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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

Text

When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Art.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, little bit of Angst

Warnings: jealousy and insecurity

Requested: nope

Summary: In which Steve is into art but Y/N is not.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Haven't got anything to say specifically so,,, enjoy the fic! Hope you like it!

[Y/H - Your Hobby]

---

"Oh my God, this is awesome!"

"It is, isn't it?" Y/N smiled softly, staring at the pure joy on Steve Rogers' face as he stared at the beautiful painting in front of him. "So much! Ah, realistic paintings, they're always so amazing. Do you like them?" he grinned, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Sure, they look cool," Y/N shrugged, not really understanding the painting. It was aesthetically pleasing, though.

Well, anything to make her boyfriend happy. They were at an art gallery in Brooklyn, which Steve loved to visit. Y/N, knowing how much Steve liked art, and her, always accompanied him. Steve and Y/N had been dating for nearly a year now. "Yeah! I know you aren't into art, but thanks for coming."

Y/N scoffed, burrowing closer to him. "You're my boyfriend, bro, anything for you." She giggled when he gave her a playful shove, immediately pulling her back to him. "Don't call me that, I'm your boyfriend," he chided jokingly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sure you are." Steve laughed, ruffling her hair.

"We've been together for a year." They stood in front of an abstract painting. Just as Y/N was about to retort, they heard someone clearing their throat. Turning around, they saw a woman standing there, smiling at them. "Hello, I'm Tiffany! You're Steve Rogers, if I'm correct?" she addressed the man.

"I am, and this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N," Steve answered with a polite smile, unconsciously pulling Y/N closer to him. He didn't like the way Tiffany was looking at him. "This is my painting, do you like it?" Tiffany asked. There was something off about her... "Ah, sure sure, it looks really good." Even though he didn't trust Tiffany, he couldn't lie about the art.

"Thank you! What do you think about it, Y/N?" Tiffany turned her smile unto Y/N. The woman blinked and glanced at the art. "It's nice," she shrugged truthfully. "Ooh, I'm so glad! The meaning is truly wonderful, I worked hard on it," Tiffany clapped her hands. "Yeah… the meaning…" Y/N cleared her throat, looking away from her.

"If you wanna see more of my art, you're very welcome to check it out! This one is on sale, actually, if you would consider," Tiffany offered, looking directly at Steve. "Oh no, not here to buy anything, just to admire," Steve chuckled, waving his arm in dismissal. "Okay, okay, but if you want to ever talk about art, you can give me a call. Toodles!"

With that, Tiffany handed Steve a business card, turned around and left. Steve stared at the card he involuntarily accepted, scrunching his nose. "Oh God, that—" He cursed, throwing the card into a nearby trash can. "What about her? I think she was lovely," Y/N lied, giving him a quick smile.

"She was clearly condescending! Ugh!" Steve rolled his eyes, "Anyway, we don't wanna ruin our day. Let's continue with the art!" Y/N's mind wandered as she casually latched on Steve's arm, ignoring the words he was saying to her. She couldn't help but think about Tiffany and how it was clear that she was hitting on her boyfriend.

To be honest, Tiffany was kind of better than her. Steve and Y/N had no common interests, why was he even interested in her? Why wasn't he into Tiffany? Steve's main attraction was art, he loved it more than anything else in the world and yet he continued to be with a woman who had absolutely no curiosity in said thing.

Why?!

Y/N softly groaned.

Oh no, this was gonna be a problem.

Which she was gonna fix.

---

Impressionism is a 19th-century art movement characterized by relatively small, thin, yet visible brush strokes, open composition, emphasis on accurate depiction of light in its changing qualities (often accentuating the effects of the passage of time), ordinary subject matter, inclusion of movement as a crucial...

Y/N blinked and yawned, throwing her phone on the bed. "Ugh! Why is art so fucking boring and frustrating?!" she moaned, rubbing a hand over her face. She sat up all of a sudden, squinting at the clock in the corner of the room. It was 4:56 am. "Or maybe I'm just tired…" She lay back down on the bed and kept her phone away.

