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meetmymouth · 3 years

Note

ooh I think #7 and #17 from the blurb list would fit very well together! if you want!

THANK YOU LINDS <3<3

prompt list here, send a number!!

#7 If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle

#17 Sleeping in the same bed for the first time

THIS IS 3K IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF SO PLEASE REBLOG LMAOOOOOO!!!!!

"This is my room," comes a gruff voice behind you as you keep looking out the window, taking in the greenery and the beautiful ocean.

See, you knew he would be here.

You knew, because Harry and Mitch were attached at the hip, and you didn't mind. You didn't mind seeing your ex every time you were invited to hang out with MitchandSarah & co, except when said ex decided to be an evil arsehole.

Perhaps, calling him an "ex" was weird, seeing how your time alone only consisted of you both getting high, mostly naked as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear and promised to make you feel good, be the best you've ever had. Other than that, though, he was an insufferable bastard. Since you never hung out with the man without your friends around–getting rat-arsed and high... and the activities that followed aside–, you didn't know if he was always this annoying.

He seemed to be getting along just fine with the others, especially Sarah and the other girls, so you had no problems scratching off the "women hater" off your list. And you can't ever recall him being this insufferable while you both were fucking which was, in his case, miserable. So, it was definitely annoying. You weren't that interested in him to think that he was being mean because he was secretly in love with you. That was a myth, a pathetic myth, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't steep that low. He was just an arse, full stop.

You turn around with an eye-roll, and within seeing his face, you nearly clench your fists like a ten-year-old. "Do you live here?" You ask, hoping the boring expression on your face is also detectable in your tone.

It's certainly not a surprise when Harry scoffs.

"I don't, but I picked this room first. Since, you know," he looks around, and walks further into the room, finally stopping at the feet of the bed. "You were late. As per."

"Oh fuck off. This isn't summer camp. Besides, I don't see any of your shit around. The room was empty when I arrived."

"If you bothered to look inside the wardrobe..."

Seriously, you find yourself thinking, how the fuck did you ever end up with this man. Naked.

There's a commotion downstairs, so you both turn to the door, but much to your dismay, there's no one coming to check up on you and hopefully, save you from Harry Styles' pathetic gob.

You turn towards the window again, eyes squinting briefly at the last bits of sunshine that's glinting from between the branches.

"Well. You shouldn't have left then. You weren't here when I arrived."

Harry shakes his head, and you swear you can see his nostrils flaring if you look carefully. Though, you just watch him with a smug smile on your face as he walks to the wardrobe and pulls open the white doors. True to his word, his clothes are there, perfectly folded, and for a moment you feel a pang of guilt before you look back up at his face and see the furrowed eyebrows.

"See. My clothes. I'm sure Sarah will sort it out for you, find you another room or summat."

"There's only three bedrooms. Can't sleep with a pregnant woman and her boyfriend, can I?"

"What about Rachel and David? Aren't you best friend's with her?"

"Harry, you're ridiculous. Just–" you wipe the sweat off of your forehead, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter each passing minute. "–just sleep on the sofa. This is my first vacation this year. You go on holidays every week or so. Let us commoners have this."

"Oh, please. Didn't you have a girls weekend getaway or whatever the fuck in Soho Farmhouse two weeks ago?"

You can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth, and a raised eyebrow follows. "How do you know about that?"

"Because," he rolls his eyes, and slams the wardrobe shut. "You post seven hundred stories every day."

"You're a stalker."

"You sleep on the sofa."

You smirk, noticing how he avoided your previous statement.

To be fair, you hated posting on your story. Though, knowing Harry followed you on Instagram made posting on there fun, and seeing his username on the list of who watched your stories pop up at the very top every single time whenever you posted a story almost made you let out a mingy little laugh and rub your hands together, and scream "gotcha!".

"I won't."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"What a coincidence," you ignore the stare he's sending your way and walk towards your carry on, and start taking the contents out one by one, laying everything on the bed.

He watches with a scowl on his face, arms crossed across his chest, and a satisfied smile paints your features as you take out the toiletries bag next.

"Are you seriously unpacking right now?" Harry cranes his neck so he can see better. He looks ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed, but you refrain from saying anything.

In fact, you don't even answer him. Perhaps, you find yourself thinking, it was silly to unpack your underwear first. It wasn't as if you brought super "sexy" shit or lace everything. You can definitely feel his gaze watching your every movement as you take everything out carefully and place them on top of each other. With most of your underwear in hand, you get on one knee in front of the bedside table and open the drawer, placing everything inside and it's surprising how he hasn't claimed the bedside table yet.

"Look," he sighs. "I'll talk to Sarah, maybe you can sleep with her and Mitch–"

"–don't be stupid we're not making them sleep with other people because you can't be a gentleman and sleep on the sofa."

"Oh for fuck's sake," he growls, and you finally look at him, eyebrows raised in hopes of making him feel as stupid as he sounds right now. Unfortunately, though, he continues, "Okay, damn it, I'll sleep on the floor."

Fool.

"Common sense, Harry. Always pick sofa. No matter what."

"Were you born to make my life a living hell?"

"Look," you sit on the bed, and look around. "This is boring me to death. I'm sleeping on the bed. If you shut your gob, you can sleep with me on the bed."

Harry lets out an obnoxious laugh. "Just admit I was here first and you didn't bother checking the–"

"Yes, I didn't and what about it? I'm here now, aren't I? I'm on the bed, babes. Anyway," you get on your feet, and with one last look at him, you start walking towards the door. "I'll see you in a bit. I guess."

You both manage to avoid each other as much as you can throughout the day, and really, it wasn't that hard considering the good company of your friends, good food and good alcohol. You mainly helped Sarah and Rachel in the kitchen as the men lounged on the sun loungers, Mitch handling the grill and David helping you guys with the drinks that came in and out of the house pretty quickly with the way you lot consumed them like water.

You spend the night eating, laughing and drinking, sometimes singing along to whatever song played on David's fancy Bluetooth speaker, and everyone begins ushering inside with full bellies and most of them–except the very pregnant Sarah–with a tipsy smile on their faces.

You leave before Harry though, leaving him smoking his last cigarette by the pool while you run up the stairs and into the room, closing the door behind you. You quickly get rid of the romper and get your favourite pyjamas on, eyes searching for the orange makeup bag so you can take off the remaining makeup before bed. You knew it was silly not to do your night routine, but you still zip the bag closed with a sad expression on your face, not wanting to see your toner and night cream any more than you needed to as you throw it on the floor next to your bags. It's pathetic really, how determined you are to get in the bed before Harry can that you forego your whole routine and stick to some cotton pads. Though, plugging your charger and getting between the cool sheets make you forget all about it as you let out a sigh, and unlock your phone to do your nightly scroll before falling asleep.

As you double tap on a selfie, the door opens, and you hear him scoff, again. You keep scrolling though, and try to sneak a few glances at him as he makes a beeline for the wardrobe, and to your surprise, begins to undress. You try to stay calm, and not to think about how domestic this whole thing seems; being in the same room as him as he gets ready for bed.

Right, getting ready for bed.

You keep your eyes on your phone as his clothes hit the floor one by one, and when you look up briefly, he's got a pair of joggers on, and he's throwing the clothes he had on in the wardrobe.

He turns around, and find your gaze, and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew you'd be in bed, here, as soon as I heard someone running. Forgot you were a literal five-year-old," he mutters under his breath, loud enough so you can still hear him. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa."

"I love how you're basically arguing with yourself."

"Like I said, I'm not sleeping on the sofa. I didn't come all the way to sleep on a bloody sofa."

"Suit yourself. I guess we're sharing. Unless," you lock your phone, and place it on the bedside table. "You want to share," you shrug, adjusting your pillow and sigh at the cool fabric against your hot cheeks.

You can feel him thinking, the wheels turning in his head, and you finally hear the floorboards creek underneath his feet as he walks closer to the bed, and pushes the sheets off of you. The whole thing.

You blink in surprise. "Stop it, dude! What the fuck."

"I'm getting in! Fuck's sake, be quiet."

"You did that just to annoy me."

You're both quiet for a minute, Harry taking his rings off and then comes his socks, and he finally copies you, laying on his back on the bed. He covers the both of you, though you know it's not intentional since he couldn't do it without covering his own body with the duvet, and then he lets out a strangled sigh.

"The bed's too small."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"What?" He turns his face to you, and perhaps it's the first time he's looking at you– really looking.

His brows are furrowed, and lips turned downwards in a pout.

"I'm taking the piss, Harry. I know you're not calling me fat."

"Good," he says, though his voice isn't exactly soft. "I wouldn't."

"Good."

Silence.

It's unbearable.

Despite the hot weather, you feel yourself shiver, and you wish you were the only one in bed so you could do the whole burrito technique with the duvet. Alas... you stay where you are. You both do.

A dog barks in the distance, the high-pitched bark coming through the open window, and you can feel Harry breathing too fast beside you. You want to shout at him, tell him to fuck off and... not breathe too fast, though it sounds a bit too rude even for you, so you stay silent and wait for the dog to pipe the fuck down.

You try to turn on your side, because you could never see yourself fall asleep laying on your back like a vampire, but you almost fall, not anticipating the tiny space you've got going on. It's bad, and you know you're not going to get a good sleep. So, you find yourself contemplating about getting up and sleeping on the sofa because honestly, fuck him.

Harry shuffles next to you, presumably trying to find a good position to sleep in himself, but he lets out a groan and it startles you.

"What's wrong with you!"

"The bed's too fucking small."

"We've established that."

He sniffs, hands clenching the sheets around his body. "I don't sleep on my back. My back hurts."

You don't say anything, hoping for him to just get up and leave, go sleep on the sofa. He doesn't, though. It's another fifteen minutes before you let out another sigh, trying to get comfortable on the bed, and Harry copies you. You both turn on your sides, facing each other and Harry groans when your knee makes contact with his thigh, making you cringe in embarrassment. A quiet sorry leaves your mouth and he shakes his head, then turns the other way, facing the door.

"Fuck," he spits after a minute. "If we both want to fit, we'll have to cuddle."

"Cuddle? Fuck no."

"Just," he turns to you again, but the bed is too small for you both so his knees touch yours. "Just come closer. Either that, or go sleep on the sofa."

"Why don't you–"

"You're so stubborn! Come closer, I won't eat you or fall in love with you. Fuck."

You groan, but oblige for some reason, feeling your heart beginning to beat faster for some ridiculous reason.

It's been a long time, you find yourself trying to convince your heart. It's been a long, long time since you've been this close to a human being. Too long since you've cuddled with someone, so obviously you were going to feel a little excited, and weird. Yes, definitely weird.

You get closer and he lifts up his arm, you both sharing a look before you roll your eyes and place your hand on his wrist, placing it on your hip. He's quiet, eyes searching yours, and the crease between his brows are gone, and you want to laugh, because who knew it only took your skin against his to wipe that stupid grimace off of his face.

"I still think you're annoying," Harry mumbles, clearly sleepy. His hold on your hip becomes tighter as his thumb strokes your skin over the fabric.

"I know. Just shut up and sleep."

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #concepts #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #babyurthendofjune #ask

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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

what we want

requested: yes x2

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.

a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D

word count: 6k

Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her.

What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.

And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up.

It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.

“Jennie.”

“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.

When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”

Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”

As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.

“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”

“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’

Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”

Her?

Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. This is her?”

“This is her. Jennie?”

She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”

“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”

She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”

“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.

Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”

Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”

“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”

Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”

“Can I order something for you?”

“I’m good.”

Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”

Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.

“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”

You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”

The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”

Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”

“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised.

“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”

She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”

“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”

“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”

You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”

She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.

Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.

But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.

Of course, you had to change that.

“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”

At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”

Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”

As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”

“Why’re you here?”

You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”

Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”

“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”

Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”

“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”

“Um. Why?”

Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”

Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”

Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.

But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more.

“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”

Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”

“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”

The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. “Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”

In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”

“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”

Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”

Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”

It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.

“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway. To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”

You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”

“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”

“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”

Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”

The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”

You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”

“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”

“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”

“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”

Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”

Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”

“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.

Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.

“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”

Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.

You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.

As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”

You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”

“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”

“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”

You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.

You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.

However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry.

When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.

The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.

“Are you ready?”

“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”

You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”

“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”

“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”

The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”

You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”

Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.

“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.

You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.

Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.

Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Um. Sorry?”

She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”

“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again.

Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on.

“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”

Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”

“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”

Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”

“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”

“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”

She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.

Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”

It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”

“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”

You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”

Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed; Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.

“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.

You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”

Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”

A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”

“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”

You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”

Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.

When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”

And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

Could you write a fic where Tom is in an interview and talking about the reader as his current gf and also being his first love/childhood love?

woah i wrote kind of a lot like we got DETAILED here 😭 have fun

tom’s love life has been the topic of many conversations over the years. he’s gotten countless questions about who he’s dating and what he looks for in a partner. you’d think the hype would die down at some point, but no. even more rumors have begun to spiral as he promotes cherry.

thank the nosy interviewers for that. they’re taking all their chances to get up close and personal.

“so, let’s talk about love,” an interviewer prompts tom one afternoon. he sits up straighter in his chair, expression serious. “sure, let’s.” “what do you think about it?” she’s being vague so she’ll get the most clickable answers. “do you mean, like, in this film? or just in life?” tom wears a curious smirk now. he glances off to the side, where you’re sat watching.

you’ve been sitting in on his interviews as of late to keep him entertained. as much as the movie means to him, he gets bored of answering the same questions about it. having you there to snicker at his jokes or blow him kisses really livens things up. it’s been that way since you were little. you’re always cheering tom up even if he doesn’t realize he needs any.

“both,” the woman replies, mirroring his cheeky smile. “right, that’s what i thought.” tom clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. “so i’m not mistaken, love in my own life?” “anything you feel like sharing.” she beams into the camera while he nods to himself. you give tom a little smile of approval, which he catches from the corner of his eye. he chuckles at the gesture.

“easy enough. i’ll start with cherry, then,” he decides, getting back into the movie. the interviewer nods for him to go on. “you know, cherry’s always been kind of unlucky in the relationship department.” tom pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. “until he meets emily, and things are still a bit complicated with her. i’d say it’s the same way for me.”

you jaw drops off camera, tom doing his best to stifle a laugh. he’s the biggest tease to walk this earth. “oh, that can’t be right,” tom’s interviewer insists with a mischievous grin. “you’re one of the most eligible bachelors out there.” “not exactly eligible, actually,” he mutters and twiddles his thumbs in his lap. a smile creeps onto his face.

she doesn’t miss that. “you do have a special someone after all?” tom squints at her through the screen. “after all? who’s been asking?” he jokes, the woman laughing like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “everyone has. the entire world.” you make wide eyes at tom. he’s never given many details about his dating life before, so this is a big step to take.

“well,” he starts, glancing over at you subtly. “yes, i’m a taken man.” “by who?” the interviewer blurts. she’s the first person to get anything out of him. “um,” tom breathes out an awkward laugh. you mouth it’s okay to him, ready to give the people what they’ve been craving.

you’ve had this conversation with tom a couple of times. he’s never wanted to put any pressure on you about going public, so it’s been your call if and when you do. now, you’ve made it.

“my, uh, my best friend. it’s not harrison, for those of you who know him.” tom bites back another smile. you sport one of your own, the tips of his ears turning red. “does this best friend have a name?” the woman questions. he looks to you again for your permission to say it. you think about it for a few seconds, then you give in.

“it’s y/n. you might recognize her,” tom explains, shifting in his chair. “she’s been on my instagram a few times, other stuff like that,” the interviewer makes a mental note to insert his posts of you in the video. “yes, yes. i think i do. you said she’s your best friend?” she clasps her hands. he’s fully blushing now, you giggling quietly at the sight.

“since secondary school, yeah. we met in one of our classes. english, i believe,” tom hums. “i was sitting alone, so she came and sat next to me.” he’s grinning at the fond memory. you feel your face starting to get hot. “how sweet. it seems like you became fast friends,” the woman suggests, throwing more questions out.

“what happened that turned your friendship to a relationship?”

it was when you were two wiser and more experienced adults that you and tom came to understand your connection. there was one moment specifically that turned you from friends to something more, though. tom will share that story with his interviewer, since it seems like she’s into the gossip.

“we didn’t seal the deal until a couple of years ago.” tom breathes out a laugh at what he’s about to say. you’re well aware of it, rolling your eyes playfully. “but, there was a moment when we were kids that i knew i really liked her.” “please, spill,” tom’s interviewer happily requests. he gladly obliges.

