichi? All of it, if you can. Thank you :)

Here you go! Hope you like it! I have such a love hate relationship with this boy XD

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

He likes to play games! Video games, card games, board games, he doesn’t really care. He especially likes ones that he’s better than you at. He does like to win, afterall.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Determination. If you’re determined, no matter what it may be for, he respects it. He loves nothing more than to see you work at what you’re passionate about. He may not HELP you to learn it, but he does enjoy sitting and watching you put in the work.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack/etc.?)

He’s...not very good at comforting you. He tries, he really does, but often he’ll make jokes to make you laugh...but sometimes you’re really not in the mood to laugh so it comes across as insensitive.

D-Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o?)

He’s already planned your future in 50 different scenarios. He’ll make you look at each and every one of them until you pick one you like. Then? He’ll do anything in his power to make it happen.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in their relationship or are they more passive?)

He likes to be in charge, but occasionally he’d like you to make the choices. Little stuff, he’ll always be in charge. Stuff like what you’re going to eat he will always choose, but bigger decisions like what kind of car you’ll buy...he’d rather you make the choice. Though he will make his stance clear no matter who will be making the decision.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

He would never get physical with you, but he would yell. A lot. Especially if he feels like he’s being ignored. He really...really can’t stand the feeling of being ignored. He’s always ready to fight, but tries to calm himself down before it escalates to that. It doesn’t work every time...but sometimes it does when he’s in a particularly good mood.

G-Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

He often takes things for granted. Especially in the beginning of the relationship. But once you become more intimate with each other he spends every day thinking about how lucky he is to have you.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Soooooo many secrets. About what he does, how he’s feeling, sometimes even if he’s unhappy with something you did. He’ll keep it all a secret and avoid your questions by asking another question to throw you off.

I-Inspiration (Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You really change each other. He makes you feel grateful for what you have, and you make him feel grateful for...well everything. If he didn’t have you, he wouldn’t have near the drive to accomplish things relating to his ultimate.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

God...he gets so jealous. He doesn’t show it, but even you talking to other people can sometimes send a ping of jealousy right to his heart. He’ll laugh about it and join in on whatever conversation you’re having, sending a warning glare to whoever you were talking to. Now if someone was flirting with you...he’d go eerily quiet. He’d pull you away from that person and send a glare their way...but only in his eyes. His signature grin will be on his face the whole time, which is somehow scarier.

K-Kiss (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

He’d initiate your first kiss rather quick. He likes to show how he’s feeling with actions rather than words, so kisses will be frequent. As for how good he is...well he’s had SOME practice. He’s a very enthusiastic kisser if anything and that makes up for any lack of skill.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

“Y/n~” He would lean in close, making a blush form on your cheeks, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“You have a not so secret admirer~”

You would pause, not knowing if this was another one of his games.

You finally caved and asked “who?”

That’s when he leans up and kisses your cheek.

“Me! That’s who! You must be so happy to know your obvious feelings for me are returned!”

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

At first he is 100% against marriage. But...after getting closer to you his views have changed. Now...he actually has hope for the future as long as you’re in it. He would make a grand display of his proposal, going to the fanciest restaurant. He would tap his wine glass, just to get everyone’s attention. When things quiet down he’ll stand in front of you, looking more hesitant than you’ve ever seen him as.

“Marry me!” He would proclaim before putting on the ring before you had the chance to respond.

“Oh, it’s okay you don’t have to say it. I know you’ll say yes.”

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He plays around with nicknames frequently, trying out each and every one he can think of and taking note of the ones that worked the best on you. His personal favorite is darling. He likes that it shows how dear you are to him.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?)

He buys you a lot...a LOT of things. You mentioned something the day before? Oh look it’s on your doorstep. He catches you looking at something in one of the store windows? He’s dragging you in to buy it. This makes it rather obvious when he’s in love because you will always be wearing SOMETHING he bought you. Be it a new shirt or jewelry, whatever makes you happy.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

He’s very upfront. He’ll let anyone and everyone know that you’re his. He’s yours too but...he would never admit to it. He would kiss you if you were on stage in front of a thousand people. He doesn’t care what others think, he just likes to show you’re together.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship?)

He’s a good leader, so if anything began to bother you he would take control with no hesitation. This has helped in many ways, ranging from wanting to leave an event to indecision about a major matter.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliche or rather creative?)

He CAN be romantic. But he has to be in a good mood. Usually...you put him in that good mood. Other days he’s not up to it at all. He won’t even want to cuddle on the bad days, even if he knows it would really help.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?)

He may not help, but he’ll keep you company while you work/study. Though...often times he’s more of a distraction than not. “Y/N! Play with me!”

“Not now i’m working/studying.”

“Aw, you’re no fun! Fine! I’ll go keep myself entertained then.”

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice up their relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?)

He loooooves to try new things. New restaurants, a new game that was just released, any date ideas you bring up, he’ll try anything once.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

He isn’t very empathetic, and he doesn’t know EVERYTHING about you. But every once in a while he’ll surprise you by bringing up something you had talked about months ago. When you tell him something about yourself...he’ll remember it forever.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What’s it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

His crew comes first, no questions asked. He’ll pester you to join as well, he sees it as combining his two favorite things.

W-Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon)

He cuddles you in his sleep. Even on days he won’t want to cuddle, once he’s asleep he’s entirely wrapped around you.

X-Xoxo (are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He likes to show his affection through touch, and it’s near constant. Hand holding, arm around your waist or shoulders, even just sitting as close to you as possible so your sides touch. He kisses you many...many times a day. It’s one of his favorite ways to show he cares.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

He’s an absolute wreck without you. When you’re gone he’ll text you a million times about random stuff. Sometimes it’s weird facts he learned, others are over-exaggerated stories of things he’s done with his crew.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for their relationship? If so, what kind of?)

He would fight someone for you. He would risk his own life...just for a chance to get back at anyone who hurt you. Now...he wouldn’t leave his crew even if you desperately wanted him to, but he’d make you second in command if you ever wanted to join.

#kokichi oma x reader #kokichi x reader #x reader #dr3 #dr3 x reader

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yuzukult · 4 years

Text

effortlessly, the epilogue (m) || jjk & reader

title: effortlessy, the epilogue pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 5.6k genre: the after high school :) + my infamous poorly written smut a/n: it’s shorter than intended but... it’s out guys! because someone asked me when I planned on posting this and I thought that I was the only one who cared about this epilogue. ;u; Thanks for mentioning it to me, because it motivated me to write it again. Enjoy! series masterlist can be found here

"I want to take care of the planet like Greta Thunberg!"

"Noooo, wouldn't you want to be something cooler? Like a soccer player? How about Lionel Messi?"

"Forget soccer! I want to do something even better... make computers like Steve Jobs!"

One of the children frowns, shoulders slouching in disappointment and frustration of his classmates. Leaning down, you brush away the bangs that cover his eyes, gently pinching his chubby cheeks full of love and care. "What's wrong, Jaemin?"

"I don't want to be like Greta Thunberg or Lion Messi or Steve Work!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air.

"It's Lionel Messi and Steve Jobs, Jaemin!"

"Okay, okay," You say soothingly, hands cupping and thumbs rubbing against the flesh of his cheeks delicately. "That's fine, Jaemin, you don't have to be like those people if you don't want to. You can choose whatever profession you want, and whomever you want it to be like."

"I want to be a swimmer, like Jeon Jungkook!"

"Mm," You hum, tapping your finger against your chin as if you're pondering about Jaemin's idea. "You could, if you'd like. Have you ever met Jeon Jungkook before?"

"No," He pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in dismay. "But momma showed me videos of hyung online and he seems like a very kind person." Nodding, your hands fall into the ones of Jaemin's, swaying your arms together to calm his nerves. Children tend to be very emotional, you learn after the many years of experience with them, and Jaemin is no exception. Finding ways to tame their anxiousness was the true challenge. "Want to hear a secret?"

His eyes widen as large as the cartoons he watches on TV. "Yes! What's the secret?"

Pretending to glance out to confirm that the coast is clear and that the other children had walked away to find something more interesting to direct their attention to, you whisper into Jaemin's ear. "Jeon Jungkook was my best friend."

Jaemin gasps. "No way. Your friend? Are you just saying that to me so I can feel better?" Yes, is what you really wanted to tell him, but truth to be told, you weren't lying. Kids were incredibly smart for even noticing that adults would say things to water down the situation, but you weren't just saying anything. "Of course not. Jungkook and I go way back, way before he became a professional swimmer. I used to go to all his practices, hung out with him after them, and even attended classes with him... just like you're in one right now!"

"Do you think... Do you think you can ask Jungkook hyung to come visit us? Maybe? If you're still friends with him..." He drifts, the thought of not being able to see his hero weighing down on his shoulders again. "I'll see what I can do," Standing from where you've been crouching, you ruffle Jaemin's hair with a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Now go play with the other kids. Remember, you can be whoever you want, and everyone else can be whoever they want as well."

Right before the clock hits 3:00PM, you verify that all the little kids are geared up in their beanies, puffer jackets, shoes, and some with gloves, in preparation for their parents' arrival. When the doors open and the children line up, leaving one by one, their nose and cheeks tint pink at the harsh winds, shivering yet at the same time cheering in glee when they see their guardians pull up.

Watching the smiles on their faces reminds you of the time that you hated the winter; brisk air smacking your cheeks in pain, freezing your face in position, fingers stiff from being exposed to the outside, and constant shaking just to warm yourself up in a clownery large winter coat. Yet, this time around, you find yourself fond of the weather, the thought of being able to spend time with your loved ones approaching and activities that could only be done during this specific season.

"Ready to head out?" One of your co-workers asks, just as bundled up as you are, learning your lesson after leaving without a jacket that wasn't thick enough before a day ago. "Yeah, I am. Let me just get my purse first, Naeun."

It's a constant cycle everyday: swipe your transit pass onto the bus, get off, walk an obscene amount of distance, if it's a good day then you'd stop for coffee, get to school, and prep for the day before calling the students in to take attendance, then that's when the teaching starts.

But something about today feels great, despite the snow falling from the sky that nearly has you slipping on the ice from lack of attention to anything in front of you. So, you grab something hot. After all, what's better than a cup of hot chocolate in the morning right before you're stuck in a classroom full of twenty first-graders?

Following your medium sized peppermint hot chocolate (you're rather quite enamored that you're able to find a peppermint flavor because it's your favorite), hopping out of the coffee shop with glee, you're ready to be on route to work again.

Then someone obnoxiously honks their horn.

You show no regard to this, mostly because it makes no sense to. Someone who's driving a flashy neon yellow Porsche is already gaining all the unnecessary attention in the first place, and you're not really in the mood to be categorized within that population.

But the beeping doesn't stop.

Oddly enough, it actually feels like the car is following you. Sweating profusely, you're debating whether or not to glance to see who the driver is. Just then, your phone dings.

jeon jungkook [6:57AM]: i've been trying to get you to turn around for the past 10 minutes, could you please stop walking faster? at this rate you're going to be a runner?