The thing is, ever since that one visit to the art gallery, Y/N's little confusion about Tiffany and Steve had turned into the biggest insecurity of hers. Since that time, she had been limiting her meetings with Steve, as was she learning more about the thing that made Steve most happy: Art.

Steve hadn't questioned her as of yet, which was good. He didn't suspect a thing. She knew he didn't like Tiffany, given how he had called her unsavory things and also immediately threw her business card in the trash. Y/N just couldn't help feeling like she didn't belong with Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Steve, meanwhile, also awake, was sitting on the balcony in his room, thinking about his girlfriend. Why had she been acting so weird for the past one month? Absolutely refused to be around him for more than half-an-hour, sounded tired every time they talked and knew surprisingly a lot about paintings.

How? And why? He sighed and got up, stumbling into his bedroom. A little talk tomorrow won't hurt, right? Running a hand through his hair, he plopped down on the bed, lay down and finally decided to sleep.

---

"Y/N? Sweetie, can I talk to you?" Y/N glanced at Steve. "Yeah, what happened?" she smiled when he sat next to her, putting an arm around her. "Is everything okay with you? Lately you've been… kind of strange," he whispered. "I'm fine! Just having trouble sleeping, that's it," Y/N muttered, resting her head on his shoulder.

They were sitting in his room at the Stark Tower. "No, it's something else. I've known you for a year, my love, tell me. I'm here for you," he assured her, brushing her hair with his fingers. "Fine! It's Tiffany! She got into my head," Y/N groaned, burying her face in his neck. "Her?! That— sorry," Steve blushed when Y/N gave him a pointed look.

"Look, I get it, man. You're Captain America, you're America's hottest man or something and women literally flock to you all the time but she— she likes art. Just like you do. You both know so much about it, it's insane! I'm only thinking, why am I with you? I've never been interested in art, and Tiffany actually seems like a fun person to be around."

"So you got a little insecure?" Steve teased, pressing his lips to her temple. "I haven't slept in a month! Why do you think I know so much about art all of a sudden?" Y/N huffed, looking away from him. He froze. She gave up her sleep just to make sure she was… worthy of his affections?

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying. I slept at 6 am yesterday. Today, technically speaking. I had to be at my job at 8, and I got half an hour of sleep all because I was researching impressionist art— Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/N deadpanned. Steve continued to stare at her, a look of disbelief and incredulity on his face.

"I want to tell you something very important." He pulled away and turned to sit face-to-face with her. "What's that?" she mumbled. "I love you. I love you so much, Y/N, you're the most gorgeous woman I've seen, we are happy together and I like that. We have different interests, of course I know that, but it doesn't matter."

"Why doesn't it?"

"Because when we're together, next to each other, I have the best time of my life. Everything is blissful when you're with me and it's… it is euphoric. You don't need to learn about art just to hang out with me, I like rambling to you! Unlike artists, who would most definitely interrupt me at all times, you listen. And I like that. I also love listening to you talk about Y/H."

Y/N teared up at his words. "Thank you," she managed to blurt out, sniffling when Steve laughed and pulled her into his arms. "Off the bat, I knew what that bratty woman wanted. But I didn't want it because I already have it better," he chuckled, rubbing her back in soothing motions.

"I love you too," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, smiling softly when she felt him pressing a kiss to the top of her head. All of a sudden, there were knocks on the door. "Come in," Steve called out and Sam poked his head into the room. "Steve, we have a meeting in 15 minutes, just a heads up. Hi Y/N!"

"Hi Sam!" Y/N greeted enthusiastically. "I see you're doing better now," Steve smiled, wiping her tears away when Sam left. "I needed to talk and we did, I'm… I'm not insecure anymore," Y/N admitted, playing with the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing. "I'm glad we could sort this out. I gotta go now, talk to you later?"

"I'm not going anywhere. Bye!"

She smiled when he leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss. "I love you!" he called out when he left the room. "I love you— close the door, you turd!" She laughed loudly when he turned around with a raised eyebrow. "I love you too, Steve," she grinned cheekily, bursting into boisterous laughter when he closed the door behind him.