“y/n asked me to practice kissing with her because she liked some other bloke.” tom whispers to his camera, “which wasn’t true, by the way. we’ll get to that.” you silently groan and throw your head back on your chair. he shoots you a wink before continuing. “she wanted to go out with him, and said it was a best friend’s job to help her... prepare.”

you press a kiss to your middle finger and stick it up at tom. “precious,” he sarcastically mumbles in response. “what happened next?” the woman reels him back in. tom focuses on the screen again. “right. so, i did some research on how to kiss.” he shakes his head at his former self. “i really should’ve been studying for my A levels or something.”

“when i’m all ready, i invite y/n/n over so we can ‘practice’.” tom makes air quotes around the world, you murmuring, “i hate you,” only for him to hear. “i don’t know what website i used, but it was clearly awful.” he holds a hand up to pretend it’s your face. “i went in, and i just, like, stuck my tongue down her throat. like this.” he’s recreating the moment, you cringing at the vivid image you get.

“oh, no. what did she do?” the interviewer gives tom a pained look. “she nearly vomited, is what she did. ran home right after.” tom puffs air out of his cheeks. you press your lips together in satisfaction. “anyway, we’re reminiscing on it a few years later, and y/n/n tells me something very interesting.” leaning forward, the woman gestures for him to say it.

“i was the bloke she was gonna ask out, but my terrible kissing skills, or lack thereof, scared her off.” he exchanges a knowing look with you. his interviewer gasps. “i was like... are you fucking kidding me?” he only mouths the fucking part even though it’s getting bleeped. that makes you snort. “there’s a turning point, there’s a turning point,” tom reassures everyone.

“i told her i’ve gotten better since then, and we should try again if she wanted.” the interviewer puts a hand on her heart. “did you?” tom lets out a content sigh. “we did, and then we had a long talk about feelings and all that shit.” you make a heart with your fingers for him. he puckers his lips to mime kissing you, without tongue. “we’ve been together ever since.”

“what a lovely story. thank you for sharing that with me,” the woman butters him up more. she gets another idea. “now that you two are official, do we get to meet her?” “you kind of have,” tom retorts, but still checks with you. not expecting anything to come of this, you only shrug.

“i’ve noticed you looking off camera quite a lot. is y/n there?” his interviewer points out, much to both of your surprise. you’ve been at this for weeks, and she’s the only one to say something. “uh, she is,” tom finds himself admitting. he’s a terrible liar, so he almost had to. “tell her to come say hi!” the woman pushes. you look horrified when tom peeks over.

“no, no. i don’t wanna put her on the spot,” he brushes it off. “she’s a bit... camera shy.” “come on, just for a second!” she persists, waving you over like she can see you. this lady is starting to get on your nerves. “you just told me about that steamy kiss of yours. what’s the difference?” tom quirks an eyebrow. “i don’t know if-“

he stops mid sentence when you appear next to him. it’s to shut the interviewer up. although, you might as well reveal yourself before paparazzi do it.

“never mind,” tom grins a toothy grin up at you. “you wanna have a seat, darling?” “happy to,” you hum as he pats his knee. you take your spot on his thigh, an arm slinging around his neck. he wraps his around your middle. the interviewer is so stunned, she’s finally out of things to say. this could quite literally break the internet.

your voice a low whisper, you speak into his ear. “i can’t believe i’m doing this. you should’ve stopped me.” tom squeezes you closer and tilts his head to the side. “what if i didn’t want to?” “my god.” you plant a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving tom’s mouth hanging open.

“there’s your thumbnail.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland request #tom holland smut

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lucy90712 · 3 years

Text

Dream- face reveal

wc- 1971

Warnings: use of dreams real name

~ I have been friends with this guy on the internet Dream for about 5 years now, we talk all the time but we have never met in person and I have never seen his face. He doesn't show his face on the internet and I've never asked so it just never happened, he knows what I look like all too well because I like sending him stupid selfies and we FaceTime in the middle of the night all the time.

We have been trying to meet in person for years but things keep getting in the way and changing our plans first family issues, then a hurricane and then a whole pandemic. Despite all of this we have finally set a date to meet which is not going to change not for anything or anyone. It's going to be a big day or should I say month, as insane as it sounds I'm going to move in with Dream and Sapnap one of our other friends for a little while to really make this trip worth it even if it only lasts that long.

The process has been difficult because for me to get to Florida I need to get a plane which requires me to get tested before I fly and for my own piece of mind I have been strictly quarantining for the past two weeks but its finally here. I fly out tomorrow morning. I went and got tested yesterday and got my negative result today which I need to get on the plane.

I've been packing all day today because to be there for a month I need a bunch of my set up and cameras so that my content doesn't just stop but then I also need clothes and I can't seem to get both things to fit quite right.

At one point my phone started ringing but there was a mountain of stuff everywhere so I had to dig around to find it and when I did I saw that it was a FaceTime call from Dream, I picked up and immediately put my phone down to get on with my 5th attempt at packing.

"Yo hows it going?" Dream asked

"I'd say pretty average right now I'm super excited for tomorrow but my bag is giving me a hell of a fight" I replied

"Prop your phone up and I'll try and help" he said

I did as I was told and got my small tripod to rest my phone in where you could see what I was looking at. Honestly it was a mess and I was kind of embarrassed but Dream didn't need to know that and besides my face wasn't in frame so he couldn't see how embarrassed I was. I attempted putting everything in a slightly different way to last time which seemed to work until it came to fitting in my tripod and my wash bag of which there was no room for.

"Fuck sake I thought I had it then" I raged slightly

"Ok take out the webcam and forget about the tripod because I have ones that you can use and then try because I think that should give you enough room" he said

"Hell yeah thanks dream" I said after zipping up the suitcase

I flopped back on the floor tired from the minimal amounts of effort I had put in today which just shows how incredibly unfit I am. I recovered before getting up and moving my phone to my desk where I sat to talk to Dream.

We talked for a while until Sapnap came in and I talked to him for a little while, he's been living with Dream for a few months so he warned me about a few things like you don't wake Dream up which I took note of and he told me that Dream will just come and sit in your stream. Eventually they had to leave so I was left on my own to just kind of chill until it was an acceptable time to go to sleep.

Skip to the morning

I woke up at 5am when my alarm went off, I have a love hate relationship with my alarm because I only ever use it when I have something going on which is exciting but the sound makes me want to throw my phone out the window. Despite my annoyance I got up and went straight to the bathroom to shower and get dressed, I thought about wearing something nice but then I realised I had a 5 hour flight and I couldn't bare the thought of being sat down for that long not in comfy clothes. My comfy outfit consisted of leggings and one of my ex boyfriends hoodies because I never gave it back and I'm over it enough to just wear the hoodie whenever I want.

At just before 6 I got in my Uber to head to the airport seeing as my flight was at around 8 it would be wise to get there early. I wasn't sure how busy the airport would be seeing as you aren't meant to travel but I don't think I've ever seen an airport that wasn't busy.

I made it to the airport and as I assumed it wasn't heaving but there was still a fair amount of people around. I made my way through the crowds and checked in for my flight before heading through security and then making it to the main part of the airport. That part was less busy as there is more space for people to spread out into which made me much less anxious about people being too close. I had a little while to wait for my flight so I went and got some food because I haven't eaten today, and I don't want to end up with a headache.

When it was time for my flight to board I went to the gate and got straight into my seat watching as more people boarded but not as many as I expected, it was clear that all of the people on the flight had a good reason to be going to Florida and not just going on holiday and no one was sat together so all rules were being adhered to.

My flight landed 5 hours later and everyone filed off the plane going there own way leaving me kind of lost in a place that I wasn't used to and with the anxiety of going to meet Dream for the first time. I had a bit longer to wait because I had to get an Uber to the house even though dream offered to come and pick me up I told him not to because the less people at the airport the better and just incase people recognised me I didn't want him to accidentally face reveal.

I collected my suitcase and went straight out to the car park to get in my uber who was waiting just outside the doors in the designated area for taxis. As soon as I got in the car I text Dream letting him know I was on my way and sharing my location just in case things went south.

My uber stopped outside this one house and I got out walking up the drive taking in the house number to make sure I was at the right place which I was. Thats when the nerves really kicked in, I was about to meet one of my best friends in person for the first time. This is so insane to think that after all there years we get to do all the stupid things friends do.

I got to the door and rang the doorbell waiting the few excruciating seconds before I heard movement behind it indicating that there was someone there. It opened slowly and the first person I saw was sapnap who of course I was excited to see but we have talked properly on FaceTime before so I already know what he looks like.

Next another person popped up behind pushing sapnap out the way and giving me a hug straight away I knew it had to be dream but he ran over so quick that I didn't get to take in anything other than the fact he was hugging me. He pulled away and I got to look at his face, he looked pretty much exactly how I thought he would from the descriptions I have heard. As much as wavy length doesn't sound like a thing it somehow fit his hair and his eyes were also super green, he was definitely taller than I expected though this man towered over me like it was nothing and could definitely push me to the ground in a second but he looked kind just how you want a friend to be.

After a few minutes of freaking out that this was actually happening they let me inside and gave me a tour of the house showing me my room and the set up they had put together for me with a webcam and tripod just like dream said. They finished off the tour before I was made to sit and play whatever game they wanted with them.

We played an assortment of games for hours on end before we ordered food for dinner which we ate all chilling on the sofa. I almost forgot that my followers didn't know I was here but when I remembered I stole patches from dream and got him to take a picture of me with her to post on twitter and Instagram because people would get it without me having to explain. Not much of a grand reveal considering Sapnap did the same when he got here but I didn't really have any other ideas I mean its not like I can just do dream's face reveal for him with a picture on my twitter can I. The response to my tweet was insane within minutes people had got it trending and they were freaking out with all sorts of theories of if I'd officially moved in or if I was just visiting although both were kind of right.

Having spent a few hours here now I feel very at home they boys are really welcoming making sure I'm all good and not too tired after my flight which of course I am but sleep is for the weak so I'll wait. I have been told to call the two of them by their real names unless its on stream which feels kind of odd because I'm use to calling them what their know by despite knowing their real names the whole time. They have given me a nickname which I now go by to make it fair.

It was sad when the day came to an end when we all decided it was best to get some sleep even though I think their going to stay up and they said it for my own sake because I've been yawning non stop for the past 2 hours but either way I'm going to go to sleep and this day (one of the best days of my life) will become that of a memory.

Although I don't think this day could have gone any better its consisted of everything I've ever wanted to have in a friend but none of my friends back home if you can call them friends are into the same things as me so it never works out. Now I have two friends who share the same interests and have the same god awful sleep schedule so we can stay up messing around together if we want to which is what life as a 20 year old should be like. Fun.

#dream x reader #dream #mcyt #dsmp #dream team

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harpersplay · 3 years

Note

Genuine non-troll white woman here - you wrote "So I already knew that Good Girls was a white feminism phantasmagoria...But, jesus fucking christ, y'all are just showing your true colours lately. The way you talk about a MOC in relation to a white woman is disgusting." Not asking you to call out specific people or posts or start any kind of flame war but what would be a general example of what you are talking about? I follow a good chunk of people and I'm not seeing this maybe b/c I'm not following the same people, maybe out of willful blindness, maybe I'm not recognizing it - again, b/c of ignorance, etc. Just trying to understand what you mean - and not do it obviously, if I am doing it.

I apologise for taking a longish time to answer this. Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to get into it. Anyway, I'd first like to say that this is all my opinion. What bothers me might not bother someone else. BIPOC are not a monolith. Even subsections aren't. Not all Mexican trans men are a monolith. Neither are all Japanese lesbians. You get the idea. And that's not even including people like Ben Carson or Caitlyn Jenner—people who support and work for policies that actively harm the marginalised group of which they are a part. Secondly, I know this isn't your intention, but asking POC to tell you what is ok to do and what is not is a slippery slope to "my [blank] friend said this was ok." Finally, the fandom is quite small so it is pretty hard to give general examples. I don't know if it's more trouble to quote specific posts or not, because some will think it is about them anyway. Anything I'm going to mention I've seen on Tumblr, Instagram, Reddit and/or Twitter. But there are definitely popular Tumblr blogs that all push the same narrative. Oh, and one last thing, I haven't seen any of what I'm referring to from people I follow.

Ok, let's go. For a very long time, mainly WOC have pointed out the racial problems within the show and the extremely dismissive attitude about those problems from mainly white women. And while these same women have written thousands (even tens of thousands) or words about Beth (it's always Beth) and her struggles and the amazingness of such a complex female character (ymmv), they brush aside commentary about racism as either nitpicking, not understanding the show is about the 3 women (tell that to all the white men with fleshed-out storylines), or misogyny. The last is especially hostile because they are often talking over Black women and misogynoir is a very real fucking thing that couples the fun of being hated for being a woman with the delight of good old-fashioned racism. They espouse the idea that people having a problem with Beth are all covert & overt misogynists. But talk out the other side of their mouths that they can't possibly be racist even when they support racism in the show or ignore concerns brought up by fans of colour. And that is just the absolute height of hypocrisy. Because by the former they acknowledge that people in a marginalised group (women) can still be anti- that group (a phenomenon with which I agree). But in the latter, suddenly they don't understand that concept.

Specific to the post you are responding to, fans that purport to like Brio write about the relationship in ways that reveal how much of their enjoyment comes from Rio being inferior to Beth. It's all about what he can do for her, how he acts against his best interests for her, how he literally denies himself sexual pleasure for her. Those are all meant to show how in love he is with her. But the show never bothers to tell us why. And, no, this is not because the show is so deep. Other romantic relationships they have scenes that are explicit about the characters' feelings. But Rio, after being shot, after being betrayed, after being mocked, is just so in love with Beth....because. (MYSTERIOUS!) And the Beth stans are more than fine with this because they think everyone should be as obsessed with Beth as they are. But it's bad storytelling. And, in this particular case, it gets into very dicey racist tropes. A white women treating her Latino lover like an afterthought is not the same as a white women treating her white lover like an afterthought. It just isn't. And if some of these fans are as smart as they pretend to be, they know that. They just don't care. Much like the showrunners.

There was so much talk defending the drawn-out Boland marriage because why can't we understand how hard it is for Beth—who is, at various times, claimed to be emotionally abused by Dean or staying with him because it is safe and comfortable—and we don't appreciate how difficult it is for her (I may be one of the few divorced people talking about this show on Tumblr, so this has always made me laugh). Yet there was nothing but glee when Rio flipped on his brousin (who was written as both abusive and safe) for Beth. Where was the empathy for Rio and how hard it was for him? Especially because, unlike Beth, he didn't even have one parent? Hadn't the Beth stans used her very tragical history™️ to explain away her every shitty act? idk, not having any parents and going to jail (as a minor?) and being betrayed by your family seems pretty tragic. But I didn't see them all of a sudden excusing Rio's bad behaviour. Because, feminism or something?

What about Beth's feelings? Last season she spent trying to have him killed. This season she spent looking annoyed by him. Throughout both she talked down to him in a specific white woman way that every BIPOC has experienced, even if some of them are cool with it. There were multiple opportunites for Beth to talk about her feelings with Ruby and/or Annie, but the writers made the deliberate choice to always make it about sex (and god, the immature way they had these three grown women talk was fucking obnoxious). She spent the last 2 seasons also wanting him out of her life to the point that a majority of her actions in S4 were motivated by getting to Nevada with her husband and kids. Beth doesn't care about Rio but Rio needs to put Beth above everything because he's just so in love like he's never been before (which is blatant Marcus & Rhea erasure). And anyone who doesn't think Beth would have just as happily been sitting on that bench plotting how to "run the city" (hahahahaha!) with Nick if the situation worked out differently hasn't been paying attention.

So, what do we have? A white woman who is constantly excused (by the loudest portion of the fandom) for all her ill treatment to her Black BFF & her Black husband, her Asian coworker, her Latina "friend," and Rio (among others) because her life is hard and who is not required to even be nice to her supposed "endgame". And a MOC who is expected to accept being treated poorly by the white woman because he loves her.

And, a last thing, this attitude grossly crossed over into talk about real people when the fans—who self-righteously claimed to be above anon sources or talking about the actors—latched on to the narrative and enjoyed blaming the MOC actor for the cancellation of the show, even dragging his insignificant (in terms of influence) Black wife into it. All while conveniently ignoring that the creator/showrunner is a white woman. The star & producer is a white woman. The people making the decisions at NBCU & Netflix were white women. All white women with so much more power than the Latino actor.