Instantaneously, you stop in the midst of your steps, sharply twisting on your heel to see the owner of the flamboyant vehicle. There he was, with the driver's side window rolled down, exposing those pearly white teeth of his, paired with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

Typical.

"Jeon Jungkook, fancy meeting you here."

"Not really fancy if I had to check your location services to see where you've been. It's not fun being ignored, love." He has his arm rested on the opening, watching as you purse your lips and bounce on the tips of your toes. "Mm, wonder why that is."

"Don't be like that," He frowns, chin sitting on his arm. "Come, I'll drive you to work. Maybe we can talk along the way."

"I'm not really in the mood to talk to you at seven in the morning, Jeon."

"Please?" He begs, pools of brown that match the liquid in your cup and the sweetness it entails. Just his voice alone was warm, shooting into your chest and you're trying to convince yourself that it's the drink, not him. "Fine." You respond through your gritted teeth, rounding the hood of the car to enter the passenger seat.

Jungkook looks so happy he could burst.

On the ride to work, you don't talk. He speaks casually, sharing stories about his adventures, ones that you don't really want to hear about or was it that his current attire that's causing your mind to get fuzzy? Baby blue dress shirt with just a couple of the buttons let loose, tucked into those dark grey slacks that hug his thighs so well, that you needed to avert your eyes or else he'd see you checking him out.

He does in fact, to the point that he needs to hide the smirk that dangles on his lips, but he refrains himself because getting you to forgive him is a difficult task alone, and teasing you wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Pull up here," You demand when he's driving by the perimeter of the building. "You don't need to drive into the yard. I don't need the teachers thinking I'm hanging out with someone driving a construction safety yellow car."

Jungkook is admittingly disappointed, hoping that he gets more time with you but he did choose a work day to meet you. "Can I see you after this?" He's suddenly bashful after approaching you confidently earlier, no semblance of high school Jungkook hinted in his personality anymore. "I don't know. Maybe. We'll see." With that, you slip out the car, greeting the parents that you pass by, sharing that beaming smile that he was wishing was for him instead. You're prettiest when you're working—the way you're talking to your students as they begin to line up to enter class, tapping their noses with your drink in hand, drowning in your oversized coat. You seem at your happiest, suddenly regretting his recent absence from your life.

Reminiscing back to the time of when you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life, where you wanted to go, and who you wanted to be were questions that were constantly thrown up in the air. He recalls those nights where he'd hear your whimpers through the wall between the bedroom and the living room, sitting at the coffee table in frustration while he prepped for bed. Life had been a crazy journey for the both of you, especially when he had gotten invited to pursue in other work opportunities.

You're thankful when you leave work that day and don't spot the rubber duck colored car anywhere near the schoolyard, yet at the same time, slightly despondent that he didn't return. "You look down," Naeun points out, nose peeking from her scarf with her hands dug deep into the pockets of her jacket. "Expecting someone?"

"Kind of, not really," You confess, letting out a heavy sigh with water vapor in the air. "But not surprised anyways."

"Does it have anything to do with a cheddar cheese looking car?"

Choking on your saliva, you attempt to clear your throat at her recognition. "How'd... you know it had to do with a yellow car?"

She leans over, gesturing in the direction behind you with her chin. "Other than the fact that it's hard to miss a car that bright in the morning, you coming out of it is also attention grabbing. Plus, he's over there, parked in the corner with a swarm of little kids around him."

Flinching, you look in her direction, the sight of Jungkook seated on the hood of his ridiculous vehicle, uncomfortably bending over to reach the height of the flock of little children with their parents, signing autographs and exchanging words with them.

You can't tell if it's cute or making your blood boil.

When you walk over to him with Naeun by your side, he looks up with that annoying smile on his face again. "Jeon Jungkook."

"See, Jaemin? She does know me." Jungkook teases, messing up the little boy's hair. Jaemin has a look on his face that screams nothing but elation, spilling with happiness that couldn't be fulfilled until he met his idol, Jungkook, the Olympian swimmer. "You were right! He is your best friend!"

"I said was, but you get the point." Jungkook jerks up, quickly shuffling to dip his head in the window opening of his car, pulling out a drink, handing it to you. "Would someone who was your friend get you your favorite drink?"

In a medium Starbucks cup, there's an iced cold brew with cold foam sitting on top—a drink that you had grown attached and addicted to in your first year of University, ordering it so frequently on the daily that you had to wean yourself off it. "Cold brew," You clarify, taking the drink gleefully. "I guess you remembered."

Naeun extends her hand at Jungkook, requesting a shake. "Oh my god, Jeon Jungkook, I'm a big fan. I heard that you were recently sponsored by Nike—crazy! She—" She's referring to you with a glare "—never mentioned that she was friends with a professional swimmer!"

"Didn't think it was important," You add, swirling before taking a sip of the liquid gold. "Knowing someone who swam for your country's Olympic team isn't usually brought up in an everyday conversation."

She rolls her eyes as Jungkook gifts her a warm handshake, hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He's dressed for comfort, this afternoon as opposed to this morning, and you're curious of his schedule yet you don't ask. "Kids, time to go home, don't leave your parents waiting." You dismiss the children who whine in reaction. "But we want to talk to Jungkook!"

"I'll be back tomorrow!" He confirms, and they run away in excitement, earning a groan from you. "Tomorrow? You're actually expecting to be back tomorrow?"

"Why? You don't want to see me?"

"Jungkook, why are you even back?" You exasperate, fingers running through your tangled locks. Jungkook is starting to frustrate you and all you want to do is go home and snuggle under the covers while watching a movie while possibly grading some papers. "What's the point of all this?"

He pouts, an arm snaking around your waist to pull your frame close. "I literally came to see my girlfriend and all she does is push me away. Isn't that crazy, Naeun? The girl of my dreams agreed to date me then she pretends that I don't even exist."

Jaw dropped, Naeun can't even formulate a sentence with the new information. "I know what you're going to say next, 'why didn't you—'"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend this entire time? Why didn't you even mention that it was Jungkook! You just faked the entire time that you weren't with someone while I was tricking you into going on dates—"

"You set her up with guys?" Jungkook's brows furrowed at Naeun before looking down at you. "You let her set you up with guys?"

"I didn't go to any of those dates she organized," You mention, bringing the drink to your lips again, truly the only thing that calms your nerves despite the chaos unfolding in front of you. "I vaguely said I wasn't interested."

"You could've just said that you had a boyfriend!"

"Well, you weren't around to prove it, so did it really matter?" Shrugging your shoulders, you escape from his grasp to drag the zipper of your jacket up higher. "Anyways, I'm out. Get home safe, Naeun, let me know how it goes with that mechanic guy tonight." Tugging up your sleeve for a better view of your watch, you nod. "My bus is coming soon—"

"—I'm literally standing right here and you're still going to take the bus?"

"I'm going to take this as my cue to leave..." Naeun chimes in, quickly waving goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Jungkook-ssi?" And he nods in return, watching as she walks away.

"I can't believe you would just waltz in here like you can do whatever you want." You hiss, nearly squeezing the cup in your hand but the cold brew inside is too valuable to let go to waste. "This is my workplace, not my house."

"I would go to your house if I knew where it was. You turned off your location yesterday."

"Maybe you shouldn't have outed yourself the first time, then you would've known." He moans, pushing his hair away from his face. The length has grown tremendously since the last time you saw him, reaching his chin with the ends curling into the shapes of his eyes when he's gleaming with a grin. "Why are you making things so difficult for the both of us?"

"I'm not." You respond nonchalantly, blinking blankly at the man before you.

Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Then let me take you home, to our home, really, since you decided that you wanted to move out without me here when the lease ended."

"I told you I didn't want to live where stalkers were standing outside my place."

"And I told you that you should call the bodyguard my company said they'd provide for you. Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me?"

Truthfully, you didn't want to go through the complications of the process of getting someone to consistently watch over you on a daily basis—it was easier to just up and leave, find somewhere else to reside instead of getting attacked by his fans. "It was too complex," allowing him to pull you in between his open legs as he rests on the hood of his car. "Plus, why would I want to ask help from a guy who wouldn't even come home for our anniversary? Easier to leave instead of being disappointed all the time."

The edges of his mouth drops. "Don't say it like that. I had to work, or else I would've taken the first flight back home. All the opportunities just so happen to be in the States."

"Go live there then, you don't need to come back. It's convenient for you to find a place there anyway."

"I'm not leaving you, idiot." He counters back, irritated that you're even making such suggestions. "I told you this every single time we meet again, every phone-call, every facetime. I won't move unless it's with you." The look in his eyes is hypnotizing mixed along with his words, swaying you into his direction unless you shake your head from the thoughts, stepping back. "Fine. Drive me home, whatever. Your stuff is still there anyways. I guess you still somewhat live with me."

Jungkook takes this as a victory.

In all honesty, he loves the idea of a domestic relationship. Jungkook loves having to wake up in the morning with you sleeping on the other side of the bed, corners of your eyes filled with dry boogers that'll probably hurt when you decide to get up, and brushing your teeth together, side by side, shoving each other just to be able to spit in the tiny little sink in the apartment. He argues that he could help pay for a better place, but you reject him regardless, wanting to stay in a more affordable place, one where you can go halfsies on.

He misses watching you hover over the stove, obnoxiously monitoring whatever it is you're cooking for dinner, only for him to call you out and take over instead. Or when you're doing work on the floor with your papers and laptop sprawled across the coffee table, leaning back when your shoulders get tired, resting in between his legs with your back against the body of the couch.

So on the route of driving you home, that’s all he can think about as you sit in silence.

This was definitely not the plan.

Parked in the garage of your apartment complex, the fluorescent lights don’t do a good job of piercing through the tinted windows of Jungkook’s car, which you’re super thankful for despite the obnoxious primary color he chooses. The steam fills the glass, hand pressed against the armrest on the door as you’re panting heavily, an uneven match with Jungkook’s. He has a grip on both your ass and hips, guiding as you’re grinding yourself on him, wishing to be closer than you already were.

How he has you out of your jeans is unknown. Your jackets have already been throat into the some-what backseat, your dress shirt unbuttoned with your breasts spilling from your nude bra, and his shirt is hiked up just enough to catch a glimpse of his abs. Swimming requires him to keep his body in shape and there’s no complaint from you on that.

Mouth opened, he let out a groan, feeling your tightness around his cock that made a drop of sweat fall from his forehead. “Fuck,” He curses, the sight of you in front of him clenches his heart. Jungkook thinks you’re so pretty under this light— even prettier than when he knew you in high school, it’s like the longer he knows you, the more infatuated he is. When you gyrate your hips aggressively, he suddenly can’t take it anymore, hands trailing up your spine, pushing you down against his chest before he digs his feet into the carpeted floors, hips piston up into you.

The new angle has your stomach in knots, a soft gasp falling from your lips that only encourages him to go harder. “Can you come like this?”