Outside, Steve only smiled, happy that his girlfriend was doing much better.

See, a little conversation didn't hurt.

---

A/N: Hope you liked it! Leave a like if you did, thanks for reading!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steven grant rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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mileyjassie · 3 years

Text

ασφαλής "safe".

Art made by @jasperiine

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Drama.

Word count: 3.4k

Synopsis: You're a artist who fell in love with a statue that came back to life, you're both deep in love, but, since his curiosity and lack of trust make you feel betrayed you leave him behind and now he's searching for you to give him another chance while having to learn how to live in the modern world.

Author's note: I wrote this thinking about the history of eros and psyche, I hope you enjoy reading it.

My lovely one, learn to love, my Psyche.

You saw him for the first time when the golden, warm light of the sunset rested on top of his white, smooth shape, made of marble, finished with genuine perfection.

Few saw how magnificent he was, very few looked into his empty eyes and his well-sculpted lips and saw the true beauty that arose from his presence.

"Bullshit" You were told, some without malice, just disinterested, clearly you did not understand such ignorance, but said nothing because you knew that only you had the gift of seeing life in his curves. In this way, thus, you also avoided the jealousy that you felt trembling and going out of your ears when false words of admiration left the mouths of those who only longed for their own artistic contemplation.

You came back for him, sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by a friend or more, those seeing him for the first time as well as other masterpieces...or those who knew him well, these keeping company since they knew that your path to him was inevitable.

You particularly admired it when you were alone, not many around cared about the time you spent, seeing you sitting on the floor below his figure, doodling or painting in your sketchbook.

It was a habit, a hobby, a kind of meditation, which brought you calm.

"You love him." One of your friends smiled, dictating a fact, not a joke. They knew it, saw it in your eyes and thought it was amusing, the artistic love and appreciation you had. "You keeps drawing this statue, you always comes to see him. This is a little strange." Smiled once more, receiving shakes and confirmations from the rest.

"Maybe I'm in love" You lifted a shoulder, hiding your furtive gaze to show your back and look again at the marble sculpture that lay just ahead.

His fingers touched his stomach differently, his nails were medium and square, you had drawn them several times, from all angles.

"Why don't you ask him out?" The question slid past you, you laughed quietly with it, as if it tickled you. "Why don't you ask him to marry you?"

"I already asked." You turned around again, to see them and shrug. "But he never answered me. I think I will wait forever." Laughter was spreading across the area as you sat next to them with crossed legs. "I think I was rejected..."

"He's making a fool of you."

"You think?" You turned your face, looking the marble marks.

"Do it again."

You narrowed your eyes, hiding your good mood.

"Should I?"

"Ask him again, persist, give him a kiss..."

You were surprised by the excitement that grew out of silence. They all wanted to indulge in entertainment, they wanted a scene to excite them.

You looked at the greek statue that persisted in its elaborate pose, you always wondered if he was seeing something, if he was warning something or if he was sacrificing himself for others. He looked like a petrified hero.

You put your hand on your face, pretending to blush at the indications and flirting suggestions that were being thrown at you.

You left them behind, walking like a lost maiden in the vast hall that you were at, even though there were no obstacles as far the statue in the column on the other side was, you pretended to be naive, meeting him by mistake.

"Oh" You exclaimed, hearing the giggles behind you. "Are you, my love? The one who calls for me?"

When you noticed that only your friends were the viewers, you were bold to go up on the marked block of marble, climbing your fingers through the fabric sculpted by a miraculous genius that covered part of his trunk and legs, listening to some cheeky "hm's".

"I'm here" you touched his cheek, looking at his lips. "I heard you cry out for help. I came to rescue you, my sweet angel."

Your friends hugged each other restlessly, hissing at each other for the romance scene they saw you star in. You tried not to lose focus, not to leave the character you created to satisfy your childish follies.