Shit, did I answer your question? I know this is a lot. But I could honestly make mulitple posts on each issue I touched on here. Basically, white people ain't slick, be they content creators or fans. We see how & what y'all talk about. We see that Rio not having a last name is not a big deal to you and we know why that is. So we're fucking tired. And we're over a show that had so much potential crapping all over their POC characters to prop up a white woman. And we're repulsed by the white women in the fandom who use their tears to seem oppressed and who toss around the word misogynist because POC dare call a Karen a Karen.

#nbc good girls #good girls nbc #racism in the text #racism in fandom #fragile whiteness #white feminism #what fandom chooses to talk about #and what it chooses to ignore #anon asks

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agwitow · 3 years

Text

Alpha Wolves

content warning: swearing, mild violence

Marcus yawned, his jaw cracking, and shook out his pants. It had been a long night, helping two pups with their first change. They were already packed into their parents’ SUVs, fast asleep, and on the way to their homes. In a few months they would be good to join a pack. It wasn’t always as simple with new shifters, but those two each had a parent who was one as well. Even at eight and ten, they knew a fair amount of what it meant to be a lycanthrope.

Dressed in sweats and a light cotton long-sleeved shirt, he ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. Full moon changes always made his hair grow. Even though he’d been clean-shaven before the change, he had what felt like two-days of growth now. Shaggy hair didn’t bother him nearly as much as a beard did, though by the end of the three days he’d need to get that trimmed as well.

He padded barefoot into the little cabin that served as his base of operations while helping new shifters and started a pot of coffee brewing. He hated the stuff, but it would be at least a couple hours before he could head home to sleep, so he needed something to keep him awake.

While it percolated, he checked his phone. Three emails from work, two from the pack, and some spam. He’d just opened the first email when the phone rang.

“Porter Consulting.”

“Mr. Porter, it’s Deputy Palerma from the EKSD,” a male with a pleasant tenor said.

East Keddol was a small town several miles from Hapburgh, the city Marcus lived and worked in. It was in the interesting position of being almost perfectly between Hapburgh pack territory and Redview pack territory. Surprisingly few places fell into the odd in-between spaces between packs, and, as far as he knew, no one had developed any specific protocols for dealing with them.

“How can I help you today, Deputy?”

“We have a shifter—twenty-three-year-old male—who attacked his friends when he shifted for the first time. Miss Davidson recommended I call you.”

Kaelyn Davidson did for the Redview pack what Marcus did for the Hapburgh one. She was, if he remembered correctly, also a month or two out from giving birth. Handling an adult shifter who’d already hurt people was probably not high on her list of ways to spend her time.

“I see. Is your new shifter awake?”

“No. We had to hit him with a tranq to be able to bring him in. He’s changed back, but hasn’t woken up yet.”

Marcus snorted. Safety Departments were, mostly, better than the old police system, but sometimes they were still a little too trigger happy. At least it was a tranquilizer dart instead of a clip of bullets. “I’ll send someone to pick him up. He’s going to wake up before they get there, and he’s going to be cranky and hungry.”

“I’ve taken the class on shifters, Mr. Porter,” Deputy Palerma said, sounding offended. “There is a post-shift recovery kit in the fridge.”

He stifled a sighed. “If that’s all you have, that’s fine, but it would be better if the new shifter could get freshly made food. Eggs, nuts, oats, cottage cheese or Greek yogurt, and pumpkin seeds are best. Avoid meat, if possible, especially red meat.”

“I thought shifters need protein the morning after?”

“We do, and the foods I listed are all high protein items. New shifters can find meats to be… an issue at first. As I’m not able to speak with your young man at present, it’s better to be cautious.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before Palerma said, “Alright. Who will be coming, and when should we expect them?”

“It’ll depend on who is free.”

“Can’t you just tell someone to do it? You’re the alpha, aren’t you?”

Marcus had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning. That damn study from the 40s. “That’s not quite how things work. All pack members have proper ID.”

“Fine,” he said, the word ending with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Thank you. Someone will be there between 10:30 and noon.”

Once they’d said their farewells, Marcus sent out a quick message through the pack’s group chat.

New shifter, East Keddol holding, possible alpha complex. Any takers?

He set the phone down and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding enough cream and sugar to make it mostly palatable, before settling on a stool at the tiny kitchen’s bar-height table. He’d drunk half the cup before a chime indicated he’d gotten a response. Two more chimes rang out before he’d picked the phone back up.

Eddie: I’m free but never handled an alpha complex b4 wdin2k?

Ksenia: lol take a muzzle

Julianne: y can’t the Reds take em?

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, and replied: Kaelyn’s 8 mo. Pregnant. Take the green SUV, put him in the back, and keep the divider up.

Eddie: is it that dangerous?

Thomas: alpha-complexers are just assholes

Julianne: TOM! There are CHILDREN in this chat

Thomas: no regrets!

Marcus temporarily turned notifications off for the group chat, replied to the most important of the work emails, set up reminders for the other two, then headed for the cabin’s futon. By the time he’d make it to his apartment in the city, he’d barely have any time to sleep before he’d need to head back out to meet the new shifter. So he’d nap on the futon and feel stiff for most of the afternoon.

A little after 2pm, the rumbling and crunch of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive to the cabin announced the arrival of Eddie and the new shifter. Marcus set aside his laptop and headed out to the porch to greet them. He was still barefoot and wearing sweats and the long-sleeved shirt, but he’d run a trimmer through the beard so he felt less like a back-woods mountain man.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before the back door opened and a young man stepped out with a glower. He was around average height, with enough muscle mass to indicate he worked out at least somewhat regularly. Dark blond hair hung to his shoulders and a thick beard wrapped his jaw—though whether that was a stylistic choice or the moon driven change accelerating his hair growth even more than it did for Marcus was unclear.

“You Marcus?” the young man demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and leaned against one of the porch supports. “I am. And you are?”

“Joseph.”

He nodded and shifted his gaze to Eddie, who’d stepped around to the front of the SUV. “How was the drive?”

Eddie shrugged, his gaze darting to Joseph and then away. “S’okay. Wouldn’t want to do it again, though.”

“Don’t blame you. Thanks for doing it, though. See you next week for a run, okay?”

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Of course. Later, Marcus.”

Joseph scoffed. “Like he would be any good.”

Marcus shook his head and stepped down off the porch. He was a little shorter than the new shifter, though broader in the shoulders and with more muscle mass. “You will respect each and every member of our pack, or you’ll be sent to Palstead Institution. It is not a pleasant introduction to being a shifter.”

“Whatever, man. Just give me whatever stupid speech you’ve got so I can challenge you.”

“There will be no ‘challenging’ here.”

“Fuck that. I ain’t no submissive bitch.”

“What you do or don’t do in the bedroom has no relevance to this situation.”

Red flooded Joseph’s face a moment before he took a swing at Marcus. He’d obviously had a little bit of training, but the movement was still too big to be truly effective.

Marcus side-stepped and twisted a little so that he had more leverage as he placed a palm against Joseph’s arm and pushed. It wasn’t a big push, but the kid had overextended himself and it knocked him off balance enough to make him stumble. He took a step back and waited for the next attack he knew would be coming.

Joseph didn’t disappoint. He came up swinging wildly, rushing toward him as if he couldn’t decide whether to beat his face in or tackle him to the ground.

Marcus calmly deflected each blow, leading Joseph in a circle as he side-stepped and backed away from the attacks. Less than a minute later, Jospeh was panting and struggling to even come close to landing any blows.

“Have you finished with your temper tantrum, yet?” Marcus asked.

Joseph glared at him but stopped, bending over with hands on knees as he panted.

“You seem to be under the misunderstanding that pack members fight each other. Different packs rarely even fight each other.”

“How…how do you know who’s alpha, then?”

“There is no ‘alpha.’ Not the way you’re thinking, anyway.”

“What?”

Marcus sighed and took a seat on the ground. The grass was soft and, thanks to a sunny morning, contained no hint of dampness. After a moment’s hesitation, Joseph slumped down as well. “Pack is family. Would you pick a fight with your dad to try and take over the family?”

“No…”

He shrugged. “Picking a fight with a pack member makes about as much sense. We each have a role to play, and that role is based on our skills and personality and knowledge. Not on who we’re able to beat up.”

“Aren’t we wolves? At least partly?”

“Yes. And that’s how wolves behave.”

Joseph stared at him blankly.

He sighed again. “Come inside. I’ll make you a tuna sandwich and you can read one of the brochures.”

Joseph followed him inside, silent, but with a simmering edge of anger beneath his exhaustion. Once the full moon was over and the forced changes weren’t sapping his energy, he would be a real pain in the ass if Marcus couldn’t nip the problem in the bud.

“Here,” he said, picking up a glossy tri-fold and handing it over. “Have a seat. Read. I’ll make the sandwiches.”

He settled onto a stool, shoulders hunched and brows drawn. “Why Alpha-Dog Theory is BS,” he read. “Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Marcus replied. “Some of the pack wanted to title it It’s Not Your Inner Wolf, You’re Just an Asshole, but that seemed a bit confrontational.”

“… Oh.”

“Mhm.”

(Moon-Bound - part 2)

If you enjoyed this, you might be interested in my published work, which can be found at: Prairie Owl Publishing ♦ Amazon♦ Kobo♦ Chapters/Indigo♦ Barnes & Noble ♦ Thriftbooks

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#writing #writeblr #flash fiction #werewolves #original fiction #urban supernatural

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knightofthem00n · 2 years

Text

Title

I never get how people post so regularly on things like Instagram stories, I mean like I get it for people who use it for business or they’re some kind of influencer. I myself am an artist so I get how it’s important that you stay relevant, or else you get washed up in the forever abyss that is the internet. But I’m talking about real people, the kind of people who don’t really have anything interesting going on in their life and just pretend they do, the kind of people who follow trends just because everyone else is doing it but don’t actually like the trend that much. Those kind of people. My Instagram page is full of them, all people from my school mostly, I tend to get suggested to peoples accounts and they follow because they know me and are desperate for followers because apparently masses of people who you don’t know seeing what you post freely online is something to want in life. I may have a relative hate for most of them but I do follow them back purely because people watching is fun. Their Stories are always full of the most pointless shit I have ever seen. It’s mostly Q&A’s, which I find incredibly amusing because the people hosting it are never really interesting, and have about 42 followers at maximum, yet still they get a good twenty questions for every Q&A they post. I wonder how many are just from their own alt accounts. I genuinely find it so odd that people will post things like they’re famous to a group of people who they see every day at school.

I’ve never really got social media though, like I have it because my friends have it, as a person I’m pretty much expected to have it, I'll post rarely on things like Instagram, maybe a dog photo or some place I went to, distant relatives and old school friends like that kinda stuff. So maybe I do the same thing, But It feels more like a diary I only pick up one every three months or so when I find I have something to say. I feel like in my three posts of my dog and my best friend it could mean more than a Q&A people don’t care about. I think what makes the big difference is that I'm not some guy that spends all his time complaining about how single he is, you know those “me and who?” posts. Or constantly pushing their mostly useless political opinions, that in the big picture no one cares about because its the kind of thing people only talk about online. I don’t suppose social media has any purpose though.

Hence this post, I felt like actually saying something. This post doesn’t make a point, or have a deeper meaning. I just wanted to type. So I did. It feels really nice though, I mean like. You see all these people trying to constantly string out decent content, and they get burnt out. But typing, absolute bullshit, it’s actually very nice Indeed.

-Rem

#rant #ifeltlikeit #mightpostonmyinstagram #secondpost #notitle

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years

Text

Body Insecurities Series

Rated: T for implied sexy times and language

Members: Jin and Yoongi

Body struggle: Your breasts

Jin

Today was a day full of mistakes. Mistake #1: You scrolled through Instagram for the 50th time today. You knew better. But the photo of Jin and that model now had 2.1 million likes. Htf was that even possible? You thought. I mean, you knew the two fan bases were huge, but jeez.

Mistake #2: You read the comments section. The one talking about how your boyfriend was so hot and so was the model and that they were probably dating and how she had the perfect body and “wow most Korean girls aren’t that curvy,” “Damn, I bet Jin couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off that.”

You were petite. You did not have an hourglass figure. In a world of alleged hourglasses, apples, and pears, you were a carrot. Or a french fry. A very straight french fry. You had gone through your middle school phase of super padded bras. Your high school phase of little silicone cutlets. And even your twenty-something phase where you looked into cosmetic surgery. But you thought you had come to terms with your aerodynamic figure by this point in your life.

You sighed. You had promised yourself you would not be this kind of girlfriend. You knew you were dating a celebrity. You knew what you were getting into. It still sucked though. You heard the door to your apartment unlock.

[Y/N]?” You heard Jin yell from the foyer.

“I’m in here,” you responded, getting up and walking over to him.

“Hey beautiful,” he said as he exited the foyer and reached down for a hug. You smiled as he always hooked his arms under yours even though he was taller. Weirdo. I wonder if he hugged that model. You found yourself thinking. Goddammit brain. Stop.

“Hey! Did you have a good day today? You’re home so early.” You said as you walked into the kitchen.

He followed you, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing a drink. “Yeah. We filmed an episode of Run today and we actually completed our missions early so here I am,” he smiled while taking a swig of the drink.

You looked over at him, “I thought you were doing shots with that model today?” You said without thinking.

He thought for a minute, trying to remember what you were talking about. He pulled some chicken out of the refrigerator, “That was last week. You know the content creators hold on to photos for months at a time. Today’s Run episode won’t even air for like 8 months.” He said nonchalantly. Like it was no big deal. Because to him, it wasn’t.

“Oh.” You said as you prepared the rice maker. “Was she nice?”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Since when do you take an interest in who I work with? Other than when it’s an artist or actor you’re a fan of.” He could guess where this conversation was headed. He sat the chicken down on the counter.

“No reason,” you responded.

“She was fine. We didn’t really talk, but she was polite to her stylists and stuff I guess.” He said as he began to marinate the chicken.

The rest of the evening passed as normal as possible with the two of you cooking and eating dinner. You tried hard not to be an insecure weirdo but it was difficult. You left your phone in the bedroom to resist the urge to check insta again.

“What do you want to do tonight?” you asked him since he rarely had a free evening.

He had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Netflix and Chill. Is that what the kids call it?”

You laughed, “Yeah like 5 years ago old man,” you teased him as you joined him on the couch.

“You pick, I don’t care.” He said, handing you the remote. You scrolled through mindlessly before deciding on something.

You tried to focus on the movie but all you could focus on was the actress’s perfect bodies. You didn’t even notice how much you were zoning out until the movie abruptly stopped. Jin had paused it. You looked over at him.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.” you said, feeling your face flush. You had said it too quickly though and Jin noticed.

“Jagiya. Talk to me.” Jin said wrapping his arm around you.

“I just...I’m feeling really awkward after seeing the picture of you with that model and reading all those comments about how perfect she is and how you two look so good together and how she has perfect tits and I have zero tits and I just feel really bad about myself now.” You stumbled through your confession all at once.

“Oh Jagi...There’s so much going on up there,” he ran his hand down the side of your face. “Yes. She is very pretty. And so are most of the people I work with. And so are you. I’m not going to lie about that. And her boobs are fake.”

You looked at him incredulously, “How do you know?”

He rolled his eyes at you and raised his eyebrows. “Really? You really think those are real?”

You scoffed, “No but I….”

“[Y/N] If you want fake boobs, we can buy them, but I love you and your body just the way you are.”

You looked away. “You’re just saying that.”

Jin sighed, “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I’m Worldwide Handsome. If I wanted to date a supermodel or someone with huge boobs, I would have done it. I’m with you because I want to be. Because I like you. I’ve liked you since I met you and I think you are beautiful just the way you are.”

You didn’t have a counter argument for that. It’s not like he didn’t have women throwing themselves at him all the time. You nestled back into his side.

“Thanks Jin.” you said.

“No need to thank me. I have clearly been lacking in telling you how beautiful you are and I shall remedy it immediately.” He kissed the top of your head.

Yoongi/Suga

It was time for bed and you had just finished brushing your teeth. You took off your dress and looked in the mirror. You frowned. You grabbed your boobs in your hands and pushed them up, back to where they used to be. Ah much better. You sighed as you let go and watched them sag back down to their now natural state. You groaned and put a bralette on and then put on Yoongi’s black hoody as well.