“Touch me,” You respond, and it comes out nearly as a whine but you’re too busy being fogged up by pleasure to even care. “Jeon, please,” Begging at this point, he slips himself between the two of you, thumb rubbing against the bud as your grip on his shoulders clasp firms, lips against the flesh of his neck.

“You’re going to come now, aren’t you?”

The way he says it hints an arrogant smirk, one you’re bothered with but you’re in the middle of something currently. It’s rhetorical, to him, because your pussy is convulsing around his dick that he’s almost reaching his limit yet he waits for you patiently. “I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby,” He manages to say through a heave, your eyes tightly shut closed before you reach your orgasm; a melodic moan finally releasing into his ears that he’s been expecting all night, one that you’ve been holding back to showcase that you’re still mad at him. Jungkook couldn’t care— well, just right now, since he has his dick in you, thrusting away until he hits his own orgasm, ropes of cum coating your swollen pink walls.

You’ve grown limp against his body, nose snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy but slowed from previously. He misses having you like this, bare and close to him, skin feeling light from post-sex. “I love you,” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up?”

Nodding, you barely have the strength to push yourself off his body, but he doesn’t let go of the grip he has around your mid-frame anyways, sliding the back of the seat up to straighten yourselves. Leaning over to the glove compartment, he snatches a couple tissues before slipping his limp dick out of you, wiping away your mixed come.

When he eventually has the both of you dressed, you lead him into the building, in the elevator and up to the floor of your apartment, cheeks still tinted rosy from the act in the car. Jungkook doesn’t mind it though, he thinks it’s cute that you’re embarrassed.

If this is what it’s going to be like forever— the warmth that you give, despite the words that come from your mouth, the affection and care that you distribute just for him, and the newfound confidence you’ve discovered during college that you’re not afraid of showing him... he wants it. Forever.

“Mm, so you’re telling me that you still fucked him even though you said that you were mad at him?”

Yura is adorable with her little baker’s hat on, working endlessly in the kitchen of her new bakery that she decided to open in Seoul after graduating culinary school. Luckily for you, it’s close enough to your apartment that you found yourself stopping by to visit frequently, stealing the goods that don’t make it out to the display fridge.

“... Possibly. I don’t know. I couldn’t help it— I didn’t get dicked down in forever. And no, don’t talk about using the dildo you gave me last year, I haven’t even touched the thing.”

“What? Nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s meaty, girthy—“

“Oh my god, please don’t continue that sentence,” You wince, palm against your forehead. “It was good, alright? I mean, sure, I finished myself off when I’m alone but yesterday, in the car—”

“You hoe— you didn’t only give your vagina to him, but you gave it to him in the car? You couldn’t even wait, could you? And what now, is he living back at the apartment?”

“I mean... he said he didn’t get a hotel because he wanted to sleep in his own bed again...”

Yura laughs, clapping her hands in amusement as the powder hits her face. “You’re so funny, you know that? Why do you keep playing this charade when you could just... let him back in?”

You sigh, plopping your body down onto the stool by the counters, elbows against the floured tops. Truthfully, caving into all the mistakes Jungkook made was something too common from you, wishing that he wasn’t good with his words and affectionate whenever he’s around you. He missed an anniversary, a 6th year anniversary, and from what you read on the forums online, it’s one of those years where relationships start to get bumpy.

“I just— I don’t want to be easy, you know? I let him get away with everything, and it’s not fair that he’s all the way in the States, doing whatever it is he’s doing, while I’m here, watching twenty to thirty little kids everyday. And I can’t tell him to stop what he’s doing because well— it’s his dream, Yura, who am I to stop him?”

“You don’t,” She responds sharply, glaring at you through her floured lashes. “You should’ve gotten on a plane to the States. It’s your anniversary, as in both you and Jungkook. It’s not his designated job to come here when it’s an anniversary to celebrate the both of you.”

There she goes again, even 6 years later after high school, Yura exhibits the realities of a situation, especially the ones that you’re in.

“I guess...” You say faintly, slowly reaching your surrender.

“No guessing. Please leave and go look for him. Tell him that you’re sorry, that you’re not going to be a big baby anymore. You’ve been with him for six years, and no matter how mad you get at him, he’s always coming back for more and attempting to make it up to you. Also, it’s 6:30AM... shouldn’t you already be on your way to work?”

“Oh, right, fuck, okay, thanks, Yura!” Jolting out of the bakery, you’re practically running to the school when you halt in your route at the sight of the familiar neon yellow car that’s parked on the school yard, yet again.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, and I’m on South Korea’s Men’s Swim Team. I’m training for 800M Freestyle Swim again, and possibly, maybe, planning to retire soon.”

Retire? The word that slips from Jungkook’s mouth is unfamiliar, mostly because he had never discussed this with you before, causing you to furrow your brows in perplexity at him as he stands in front of the black chalkboard in your classroom full of children.

“I actually lived next door to your lovely teacher here, and we grew up together. She even coached me early in my years since I didn’t have anyone with credentials to show me. We both used to stare at the computer, day and night, renting videos from the library, and spending most of our time together just so that we could improve on my skills...” As Jungkook babbles on to the students, Naeun nudges you in the stomach.

“What?” You hiss in a whisper. Softly, she responds, “You never told me any of this! I thought we were friends! You’ve been hiding from me that you’re dating an Olympian and that you guys knew each other since you were little? What else haven’t you told me?”

“Mm,” You hum, arms crossed over your chest. “I got recruited to shadow coaches back in the university Jungkook and I attended. I rejected their offer and went undecided before coming to terms that I’d teach.”

Naeun is taken aback by all this information, stumbling back to the edge of your desk to regain her balance. “You were recruited to coach? And you rejected that offer? Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because swimming is Jungkook’s dream, not mine.”

During college, evidently enough, you had been struggling endlessly trying to figure out what you wanted to do with yourself. There were moments where you considered taking a gap year— a break from it all, go somewhere maybe to finally understand yourself and what you want to do. Jungkook’s eyes when you mentioned it to him grew wary, sad that he couldn’t be there to help you but just stare at your helpless expression through the screen of his phone.

One thing you knew for sure, you didn’t want Jungkook to pity you. (Although, he never did. He was just too in love and couldn’t see the girl of his dreams sad.)

So you pushed harder. Met with people, asked about their experiences, requested for a mentor, and just researched. It was exactly like the time Jungkook told you he wanted to swim, so you obsessively tried to find any information on it so that you could teach him and show him things he could do in the water.

You learned that if you wanted something bad enough, you grew a drive for it.

It might’ve been when Jungkook realized that you were great at coaching. When he tried to sway you into coaching people because you were great and motivating people to do better, to try harder, and all of this without overworking them to the point of turning into dust. Despite everything, you didn’t want to coach swimming— and soon learning, you didn’t want to coach any sport. But the closest thing to it was teaching.

And a teacher was what you became.

There was already enough experience in teaching someone, or in this case, tutoring, because Jungkook sucked at it back in grade school. He always needed help, and that’s where you swooped in. Arms filled with notebooks, backpack dragging you full with textbooks while you stood at Jungkook’s front porch, ready to confuse him with letters and numbers that he learned he didn’t even need now.

“Did you know he was thinking about retirement?” Naeun sneaks in again. You shake your head, watching your boyfriend answer questions from the crowd. “No, I didn’t. He’s never even mentioned that word to me, ever.”

Just as Jungkook finishes, you holler out for the class to settle down, pushing him aside as he bumps back into the wall with a grin on his face. “Ok, class, since it’s 5 minutes before recess, I’m just going to let you guys go off. It is a Friday, so enjoy yourselves!”

Jungkook joins in when you’re zipping up the jackets and tying the shoes of the kids; they’re all too excited for an extra five minutes of recess time, saying something along the lines of, “we should ask hyung to come more often, he makes her happy enough to give us five extra minutes!” and Jungkook stifles a laugh.

Standing against the brick masonry of the building, Jungkook accompanies you. “You’re going to ask me about the whole retirement thing, aren’t you?”

“Was. But you didn’t seem like you cared enough to bring it up to me.”

He sighs, adjusting the beanie on his head. “I didn’t decide until yesterday. I’m going to be in the next Olympics then I’m retiring. I’ve made enough money from the sponsorships and I’m sure I’ll be able to keep my affiliation with Nike ‘til past that.”

Glancing over at him before looking back at the children playing in the yard, you snuggle your nose deeper into your scarf. “Why’s that? Isn’t swimming your dream?”

“It is,” He says, voice genuine and filled with honesty. “I might do some things here and there, maybe train some kid with potential. I just... I don’t know how much longer I can do this thing between us. I’m never going to give up on swimming, and there’s so many opportunities out there for me to do that includes it. But this whole... training for the Olympics thing— I’ve done it already. It’s great, I’ll do another year of it. But by the time the second time I enter, we’ll be hitting that age where it’s time to settle down.”

“We don’t need to have a set time to settle down—“

“I know that we don’t but I’m tired of this whole long distance thing. You’ve been so supportive of my dreams, and I’ve accomplished them already. It’s time that I’m here, by your side, supporting yours.”

There’s silence between the two of you, despite the constant screaming and laughing that’s coming from the playground.

“I’m sorry,” You blurt and he only looks at you with bewilderment on his face. “I should’ve came to visit you on our anniversary instead of expecting you to come here. It was selfish of me.”

Jungkook laughs, beaming brightly with the sweetest smile upon his lips. “You used to be so timid and shy back in high school. You’ve developed into this woman who’s confident and fierce, sometimes scaring me because I never thought you could ever be like this.”

“Does it make you like me any less?”

“No,” He turns to you, tightening the scarf around your neck in prevention of slipping. “But... it makes me love you more. You’re also admitting things and apologizing. Very huge character development if you asked me. Say, how about we go home tonight and celebrate our anniversary, to make up for the one we miscommunicated about?”

“I’d... like that, very much.” You respond, chewing on your bottom lip bashfully.

“Now,” He begins, pinching your frozen cheeks gently. “I told you I love you about... a million times since I came back. I’m still waiting for you to say it too.”

He’s still somewhat the same Jungkook from back then, hidden underneath the blanket of adulthood and experiences through college but nonetheless, just as much as he changed, you’ve loved him through every stage he’s gone through. He felt the same. “Love you too, Jeon.” And there it was, the smile that tugs on the edges of your lips that he’s been waiting for, dedicated just for him.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #gyukultfics #:)

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ringmyheart · 3 years

Note

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

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orbitariums · 3 years

Text

love lessons | neville longbottom x black slytherin reader

omg this was requested sooo long ago and i’m only just completing it. reader, whoever u are, i hope you’re still out there to enjoy this in full <333

here’s a lovely playlist in honor of neville longbottom— i didn’t make it but i adore it!

love lessons | neville longbottom + black slytherin! reader

You kicked the crunchy, orange-hued fall leaves underneath your brand new combat boots, which were laced tight all the way up to the top just like you liked them to be. You shrugged your crochet cardigan around your shoulders, the cold breeze nipping at the nape of your neck. You scrunched your shoulders up as you folded your arms, irritated by the uncooperative weather. You actually liked being outside on the empty quidditch fields, it was the one place you felt you could be alone with your thoughts. The rest of the Slytherins were always rather loud and obnoxious, constantly trying to one up the next person. You preferred staying to yourself, only proving yourself when necessary, which hardly ever was.