You closed your eyes just a little, seeing the simple details of his face while allowing your lips to touch the cold, rough surface of the marble, but you closed your eyes for a quick instant, really feeling like an real actress, like an true artist and lover of beauty.

When you heard gasps you didn't care so much, yet you were confused enough, the moment your eyes opened, you saw him inhale deeply and loudly, his eyelids trembling in half-blinkings, his arms resting around you, without strength, totally fragile.

His dark eyes remained stuck in yours, tired in your arms.

His parted lips made the sound you had fantasized about for so long.

"T...Thanks for saving me..."

For an instant the hall was lost, it was empty, silent, private. That was when you realized that you were indifferent about the situation, already astonished when it came to the boy.

His appearance filled you with tenderness, and in the same way filled you with sadness. It was like this?...Was like this how Hades felt when he first saw Persephone?

You took off your coat, covering the boy with blond, tousled hair, already kneeling and hiding himself in the fabric that covered his lower body.

"Are you coming with me, all right?" You murmured gently, waiting for his approval, receiving a innocent look, a little scared, but still seemed to trust what you weree saying. He nodded, accepting your help to stand and get off the block.

The reaction of the friends sitting on the floor on the other side was already expected, and you didn't blame them for that, you could be like that, but for some reason you chose not to be.

You didn't say goodbye to the others, you didn't think to do that at any time. You only had eyes for him.

You prepared him a hot bath, after that you gave him something to eat and offered him your own bed to rest, and you didn't ask for anything in return for that, on the opposite, you gave him the space he needed, nothing you asked for or waited for.

The next day, very early in the morning, a cold but well-lit morning, you woke up when he approached slowly, looking at your face silently and carefully.

"Are not you curious?... Don't you want to ask me anything?" He said calmly, however, curious.

"If that is your will, then I believe I am going to. If it is not, then I will not do it." You sat down, watching him for a while, wondering if he could hear your heart beat so hard. "You look comfortable, that's enough for me."

You stood up, standing beside him, running your fingertips along his side, just touching the woolen fabric of the long sweater you gave him to use.

"If you want to tell me something, just look for me." You whispered, walking away.

"My name is Soonyoung. They called me Hoshi."

You smiled to yourself, very satisfactorily.

"Hoshi... This name I know." You turned around, he did the same.

"For all this time I waited for someone to set me free. I felt alone, often empty... however" He came over, holding his own fingers "You have made me less lonely many days lately, I hoped you could save me... and you did. "

You felt your face flush, but you remained neutral, not wanting to waste his words.

"I just have to thank you." He said at last, making your shoulders relax with his sweetness.

You approached slowly, doing the same with the hand you brought to the side of his face.

"You are my greatest inspiration. I can only thank you for simply having this indescribable beauty that I have been drowning with for so long."

His lips parted in surprise, eyebrows trembled and the top of his ears burned in a vicious pink for your pupils.

Soonyoung had no more expressive reactions after that, so you left him again, not wanting to scare him with the infinite admiration that you had kept inside your head for so long.

"You're gonna have all the care you need. You are safe, Hoshi, calm your spirit."

"I hope..."

You turned around to find his body standing a little far, still trapped in his own imaginary space.

"I hope the gods make you the happiest woman in the world."

You touched his hand, taking him with you to your favorite room, leaving your shyness to satisfy his wishes.

"I know I told you many times not to go out, but I know you need hobbies and here I am providing you with my tools."

Soonyoung observed the room, he seemed impressed with the amount of materials, also happy to have something to do.

You showed him your canvases and your paints, your brushes and pencils, you took him to your table and made him sit down, leaving your hands lightly on his broad shoulders.

"I give you all my sketchbooks, I give you all my secrets, so I hope you find the peace that I find in you."

"Are you going to let me see everything? Are you sure about that?" He asked indecisively, he seemed to imagine all kinds of things that you could have drawn of him. He was right.

You moved your hands up his neck, sinking your fingers into his light, soft hair.

"I don't want to hide what is rightfully yours..."

You lowered yourself to the side of his face, resting your hands on his arms, with a low sigh his face turned towards yours, allowing you two to touch your lips.