You walked back out of the bedroom and were surprised to see Yoongi had wandered into the bedroom. You always went to bed way earlier than him; your office job required a much earlier morning than his job. He turned and looked over at you and then opened his arms. You smirked and walked over, lying down on top of him and greeting him with a kiss. “Coming to bed early tonight?”

“No...Just visiting the bedroom in hopes of some other bedroom activities.” he ran a hand through your hair and gave you a suggestive look.

“Oh really?” you said before pressing your lips against his. His hands moved down feeling around your underwear and pulled at the fabric to lift up your shirt. Well, his shirt. You sat up and finished pulling it over your head before settling back down on top of him. The two of you continued to make out for several minutes, slowly losing more and more bits of clothing until all that remained on was your bra.

You hoped Yoongi wouldn’t notice, but as he laid on top of you, he started to rub a hand under your bra band. “I think you’re forgetting something.” he commented playfully.

You tried to ignore it, putting on a sexy voice, “I just want to get to the main event.”

“All right then, let’s do it,” he said and started to pull on the band to help you remove your bralette.

You froze up. “No. I want to keep it on.”

Yoongi gave you a perplexed look and rested down on one elbow, running the other one along your collarbone. “Ok. It’s not a big deal. Is there any reason?”

You looked away, not really wanting to answer. You were usually very confident but lately this had really been bothering you.

“I thought you were just really into borrowing my hoodies, but I’m guessing something else is bothering you.” He said as he gently touched your face, forcing you to look at him.

“I just...I just hate my saggy boobs ok? They’re gross and I don’t want to see them.” You blurted out.

Yoongi looked a little surprised for a minute. “That’s what you’re worried about? But they’re so cute. And I love them.” He said and you actually believed him.

“It’s your body, I’m not going to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And I can’t tell you how to feel. But you should know that I really like them. I like how they feel in my hands.” He gently rubbed the outside material of your bra, “and how they feel in my mouth,” he leaned down to kiss you, “And how they feel against my body.” You felt him gently pushing himself against you beneath the sheets and a quiet moan escaped your lips.

“How? They fall into my armpits when I lay on my back.” you whined. You were also half laughing at how ridiculous you sounded.

He smirked. “That’s gravity. You want me to tell you what my balls do when I lay down?”

“No. Definitely not,” you laughed as you raised your head up to kiss him.

“Alright, we’ll work on helping you feel better about this, ok?” He kissed you again.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts jin x you #jin x reader #bts suga x you #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #jin scenarios #bts seokjin x reader #body posititivity #bts boyfriend

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

Text

dance in the dark (one)

words: 4.5k | warnings: 18+ content. smut, drugs and alcohol mentions. mentions of blood, weapons, serial killers, cults, etc. DO NOT interact with this fic if you are under 18

masterlist | requests

pairing: professor!spencer reid x student!reader

an: this is part one of a continuing prof reid fic, i have no update schedule for this so please bare with me lmk what you would like to see also send more prof reid requests i wanna do little non plot side blurbs to this fic with your ideas!!!!

What do you think the crowd at a sleazy downtown bar on a Wednesday night looks like? Here’s a hint- it’s pretty pathetic. If you’re at this place on a week day, really any night at all, you’re probably not in the best place. And that was true, for you. Although from the outside it appeared you had everything completely together, the truth you tried so desperately to lock inside was clawing it’s way out- and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold yourself together.

Tomorrow was the start of your last year in grad school, something that should be a major accomplishment. But you were transferring here, after some unfortunate events that happened last semester. You’re not talking about that, though, remember? It’s a new year, a new city; you had the chance to move on from your past. But the only way you could do that is if you... kept it locked inside.

But you’d been doing that all summer, pretending to be someone you’re not, even using a fake name with strangers. You could completely reinvent yourself, and no one would ever know. And as you downed another jack and coke, you stared in curiosity at the lonely man on the other end of the bar, flipping through pages of what seemed like an exceptionally boring book.

He caught you looking at him, to which you quickly glanced away to pretend you weren’t, but you caught a slight smile out of the corner of your eye. You stared at the rows of alcohol behind you, avoiding looking in any direction, especially his. But you felt yourself smiling, a handsome man who had no idea who you were. Who didn’t know your name. That was something you couldn’t say before you were here.

“That guy down there bought this for ya,” the bartender huffed, his deep and raspy voice perfect matching his large and intimidating exterior. You smiled down at the glass, a perfectly mixed Jack & Coke with a lime. You raised the glass up to him and shook it, letting the ice clang against the glass.

“Thanks for the drink,” you said, raising your voice so he could here you.

“I’m not... super great at the ‘walking up to a pretty girl and saying hi, thing’. So I figured that was my best bet.” He smiled, taking a slow sip of his own drink, which looked like scotch.

“Can I come sit with you?” You asked, looking at the empty seat next to him.

“Of course,” he grinned, clearing his papers and readjusting himself in the seat. “I’m, uh, Spencer, by the way.”

(Y/N),” you responded, playing with the straw in your drink.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?” He asked, a serious tone to his voice.

“Of course,” you replied, hesitantly.

“Are you having an exceptionally bad day?”

“Hmm,” you thought, your eyes locked on the handsome man in front of you. “I think I’m having an exceptionally bad year, maybe years plural.”

He laughed quietly, a deep chuckle, a relatable response. He knew more than anyone how miserable life could be. But this week, and most specifically today, has been exhausting for him. And he saw you, he saw the perfect way to relieve some stress.

It didn’t take much longer until you were back at his place, making out on the overly expensive leather couch in the living room. His hands climbing up your body, nails digging into your flesh each time he grinded himself into you. Your hands were tangled in his hair, the smell of fresh strawberries and a hint of coconut from his shampoo.

By the time you were both completely naked, he already had his mouth exploring your clit, his tongue playing games with you. He bit down on your inner thighs, sucking and nibbling at your lips. He added two fingers into you slowly, curling them perfectly to hit the right spot every time.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, your body writhing with pleasure, his mouth and fingers still taking care of you. He quickly stopped at your words, sitting up and pulling his fingers out of you. He licked his hand, tasting you, a devilish grin on his face.

“You can cum when I tell you to cum. Turn over.” He commanded, grabbing your hips and flipping you over to him. He pushed on the center of your back and you arched, pushing your ass up for him. You could feel him position himself at your entrance, and slowly sliding himself in. You were surprised by his length, a slow whimper escaping your lips.

“Am I too big for you, baby? Can you handle it?” He sounded concerned, but an underlying tone of sarcasm and gloat in his voice.

“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, determined to take him. You felt the palm of his hand on your ass, rubbing the cheek slowly. It quickly lifted off, and came back down hard, a loud slap as his hand hit your bare cheek. You whines loudly, a mix of pain and pleasure overcoming you as he started to fuck you faster and deeper.

You felt him deep inside of you. He was the biggest you’d ever had, and with ever pump into you he seemed to climb deeper. The feeling of being under him, his length fully overcoming your body- you felt so submissive, you belonged to him. His hands gripped tightly into your hips, pulling you back into him as he pounded in and out.

“Can you handle this baby girl?” He yelled out, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back towards him. You yelped as he did that, the feeling of your hair being pulled sending shivers down your spine.

“I fucking love it,” you responded, feeling the need to praise the man who was in charge of your body right now.

“I want you to cum,” he instructed, his voice stern. You worried about what he’d do if you didn’t follow his instructions. You let yourself succumb to him, giving him full control of your pleasure. You started to feel a warmth spreading through you, preparing your body for a high of pleasure. After a few more seconds, you finally reached your peak, loudly announcing it to Spencer and whoever else could hear.

The sound of the pleasure he brought you, Spencer came quickly after that, pulling himself out of you at the last minute and cumming on your back. He pushed you down flat afterwards, and you laid there with him for a moment. He stared at you, covered in him, his property. In that moment, you belonged to him.

After you cleaned yourself off, you threw your clothes back on and got yourself together.

“I gotta go, I’m starting class tomorrow,” you explained, trying to sneak out without being awkward.

“I’ll see you again soon. Our story isn’t over,” he muttered, pointing towards the door and winking. You laughed initially, but realized how weird the comment actually was as you were walking out.

Luckily, your Uber only took a few minutes, and didn’t force you to talk. You scrolled mindlessly through instagram, thinking about classes, the thought of Spencer still stuck in your mind. As weird as it was to say, you truly didn’t think it would be the last time you saw it. You had a weird feeling deep inside that he was a very important person.

But, it didn’t matter, because you lived in a city with 700,000 people, and the chances of seeing him were slim to none. You didn’t even have a last name to find him on socials. You didn’t know his job, if he was even from here. In fact, you were quite surprised to realize you had just let a man you barely know fuck you like that. But damn, you did not regret it.

You crashed as soon as you got back to your apartment, setting your alarm for class tomorrow and passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. You had your usual string of nightmares, waking up every few hours, covered in sweat, your heart beating through your chest. You took a few sips of water and fell back asleep, only for the whole cycle to repeat a mere hour later. When your alarm finally woke you up, you were groggy and nauseous, another night of no sleep taking effect on you. You dragged yourself out of bed, silently hopped in the shower and let the hot water cleanse the night away from you.

You brewed a weak cup of coffee, poured it into a travel mug and headed out the door. You were terrified of today, a heavy pit sitting in your stomach. You kept your headphones in the entire commute to the school, drowning out the conversations of others around you. There was no possible way they could know you here, but you still always felt that the whispers were about you. You avoided as much eye contact and interaction as you could, walking through the campus.

Luckily the building where your class was wasn’t too far, and you got there relatively quickly. Your first class was called Mass Atrocity: Early Warning and Prevention, technically and elective course, but something you were extremely interested in. Your program was called Conflict Analysis and Resolution. You wanted to be badass, take down cults and serial killers, talking them off a ledge. You wanted to go back in time and prevent Waco. You knew you could do all of these things, you knew you could be the best, because your brother was a killer.

It was why you moved from your hometown. After he was found out, it was unbearable to be around people who knew you. You couldn’t escape the hate, the public humiliation. You hated him just as much as anyone, but that didn’t matter. People were convinced you two were killers together, especially since everyone knew what you wanted to do with your life and knew you to be a huge true crime junky.

You had to get away from there, escape your past identity. You could’ve stopped him, if you knew what was happening. But the truth was, you had no idea. And you hated that, you shamed yourself every day for not catching on to him. You, of all people, should have known. But now, you will spend the rest of your life stopping anyone you can. You had too, you couldn’t let them hurt their families the way your brother hurt yours.

So here you were, in a brand new city, a new last name, a new life. You had a chance to start over, be a new person. You could learn from some of the best professors, at one of the best schools in the country, only a few miles from DC. Homeland security, the FBI, CIA… everything you had ever wanted, right here. Sitting in this classroom, people filling in around you, you had your whole life ahead of you. Your future was unfolding itself right in front of you.

And then he walked in. A brown leather briefcase to match a blue suit, his hair sloppily pulled behind his ears, a tie loosely around his neck as if he got ready in a hurry this morning. He probably overslept, since he was out late at a bar and brought a girl home. You stared at him, your stomach flipping as he took his laptop out of his bag and began to set up for his lecture. You tried to get up and leave, turn around and pretend you never saw him, but you were trapped on either side, unable to escape. You slouched in your chair, hiding behind your laptop.

“Good morning everyone,” he said, his voice raspy and low, a clear sign of exhaustion. “I am Dr. Reid, although I would prefer Spencer. I teach a lot of the courses for Conflict Analysis, so you better get used to seeing a lot of me.” Spencer laughed lightly, his eyes scanning the crowd to see his new students. He looked approving, nodding over the people, and then his eyes caught you.

He stopped in his tracks, locked on your face, your eyes moving quickly in random directions to avoid his gaze. You finally caught him, and he furrowed his brows at you, a look of disappointment. He looked away quickly and scanned the rest of the crowd, still looking discontent as he tried to shake the confusion away and begin his lecture.

He didn’t look at you once through the entire class. You were smart and took your notes silently, not asking questions or making a sound. He was an extremely captivating person, his stories and the way he taught so encapsulating. He was brilliant, by far the smartest person you ever had the pleasure of meeting. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know the answer too, and you had so much you wanted to ask. You knew he could answer so many questions for you, specifically about your brother. But you vowed to never speak of him again, especially to a professor that you not only admire, but recklessly fucked just the night before.

Spencer wrapped up class, giving everyone a few final notes and instructions before saying his goodbyes. Before everyone was out of their seat, he interrupted the shuffle to say one final thing.

“Miss. Isaacs, could you speak to me for a moment regarding your registration?” He looked up at you for the first time in ninety minutes, and looked desperate. Your fake last name still rang odd in your ears, and it took you a moment to realize that he was asking for you. You nodded to him submissively, walking out the aisle and down the stairs to meet him at the podium.

“Do you mind if we go to my office?” He asked loudly, making sure the other students heard him speaking normally to you.

“Sure,” you whispered, following him out the door and down a hallway of offices. He stopped at his, fumbled with the keys, and opened the door to a very tidy office. You closed the door behind you and sat on one of the two chairs that were for visitors. He walked behind the desk and sat in his chair, a frustrated groan as he sat back.

“We need to talk about this.” He snapped, knowing that you knew exactly what he was talking about. “I can’t have slept with… a student.”

“Listen, I promise I won’t say a word, okay? I can transfer out of your class too, make it not an issue…”

“You have to take my classes to graduate. I’m…” he softened, leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath. “I’m not gonna ask you to do that. You’re extremely bright… I remember getting your application. You deserve a spot here… I just don’t want you to lose that because of this…” He rubbed his hand over his chin, trying not to raise his voice too loud.

“Thank you for saying that. You were brilliant out there today… I was completely enamored by you. Why did you leave the BAU to teach?” You asked abruptly, only realizing how inappropriate it was to ask that after it had already come out of your mouth.

“You know, that’s probably pretty personal, you don't have to answer that.” You covered your face awkwardly, wishing now you could just leave and not make this interaction any worse.

“No… it’s okay. There was just… so much pain all the time. And most people take that as ‘I couldn’t handle that pain anymore,’ but truthfully, I had become so numb to it, it scared me. I needed to get out so I could learn to feel again.” Spencer looked at you, his heart feeling a thousand times lighter after speaking his truth. “I’ve never told anyone that. Not quite sure why I told you.”

“I… I’m really sorry. Sometimes it is really easier to pretend things don’t affect you than deal with your true feelings. I can really relate to that,” you laughed, remembering all the pain you were currently trying to escape.

“You are very, very beautiful,” Spencer interjected, his eyes exploring you, his mouth slightly open in concentration as he focused on your almost perfect facial features.

“Thank you, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, feeling a creeping heat on your face as your cheeks began to blush.

“I’d appreciate it if you called me Spencer.” He moved his eyes from your body to your own eyes, staring right through you. You felt completely unlocked in that moment, like he could see right into your brain and read your thoughts and secrets like a book. You knew you could close yourself up, hide away from him, but a part of you didn’t want to. The exhaustion of holding a heavy secret around ate away at you, and it would be more than nice to have someone who could carry that weight with you.

But not him, he was your Professor, and this was your future. You broke your gaze with him and sat up straight, looking away. You scanned through pictures on his wall, the same group of people in multiple photos. He had many books on the wall, some in languages you didn’t even recognize. There were piles of magazines and papers on the floors, a layer of dust on the frame of the floor, and a fireplace that was littered with ash. The air held a musty stench, with a hint of air freshener trying desperately, and failing, to make the room smell good.

At first glance, this office seemed tidy, that of a person with their life together. But the details were where that theory fell apart. He was holding on to his exterior, pretending he was okay, but inside this man was a mess. He was exhausted, overworked, and due to the multiple empty scotch glasses lying around, heavily drinking.

“You alright?” Spencer asked, his voice breaking you out of your own thoughts.

“‘Sorry. Zoned out for a second…” you muttered, still looking around the room, trying to notice any other displacements. “I should probably get going.” You stood up quickly, grabbing your jacket and bag and heading for the door.