People, including the other Slytherins, tended to stay out of your way. You were quiet and smart, but it was no secret that your mouth was quick and sharp, and that if you ever were challenged, you were very no-nonsense. You ended things just with the bat of an eye, or a cool glance in someone else’s direction. No one really bothered you much for that reason— they knew what you were capable of. Still, you always felt crowded in the buzzing, magic-filled halls of the castle, so you spent as much time alone outside as possible.

You had just settled down in the stands, quill and journal tucked safely in your lap so you could reflect through your writing, when you sensed another person in the quidditch field. Looking up, you could see clearly that it was Neville Longbottom, the Gryffindor in the same year as you. He was trudging around quite stupidly, lugging his broom at his side, and glancing up worrisomely at the sky every now and then. You scoffed as you watched him, rolling your eyes. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but every part of you had noticed him, and it felt like his presence was a complete invasion of space. All you wanted was to be alone, and here he was ruining that.

Neville noticed you in the stands and went red in the face, apologizing,

“Sorry, I-I didn’t realize anyone was here, I was going to practice on my broomstick, I’m quite terrible at broom riding. I’ll just be going, then, sorry to bother you—”

You rolled your eyes, shouting back to him,

“It’s fine. Just keep to yourself, don’t make any noise and we’ll be fine.”

Neville seemed grateful, huffing out a great sigh of relief and nodding appreciatively your way,

“Sure, sure! Thanks!”

“Whatever,” you muttered to yourself low under your breath.

You went back to journaling while Neville steadied himself on his broom, hoisting himself up into the air and trying to keep his balance as he trudged half-heartedly in the air. You weren’t paying much attention to the boy, so any awareness of him disappeared as you journaled. You liked to spend time writing in your journal, just getting your thoughts out and reflecting on your life. You had no one to talk to about your life, as all your Slytherin friends, if you could even call them that, were much too self absorbed and not at all understanding. You liked solitude because it was your only way to find peace, your only way to feel understood. All you had was you, and that was all that mattered. You were just getting to the next page in your journal when something interrupted you— a loud, hoarse scream that seemed to be growing louder and louder, followed by a sudden thud.

Confused, you looked up, and when you saw the blob writhing around in pain on the ground, you realized instantly that it was that pitiful Longbottom boy, who you’d long since forgotten about. Your first reaction was annoyance— he had been doing so well all this time making no noise and not bothering you, and now he’d ruined it. But then, your humanity settled in and you were worried, and so you rushed over to him. With a huff, you kneeled beside him, and he rolled over pathetically and looked up at you, wincing.

“Ohhh,” he groaned, and you sighed loudly, rolling your eyes.

No one else was around, so now you’d have to take him to the infirmary. After all, you couldn’t just leave him there. Most Slytherins would expect you to, but you were at least a little decent.

“You idiot,” you spat, still unable to conceal your irritation at your alone time being so abruptly interrupted.

“‘M sorry, I fell off my broom,” he said hastily, and you rolled your eyes,

“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, get up, I’ll take you to the hospital wing.” Poor Neville tried getting up, but by the way he was wincing and moaning, you could tell that that wouldn’t be possible. You sighed again, burying your head in your palm and rubbing your temples, thinking, Merlin, if I help this blithering idiot, I better get perfect marks this semester.

“Oh, honestly,” you growled, standing up and reaching your hand out for him to grab.

He hobbled up and you pulled him up to your height.

“Put your arm around me,” you commanded. He looked at you as if confused. “Just do it.”

He slung his arm around you, and you suddenly felt all the weight of his body on you at once. He was limping and hobbling around, barely able to walk on his own. You sighed, heaving and hawing as you trudged through the empty quidditch field and through the halls, hissing at any one who made your journey any longer than it needed to be.

“Out of the way!” you bit at a couple Hufflepuffs gathered in the middle of the hallway.

They cleared the way immediately, and you made your way to the hospital wing, where you were met by a worried Madam Pomfrey, whose brows immediately knotted together when she saw you and Neville.

“Oh, my dear! What happened to you?” she asked, sort of eyeing you in a way that told you she was suspicious you’d done something to him.

You rolled your eyes.

“He fell off his broom. Do they just let anyone into Hogwarts these days, honestly?” you said the last part under your breath, watching as Madam Pomfrey escorted Neville away.

You followed because you figured if you’d wasted this much time already, you might as well see this through. You at least wanted to know if the bloke would be okay. As you sat beside him, watching Madam Pomfrey observe him and declare his injury a broken leg, you could see the color drain from Neville’s face. He started to frown and whine,

“I knew I shouldn’t have tried getting on my broom by myself, I knew something like this would happen. Idiot.”

“Yes, well, it’s good that you wanted to improve your skills, dear, but-” Madam Pomfrey glanced down at Neville’s twisted leg. “Please do so with proper supervision next time. You’ll have to stay here and recover for the next few days, but you’ll be alright. I’ll be back.”

You glared at Neville, and he finally looked over at you apologetically, tripping over his words as per usual,

“Th-thank you, really, thank you, I-I wouldn’t have known what to do, I’d probably be there for hours alone. I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to bother you, you seemed to be-”

“Save it, honestly,” you sighed.

Neville’s face went a few shades darker, and he nodded.

“Well… I-I’m Neville.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

“Y-you do?” Neville looked surprised, raising his eyebrows.

You nodded calmly,

“Yeah. We’ve got potions together, don’t you pay attention? You get yelled at by Snape almost every lesson because you can’t make potions to save your life.”

Neville blushed again here, but explained himself,

“Yeah, I-I know. I just didn’t think you would’ve noticed me, that’s all…”

“Yeah, only reason I notice you is because you’re an idiot,” you chuckled to yourself, though you were almost meaning to make a joke between the two of you.

Neville smiled sheepishly,

“Well… I know you too. You’re YN. The Slytherin girl.”

“That is correct. Save the formalities, Longbottom, you owe me.”

Neville started talking incredibly fast,

“Yes, yes of course, of course. I-I’ll do anything, I’ll… I could help you with Herbology, I know you hate it.”

You made a face, squinting at him.

“How do you know I hate Herbology?” you interrogated.

Neville laughed nervously,

“I overheard you talking about it in Potions once. I’m actually okay at Herbology, I could help you out.”

You looked long and hard at Neville. Typically, you’d have no interest in being tutored by anyone, especially someone like him. You liked your solitude. You’d honestly rather struggle on your own. But, some part of you told you that this might be worth it. So, you’d give it a shot.

“Fine,” you said, after a long moment of silence. “But you better make it worth my time. Meet me in the library, Thursday evening.”

You stood up, and Neville nodded frantically, watching as you began to leave,

“Yes- I’ll see you there.”

You were due to meet Neville in the library in a few minutes. It was after class on a Friday, so everyone was looking forward to the weekend, and hanging out in the Slytherin common room being loud and vivacious. You on the other hand, still had your school robes on and you were carrying a stack of books in your arms, trying to discreetly make your way to the library to meet Neville. You didn’t want any of the Slytherins finding out what you were doing and with whom, not because you cared, but because you knew they’d never shut up and stop being so childish.

“Where’re you going, YN?” shouted out Draco Malfoy from his typical corner of the room, surrounded by his idiotic goons.

“Library,” you replied shortly without looking at him, making your way out of the common room and down to the library.

You found Neville there sitting at a table near the Herbology section of the library. True to his nature, he had a plant in front of him whose leaves were stretching out in all different directions, moving like squiggly arms. You sat down at the table, but he was so immersed in the plant that he didn’t even acknowledge you. You waited a moment, watching him with a raised eyebrow, but he still didn’t budge. Growing annoyed, you slammed your hand on the table in front of him, making him jerk up in surprise and look at you with wide eyes.

You rolled your eyes when you made eye contact, shaking your head,

“Still as much of an idiot as you were the last time, I see.”

“S-sorry, I’ve just been watching this plant for a few weeks now, he’s only a baby.”

“I’m kidding, Neville,” you said, and for the first time you cracked a smile that was more than just a slight tug of your lips.

Flustered, Neville’s cheeks grew red, and he shook his head, chuckling,

“Right. Err, so. We could… get started, if you’d like?”

Surprisingly, Neville Longbottom made for a great teacher. He was actually interested in the subject and while you thought he was insane for being so wrapped up in something you found mind numbingly boring, you couldn’t help but be engaged in the lesson. He made something you hated into something interesting for the hour and a half you were in the library together. You even found yourself softening up around him, laughing quietly and sharing smiles. His awkward demeanor could never really die, but his walls seemed to fall a little as he tutored you, as if he were comfortable. You found yourself admiring him even, and who were you, a Slytherin, to be admiring the silly Gryffindor boy like this? Hell, he was even a little cute. A little.

When you’d finally finished, you had pages chock full of notes and textbooks that were annotated to the core. Neville was just asking if you wanted to meet again, and fretting over whether or not he’d done alright when you interrupted him, turning fully in your chair to face him.

“Neville,” you said, and he cut himself off, pausing to look up at you. There was a slight pause and silence hung in the air before you continued, a bit sheepishly, which was not in your nature. But you also weren’t used to being as nice as you were about to be. “Thank you, really. Thanks loads. You’re… you’re great… at this. Really…” you awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Er, thanks.”

Neville’s face was burning bright red and he knew it, because he started stammering and looking anywhere but directly at you. Normally, you would’ve been irritated, but this time around, you couldn’t help but grin amusedly.

“Er- it-it’s really nothing, ‘m not all that good, just—”

“We should meet again, yeah?” you interrupted him again, and he looked up.

“Huh?” he asked stupidly.

“We should meet up again?”

“Oh, of course, if-if you’d like, no pressure.”

“Of course there’s no pressure on me, Neville, I came up with the idea,” you snorted, shaking your head. It was hard not to find him adorable, honestly.

“Right,” Neville blushed again, scratching the nape of his neck.

“Maybe we could share a pumpkin juice,” you smiled, meeting his eye as he snapped his head up in shock, both your eyes meeting with a warm sparkle.

Neville cracked a grin, goofy and wide,

“Yes. I-I’d like that.”

You smirked, gathering your things and getting up out of your chair. Perhaps there was more to Neville Longbottom than you’d previously thought, and some part of you was desperate to figure it out.

“See you around,” you gave him a three-fingered wave and smiled softly at him, the softest smile that had been brought to your lips in a long time, its warmth melting some of the ice in your heart and blowing Neville away.