“You’re in another one of my classes tomorrow. I checked your schedule,” he hesitated, looking at his computer for confirmation. “Will I see you?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, right?” You raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for another comment, but he had none. You left after a few seconds, closing the door behind you as you left. You leaned up against the wall outside of the office, trying to ground yourself. You took a few deep breaths and checked the time, realizing you needed to get to your next class soon. You quickly walked to the stairs and headed towards your next class, your head still buzzing from Spencer that you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to comprehend anything. You took a seat in the next room, putting your head down in embarrassment as you waited for class to begin.

The next day you got to sleep in a bit more, but it didn’t make much of a difference. You still spent most of the night dealing with nightmares of your brother, but you had a new dream that scared you more than any of the others. You were sitting in one of Spencer’s classes, taking notes casually as he lectured. As he continued his powerpoint, the lights went dark and the slide changed to a picture of your brother. Everyone started pointing at you, calling you a killer, screaming profane things about your family. A light shined on Spencer, who was pointing and laughing with the rest of the crowd, walking towards you and pointing a gun to your head. Right before he pulled the trigger, he whispered “No one will ever love a killer.” His finger pressed down, igniting the gun, and…

Bam. You woke up. You felt sick, your heart racing and the contents of your stomach lurching around. You ran to the bathroom, vomiting as soon as you reached the toilet. You sat back against the cool tub, the cold feeling amazing against your hot flesh. You checked the time- 2:43 AM. You walked back to your bed and grabbed your phone, scrolling through instagram and twitter, trying to calm your mind. You had made brand new accounts with your new persona, paying bots to follow you so it looked legit. You didn’t want to post anything anyways, but you did love looking at baby animal pictures on the internet.

You were still feeling kind of out of it, and you reached onto your nightstand to grab your bowl. You smoked a little bit, trying to calm your body down enough to fall back asleep. Sometimes the marijuana and sleeping pills are the only things that calm you down. But you were feeling a little loopy tonight, and as you stared at your phone and tried to shove your anxiety deep down, you made a fatal mistake.

New email:

To: Dr. Spencer Reid, PhD

Subject: Empty

What do you do make the pain go away?

Sent from my iPhone.

You locked your phone and placed it down on the nightstand, curling up in your bed and falling asleep. You surprisingly slept through the rest of the night without issue, waking up from a deep sleep as your alarm went off a few hours later. You had effectively forgotten about the email, and didn’t have any reminder of it since Spencer had yet to respond. You casually made yourself breakfast, preparing mentally to see Spencer in class again this morning.

You left promptly after cleaning up, making sure you wouldn’t miss your bus to campus. You rode the commute with your headphones in, still ignoring the conversations of the strangers around you. You felt better today, at least knowing you’d be more prepared to see Spencer today than yesterday. All of that confidence immediately drained from your body as your phone vibrated, alerting you to a new text. Who the hell could be texting you? Almost no one knew this number.

Maybe: Spencer Reid

In regards to your email- you can never get rid of the pain. I wish I had a better answer.

You stared in awe at your screen, rereading the message a thousand times. At first you were confused, what email? But then you remembered, the fuzzy letters on the screen as you emailed him last night. Fuck. This wasn’t good. You opened the message, but didn’t respond, hoping he would see that if you read it and didn’t respond he would get the hint. There was no way you could go walk in class right now and go see him. But your bus stopped, right where you needed to get off, and although you desperately tried not to, your body got up and walked off the bus.

You continued to walk all the way to your classroom, sitting suspiciously close to the front. A part of you wanted him, the part of you that craved destruction and drama, the part of you that you saw your brother in. It scared you, because each and every day you felt that part of you come to the surface a little more.

Spencer walked in shyly, immediately scanning the crowd to find you. When your eyes locked, his face read a bit of relief, as if he was worried you wouldn’t come. He, too, wanted to see you. In all honesty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night you spent together. He didn’t look at you long, realizing he had to start class at some point. He went through a similar introduction as yesterday, changing up a few things to meet this course’s curriculum.

When he started teaching his content, you became just as lost in his words as you did yesterday. You listened intently to every word, felt the emotion as he did, even found yourself on the verge of tears as he wrapped up his lecture. You were stuck in awe, unable to move from your seat as he finished up class. He didn’t ask to speak to you this time, he just walked out the door without another glance in your direction.

You needed to speak to him, at least to explain the late night email. You left the room and headed in the direction to his office, hoping you could catch him before a mob of other students. You could imagine you weren’t the only one who was engulfed by him. He was hot, and there were plenty of other girls in your class who would have their eyes on him. You started wondering how many students he’d fucked before you and felt sick, a wave of green envy washing over you. It was weird, how hurt you’d been at the thought of him with someone else, considering you aren’t even together.

You made it to his office, and luckily there wasn’t anyone else around. You knocked lightly on the door and heard a muffled “Come in.” You opened the door to Spencer writing on some paper, his demeanor slightly surprised as you came through the door.

“Mind if I close this?” You asked, motioning to the door. He nodded and put down his pen, sitting back in his chair.

“What can I do for you?”

“The email… and the text…” You looked down at the ground, now feeling embarrassed in his presence.

“Sorry to have texted you out of the blue… I got your number from the student directory. All the, uh, staff emails are monitored, and I figured it would be best if we kept our conversation… private.” He bit his lip submissively, playing with his nails.

“Why does it need to be private? It was nothing bad…” you enticed, watching the small smile on his face as you spoke.

“I’m afraid that it might end up there.” He dragged his eyes up to yours, meeting your gaze, seemingly digging into your soul once again. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Tell me.” You waited for his response, trying yourself to now see through him, read what he was thinking.

“I don’t think I can stay away from you. Something is drawing me to you and I can’t pull away anymore.”

You stood up from your chair, walking slowly behind his desk and standing in front of him. He uncrossed his legs and looked up at you, your head tilted down as you looked at the man in front of you. You bent down on your knees between his legs, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. He kissed you slowly at first, surprise lingering in his lips, before embracing you, moving with much more aggression as he pulled you into him.

You broke away from the kiss, leaving him confused as you stood up and walked to the other side of the desk. You sat back in your chair and stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” He asked, breathlessly.

“Of course. 8PM work?”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Grounded: Level 4

Level 3 | Level 5

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526 @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs

[A P R I L 2 0 1 9]

The date was the 4th of April, 2019. It’s almost like Yeonjun knew, and that was exactly the reason why he had invited you to go watch TXT’s Inkigayo stage.

They were used to it, being nominated for top two but never winning, even after two years. It sucks to watch them wait nervously for the results to come out, the thought ‘it won’t be us’ floating about in their heads despite those stage smiles and those strong fronts.

You were finally pulled to your feet with your hands over your mouth when the results were finally broadcasted, and Jisung’s face gave it all away. Then, there was your ex-classmate, whose lips were hung agape, and Chan’s eyes that were filled, not with surprise but with the sheer amount of gratitude he had for the job he was finally doing after 7 years of training.

You were here for TXT, but Yeonjun knew you were rooting for Stray Kids.

A frown comes over your face when the desire to just break out into ugly sobs overwhelms your entire respiratory system. The camera pans, and all you see is Seungmin jumping with joy with his arms around Changbin and Minho.

The smile on his face was irreplaceable. The same way Earth’s moon could never be replaced. Not by Jupiter’s Moons, not by Saturn’s moons, nothing. It’s like the stars aligned based off their hard work and God finally said, you all deserve to reap the rewards of your efforts.

The tears tumble over your lower lids when you see Chan cry, then Jisung cannot regain his composure, with Seungmin and Changbin following suit. But your eyes cannot leave Minho.

He is happy.

He is proud.

He is standing where he was born to be.

Each scene plays out like life was running in split seconds, and you could absorb every moment of it, and yet before you know it, TXT comes back to their dressing room where you were waiting.

It is written all across Yeonjun’s face that he’s just satisfied with himself that he didn’t invite you for nothing. But something surprising surges through you, and it motivates you to throw your arms around Yeonjun in a bid to express your gratitude.

“Whoa!” Your weight shoves him back a few steps, and his arms come around your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shaking your head, you can hear his racing heart beat from the adrenaline of being on stage. The other members are packing up, so you aren’t really bothered when your tears start to stain his shirt. “Just... thank you, for inviting me today.”

“Aw, come on. It’s nothing. I just had a gut feeling they’d win today, thought you would like to witness that for yourself.”

The panic starts dripping into the warmth he’s providing you. It’s the same feeling you got when Minho had encouraged you to persist on for your performances.

You pull away, eyes tilting upwards to meet his.

It takes you exactly two seconds to realise that you’re more comfortable looking into his eyes than Minho’s, which is alarming.

“But anyway,” He releases you, and the lack of physical contact sucks some disappointment out from you. “It’s time to go, unless you want to wait for Stray Kids.”

“I...” Minho has his career now. I can’t make him choose, right? It’s time to let go. It’s time to move on. It’s time to forget about him. “No, it’s fine. I can text Hyunjin later.”

“What?” There’s a gentle frown on his forehead; you already know what’s running through his head. “What about Lee-”

“I can ask Hyunjin to forward the congratulations to the whole group, it’ll be fine.”

It’s not fine. Because I know how much Hyunjin is going to hate it.

Back in the comfort of your bed (though you would very much prefer the one you have at home), you scroll through your chats, searching for Hyunjin, and unironically noticing that your chat with Minho was almost non-existent anymore.

You stare at the screen for so long, it blacks out, now feeding you with your own dark reflection. The light from the corridor that’s the only thing illuminating your room was a speck white in your irises, even in the reflection.

Shutting your eyes, you let the content of the texts sink in - who was Hyunjin kidding? Who were you kidding?

Had there anything between Minho and I, it would’ve happened, right?

Now that he’s an idol, there’s nothing that could happen between the two of you.

What’s JYP going to do if one of his newly debuted idols get into-

No.

It’s not going to happen. Because Minho doesn’t have feelings for me the same way I had feelings for him.

I don’t need Minho anymore.

You put your phone on airplane mode and await the next day. Training, training, and more training.

It’s not like he ever needed me anyway, right?

[J U L Y 2 0 1 9]

What the fuck am I even looking at?

Just what the fu-

What the fucking-

“y/n,” Soobin wraps his fingers around his phone despite it still being in your hold. “Can I- Can I have my phone back- Please-”

Just who does he think he is? Prancing around in that stupid white top to some deep jazz music-

He finally snatches his phone away from you, and you’re left with the rigidity of your knuckles folded and crumpled like you were still holding it.

[Stray Kids : SKZ-PLAYER] Lee Know "DAWN(새벽)"

“What, cat got your tongue?” Beomgyu snickers, just missing a harsh swipe of your hand from you.

“Cut it out,” Yeonjun comes from behind and shoves his head forward playfully into a head lock, ruffling his hair. The sight of both Yeonjun and Minho stirs the lazy, but very difficult-to-put-to-sleep creature in your heart. Though one of them was just dancing in a space in a video on the screen, it feels like both are yearning for your attention.

Of course, you’d never admit it to anybody. Not even yourself.

“No, I’m just... Surprised.”

Taehyun’s in a game with Kai, but he still manages that sneaky look at you above his phone. “Surprised that he’s got individual content or surprised that you still get affected by what he does?”

Kai sucks his lips between his teeth, the attempt to hide his cheeky grin futile. Soobin watches you roll your eyes and shake your head to yourself, empathising with you.

“I’ve got an idea-”

“I don’t think I want to hear it, Gyu-” Aggressively shaking your head, you throw him the meanest glare you can conjure from your eyeballs.

“How about you go to JYP and surprise him? Congratulate him on his individual content?”

It piques the members’ interest. Now, even Yeonjun was giving you those eyes that said “hey, that’s not such a bad i--”

“No,” The leather sofa creaks a little when you push yourself off it, removing yourself from the dressing room where they were having rehearsals for KCON 2019.

“Aw, come on,” Yeonjun’s groan sounds like a puppy begging to go on a walk. Ironic that it’s coming from an older boy that much taller than you, that much more respectable than you. “It’ll be fun. They’re going for KCON in LA in August and I’ll be back by then. We can bring them a basket of fruit or something.”

“I might just go with ‘or something’-”

“Let me rephrase that,” Yeonjun points to you with that mischief in his eyes, coming between you and the door of the dressing room. “We can bring them a basket of fruit, you can have a chat with Lee Know, wish them good luck on their trip to LA and we’ll be on our way. All you gotta do is order that basket and by the time we come back from KCON New York, we’ll be good to go.”

You squint at Yeonjun, slightly suspicious of how hard he’s selling you the idea, until you remember that he’s got a heart of gold, the kind that’s making you feel confused and at an absolute loss of words.

“I’ll go with you,” He leans forward a little, hands on your shoulders and slightly shaking your frame. “I’ll ask Changbin for this favour, tell him we’ll be dropping by and keep it a surprise for Lee Know, how does that sound?”

No. I don’t want to be in the same room as you and Minho, God damn it.

Your lungs deflate and your shoulders slump, gaze avoiding his for a split second before they resign and turn back to him.

“Yes!” Yeonjun clenches his fist and holds them before his chest, his head thrown back in triumph. “You’ve all seen it!” Suddenly acting like he was in a play, he wraps an arm around you and gestures out into the air, not engaging any of his members who were all occupied with their own phones. “On the road to redeeming your friendship with Lee Know!”

Finally releasing you, he runs his hand through his hair and struts across the room. The words reach you, despite him walking away and they still somehow sink into your bones, but you can no longer contain the whirlpool of emotions swirling around like a tornado in your gut.

“Man, y’know how frustrating it is to watch that conversation between you and Lee Know go down? Time to set this right...”

And his voice fades out slowly, only because you can’t help but compare the likes of Minho and Yeonjun. Both boys have your heart, but one doesn’t need you, and the other’s trying to push you to the latter.

What a fucking mess.

After TXT leaves for the stage again, you are left to return to BigHit to continue training - you scored an A for dancing the last evaluation round, but a B for rapping and a C for vocals.

Not a great start.

The trainee manager comes to pick you up, updates you on the progress your fellow trainees have made, but none of it gets into your head.

Your phone’s just given you a reminder of your private Instagram’s memories, and all you can process are Minho’s face appearing over and over and over again back when you were both back-up dancers for BTS.

First, the only thing that’s running through your mind was how precious memories are. Grains of sand that fly away in the wind or get washed away by the ocean when it comes by the shore - always existing but never always around. His little bunny teeth that shone under the light of the back-up dancer’s dressing room, and his habit of sticking a napkin to his forehead so his facial oil wouldn’t glisten with the sweat. He’s taking his time to munch on his burrito while scrolling through his Instagram, completely unaware of your mindless zooming in on his face - it’s something his members like to do now too.

When you see a picture of yourself on his back on the last day of being BTS’ backup dancer though, that’s when the tears start to gradually covet the surface of your eyeballs. The pinches in your chest present themselves as deeper breaths when you try to control and maintain your composure. The trainees’ manager probably going to look at you weird when he sees you crying at your phone silently.

But how can you not, when all the memories with Minho seems so far away, they feel unreal? They feel like dreams you had that were forgotten over time; they feel like cotton candy when they melt in your mouth. Sweet, then nothing.

Maybe he’s just another chapter in your life that’s ended. He was just here to show you what you could do, and not stick around to watch you succeed at it.

Maybe this was it.

[A U G U S T 2 0 1 9]

“Is that the one and only Choi Yeonjun standing in JYP territory?!” Changbin’s loud voice echoes down the hallway before your sunbae can complete his request to the lady at the lobby of the building.

“Having fun training for KCON?” Yeonjun pulls back from the counter, previously leaning on it.

“They’re with me, thanks,” Changbin leans over one of the barricades and informs the lady, who presses a button and the barricades whir open. “Tell me about it. It’s been such a busy year. How have you been? You just came back from...”

“New York.”

“Right, right. Ours is in LA so,” Changbin trails off as he presses the lift button before turning to you. “You are... Hyunjin’s classmate, right?”

“The one and only,” You extend your palm to Changbin, who takes it with some slight surprise.

“Do your members know we’re here?” Yeonjun’s innocent question was short of being interrupted by the lift arriving.

“Nah, you wanted it to be a surprise right?” Changbin grins at the both of you through the reflection of the lift doors. The plastic wrap of the gift basket in your hands crinkle under the pressure of your grip.

“Man, isn’t this fun? You get to show up, unannounced, give everybody something and then make up with Lee Know!”

“Lee Know?” The name draws a frown upon Changbin’s face. He looks lost for some moments before you can imagine the lightbulb that brightens above his head. “Ah- You’re that trainee that got casted by BigHit who was in the back-up dancer’s dance crew for BTS.”