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom x black!reader #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #black reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter poc #black!reader #black! reader #slytherin reader #slytherin #gryffindor #slytherin x gryffindor

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everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Song: Getting Over You by Lauv

Summary: Unexpected things happen all the time but meeting him was one of the best parts of it.

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x gn!reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags, Genre: implied enemies to semi lovers! trope, slight angst, curse words, timeskip! Atsumu

A/N: pls i didn't intend to change it last minute but pls let me know if u liked it cuz im still having second thoughts <3

“No- I’m sorry.” Atsumu says as you felt your heart snap and break into two distant pieces. You already limited your expectations but there was a miniature amount of hope that you held onto and that was when you should’ve lost your grip.

“It’s fine, ‘Tsumu.”

It obviously wasn’t. No matter how loud the cries of your heart were, what mattered to you in this moment was to forget it ever happened- to run away and never face another failed trial of love. Atsumu can see past your smile and he hated the way it had to end in a way he avoided. There would be a time where his feelings would be up to confrontation but when it finally happened, he’d became a coward.

He was late to realize what the outcomes could lead to. How certain was he that your paths would meet again? How was he sure that he can revert this scenario in a better way that he wanted when you were losing your hold onto him?

“I have to go but it was nice knowing you, Miya.” Your lips were tugged in a weak smile while he questions why his body lacked the power to move but what resumes to play in his mind was the way his name escaped your lips like it was a curse to say it.

Turning your heel, there was an ache in Atsumu’s head. Was it regret? His decisions tied in knots? His emotions unable to declutter themselves? Hesitantly, he reaches for you. His hand wrapped around yours as you glanced down on his soft skin you used to despise to get near to.

His eyes told you stories that were hard to decipher all at once. His stories didn’t start with a setting, it started and ended with you, not a single page where you weren’t there but it seems like the chapters you had in your own story were being torn off to erase the traces of false hope.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry.” He whispers while you felt his hand tighten to make sure that you could stay- even if it lasted for a minute because he wasn’t sure fate could spare you two another moment.

But then, you softly removed his hold on you while the cold sweat runs down his forehead.

“It’s okay, ‘Tsumu. We were just never meant for each other.”

We could’ve been.

“Thank you for your time.” You bid the player as both bow each other as a way of manner. You gathered your bag as the athlete turns to you with a kind smile.

“I enjoyed the interview. I’m impressed at how prepared and professional you are. How long have you been doing this?” He asks, adjusting his outfit while you toss your bag on your shoulder with your camera slung around your neck.

“There was a journalism club back in my high school and I joined in ever since I was a first year.”

“You’re in college now?”

“Yes, sir.” He chuckles at your formality while he gives a pat to your shoulder.

“That’s good to hear. Goodluck with everything- I believe that you’ve got bright things ahead of you.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment while you bid your goodbyes. You step out of the hotel feeling the satisfaction hit you like a prize. The report can finally be simplified into a few more subtle fixes and maybe by 1am, you’d be able to present it to your professor without doubting your work.

Sighing happily, you decided to reward yourself to a lovely lunch with a view you often visited due to a reminiscent feeling that bubbles in your system. After ordering, you sat outside admiring the way the sun sets and leaves a lasting beauty before the moon shows.

The stress was fading from you. You had expected that the project would’ve taken weeks for you to finish knowing that some retired athletes usually avoid questions to why they left the sport they used to love. You had called a few, a struck of confidence was enough to make you do so but they often cancel your request because they either paid attention to your young age or because they weren’t ready to be asked such personal questions about them. You were lucky to score and interview with a well-known athlete whose had his fair share of the spotlight during his early 20’s. Sadly, his retirement was due to an accident and his weak body levels couldn’t bare the adrenaline of the sport. He was kind, patient, and understanding. Ever since he agreed, your attention was on the questions you’d lay upon him seeing that this was an opportunity you can’t waste. After gathering some of his past glories, you narrowed down your interrogation on what remains important to benefit the topic of your project. You were more than proud because of the compliment he had given you and the fact that you might be able to catch a break after a hectic week.

Opening your camera and flicking through the photos to decide on which you were going to use. Suddenly, a photo meets your sight. The peak of blonde and gray hair with a uniform that you missed.

The Inarizaki Volleyball Team.

Most especially, him.

A few years has passed since you’ve seen him and his brother. Osamu’s last interaction with you was filled with nothing but sweet memories and a hug that you could never forget the warmth of, while Atsumu’s last memory with you remained bittersweet- like a sour flavor in his tongue that never left. You tried too hard to forget fragments of your time with him but because of how much work you put yourself through, you lost time to reflect on the moments that didn’t hurt.

Half of your high school life was compressed into confusing parts of your story.

But the chapter that seems to be the most influential part of it, was where you got to meet the blonde who has stomped on your heart.

It was funny to be remembered as a person who had the guts to sneeze during the great Miya setters serve.

“Achoo!”

You immediately cover your face with your handkerchief as your sneeze echoed through the gym making Atsumu’s hand lose its power because he was stunned by the sound, the ball hitting the net instead as he almost hits Aran who was wide eyed that ball went his way. The team could hear Osamu’s ‘uh-oh’ and it was enough for them to know what the setter feels after the unfortunate event.

Atsumu grits his teeth as the other team cheers knowing they got the score while his head jolts to the crowd, aggressively searching for the one who messed up his serve. Even eyeing his fans who got scared by the way he turned his head in their direction.

Meanwhile, you’ve got glares surrounding you as your friend nudges you, letting out an exhale of disbelief that you’ve got death stares.

“We’ll get the next point ‘Tsumu, don’t worry.” Osamu says landing a hand to his brothers' shoulder while Atsumu readies himself for the serve of the opposite team.

“Whatever.”

After that certain match, Atsumu was more than determined to hunt down whoever caused the flunk of his serve. Silly as it is, he’s never heard someone dare to speak during his serve. He’d always let out a hand signal for them to be quiet- let it be known that if someone spoke, he’d be fine with it but a whole sneeze? He’d never let it go, especially when it resonated in his ears.

So, imagine the look on his face when he hears the exact same sound when he was just stopping by his locker.

“Fucking dust.” You said sniffling as you closed the door to your locker, and you were face to face with a wide-eyed Miya Atsumu holding out his finger and pointing it to you, as if he was accusing you of murder.

“It’s you!” He shouts making you raise your eyebrow at him, but the raise of his voice had intimidated you.

“What?” You asked him, not finding a single clue on whatever he was pertaining to.

“You messed up my serve by sneezing.” He says in the tone of ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ making you lick your lips, a hand to your hip as you looked at him.

“I’m not apologizing for something I can’t control.” You were completely baffled by this man. Sure, you were his classmate, but this was your first year and you barely cared to take notice of all of them, only focusing on your school group that had you busy.

“You could’ve held it for like 2 more seconds at least.” You blinked before letting out a tired exhale as you eye him up and down. The setter of the school's volleyball team, you were aware of that because of how many matches you’ve been dragged to, but he’s never come up to you before.

This was a whole other introduction.

“Miya, right?” You asked him as he steps forward, looking down on you with a sly smirk.

“I guess I’m sorry.”

Atsumu stays silent for a few seconds but returns to his angry pout as he continues to stare at you.

“What’s your name?” Atsumu asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Y/N.”

From thereon, it looked like your life’s plot had spiked up. Atsumu was- you could call it as a miscalculation. Someone so loud and had his ego constantly fed was not someone you would stick around due to your strict schedule of balancing schoolwork and papers from your club. It was like a bump in the road wherein the objects in your car would’ve been juggled around because of the impact- that's what it felt like. Thinking that two years would’ve passed by like a breeze, time slowed down with him. The constant bickering and arguments were embedded in you like a tattoo. The way his cackle would echo through your ears when he’d struck a nerve to you, the way he’d purposely call you nicknames you swore you hated, to the same jokes can be dragged on for hours, and how every fiber of your body promised you’d leave when you’ve had enough.

But promises were always broken.

You stuck around and he did too. Atsumu provided you with his trust and company whenever you needed it. It’s a pleasant experience but it surely wasn’t at its best. What comes with it were headaches and harsh words but having a person who knew you until graduation and stayed was a different reason. He was a familiar, a person who isn’t a call away when you needed it but being in their presence would give you a pinch of comfort.

Maybe the only thing you can thank Atsumu for is getting to know his twin brother.

You accidentally sent a text to Osamu about you panicking about a missing file to be passed the following day and Osamu was up and ready to help you locate it. After finding it, you decided to treat him for being a life saver and he of course, was having the time of his life for the free food- it was also his favorite restaurant at that moment. During this time, you’ve got to talk more about each other. Months pass now Osamu and you were way better friends than you and his brother.

You and Osamus’ bond were the type that was just so serene, hardly any type of judgement when you’d bring up a problem, and all secrets were kept tight.

Osamu was the shoulder you can lean on, while Atsumu’s would shove your head away when you do so.

Your friendship drifted away when Atsumu stabbed your heart with the words “No.” and “I’m sorry.” You hesitated that day, to dial Osamu’s phone the way you used to, but it never happened. Your sobs muffled your voice and if you called him, he’d never understand a word that you’d say.

The opposite is that Osamu would understand everything.

Because you and Atsumu mirrored the same amount of pain.

He’d never seen his brother so- ruined. Atsumu’s thin walls didn’t shield his shouts of sorrow while Osamu withstood every bit of the torture show his brother had. Checking him on the next day, the setter was fast asleep with bags under his eyes and a red nose, clutching onto his pillow so tightly.

Osamu knew that day that the damage has been done and not a single band aid would mend the two shattered hearts.

Atsumu strolls to the around looking for a restaurant along with his teammates. The sun has fully set making the streets of Japan light up with how busy and crowded they were. Bokuto and Hinata were busy pointing at stands that had their favorite slabs of meat while Sakusa trails behind them with a mask, wanting to be removed from the push of people. As the eyes of the blonde land on a certain stand with multiple notes stuck onto a board, he smiles fondly. He then sees two kids running with smiles on their lips as they held each other's hand, obviously excited to explore the night.

“Come on, don’t be a wuss.” Atsumu says as you rolled your eyes and thought hard about his hand that was held out in front of you. Atsumu grunts before taking your hand in his before you could even decide properly. You followed his lead as he walked you through the sea of people. You were nervous that he had left practice to accompany you. Observing you from afar, you looked devastated, but you continued the rest of the day with a smile like nothing happened. Seeing that you looked dull talking to Karou, he pulled you away from whatever void of sadness you surrounded yourself in.

“Atsumu shouldn’t you be at practice?” You asked sighing, still with his hand in yours as you stopped by a stand.

“I should be but whatever that Karou did is obviously hurting you, you idiot.” Your eyes widened at his statement and this reaction confirmed his suspicions as anger forms inside of him. What could that boy have done to get you this upset? Did he physically hurt you? Atsumu hated how he cared- it wasn’t his business to meddle with but the frown on your lips was something he wanted to remove from you.