A weak smile helps you ease his guess.

“Right, right, right, right,” He nods, eyes slowly gravitating to the ground, then the words are so low, you don’t think you were supposed to hear it. “Ah... so you’re her.”

The lift doors open to a floor where you can hear the booming - though muffled - music from inside a studio, and you can hear the makings of a group of boys trapped in four walls. Changbin had barely gotten the door open when you hear Jisung yelling at someone for pinching Jeongin’s cheeks.

“Oh!” The maknae was the first to see you coming through the door behind Changbin, and before Yeonjun. “Noona-”

“Surprise!” Yeonjun yells from behind you, raising both his arms into the air. “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything important. Changbin said today was just a more chill training day for you guys.”

Chan is the first one to greet Yeonjun. “No worries, we were just having a break.”

“This is y/n, in case you didn’t already know her. We brought something for you,” Yeonjun nods to the gift basket you almost forgot you were holding.

“Oh! Yes, right. This- This is for you to share,” Awkwardly handing the leader the gift basket, Felix and Seungmin come by to help with the gift, thanking both you and Yeonjun at the same time.

“You didn’t have to,” Chan watches his younger members scramble to the pot of gold. “I’m surprised you even have time to come here.”

Yeonjun grins and rubs the back of his neck with some slight exasperation. “No, we had time. It’s fine. Also, do you happen to know where-”

“Yah! I leave for 10 minutes and you guys just sto-”

The entire’s room attention is drawn towards the second door on the far left of the studio, and Minho enters with some bottles of water with Hyunjin trailing behind him. There is a heavy, awkward silence in the air when everybody watches you lock eye contact with Minho, whose feet are slowly but surely inching forward to the crowd.

“Hyung!” Changbin is the first to break the tension, dashing over and throwing an arm around him. “y/n and Yeonjun just dropped by to hand us a gift basket to wish us luck on our LA KCON trip.”

“You,” Hyunjin leaves the bottles of water on the floor and heads for you, pulling you into a head lock and ruffling your hair. “When were you planning on visiting?” He whispers into your head, only loud enough for you to hear.

“I didn’t know I was expected, dipshit,” You struggle a little before you feel his grip around your neck loosen, standing straight up again to comb down your hair.

Hyunjin crosses his arms across his chest and glances at Changbin introducing Yeonjun to Minho whilst Chan was busy handling the younger members.

“Well, for one thing, I know nobody was expecting Yeonjun. I can’t say the same for you.”

Your hair slaps your face when you whip your head to look at Hyunjin, whose attention is now smugly stuck on Minho.

The man did not look happy for some reason.

#lee know scenarios #lee know #stray kids #skz #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #lee know fanfic #skz lee minho #stray kids minho

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sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years

Text

Negatives? - C. Hood

Hello my lovies! This is the anticipated second part of “Benefits?”!! Didn’t think we could get angstier but here we are!! I apologise in advance!

Masterlist will be updated soon! Hope you enjoy! More requests will be filled very soon!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

9 months. 9 months of longing, of pain, of loneliness. 9 months of being cooped up inside of his own head because he was too ignorant and rude to admit that he hadn’t buried his feelings for Y/N.

Drew made Y/N smile, but he knew that he could do better. He made her laugh, yet she laughed heartier when Calum would joke with her. Drew kissed her, yet Calum knew he would do better.

But he didn’t deserve her. Not in any way, shape or form. He had ruined his chances with her the minute he told her she wasn’t good enough to be with him.

Every interaction between the former friends was cold. Y/N looked as if she were fighting back tears and Calum often had to leave the room as his own fell. The band knew what happened between the two; they had been there to pick up the pieces for Calum as Y/N called their manager to quit and took off. She was determined to prove Calum wrong, and everybody knew it.

She kept Sierra up to date with her whereabouts, and job prospects. The two had grown closer as the older woman comforted Y/N. Sierra, in turn, kept Luke updated, and he the rest of the band - except Calum. Whenever he heard her name, he would get angry. It took him months to realise that his anger wasn’t directed towards Y/N, but himself. He let her get away. He was scared to open up. He got defensive, rude, nasty. He broke her heart and stomped on it as he left. All for what?

Drew knew nothing of the relationship between the two, just that they were once friends. He didn’t pry, nor did he try to figure out why the two didn’t talk, he simply made sure to comfort Y/N in anyway after a long day.

Things came to a head very quickly as they hit their 12th show of the tour. The entirety of the trip had been tense. There were very few photos of Calum captured, blatant ignorance as Calum tried to speak to Y/N and many outbursts of anger from the pair. Ashton and Michael had enough.

One fine, aesthetically pleasing Tuesday afternoon, the two broke the ambient air with their shouting. All because of the lack of Calum content on the band Instagram.

“If I see one more comment asking for more Calum, I might scream. There’s enough me content. We don’t need him,” Michael whined, scrolling through Instagram on his phone as Y/N sat next to him, back leaned against Drew, laptop on her lap.

“I think we might need to get some more pictures of the man up there, Y/N,” Luke said, his voice soft, eyes softer. He sent her a sympathetic smile, knowing exactly why there is an acute lack of the Maori man.

Calum scoffed from the other side of the room. They were all situated in Ashton’s hotel room, empty pizza boxes on the tables and floor in front of them. “Why would she do that?”

“Cal,” Luke warned, only to be interrupted by his other friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was good enough to take pictures of you,” Y/N spat, not looking up from her device. “Do it yourself. After all, any genius could do it, right?” The venom made everybody recoil, bar Calum.

He made an interested sound, walking closer to where she was sitting. “Tough words, careful. You might up and run away again, Y/N.” He was mad. She had left them all. She didn’t even give him the chance to talk about it when he wasn’t angry. She blocked his number as soon as she left. She cut him out of her life.

Y/N slammed her laptop shut, standing faster than anybody expected. Her and Calum were practically face-to-face at this point. Ashton was on his feet, surprised at the speed of escalation. “My time of taking photos of narcissistic, degrading assholes is over. Go find somebody else to toy with, Calum.”

“Still playing the victim, are we-“

“Enough!” Ashton had hit his point. For too long, the pair had been making the trip uncomfortable. It was putting a strain on the performance of everybody, and now causing issues with the fans. “Y/N sit down. Calum you sit over there and shut your damn mouth for a minute. Everybody else, get out.” It was rare for Ashton to lose his cool. He was the most composed of all of them, and often played the part of the most mature band member. It was a well known fact that when Ashton had enough, it was time for things to be sorted before shit hit the fan for good. As he ordered, everybody filed out except for the two in question. Y/N sat with a scowl on her face, arms folded across her chest as she chewed at the inside of her cheek. Calum sat on the bed across the room, facing the other direction for fear of lashing out again.

“Ashton what is going on-“

“Zip it, sugarface,” he raised a finger to Y/N silencing her with the gesture. “Enough is enough. This shit keeps going on and it is affecting all of us.” His brow was furrowed deep, jaw set and red hair mirroring his mood adequately. “Calum, you fucked up big time. Y/N you ran off and cut all contact. We have 7 hours until our show, and our sound check starts in 4 hours. You have two and a half to sort this shit out, or we will sort out other arrangements.”

“Ashton, this really isn’t necessary-“

“I don’t care. I’m leaving now and you’re stuck in here. I suggest sorting this out because we have all had enough of it.”

Y/N nodded, watching Calum closely across the room. He stayed silent, back still turned towards his friend and the woman he loved. This was his chance to explain everything, but it could also be his change to ruin things more than they already are. Given his track record, he wouldn’t be surprised if the tables shifted in favour of the latter.

The door closed behind Ashton, silence enveloping the room and making the air more heavy. Y/N felt the discomfort settle on top of the air, weighing it down on her skin until she felt as if her head were spinning.

Half an hour passed. They sat on either sides of the room still, both holding their words in out of spite.

“Why did you leave?” The words fell from his lips before he could think about them. It had been playing on his mind for so long. After a few days, when he had cooled down, he wanted to call her. He wanted to tell her that he was scared and angry and frustrated at himself. That he didn’t want somebody like her to be ruined by him and the life he lived.

“What?” She snipped, not looking up from her phone.

“Why did you leave?” He repeated.

A humorless laugh left her lips, much like the night he saw her last. “You’re joking, right? How could you expect me to stay after that?”

He finally turned to face her, she looked disinterested. Her attention was on her phone - probably messaging drew, he thought - and definitely not on the conversation they were meant to be having. Even after so long, she was still so beautiful in his eyes. Her temper was overwhelming, but she never showed anger towards another unless she had been wrong, and boy, did he do her wrong.

“I tried to apologise, Y/N. I called you, texted-“

“And I waited, Calum.” She was mad, yet calm. Her eyes were burning with fury, jaw clenched hard as she gritted words through teeth. “I waited two days. I got nothing from you, you ignored my calls, and I had enough.”

He huffed, a heavy breath leaving his nostrils, “So because I ignored you for a few days, you left? You left us without a photographer, without a friend, just to go screw around with the Chainsmokers?” He was angry. So was she. He was standing. She was sitting, phone clenched between white knuckles.

“I left,” she was on her feet now, almost chest-to-chest with him and radiating far more anger than he had ever seen, “because you not only degraded and embarrassed me, you criticized my career. I was terrified to open up to you. I knew you wouldn’t feel the same because I was hold never be good enough for you, but I tried. I tried to be open and all I got was made a mockery out of and told that I was practically worthless in my position working with the band.” She stepped closer to him, now at a point where they could stare at one another. Her phone had been thrown aside now, flung from her fingers as she stood. “I spent seven years with you all. I was there for you through everything. I fell in love with you, Calum. And you destroyed it within an hour.”

Her words were venomous, cutting deep along Calum’s heart and allowing the reality to finally, completely, sink in. He caused this. He made her leave because he treated her confession as a joke. He is the reason she is with Drew now, no longer his friend, or his lover. Or even his coworker. It is all his fault.

He slumped down onto the seat next to him, holding his head in his hands and trying to compose himself. He couldn’t even apologise, for he didn’t trust his voice.

“I gave you everything, Calum, and you threw it back in my face. How could I stick around?” She couldn’t look at him. Whether it was out of anger or sadness, or even fear of him making a fool of her again. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she turned around, staring out of the window of the hotel room.

They had a nice view, and she allowed it to distract her eyes from harboring tears.

She heard the rustling of fabric behind her, along with the creak of the chair beneath Calum. The soft padding on carpet told her that he was walking closer to her.

“I-“ he started, taking in a breath. She could hear the emotion. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate myself for what I did to you that day, Y/N.” He had tears streaming down his face, she could see so in the reflection in the window. “I don’t know why I said those things. I should never have told you that you weren’t good enough, or insulted the career that you built for yourself. I’ve been replaying that day over and over since it happened, Y/N. I knew that I loved you four years ago, and hearing you say it, after I tried my hardest to push down those feelings - I don’t know why but I got so defensive-“

“Shut your mouth.” She hissed, turning and allowing her anger to resurface. “For fuck sakes, Calum. Don’t try and play with my head again. You didn’t love me, not like that.”

“I loved you more than I have loved anybody else, Y/N.” He whispered, voice steady and his eyes not leaving hers. He was telling the truth, and they both knew it. “I fell in love with you so many years ago. I didn’t want to do anything to ruin this, but then you told me what I had been dying to hear for so long.” He sniffed, brushing tears away aggressively as he pressed his palms into his eyes. “I’m an idiot.”

“I can’t help but agree with you.” Y/N turned away from the window, the view no longer appealing as her own reflection became far too evident, along with Calum’s.

Another few minutes passed, both now situated in the seats they previously occupied. Y/N had her knees pulled up to her chest, picking at her fingernails. Calum was staring at his feet.

“I’ve found that if I close my eyes, I can sometimes pretend that Drew is you,” Y/N whispered. Her voice was full of pain. She was still processing the information that Calum had fed her. Still trying to figure out what to say to him. She figured the truth was better than anything. “I want - I wanted a future with you, Calum. I wanted to be able to wake up knowing that the man I loved, loved me back. That the man who knew me better than anybody else, was there with me. Hearing you say those things to me was the worst thing I could have experienced.”

“Y/N, I-“

“I hate to say it, but I still love you. I still wish that every time I fell asleep with Drew, it was you beside me. It’s easy to pretend.” Her own tears fell. “I can’t forgive you so easily. I can’t just forget everything that you said. I can’t forget how much I want to be with you.”

“Just one more chance, Y/N, please?” Calum was focused solely on her. He was ready and willing to be down on his knees, begging to have her in his life again. Not even for love. He would be fine to simply be able to watch a movie with her, joke with her. Love her like he did before. “I know I can’t make up for it right now, but I love you so much. I would spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, if you would let me. You deserve far better than me.”

For possibly the millionth time, Y/N was at a loss for words. Calum kept his vulnerability from many people, but Y/N could often read him like a book. Unfortunately, he could do the same for her.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, we have a few more months of the tour left. Whatever you decide, I’ll be fine with. You never want to see me again, I’ll stay away. You want to give me a second chance, and I will spend every day of our life together making up for all of the years that I kept my mouth shut and the horrible things I said to you and the pain I caused you for the past nine months.”

A sob tore from her throat, her eyes clenched as she let his words hit her soul.

Thankfully, the door clicked. It opened cautiously, a head of red hair poking through, Ashton eyeing the pair warily.

“I can’t do this right now, Cal,” Y/N blurted, taking the chance to rise to her feet and push past Ashton and the other guys. Drew watched after her with confusion, as did Luke and Michael.

Ashton glared at Calum, “You suck at apologizing.”

Tag list: @starshonerose @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @mantlereid @another-lonely-heart

#calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood x reader #calum hood angst #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #luke hemmings x reader #ashton irwin x reader #michael clifford x reader #angsty boi time #whoops sorry

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Note

Reader meets Agent Whiskey at a wedding for someone they both know.

Yee Haw, friends, I hope you enjoy :)

»»————-　♡　————-««

You had to work hard to keep from rolling your eyes so obviously. Internally would have to do for now. Tugging at the itchy material of the overly priced dress you were wearing, a small sigh escaped your lips. Oops.

It wasn't that you hated weddings but you just...hated weddings. To you, they were old fashioned trivial and over the top displays that would be pointless in a few months or years when the seemingly happy couple divorced. But here you were anyway. You would have skipped the event all together if the bride hadn't been your coworker. The rest of your office was there too, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Clearly they didn't share your sentiments.

At least you had the open bar to keep you company. Not knowing anyone else at the wedding didn't exactly provide for a fun time and no one seemed to be interested in mingling with anyone out of their own circle. Now it was all about figuring out when you could leave without leaving too early or overstaying your welcome.

Your eyes were glued to your phone as you nursed your jack and coke, wasting time and scrolling Instagram. At least everyone on there seemed to be having a good time. You were about to make a snarky comment to yourself when the chair across the otherwise empty table scraped, causing you to look up. A man wearing a silly Stetson but a dazzling smile looked back at you. You couldn't decide if you were more amused or turned on.

"Is this seat taken?" of course. Of course he'd have a soft southern lilt to his warm voice. You shook your head and gestured to the open table.

"All yours cowboy," your cheeks flushed almost immediately after the words came out of your mouth. The last part of that had been meant for yourself more than anything else. He let out a warm laugh as he plopped down into the seat and tipped his beer in your direction.

"Cowboy, huh?" the corners of his mouth pulled into a smile as you nodded slowly. He took the hat off and placed it on the table, "why's that?"

"The hat was a part of it," you admitting, hiding your face behind your drink. Was this man already making you feel like s shy school girl when he'd barely said more than a few words? Either he was good or you were getting desperate, "it's the whole vibe."

"Never thought of myself as much of a cowboy," he watched you closely and you felt naked under his gaze. How did he manage to make you feel so shy and small without everyone doing anything? He took a swig of his beer, "what's a pretty lady like yourself doing all alone? Shouldn't you be out there dancing?"

"This lady doesn't quite like weddings," you admitted with a raise of your eyebrows, "and I don't really know anyone else here...so I'm trying to figure out soon I can leave without bring rude."

"Your honesty is refreshing," he remarked as you struggled your shoulders. You could mentally slap yourself for trying to play coy. It was a wedding you didn't want to be at and here you were trying to pick up a stranger? That was a new low, even for you, "I'm not a big fan of weddings myself. A waste of time and money, but I do enjoy a nice beer and some decent company."

“Not sure that weak brand of piss water qualifies as nice beer,” you were definitely feeling a sudden surge of bravado through your bones, wanting to test the waters with this relative stranger. But hell, there was something about him that you were inexplicably drawn to, “nor do I believe I qualify as decent company.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” he agreed, tongue darting out and wetting his plush lips. You suddenly found yourself wondering how it would feel to kiss those them. You’d never made out with a man with only a mustache before and it left you curious, “bride or groom?”

Your eyes widened for a second before you realized what he meant. Was he getting closer and closer to you, or was that just your imagination? You pushed your hair out of your face, trying to maintain as much of a coy persona as you could muster up, “Bride. Although I wouldn’t necessarily call her a friend. We’re just coworkers, and everyone else from the office came, so I felt like I had to be here...keeping up appearances, you know?”

“Oh trust me, I know all too well,” he agreed and thoughtfully rubbed his chin, “I work with the groom. Not often, nor would I wager we’re very close. But when the boss man tells you to come, you don’t say no.”

“Cheers to that,” you held up your glass in a mock salute and downed the rest of it in one go. Your mysterious companion watched you in awe, amazed that you could hold your liquor so well, but followed suit before finishing off his beer. You checked your watch, and noticed that some time had passed. You could finally leave without being rude, “well, it appears I can make a socially acceptable exit, so I’m going to do exactly that.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked as you stood up, making you stop in your tracks and look back at him. Should you really be agreeing to go out without a strange man you had just met? Probably not. Were you going to do it anyway? Hell yeah.

“Only if it’s far away from here,” you said with a smile, “and you promise you’re not going to murder me.”

“Well, darlin’,” he stood up and reached for his hat as he started to follow you, “I can promise you I’m not a murderer, and I can assure you I’ll take somewhere much better than here. How would you like a private tour? Do you like whiskey?”

“Yes?” you raised an eyebrow, “this is all a euphemism for sex by the way? Because if you want to fuck, you can always just say that.”

He roared with laughter at your bluntness, throwing his head back. It had been a while since he had met someone like you; funny, honest, and straight to the point, “It actually wasn’t, but if that’s what you want, I have no qualms with that either.”

“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up as you realized how silly you must have sounded, “well, we’ll just ignore that happened for now. Let’s go.”

“Perfect,” part of you knew you shouldn’t be doing this, but something in your gut was pushing you to do it anyway. You could tell you could trust him. He offered his hand to you and you took it without hesitation, “I think you’re going to enjoy this.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in content, just when you realized...”by the way am I ever going to learn your name? Doesn’t a gentleman usually introduce himself probably to a lady?”

“Daniels,” he said with a small smirk, “Jack Daniels.”

You snorted with laughter, unable to contain the sounds from escaping your lips, “like the alcohol?! You’ve got to be kidding me! No way!”

“I am being completely honest, sugar,” he insisted, deciding he liked the sounds of your laughter; they were pretty, musical even, “a man doesn’t joke about such matters!”

“Well, Jack Daniels,” you stopped and turning to him, holding out your hand, “I’m Y/N L/N. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he insisted, taking your hand and giving it a firm shake, “but later the pleasure will be all yours.”

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #kingsman golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #HEE YAW DADDY

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smileyjaeminies · 4 years

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New Beginnings

Synopsis: Yet another new beginning for you and your family finds you completely unprepared. How will you cope with the new environment? What happens when unnecessary drama weasels into your quiet life?

Word Count: 6,5 k

Genre: high school au!, angst, fluff

Warnings: Fighting, some cursing

Member: Jisung, ft Felix, Yeji (Itzy) and Geonhak (Oneus)

A/N: This one is dedicated to the person who shared my dream even though we didn’t get to make it happen together. To the person that is only a text away to hear me scream about one thing or the other. I hope you enjoy this one love.

“Okay. You can do this” you told yourself.

You were sitting in your car in your brand new school's parking lot, your thoughts getting louder as the only sound heard was the AC. Even the simple task of parking your car seemed like a huge hurdle, as busy groups of teenagers hung out around their friends’ cars.

It was just your luck, your mother’s job making you move yet again after five years in sunny Miami. You couldn’t help but be heartbroken as you left your friends behind, packing up your room for the nth time and hitting the road. But, of course, it was just one year. Your senior year was before you and you couldn’t wait to be out of the house and in college sooner rather than later.

With one last breath, you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind, picking up your backpack from the passenger seat and walking out of your car. Your new school loomed over you, the building looking extremely intimidating as you stood in front of it. Your fist was tightly wrapped around a piece of paper filled with instructions that the school had provided you with.

So, the first item on your check list was finding your locker. The number was D-31, but you worried over how you’d manage to find it. The small map on your hands provided little help, so you would have to settle for your luck. Walking up the steps, you entered the building only to find it bustling with people. Loud voices were heard from every direction, students trying to find each other in the hallways and people walking back and forth.

You sighed, eyes desperately trying to find an indication as to where to look for your locker. You decided to go further inside and try your luck there. The hallways seemed to you like a puzzle, one you desperately wanted to solve. You passed by other students who paid you no mind, longing to meet with their friends after the long summer break.

You too, longed for your best friend, Yeji, to be there. You wished you could’ve taken her with you, for being without her left you feeling bare and lonely. You shook those thoughts away, your nails instinctively burying themselves to the flesh of your palm, half-moons of pain helping you regain your focus. It was no use thinking about things you couldn’t help.

At that moment, your eyes met with the indicator for hallway D. Your heart picked up at your chest, finding this small silver lining the highlight of your day. You quickly located your locker, D-31 and rushed to unpack your backpack, which was overflowing with textbooks. There would be time to decorate later, but for now, your mind was set in leaving your books and getting to English.

You were still stacking your books when you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jacket. With a glance at your phone’s screen, you were met with your brother’s face and you didn’t hesitate to pick up the call.

“Hey, ‘Hak,” you said.

“Well if it isn’t the new girl! How are you little one? How was moving? Sorry I couldn’t be there” your brother said, talking quickly.

“Geonhak I swear I hate being the new girl so much. It took me like ten minutes just to find my locker! Ugh, I can’t believe you’ve left me all alone” you whined into the phone.

“Sorry little one, but I’m trying to get an education here? You know so I can possibly work and make money one day?” he teased you.

“Yeah right, just say that you couldn’t get your hands off that new girl of yours and let’s get it over with. I know you have no time for your baby sister anyways” you teased him in return.

“Look, I’m going to be there next week, alright? Just hang in there for a little while.” he said, his tone turning serious.

“I know, ‘Hak. I’ll be just fine, don’t worry” you reassured him.

With a few last words, you ended the call, shoving your phone back in your jacket’s pocket and facing your locker once again. You had placed the map of the school somewhere in your binder in a hurry and now, you couldn’t find it. Typical.

Just then, you felt someone lean on the locker next to yours. You paid no mind, still focused on the task at hand, only sparing the boy a few glances through your peripheral vision.

“You’re the new girl, aren’t you?” he asked, a gummy smile lighting up his face.

You were stunned, looking at him wide eyed. How..?

“Is it that obvious?” You asked him.

“No! Not at all. I’m just- I’m Han Jisung, the class president? The secretary told me that this would be your locker” the boy, no, Jisung, told you.

Your mouth formed an ‘oh’ at his explanation and you nodded your head. You introduced yourself too, shaking his hand to top it all off. Jisung was still smiling, which caused a smile to spread on your face as well. You instantly felt better now that you at least knew someone’s name.

“Can I take a look at your timetable?” Jisung asked.

“Uhm, sure, but why?” you asked, already fumbling with the papers to find your timetable.

“You’ll see.” Jisung said, taking your timetable off of your hands.

His eyes made quick work of the small board, as he fumbled his pockets for something. He finally found what he was looking for, taking out a pen from his pocket. He unclasped the lid, holding it between his teeth as he circled certain classes on your schedule.

You stood in silence as you watched him, still not quite sure what was happening. Once he was done, he put the pen back into one of his pockets and turned to face you.

“Well we’re not sharing too many classes but at least it’s something. Let’s get you to English now, shall we?” Jisung asked.

Having connected the dots, you took your timetable back, shoving it inside your locker before installing your new lock. With a small nod at Jisung to indicate you’re ready, you were off.

You noticed that Jisung was good at making small talk and you were grateful to see that he was content to do all the talking as you simply nodded or provided small input to his train of thought. You finally arrived at your classroom and Jisung was quick to say goodbye.

“I’m going to run off to Chem. See you later Y/N!” Jisung said, waving goodbye at you.

You were left to enter the classroom by yourself, so you did just that. Only a few people were in the classroom already, which left you much room to pick your seat. You chose a seat in one of the middle rows and next to the window, settling down quickly as more and more people started pouring in the classroom.

A boy took the seat next to yours, pointing at his friend to take the seat in front of him. You spared glances at them, too shy to say hello. As they sat down, their chairs scratched the floor, making you wince at the sound. The boy next to you noticed your discomfort, offering you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry” he mouthed to you.

You nodded, giving him a shy smile back. He was about to introduce himself when the teacher walked in, causing the room to grow silent. When taking attendance, you learned that the boy’s name was Lee Felix, making a small note in your mind for his name. The teacher then used your first meeting to walk you through the syllabus for his class.

When the teacher announced you’ll have a big group project, you felt yourself sigh. You should’ve expected it, and yet you found yourself completely unprepared. Your leg bounced up and down as you got increasingly more nervous, your head already picturing your failure. That’s when you heard a whisper come from the boy next to you.

“Hey, Y/N, wanna group with us?” Felix asked.

You smiled at him, nodding your head and feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Felix beamed at you in return, returning his attention to the teacher. The rest of the lesson flew by, the loud ringing of the bell making you jump in your seat. You chuckled at yourself, hurrying to pick up your things and get to your next class.

“Y/N?” Felix asked from beside you.

“Yeah?” you answered.

“Can I have your number? Or maybe your insta? You know, for the project?” he asked.

“Sure” you replied, taking his phone off of his hands and adding yourself on his Instagram and his contacts.

“What’s your next class?” he asked as you both exited the classroom together.

“Algebra I think, I have to check though, I have the memory of a goldfish” you joked.

Felix chuckled, nodding his head in understanding.

“Ugh, Algebra it is. My least favourite subject” you whined.

“Same here. What am I supposed to do with all this stuff?” Felix said with a laugh. “Good thing we’ll be together there too! I’ll grab some books from my locker and I’ll see you there?”

You nodded at him, a smile lighting up your face. Maybe making friends wouldn’t be as hard as you thought after all.

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Jisung was sitting on top of the table at the cafeteria, Hyunjin and Seungmin sitting on either side of him, talking about one thing or the other. His eyes were trained up front, watching the doors that led to the cafeteria closely and waiting for you to walk in. He took lazy bites off of his sandwich despite not feeling too hungry at the moment. He knew very well that he would regret it later if he didn’t eat now.

As he waited, he was able to tune out his friends’ conversation and get lost inside his own thoughts. The whole day, he wasn’t able to get you off his mind… But why? Why was the shy new girl affecting him so much? It didn’t make sense. Jisung barely dated and had little to no interest in the girls in his year. So why now? Why you?

Finally, your familiar form walked in, head hanging low and eyes trained to your feet. Jisung leaped from his seat, dropping his half eaten sandwich and making his way towards you, lips turning upwards into a smile. His smile faltered as he saw you glance back, Felix falling into step with you.

He tried to shake his darkening thoughts away, despite feeling something in him growl. He should be happy you were able to find a friend, he could tell from the get go you were a shy person. He couldn’t expect you to talk exclusively to him, right?

He reached your side and rejoiced when you smiled widely as your eyes met.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greeted you.

“Hey, Jisung!” you smiled back at him.

“I was waiting for you! I wanted to ask you to sit with us for lunch, if you want.” he offered.

Your smile fell for a brief second, your eyes widening. You glanced around and Jisung could almost see the gears inside your head turning.

“I’m sorry, Jisung, but I already told Felix we’d be eating together. Maybe another time?” you offered.

Jisung’s eyes broke away from yours, at last meeting Felix’s who was watching a couple of steps away. The other boy was already looking at him, raising an eyebrow as if to pose a challenge. Jisung refused to give in. Instead, he smiled even wider and turned to you.

“Sure thing! You want me to walk you to your next class? I can meet you by your locker if you’d like” he said.

“That’d be lovely. I’ll see you in a bit then?” you asked.

“See you in a bit, Y/N” he said, walking back to his friends.

He stared at his half eaten sandwich in disgust, grabbing it off of the table and hurling it into a nearby trash bin. He plopped down on a chair, heavy sigh leaving his lips which made his friends turn their attention to him.

“What was that about?” Seungmin asked.

“Nothing. Just class president stuff. What were you saying?” Jisung asked.

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Months passed by in a flash and getting used to a new environment had never felt so easy to you. There were people you only talked to here and there, a couple of people you talked with exclusively in class. Felix on the other hand had been a huge help, his healing nature helping you wind down, his loud laugh and constant screaming making you laugh so much your stomach hurt and tears streamed down your face. Even without your project, you hang out together a lot and he had become a precious friend to you.

You had also grown much closer to Jisung, who had grown to be one of your closest friends. You were usually to be found hanging around either of their two boys, both struggling to help you fit in their inner circle. But you were content. You kept in contact with your old friends, while still hanging out with your new ones. Geonhak visited as often as he could, which always made you very happy.

Currently, you were laying on Jisung’s living room couch, having your weekly ‘How To Get Away With Murder’ hang out. However, your mind was currently preoccupied, so you paid little attention to the TV.

Your thoughts were swarmed as from this week onward, you could be expecting your college acceptance letters. Deciding your major and your school of choice wasn’t hard, your love for literature and English as a language only growing as you got older. On the other hand, both your parents were Yale alumni, so the love for the same university had passed down to you.

Your hands were fidgeting on your lap as your thoughts continued to race. You had sent out an application that you considered almost perfect. You had done your best to present yourself as someone the university would like, without lying or over exaggerating. But would it be enough?

As much as you tried not to think of the worst possible outcome, that’s exactly what your mind would play out. Different scenarios danced in front of you, from making grammar or spelling mistakes to not sending out the correct papers. You sighed heavily, your arm coming to support your head, which felt like it would explode.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jisung asked.

That’s when you noticed the show was paused on the TV screen and Jisung’s attention was directed at his phone.

“It’s complicated. Or actually, not that much. I’m just stressed” you confessed.

“You want me to get you home? It’s okay if you’re not feeling the show right now” Jisung said.

“No. I’ll try to focus on this, I need to get my mind off of things anyway.” you told him, firmly shaking your head.

“Good. You know I barely understand a thing if you don’t explain it to me” Jisung joked.

You took his words as a compliment, which made you smile. You turned your attention back to the show, you and Jisung making easy small talk about the character’s decisions, or lack thereof.

The end of the episode found you all but screaming at the television. The cliffhanger was big, your anger was burning at your insides. You were standing on the couch, hands directed at the TV as if you were ready to hit it.

Jisung laughed from the couch next to yours, familiar with your shenanigans. When the screen turned black, you plopped back onto the couch dramatically.

“I’m going to faint. Then, when I wake up, I’m going to find the writers of this damn show and I’m going to murder them. And I’m gonna get away with it too” you announced.

Jisung laughed at you, enjoying your dramatic nature.

“Want to go for a drive? It’ll help get your mind off of things” he offered.

“One condition” you said, looking at him nodding without moving from your position. “I want McDonald’s”

“I live to serve you, milady” he said, giving a small bow.

You giggled, getting up and pulling on your coat and shoes. The air outside was unforgiving, relentlessly blowing in every direction, messing with your hair and making you shiver. At least it’s not snowing, you thought.

Jisung’s car was cold when you filed into it. It roared to life and Jisung wasted no time to turn the heat up. Pulling out of the driveway, he drove further into the city. Turning up the radio to an unknown station, you were met with loud country music, making both of you burst into laughter. You fumbled a little bit until you found something to your liking, allowing the car to be filled with some generic pop song.

“You know” you spoke up, “It’s days like these I miss Miami the most”

Jisung hummed, thinking over your words before answering.

“Well, it’s justified, you know? It’s okay that you miss your friends. It’s okay that you’ve made new ones too. It’s like... Like how we’re going to uni soon. We’ll meet new people there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that we’ll forget our old friends. One doesn’t have to rule out the other” he finished.