“Thank you.” You muttered as he buys you the same thing he ordered. He sees how you weren’t as colorless as before. The lights of the night brought saturation to your features as his eyes adored every feature of yours.

“It’s nothing.”

“Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder while the blonde awakens from his escape.

Atsumu looks around once more, seeing that there wasn’t a trace of you, he moves on.

Like he was supposed to do in the first place.

“For our new assignment, why don’t we take the vice versa of your last project. Retirement is inescapable but why not find the reason they’d got into the sport. What makes it so exhilarating and unforgettable? That will be our topic this week. I’m giving you a week for interviews, photos, and articles. Video format is more suited for this task. Is that clear?” You all nodded as you wrote down the list of possible athletes to meet, jotting down an outline of some key points to remember.

“A tip for you all: look for the younger generations. It doesn’t matter to me what status the athlete stands in right now, it could be a friend or even a child. What I’m looking for the depths of the details in your research.” The professor stands making all of you bid him goodbye as he walks out of the room. You gathered your notebooks, sighing that you won’t have the time to properly rest- an exam was near right at the submission of your new task. You realized that you needed to sort out the things you were required to do before everything would pile up and get tangled in the short amount of time.

Who should I interview? God, everyone is so busy at this season. You thought. It’s true- you realized that matches were always lined up by this month. You also had classes to attend to and your mind could collapse at any given moment. You were more than worried about organizing your time properly but the feeling that you’d have several sleepless nights haunts you. You wished he could have extended the submission- though it didn’t get any better since after exams you tended to be drained from studying all night.

Going back to your apartment, you decided to put sticky notes all over your wall to help you sort out your priorities. Tomorrow would be Saturday meaning that you’ve done all the works to be passed on Monday and that you had zero meetings or classes. Saturday and Sunday would be divided to work parts, by Monday you should be up and running to work again.

You couldn’t let go of this group. It had given you countless of opportunities- even an offering to be an editor at a well-known magazine agency. You were in queue for the letter, so you decided to continue with the tasks of the group. You were thankful that you got used to the craziness of it all. The ability to multitask, to put the phone down once in a while, managing your time, those were just one of the benefits of getting used to it. The things you hated was that you barely had time for yourself. To lounge and just do nothing never met with what you were doing. You envied how some people from your group would plan some hang outs during a busy week and you always questioned how they managed to do it all without panicking.

You yawned as you felt your stomach growl at the scent of the delicious street food. Seeing that you fell short on money because the amount that was in your wallet was enough for your way home, it meant you’d have to wait to eat dinner until you came home. Letting out a groan you decided to walk your way even if you get shoved. God, you were starving and exhausted. The emotions were starting to fill you the more you moved. It didn’t help that everyone was so loud. You could hear the sound of the cackles from the drunken men in the corner, the cries of the baby that brought irritation to your eardrums and even the off-key singing of a (possibly) drunk girl at karaoke. You just wanted to cover your ears and crawl back to your bed not caring if you’d only be able to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep.

As you walked, you felt a boiling pile of liquid drip to your stomach making you let out a yelp as your clothes were drenched in the coffee stain that you despised. The liquid got to your skin making you wince at just how it impacted on your skin. You felt your eyes water as the woman tried to pat away the drink but instead made it worse because you wanted the fabric to be away from you as possible- which was the opposite of what she was doing.

“Oh my god- I'm so sorry.” She kept saying while patting your abdomen while you tried to wave her off, but she kept going making the tears flow from your eyes as you chose to walk away, covering your face at how humiliated you were. You sobbed in your hands as you bumped into someone before removing them from your face to find a bench to sit on but seeing that people were already turning their heads to look at you, you’ve had enough already.

Finally finding your bus stop, you sat down burying your face in the palm of your hands sobbing as your mind replays how you’ve made a fool out of yourself for the last time. Everything was going terribly and you didn’t know how to control it without losing your cool. Sure, you’ve managed to escape the people but the feeling is still badly glued to you.

“Is everything okay?”

Someone asks but the voice became a blur to you because you were so focused on your sobs and the unstable breathing.

“Go away.” You whispered but there was a weight added to your left side as you kept your face hidden behind your hands.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” The man says looking down before standing up to leave the bench, making you intake in a sharp exhale, relieved he left.

“Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? How am I gonna interview a volleyball player at this state?” You rambled on thinking that guy has exited your business and was free from companion.

“I mean- we’re not close- but I’m a volleyball player?”

You wiped your eyes as your heart started to run a mile now that you’ve familiarized yourself with his voice.

Lifting your head, there in front of you was the one thing that your heart had wished to see.

“Atsumu?”

His eyes widen as his chest expands, his heart growing ten times bigger than it was while it beats like a drum on heavy metal song.

“Y/N- I didn’t know- wow.” Breathless, speechless, weak- those were the words that defined your emotions. You wanted to pass out- to act like you just mistaken him for a person but he was real and you had a hard time believing it.

“Atsumu?" God, he missed it. The way his name would fall of those taunting lips of yours. The tone in your voice leading him back to the memories that he couldn’t push away.

You had to believe it. There was no other way that your starvation can make you this delusional. You called his name like you were unsure that he was ever real- like a character your brain had developed to cope with your sorrows. You dared to touch him, maybe if you did it would be a wisp of air but you were scared that if you reached out to him, you could feel his skin and remember how you wanted it to be within your grasp all the time.

Perhaps it’s a dream but this time you’d never want to wake up if this was the only way you can be together.

“Y/N..I- how are you?” How could he manage to act so civil? Your presence shocked him like electricity in his veins, pumping his heart at an unusual speed. His voice was unsteady and low, experiencing the same thoughts like you.

It’s like he was dragged back to your last encounter. Seeing your eyes filled with so much agony and how you looked so torn from his rejection, it’s the same look that you had now. It’s like his eyes were playing a risky game with him but he couldn’t complain since he’s been wanting to see you ever since you let go.

“Well, I’m burned-out that’s for sure.” You said with a light chuckle as he sits back down, wondering if it’d be alright to be close to you.

“What’s this interview about?” He asks, fiddling with the strings of his jacket while you tore your eyes away from him because you knew the admiration for him would erupt anytime soon.

“What got athletes into the sport in the first place.” Atsumu places his finger under his chin, thinking deeply about what offer he just made.

It’d mean that he could be in the same room with you for more than the hours he spent crying to himself but why waste the chance? You needed it- heck you wouldn’t be this distraught if you weren’t so affected by it. There was a never-ending list of things to do but meeting with Atsumu wasn’t even in your list of expectations because you were over with hoping into something that takes a miracle.

But he is the miracle.

“Atsumu..I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said, looking down on your hands that were on your lap, letting your hair fall in front of you to avoid his concerned gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, this is not what I planned to look like when I first see you.” Atsumu feels his heart frown at how low you spoke of yourself, but he understood. If you saw him in the state that you were in right now, he too would feel like he could’ve done or look better, even at least handle the situation without crumbling apart.

He knew you were in a troubled place of your mind but he just wonders where you could talk about why everything fell apart.

He missed the way it was casual to talk to you. Maybe an insult as a greeting, or a flick to the arm but he never expected to talk to you with his heart dropping in your hands. He just couldn’t forget the way you’d let him go that day during graduation, it’s almost like the sensation was still lingering around his palm even if he held a ball.

He just wished he said yes, only then, you’d be meant for each other.

“Do you mean it?” You asked sighing, not baring the weight of his silence. The pace of his heart quickens as he starts to worry if this was the confrontation that he held back all these years.

“The interview.” He was more than glad to do it. He was thankful that you weren’t talking about the bad memories or the circle of tension you two were in.

He looks at you while another strike was given to his heart seeing you this way. He’d do everything to bring back the color in your features.

“Of course.”

You smiled at his words as you both stand up but you felt conscious about the stain that was still stuck to your shirt making you desperately try to hide it by pulling your bag to the messed up section. Atsumu didn’t know that the person he had followed was the same person that got coffee dipped down on them. He didn’t recognize you at first because you had your hands covering your cries. He was worried for you when you ran off but when he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe if it was luck or a granted wish.

“Just wear this.” He says, handing you placing his jacket on your shoulders as your heart flutters at how he looked at you, completely filled with sincerity and the way his hand stayed on your shoulder.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asks you with a knife-like stare, purposely bumping harshly into you.

“Wow Miya, I was just walking.” You said returning the same fuel that he had.

“Then get out of my way then.”

“Thank you.” You said smiling lightly. He catches a glimpse of your smile and he feels his world light up at the sight of it.

I missed you.

“So where to?” He asks as you walk beside him just like old times. His height still intimidating you but it was still difficult to believe that this was the same Atsumu you had fallen for in high school.

“My apartment. We missed the bus so I hope it’s okay for you to wait.”

“I can always drive us there.” You’ve never whipped your head faster than this moment. You always trusted Osamu when he said that Atsumu couldn’t be a better driver than his own brother because Atsumu liked to rev up the engine like one of those scenes in a movie.

With the thought in your mind, you laughed.

Atsumu stops walking as he lets himself dwell at the sound of it.

Then there was a smile that he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry for laughing, ‘Tsumu. Never pictured you to have a car earlier than ‘Samu that’s all.” You explained as he chuckles, continuing to be beside you, a place that he finds himself to be the happiest.

“Yeah yeah I get it- I’m a little careless but not all the time y’know?” He says while he leads the way. The breeze felt comfortable now, it had a tweak of coldness but maybe it was just the atmosphere of you two.

When you walked to his car and told him your address, there was another silence but you tried to tell yourself that this was just Atsumu. Nothing to be worried about because you’ve known him for too long to act like all distant.

This is Atsumu- that's every reason that there is to feel nervous around him.

“How long have you been living there?” He asks while you started to feel just how badly you wanted to give in to sleepiness. You shifted once in a while to control yourself from falling asleep in his damn car. Every urge to just lay quiet for a while but you knew this would lead to a deep slumber.

“Ever since graduation.” You answered, annoyed that his jacket was inviting you to lay there and sleep away your stress though you were scared that once you wake up- Atsumu would be gone again.

“And you didn’t call to tell me about it?” He jokes but the chuckle that he expected never came because he knew just how awkward it’d be if you actually called just for that sole reason. Atsumu bites his lip at his failed attempt to drag the conversation on.

Then you giggled.

“I wanted to but I wouldn’t wanna bother the famous MSBY player.” You said smiling at him, proud that he continued on. You knew from Osamu of course, a single update when he had mentioned how well his restaurant had become, you also saw them in a poster once, even recognizing a few of his past opponents.

“Well, it would be a shame.”

There you are.

You finally arrived at your apartment and again you felt the slice of satisfaction as you removed your shoes and placed them on the table. You were partly thankful that your apartment was clean since you never have the time to spend a whole day in it only coming home late at night. Atsumu looks around as you prepare him a drink and a few snacks-it'd be rude not to.

Atsumu sees the photos where you won several awards for your loyalty and hardwork at your club. He sees how time passes and you grew into a version of you that he finds even more flawless then before. Your equipment and how everything was organized on your desk, he knew how much things changed because he used to see you doubt yourself every time you’d finish a paper but now you won awards because of them.

“Atsumu, is it alright if I shower real fast?” You asked while he raises a brow at you confused that you had to ask for his permission.

“Of course, Y/N- you didn’t have to ask.” He said chuckling while he sits on the couch, letting his eyes wonder around.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t rush yourself. Take yer time. “ He says while you smile at him before dashing to your room to gather new clothes, feeling like you’ve won a lottery with how happy you were to remove the coffee drenched top, tossing it to your laundry bin while you step into the shower enjoying the way the water decorated your skin, cleansing it from all the worries. While Atsumu scrolls on his phone to ease himself from the anxiousness. His finger would casually glide over Osamu’s phone number, to ask him what to do.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower like a whole new person. You saw the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up when you walked in but you pushed the thought away. He pats the seat next to him while you grabbed your notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the questions.

“Are there any uncomfortable questions you’d want to avoid?” You asked him while he shakes his head while you took note of the possible questions.

“Is it okay for the interview to be filmed?” He nodded while you leaned onto the pillow, sighing happily at how you’ve managed to calm down from the pile of embarrassment earlier.

“Thank you for doing this, ‘Tsumu- really you don’t know how much I appreciate you for this.” You said leaning your cheek on the side of the couch as Atsumu copies your actions staring at you lovingly.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He says smiling while you returned to write a list of questions for him. With every time you look down on your notebook, Atsumu’s eyes never left you while his mind recalls every moment where he msised the opportunity to tell you just how beautiful you were.

Soon, you’ve fallen asleep while he lets the feeling sink in.

I’ve never wanted to hold you more than I do now.

He sighs before placing the blanket on your body while he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his finger tracing your cheek.

“You’ll never know how much I missed you.” He whispers while you shifted in your sleep meeting his face. Before he stands up, he feels you reach for him while he’s left surprise at your touch.

“Stay please.” You whispered while he smiles weakly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I always will.”

The morning comes and you felt the blush creep on your cheeks remembering how easily you felt asleep. You wondered if Atsumu stayed, if he left- you couldn’t really blame him. So yawning and stretching when you woke up, you certainly didn’t expect to see Atsumu cooking you some breakfast. You couldn’t even move your legs, every part of you has gone stiff just admiring the way he moves.

“Hey, good morning.” He greets with a wave, a spatula in his hand, a bright smile tugged on his lips.

“Atsumu- oh god I’m so sorry.” You said as you went to him. You caught a whiff of what he was cooking and you swore you could’ve drooled knowing you didn’t even got the chance to eat dinner. Atsumu knew that of course so he called Osamu up in the morning to serve you the best breakfast he could ever make. He was initially supposed to make you dinner but you fell asleep before he could do it so this was his rebound.

“Idiot, it’s fine. Just sit down on the table and I’ll prepare the food.”

“Atsumu-“

“Just go, Y/N. I promise it’s okay- you deserve to rest before you work again.” You couldn’t even think properly with his words. It was so minimum but it was something you’d forget to do- rest. Hearing him remind you that sets a new feeling in your system. You did obey him though, you sat on the table as he even handed you coffee for him and you, placing the breakfast on the table. God, he was everything. You thought that after a few years, you two would completely drift apart but it seems like you were wrong for the hundredth time.

“Please don’t even think about ways to thank me, it’s nothing to me. “ He says taking the seat next to you while you place the food on his plate. You couldn’t even utter a word at how grateful you were for him and he’d be happy to get used to seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Atsumu, after breakfast can we have a run down of the questions first?” You asked him, growing more comfortable.

“Yeah sure.”

You sat on the couch, placing your camera on the table aligning it to the best possible angle as Atsumu sits down in front of you. You had your notebook on your lap as he praises how you looked so professional even if it was just a practice.

“Ready?” You asked while he nods with a smile as you pressed the camera to shoot so you could keep your composure, even if you struggled to.

“What does the sport mean to you?” You asked him, your eyes glimmering with the suns rays hitting it perfectly, while the words were removed from Atsumus mind. Seeing his hesitation, you decided to reassure him.

“It’s fine if you can’t answer straight away. I can always change the question if you like.” You commented, smiling at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed to answer. He nods, still not finding the exact same words to describe what he wanted to say.

“I’ll change the question for now.” You said while he let’s out a sigh before listening to you once again.

“What was the biggest struggle in your career?” He sends you a worried stare but his mind nearly bursts at his answer.

“Getting over you.”

You dropped your pen on the couch as Atsumu continued to speak since this was the answer his heart was sure of responding to.

“I tried to forget- I did. For every year that passes, the more fucking harder it gets to act like I didn’t love you back when you walked away.”

“Atsumu-“

“I know I said no- I was too late to realize how stupid I was to be scared of falling for you. I couldn’t let myself be the man who could love you when all this time I tried to hate you because I knew I would hurt you- and I already did.”

We get hurt a lot but it doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you.

Love grew and died during your second year at Inarizaki.

Before Atsumu, you found Karou. A boy who was a new recruit to your group whose helped you multiple times and has shared a conversation with you about your similar likes. There was this strange infatuation with him that even Osamu had to question how deep was the bite of love on you. You’ve fallen, of course. Occasionally leaving notes on his desk to just let him know how he made your day but it never worked. He would only paste the note on another persons desk like it was nothing. Not even getting the reaction you wanted, it felt too normal when it shouldn’t be. Realizing how this was just rejection in the shadows, you gave up. Obviously heart broken at the mere thought of how your chances were blown away. When Atsumu saw how gloomy you were that day, he had to show you how much you didn’t need Karou and there grew a different bond between the both of you.

And with a bond like that, you became attached to him.

It was all becoming clearer and clearer as you realized that you fell for the wrong person first.

“You’re too stupid to fall for a douche like him. “ He says kicking the rock that was in front of him.

“You’re lucky with that admirer of yours, Miya. I’ve never seen someone stick around you for so long.” You teased. It’s true the half of the twin hearthrob has gotten himself a sincere admire. It wasn’t one of his crazy fans- this was a person who genuinely cared for him and the words on every note he received would make the poor boy blush uncontrollably and you envied how he’s yet to realize that he too was falling for this unknown person.

While you two were oblivious to the slip up of the universe, it took a toll on you.

Because the notes you’d leave on Karous desk, always ended up on Atsumu’s instead.

“I wanna meet them so bad. Just to see if they actually care and it’s not a prank. They haven’t given me a note and it’s been what a month? I doubt it was ever real.”

“With the amount of effort they gave, I’m sure it was real.”

It’s real for me even if it shouldn’t be.

There wasn’t any other way then to accept the feelings that stayed on your skin. The moments where you thought that being around Atsumu would bring you stressful banters and more, it turned into butterflies that surrounded your room. You chose to deny it at first but remembering that graduation and good-byes were near, you had to tell him at some point.

And when you did, you poured your heart out and not even a single drop was caught.

“Last words before I forget your dumbass?” He taunts while you felt your sweat drip down the side of your forehead as you couldn’t control it anymore. You wondered if there was a simple word to describe just how much you adored him without turning it into a whole speech. This was it- you had to do it or else you’d end up being stuck on the feeling of loving him.

“I..like you Atsumu and I can’t say good-bye without telling you.”

Then there was the awful silence that he gave making you clutch onto your shirt, preparing you for the worst.

But by the way he looked so terrified and frozen, you knew.

“Atsumu?”

“No- I’m sorry.”

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I let you leave again.” He whispers as he leans closer to you, taking your hands in his while your ability to speak has been taken away by how gentle he was as his thumb caresses your hand and a look that looked so fragile.

He takes his hand and cups your cheek, pulling you close to him as his vulnerability increases.

“Do you feel the same too?” He was being so careful because a wrong choice of a word could make it all fall apart again and you could feel how tense he was but he holds you like a gem- something so beautiful that it’d cost him his life if he ever dropped you.

Your hand lands on the same hand that was on your cheek while Atsumu’s eyes widen remembering how you neglected to hold his hand before.

But it stayed.

Closing your eyes and melting in his touch, you spoke.

“I never stopped loving you, Atsumu.”

He lets his forehead rest on yours, a smile on his lips, who was soon to be on yours.

“Then be mine all over again.”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu imagines #miya osamu #inarizaki

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mavda · 3 years

Text

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) |

Ch.7: Of burdens and duties (3)

Naruto has her hand in his while his eyes scan document after document, he looks unfazed by the carriage’s movement. So does Shino, whose bugs move around the collar of his jacket and buzz out and into the window.

Sai sits in front of Hinata, his eyes full of interest as he stares at the landscape. He sometimes finds interesting features he shares with her in detail, but his body is tense, and she knows he’s ready to jump to action if needed. Naruto squeezes her hand and as she looks at him, he points out the window.

“Look,” he says, moving back to let her get a better view.

The town is filled with people and carriages and stands and it looks like too many people are in one single place. The sound is starting to be heard and Hinata can already know it will make the ground tremble. She looks at Naruto, worried.

“Don’t worry, it has the best security you could find. The Beast Tamers all gather here, you know? We haven’t had an issue since it started.”

Sai edges towards her, “I will be right beside you, my lady.”

Hinata can even feel Shino’s eyes on her and she sits back with a small smile. “I-I understand.”

Naruto comes to her, grabs both her hands on his, “I’ll be with you.”

And that is enough to make Hinata relax.

⁂⁂⁂

They don’t enter through the same way everyone else does. Their carriage deviates and enters a more calm environment, with more stern looking people around.

Hinata doesn't know if she prefers this somber looking entrance or the colorful and loud one. At least she can see they take their work seriously, as even when Naruto comes and talks to them -Shino in tow-, the guards check every nook and cranny of their entourage.

Sakura waves at Hinata from her spot. She is standing right under another carriage window, where Hinata can glance another spiky blonde head that smiles immediately after making contact with her. Lord Minato remains seated and doesn't come out. Much like herself.

Naruto is chatting with a high-ranking looking man and rests his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono. He looks relaxed, and Hinata tries to remind herself that she shouldn't burden him on this trip.

He did say this whole ordeal wouldn’t be a problem.

They get off right inside the stadium where the demonstrations take place. The carriages get lost in the distance, with a number of servants inside, who will prepare their chambers where they will rest. Naruto and his group will go up the stairs and mingle with the other Beast Tamers inside, as well as every other high-ranking noble who wants a slice of whatever they had.

Naruto is unimpressed with everyone attending this show.

His father follows behind, with Hinata right beside him. Sakura, Shino and Sai follow closely, beside them, behind them. They look as alert as ever, and even more professional and menacing than usual. Hinata keeps her head held high, her shoulders rolled back and her eyes glued to Naruto’s back. She can see from the corner of her eyes the people around them. Eyes following their group, and Hinata shudders as their eyes don’t seem to blink.