You nodded, not able to find an answer. Your thoughts drifted, as Jisung stayed focused on the road, the car moving through the city’s streets. The silence was comfortable, as there was not much to say, but you didn’t mind. On the contrary, you enjoyed being alone with your thoughts, but at the same time without being completely on your own.

Jisung pulled up on the McDonald’s drive thru, expertly placing your order along with his. As he pulled up to pay and wait for your order to be ready, you smacked his arm.

“Hey! What was that for?” he asked, rubbing the place where you hit him.

“You didn’t ask what I wanted? What if I wanted a Big Mac or something?” you scolded him.

“Please! As if you’d eat anything but the nuggets. Tons of the nuggets, sure. But not a burger. It just isn’t you.” he said.

If you weren’t as busy hiding your blush, you may have noticed Jisung biting on the inside of his cheek.

“Oh fuck you” you finally managed, to which Jisung only replied with a smile.

“Don’t you dare!” you said, hitting his arm once again.

Jisung let out a yelp, his hand coming up to protect his face.

“If you keep hitting me, I’ll throw you out of the car. And I’ll eat your nuggets” he warned.

“Not the nuggets!” you cried, both of you chuckling.

Just then, you pulled up on the next window, a lady handing you a brown bag filled with your food. You politely thanked her before Jisung drove off. You lunged for the bag, finding your nuggets and happily taking a bite off of one.

“Look at you, you’re beaming! Food is literally the way to your heart, isn’t it?” he asked.

“I will neither confirm nor deny this statement. Now pull up somewhere or I’m going to eat your fries too” you threatened him.

“Yes ma’am!” Jisung complied with a laugh.

You made some small talk as you ate, your conversation flowing naturally from one topic to the other. You felt happy, so glad Jisung was able to quiet down your racing thoughts and help you wind down.

Your ringtone made you pause mid-sentence, as you sent Jisung an apologetic look. He shrugged you off, ushering you to pick up. Lixie shone brightly on your phone screen, a meme picture of Felix dominating it. You answered the call, only to be met by constant screaming on the other end of the line.

“Y/N!!!!!!!! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! MY MOM AGREED TO GET ME A KITTY! Y/N I’M GETTING A KITTY DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF THIS MOMENT?” Felix screamed.

“Oh my God, Felix, calm down for a second my ear is bleeding!! On the other hand, A KITTY? WHEN ARE YOU GETTING IT? WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT TAKING CARE OF A CAT YOU IDIOT, YOU CAN BARELY TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF?!” you screamed in return.

“Y/N, I’m actually so scared, I want to be a good cat father, what am I going to do?” he asked.

“Look, I have some studying to do tomorrow, then I’m coming at yours so I can train you, okay?” you asked.

“Yes, Y/N, I knew you’d pull through! Thank you so much! I love you!” Felix said.

“I love you too. But I have to go now, I’ll text you later” you said, ending the call.

When you turned back to Jisung, you found him avoiding your eyes.

“That was Felix. He’s getting a kitty” you spoke up.

“So I heard. I think the whole block did too” Jisung said.

“Yeah, sorry about that” you tried to laugh it off, but Jisung didn’t follow.

“Jisung are you okay?” you asked, placing your hand on top of his on the center console.

He didn’t flinch, but you could tell the weight of your hand over his didn’t offer the comfort you wished it would. A few moments passed by, the silence in the car becoming overbearing.

“I think I should be getting home” you said, recoiling to the passenger’s seat.

“Okay” Jisung replied, driving off.

The drive was quiet, music standing in place of your familiar banter. You couldn’t put your finger on what made Jisung so sensitive. Felix would call or text sometimes while you were together, making Jisung completely shut down. You really couldn’t understand his behaviour, and everytime you tried to talk to him about it, he would brush it off.

The more you thought about his behaviour, anger, mixed with sadness and helplessness boiled inside of you. What were you supposed to do? Be alone until Jisung graced you with his presence? Stop hanging out with Felix? Or just take his rude behaviour, accept anything just because it was Jisung?

No. It wouldn’t stand.

“You know, if there’s something wrong, I wish you could tell me. I can’t just keep guessing why you’re acting this way or another.” you said, your eyes fixed on the buildings passing by your side.

“What? Where is this coming from?” Jisung asked.

“Please don’t pretend you don’t understand. Everytime I so much as mention Felix’s name you completely shut down. And then when I try to talk about it, you do the exact same thing. I just don’t get it” you said.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Jisung replied.

“That’s how you want to be? Fine! Fine. Pull over.” you told him sternly.

“Y/N, don’t-” he began, but you cut him off.

“Jisung pull the car over or I will jump out of it right this second” you warned.

He muttered something under his breath, pulling the car over in front of an unfamiliar apartment building. You pulled your coat closer over your chest, your hand over the door handle.

“If you decide you want to talk about this, you know where to find me. Until then, leave me alone” you said, getting out of his car and slamming the door.

You started walking and before you could turn the corner, you heard angry honking coming from behind you. You jumped, surprised at the piercing sound then huffed in annoyance, continuing your way back home.

Once you were safely inside, you joined your parents in the living room. The small talk with your parents helped you take your mind off of things. It was nice to pretend that things were normal for a while. So you sat in front of the TV next to your dad, who was quietly grabbing a bite to eat. You scrolled through your phone as you usually did and you asked for their permission to go to Felix’s tomorrow. It was easy for them to agree as you reassured them you’d finish your homework first.

You excused yourself after a while, your hands already tapping away at your phone. One ring, then two. On the third ring, the only person you missed more than Geonhak answered.

“If it isn’t the brightest smile in this world” your best friend said in place of a hello.

“Oh, Yeji. My smile isn’t bright right now.” you confessed.

“What? Who hurt you? Do I need to fight someone?” she asked.

You wasted no time filling her in, trying to skip no details. You went back and forth in your story a lot, adding some of your blabberings that caused you to stray off of your topic. Yeji was familiar with this and extremely patient with you, asking questions and listening intently. She hummed here and there, but for the most part allowed you to talk until you had bared everything out in the open, unloaded the heavy burden of your heart.

“I just… I don’t know. I really don’t know what to do. And I wish you were here…” you trailed off.

“Hey. Don’t go all sappy on me. We’re having a conversation over here. Just… Let me think” she said.

The phone line grew silent as Yeji thought over your words. You waited patiently, fiddling with the tassels of your blacket to give your hands something to do.

“Honestly I don’t understand him. From what you’ve told me, Jisung sounds like a fairly reasonable person. It may be the hormones. You know, no one can be perfect” Yeji tried to joke.

You groaned into the phone, letting Yeji laugh it off on her own. You buried your face in one of your throw pillows, hoping the sweet scent would help you calm down.

“No, okay, I get it, bad joke, I’m sorry” Yeji said and you hummed into the phone in place of an answer. “Maybe you should just give him some space. He probably doesn’t know exactly what to say to you. I’m sure he’ll come around sooner or later. And if he doesn’t, well… That’s tough luck. But also, you wouldn’t really want a person like that next to you anyways, right?” she finished.

“What would I do without you Yeji?” you asked.

“Ah, that’s a very good question. But I’m glad we don’t have to answer it” she said.

“Me as well. I’m sorry we got caught up with me again. How are you doing?” you asked.

After catching up with Yeji, your heart felt lighter. She had a magnificent way of calming you down, saying exactly the words you wanted to hear. She was the best friend you ever had, and the constant aching in your heart (a result of being without her) served as a reminder of that.

That night, you settled in under your covers, but sleep remained out of your reach. This would usually be the time when you’d text Jisung, a well known night owl himself and talk into the night until one of you fell asleep first.

But tonight that wouldn’t be the case. So you snuggled further into your bed, played some relaxing music and wished for sleep to come quickly

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Days passed by slowly and everytime you returned home you looked through the mail hoping to find the one letter you so badly wanted. You had already received your acceptance letters from NYU and Columbia, which only left out… The one your heart longed for the most.

It had been almost two weeks since your falling out with Jisung. Since then, you hadn’t talked at all, barely even glanced at each other. It was a hard task, for in the classes you shared you were sitting side by side and also because you wanted nothing more than to talk to him.

But, Yeji was right. He needed space and maybe, you did too. So you ignored each other’s presence as much as possible, with Jisung running out of classrooms as soon as the bell rang and you keeping your head low. If Felix had noticed the change, he did not mention anything, which made you wonder if he was in on something you didn’t know.

You were sitting in one of the schools’ benches, furiously writing down numbers for some Algebra homework you had put off for too long. The music flowing in your ears was there to ground you, but your thoughts still ran in circles inside your head. Then, the music cut off and was replaced by the blaring of your ringtone. Being snapped out of your reverie abruptly, you answered the phone groggily.

“Y/N, sweetie, I hate to do this so much but… It’s here” your mom said on the other end.

“What? Mom, I don’t understand.” you told her.

“Sweetie, your Yale letter. It’s here. But I have to go, I have to go to work and I can’t open it with you” she told you.

At the mention of the letter, your heart skipped a beat, only for it to begin a crazy pounding inside your chest the next second. You felt lightheaded, close to fainting, your knees buckling under you. Everything was getting too real.

“Mom, it’s okay. I’ll just FaceTime Geonhak or something” you managed.

Indeed the very thought of your brother brought you peace. You could do this… Right?

You couldn’t do this. You stared at the letter on the kitchen counter and it seemed to you that it was staring back at you. You had gotten home a few minutes ago, the envelope waiting patiently for you on top of the kitchen counter. Something was stopping you from opening it, so you would just sit there, waiting for the letter to open on its own. You couldn’t pinpoint what you felt in those moments, excitement and dread, your hands itching to get on the piece of paper and yet fearing to even come close to it.

You unlocked your phone, your finger hovering over the contact you so badly wanted there for this moment. So for once in your life, you decided to be brave. Time was up.

He picked up on the fifth ring.

“Yeah?” he said, and you could feel your stomach tighten in anticipation.

“Jisung, it’s Y/N” you said.

“Yes, I know that. You need something?” he asked.

You should’ve expected that he would be curt with you, but still, hearing him like this hurt you. You tried to brush it off, instead telling him why you needed him.

“My Yale letter is here. I… I can’t open it, Jisung. My parents are at work and I don’t want to open it with someone over video call.” you told him.

“Why are you calling me? Call Felix or whoever” he snapped back at you.

“Felix already left, they have a hockey match… I’ll just wait for my parents to get home. I’m sorry I called.” you said, stumbling over your words.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Jisung said, hanging up the phone.

A thank you threatened to slip by your lips, but you held it back. You threw your phone back on the counter, rubbing your face with your hands. Ten minutes… Yes, you could wait ten minutes.

You couldn’t wait. What began as feeling lightheaded with your mother’s call, now had become a full blown headache, pounding at your head mercilessly. You waited for Jisung in front of the door, hand softly massaging your temple to relieve some pressure.

When his car pulled up on your street, your lips curled up into a smile. You took him in, finally able to look at him after weeks. He was wearing all black, from the beanie on his head to his clothes. Without a word, he took you into his arms and you knew, it was that easy.

“I’m here” he whispered in your ear and you had to sigh.

You felt at ease, breathing evenly once again. The pounding on your head was still ongoing, but you would have to live with it for a little while longer. Without a word, you led Jisung inside and he followed you easily through the familiar house.

You held the letter in your hands, almost showing it off to Jisung.

“It feels heavy. Weighty. They wouldn’t turn me down with so much paper, would they?” you asked.

“I… I have something to tell you.” Jisung murmured.

You were taken aback, but you nodded, urging him to go on. What had happened? Then, Jisung took out a letter much like yours from the pocket of his jacket. You felt yourself gasp, immediately reprimanding yourself for your reaction. You met his eyes, noticing the familiar twinkle behind them. And you knew.

“You got in” you whispered under your breath.

Jisung nodded, laying the envelope next to yours. Your vision got blurry, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You inhaled deeply, trying to push them back and keep your voice stable.

“I’m so happy for you, Jisung. I know how much you wanted this.” you said, holding down a sob.

“Now, it’s your turn. We have to do this together, alright?” he asked.

You nodded, taking another deep breath to steady yourself. Jisung gave you an encouraging look as you took the envelope in your hands and tore it open.

“That felt nice.” you confessed and Jisung chuckled lightly.

The first piece of paper had the university’s seal on it, along with your information. You skimmed along the lines to find the word you wanted so badly. Accepted. And there it was, in big bold letters. You had been accepted into Yale.

The tears found their way down your cheeks as a weak sob raked through your body. You stumbled over your own feet, but Jisung was there to catch you. Jisung was always there to catch you.

You clung to him, whispering the same words over and over into his shoulder. ‘I got in, I’m in, I got in’ became a mantra, and Jisung holding you tightly managed to bring you back to reality. You took a few moments to stop the happy tears, before pulling back enough to look at him.

Just then, you realized your close proximity, Jisung’s body burning under your touch. Your noses were touching and if you as much as breathed, your lips would be on his. And how lovely would that be…

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, for Jisung seemed to read your mind, closing the distance between you and placing his lips on yours. Your breath caught at your throat, your eyes widening, your brain taking a few moments to realize what was happening. Your body became water, flowing in Jisung’s hands as you kissed back and everything fit into place.

Until it didn’t.

Jisung recoiled from you, turning his back on you and facing the window. You almost fell backwards, luckily grabbing the counter behind you for support. You shot him an incredulous look which he didn’t see. When you saw him wiping his lips in disgust, something broke inside you.

“What the fuck?” you asked, hating the fact that your voice broke.

“I shouldn’t have come here. This was a mistake. Congratulations.” he said, making for the door.

“No. No, you don’t get to do this” you said, moving quickly and pulling Jisung back.

You were standing awfully close again, your chest pressed against his, only this time your eyes were burning. His icy stare met your burning one, and you don’t understand a thing. Nothing makes sense, when all you want is to kiss him again and he is running away from you.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked him, the anger clear in your voice.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Lover boy is out of town so we are making for second best? I won’t play this game with you, Y/N” he said.

“Lover boy? What are you talking about?” you asked.

“Are you serious? I’m talking about your boyfriend, Felix! Or do you think that I’m stupid? I have eyes, Y/N, I see your wallpaper change to him, I see your smile when you talk about him, you drop everything the second he calls, you run to him whenever he needs you” Jisung went on, but you didn’t listen.

After you got over the initial shock, laughter bubbled from deep inside you. If you were being honest, the whole situation was so outright ridiculous, there were not many things you could do but laugh. Jisung on the other hand, wasn’t in on the joke and so your laughter only served to rile him up even more.

“Is this funny to you?” Jisung asked.

“Oh, Jisung you… You can be so dense sometimes.” you said, moving closer to him.

If you had more confidence, maybe you’d grab his hand and drag him closer, or drag him by the neck so your lips could meet again. But you weren’t that person. No, all you could do was walk as close as he would let you and meet his stare head on.

“It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m not dating Felix, or anyone at all. Since the first day I met you, you… You got me. I think I’m in love with you, Han Jisung” you confessed, your heart beating in your throat.

Baring your heart out in the open should’ve been scary and unthinkable to you. And yet as you stood in your kitchen, Jisung across from you, nothing had ever felt so right. Your heart was light inside your chest and even if your thoughts were running, they ran for someone who was worth it.

“So you and Felix never…” he said, his voice trailing off.

You couldn’t help but giggle, firmly shaking your head.

“Not at all. He is very dear to me and I love him as a friend. But that’s it” you reassured him.

“I’m such an idiot” he said, more of a statement than a question.

You hummed at his words, inching closer to him. He pulled at your hand, making you fall in a not very elegant way on top of his chest. He chuckled and you did too, the feeling of his chest rising and falling under your fingertips comforting to you.

“Hey” he whispered.

Your noses were touching.

“Hi” you whispered back.

Your lips almost brushed each other.

“Can I-?” he didn’t get to finish his question, your mouths already colliding.

The kiss was slow and intimate, your mouths moving against each other. He tasted of mint toothpaste and longing, a winter night’s air and the first breath after a dive. Your hand cupped the back of Jisung’s neck and he shuddered under your touch, making you break the kiss to giggle.

“You almost drove me crazy and you’re still laughing.” he scolded you.

This time, he captured your bottom lip only to bite hard on it in retaliation. You called out in surprise, hitting his chest lightly.

“That hurt, asshole” you said, hitting him a second time for good measure.

“It did? Let me kiss it better then”

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