“Lord Naruto,” a man bellows. Breaking the formal ambience that surrounds the place. Hinata can see Naruto tensing and she knows he dislikes the man. He is large and comes straight to Naruto, without a care to the people around him. His eyes are beaded and they zoom in on Hinata, and she has to force herself to keep her eyes on Naruto.

Naruto moves to stand in front of her, a slight change of his feet, and Hinata lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“What a lovely wife,” shares the man and Hinata can’t help the uncomfortable feeling that overcomes her. Naruto says nothing, staring down at the man whose eyes show no sign of shame. “I would love to have a chat with the lord, if you could be so kind as to come with me. Of course, your wife is also invited, I have the most exquisite of foods at my disposal, I assure you.”

“I have yet to greet my fellow Beast Tamers, Lord Graff, I’m sure you understand.”

The man pouts his lips and tries to look behind Naruto, “I’m sure your lovely wife could come wait with me as you make your rounds, my lord.”

Sai is right beside her, but the moment Lord Graff takes a step to get a better look, Naruto grabs him by the arm and squeezes. “Do not be impolite,” he smiles.

Lord Graff scoffs in surprise, as if the mere thought of him being impolite was ridiculous. “Oh, Lord Naruto, please, I am but trying to be-”

“Naruto,” a monotone voice greets, and Naruto’s head whips around. His stance relaxes, his eyes shine and his face changes immediately into the boyish smile Hinata knows.

“Gaara!” he greets, motions for him to come closer. His body remains a wall between Lord Graff and his wife and the moment Gaara comes closer his own guards move the lord out of the way. There are two of them, a man with purple face paint that looks at Lord Graff with disgust and a blonde woman that stands next to the other guard with her arms crossed. Gaara doesn’t acknowledge the man who was on his spot before.

Naruto brings his arm around Hinata, pushes her towards him, “My wife,” he presents and Gaara looks at her. He is tall, though not as tall as Naruto, although Hinata has to look up anyways. His hair is dark red and all around his eyes he has a thick layer of eyeliner that contrasts with his pale skin, he looks menacing, and the way his face shows no emotion at all is even more intimidating. But Naruto is right beside her and Gaara is the only person he wanted to introduce to her, so Hinata bows and pinches herself to get her words out.

“My n-name is Hinata U-u-uzumaki… It’s a p-pleasure to m-meet y-you.”

Nobody around her says anything. But she wants to die. She can feel the shame rising inside of her and the tears prickling at her eyes, but Gaara remains impassive and he bows to her.

“The pleasure is all mine. My name is Gaara of the desert, I’m glad to finally meet you.” He gives her a smile. A tiny smile, the barest of movements of the corners of his mouth, but Hinata sees it, and she understands immediately that his friendship with Naruto is real and true.

Naruto moves his hand up and down her back, and he kisses the top of her head before turning to Gaara, “Do you mind taking her and my dad as I make the rounds?” He whispers.

“Of course,” says Gaara, with the same tone he has had through all their conversation.

Hinata worries whether someone has seen Naruto’s impromptu show of affection but she realizes immediately that it’s unlikely. Naruto and Gaara cover her front, Sai covers her side, Shino is at her back and Lord Minato with Sakura stand opposite him, all with their eyes away from them.

“Shino, you come with me.” Naruto pushes Hinata to Sai, “I’ll be right back.”

Sakura comes right beside her and Lord Minato covers now her back. Hinata is starting to realize that she’s being overly protected by everyone.

As Gaara brings them towards one side of the room Hinata realizes that everyone brings a couple of guards with them and they -her- do not look out of place at all. Naruto walks away with Lord Graff -who’s already chatting away- and makes a beeline for a group in the distance.

“What a fucking prick,” hisses Gaara’s male guard.

“I said we let Lord Naruto have a go at him, one punch is all he’ll need,” the blonde smiles.

Sakura is the one who comes in with the common sense. "You both know he can't do that," she sighs.

But the blonde just scoffs, "Who's gonna stop him, though? The Ten-tails?" She mocks. The male guard chimes in with another witty remark and Sakura starts bickering back.

Hinata glances at them, nervous, but Sai looks used to this and Gaara stops in front of her while pointing towards a chair. "Care for a refreshment or some food?"

Hinata shakes her head no, doesn't say anything out of shame and ducks her head to make herself look smaller. All habits she wishes she stopped doing.

"Don't worry about them," Gaara continues, "they love to banter with whoever is nearby. I don't usually fall for their shenanigans though, so they always go extra hard with people who do. Sakura is used to this." Hinata sits and whispers a thank you she wishes is soft enough to get lost. But Gaara answers back, sits beside her and crosses his legs, leaning forwards. And Hinata realizes he's looking at her. "They are my brother and sister," his hand raises towards them, pointing to them in turns, "the one with the face paint is Kankuro, the blonde one is Temari. They've known Naruto for as long as me." He turns to her again, "if there's anything I can help you with, be it answering questions or doing something for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

Hinata tenses, because although Gaara has been nothing but nice and respectful she can't bring herself to say or do anything but nod and stare in front of her.

And she hates it.

⁂⁂⁂

Naruto doesn’t come back and Lord Minato has stood and walked away to greet the people who came near them a few times already. Lord Gaara has remained unmoving and the only sound Hinata can hear nearby is the still ongoing conversation Kankuro, Temari and Sakura have going on a few meters from them. Sai has remained a few meters apart, closer to her and Lord Gaara, but still able to chime in when the group asks him a question or he feels the need to share something to their talk.

Hinata realizes that neither Kankuro nor Temari have said anything at Sai’s crude way of speaking, and Hinata soon realizes it’s because they talk that way too. Speaking what they think without wondering first how that will affect the people around them. Kankuro especially has even smirked at Sai’s words.

They have talked gossip and guarding strategies and lords and news and Hinata has absorbed all the knowledge with guilt.

Lord Gaara has remained next to her, sharing his thoughts every once in a while but she has only been able to answer with yes and no and the need to talk is only making it harder for her to do so. She wants to ask and share things and smile and have a good time. Lord Minato is near her, Sai and Sakura are near her. She feels safe, so why?

Why can’t she just mutter a simple answer longer than one word? Why can’t she smile lightly and ask a question enough to keep their conversation going? Hinata bites her lower lip, feeling the turning of her stomach as she feels shame coursing through her body.

Just ask anything. Anything. Anything, anything, anything at all.

It takes Hinata an embarrassing amount of courage to raise her head and turn her head slightly to Gaara, who catches her movement but remains still. The fact that he is nice to her makes this even worse.

She will stutter, she knows. She doesn’t want to, but she will. Feels it in the way her mouth refuses to open, in the way her tongue feels heavy and locked. She will stutter and she will hate it. So it stands to reason that she remains silent.

So she does.

Lord Minato stands again and moves away from the group, talks with a man before coming back, drink in hand. He stands right in front of her and offers the cup, Hinata reaches out and grabs it out of habit. He has shared with her drink after drink of tea in their classes, fewer as they shared more time together. As she started feeling more confident in his presence.

He gave her an excuse to remain silent.

“I think it’s time I go get Naruto away from everyone,” Lord Minato says. His voice calm and soothing. “He should be bored out of his mind by now.”

Lord Gaara nods, scans the room looking for Naruto, but the amount of people makes it difficult for him to do so.

“I’ll be back as soon as I find him, okay?”

Hinata stares at her cup, now resting in her lap and she raises her head. He’s looking directly at her, reassuring her. She nods her head, keeps it down, and feels disgraceful.

“Ye-ye-yes,” she manages to say. Lord Minato’s hand raises and pats her shoulder, and that tells her enough. He was worried.

Hinata remains as composed as she can. Back straight, head held high, and although her eyes are focused on the cup on her hands, she wants to at least appear confident.

Naruto will be back in a minute. It’s that thought that gives her a surge of self-assurance she grabs and holds onto. It’s the cup in her hands that warms her cold skin that she grounds herself with and it’s Sai’s feet moving in front of her as he moves to be beside her that Hinata focuses.

“L-l-lord Gaara?” She asks. Hating every sound that leaves her mouth, looking straight ahead to the sea of people in fear of seeing pity in his eyes.

“Yes, my lady?”

He’s coming back in a minute. He’s coming back in a minute.

“Why… h-haven’t you d-d-done a round like the o-o-other Beast T-t-tamers?”

She tenses, as worry starts to wash over her body. But whatever, she tried, she talked and asked and at least did something about their conversations. Even if he didn’t answer, even if he ignored her. She did it. And that’s what mattered to her.

There is a second of silence that freezes Hinata completely. Until Kankuro’s husky voice lets out a controlled laugh.

“Because he’s the One-Tail,” he mocks. He and Temari are now closer to them than before, as Sakura left with Lord Minato.

“Because his allegiances are already set in stone,” Temari adds with a smirk.

It’s obvious by their tone and glances at Lord Gaara that they want to get a rise out of him. But Lord Gaara stares them down. “I believe the question was directed at me.” He remains impassive and calm, and Hinata is in awe at his composure.

Kankuro snorts, “Oh, come on!”

But Gaara ignores him. “As my brother and sister shared,” he starts, giving them a bored look, “I don’t really gain anything by doing rounds. My friendship with Naruto is very well-known throughout the clans.”

“Everyone and their mothers know that Gaara listens to whatever Naruto says,” Kankuro looks at Temari, shaking his head in confusion, and Temari mimics him.

“But…” Hinata feels more comfortable now, seeing as Lord Gaara waits and listens and doesn’t bring attention to anything else but her actual question. “Then w-w-why does L-Lord Naruto makes t-the r-rounds?”

“Because he’s the Nine-Tails,” Kankuro shares. His antics with Temari dying off as Gaara didn’t fall for them. “He’s powerful as fuck, and everyone wants in on that.”

“Both physically and politically,” Temari adds, “in a way, Gaara is better off than every other Beast Tamer because of Lord Naruto.”

Hinata scans the room again, trying to find his blonde head. If he was nearer she would find him immediately. He towers over everyone here.

“He usually does the rounds to let me and Lord Minato get out of them. People will find him anyway, so he mingles, does what’s expected of him and then comes back.” He turns to her, “though he usually lets people wait for him, I guess he was eager now to get it over with and not expose you too much.”

Temari smiles at her, and Hinata blushes, “Don’t worry, Lady Hinata, we can pull off the don’t-you-dare-come-near-us mean look.”

“Kind of experts at it,” laughs Kankuro.

As if to demonstrate, they frown, glance around and effectively scare off the people around them. And Hinata finds herself relaxing a little.

#naruto #naruhina #fanfic #fanfiction #hinata hyuga #naruto uzumaki #beast tamers #ch.7 #part 3 #just realized I wrote part 1 on part 2 lol #doubt it matters #also thank you very very much to everyone who reblogs and likes <3 #and to those who write tags #I read ya #( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)#have a great one!!#see you next monday!!

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