You held his jaw, his hands finding your forearms to make you sit on his lap.

You held his face in your hands, noticing him looking for more contact by embracing your waist with one arm and with the other hand holding the back of your thigh.

You parted from his mouth with a foolish smile, receiving a soft smile from the boy in return.

"Do you love me that much? Do you swear to really love me?" He asked hopefully, blushing when you pecked his lips again.

"I'm doing all of this for you."

You stroked his hair, getting up to fetch some new books and putting them in order on the table.

"I have some books keeped, but I noticed that you have read most of them quickly because you were so vague and bored" You looked down, but he didn't seem to notice, he had curious eyes and hands on the books. "Many of them are to study, they are boring if I have to say. So I bought new ones, I hope you like it, I don't think you will be bored with these."

"I am so gratefull." He stood up, hugging you tight, you returned the gesture, completely overwhelmed.

"I am very happy, and extremely grateful, but still curious..."

You looked for his eyes, not understanding what still disturbed him.

"Tell me, my angel."

His hands lightly squeezed your arms, stroking for a moment.

"There is a room, always locked. You always gave me the freedom to explore your house, I didn't want to seem invasive anyway, that's why I never asked..."

You looked away.

"Don't go in there or ask me about it again, okay?" You smiled at the boy, he didn't seem to understand why you were avoiding it.

"Why can't I know what you're hiding there? What are you afraid of me finding out?"

You walked away from Soonyoung, stopping by the doorframe.

"I am giving you everything I have, I am giving you all my love and I asked you for nothing in return, so I warn you, my angel, if you let yourself be led by your curiosity, in the end you will be betraying my trust..."

You saw him press his lips and hide his regretful look, but he said nothing to you, so you left him in the room alone.

It was late at night when you woke up slowly in the void of dawn, trying to understand what disturbed you, if those sounds were of your fear or really true.

You got up, even leaving your room barefoot, wishing you didn't find him awake as you feared every night.

He had stolen you key, opened the room door that you had warned him to stay away, and hidden in the dark. He acted behind your back.

You found him with a tightness in your chest, disappointment was the only word that could describe the pure melancholy that was born in your heart, since you had nothing to hide but your good intentions.

The newspapers were on the table in the small office filled with photos of his sculpture. His eyes lit up on the news, messages, controversies on the computer screen. My friends being part of his miracle in interviews and publications, none of them stabbed or handed me over.

All the chaos that his disappearance brought to your life, all the situations where you had to repress yourself to protect him, emails filling your patience every day, all this you hid from him so that he wouldn't suffer from this turbulent new life. You did it to love you freely, you did it to love him freely.

Soonyoung looked at you confused, maybe sorry to find that nothing bad you hid. It was the opposite, you were protecting him.

"You were thinking about me, my love... I'm sorry."

"You betrayed me, Soonyoung, you betrayed my feelings, the trust I had in you." You watched him from a distance, in a way that you never would have, he noticed, and got hurt.

You walked away when he came to you in search of reconciliation, of affection, but you could not treat him with the same adoration that washed over him at all times.

Even if he killed you inside, you could not deny the sadness that possessed you thoughts, you left him behind, abandoned him, because you could not bear the truth that the love he felt for you weighed much less than the love you felt for him.

"Forgive me" he murmured with red eyes, you don't know if he was afraid to see you go.

You covered yourself with a thick coat, trying to escape his cold hands.

"Don't go, my darling, don't leave me!"

"I cannot stay, because if I look into your eyes I will not hold on, I will not be able to not forgive you, and this is not what my heart is asking so loudly at this moment." You said, sad to let go of his fingers, but so eager to go away. "Don't wait for me, I'm running away." You said at last, leaving your home behind.

"How long do you intend to run away?" One of my friends asked me, in which she gave me shelter, a little upset "Didn't say you loved him?"

You curled up on the upholstery, looking out the window at the blue sky.

"I'm so sad that you could never imagine my pain. Did I make a mistake? Shouldn't I have adored him so much?" You turned to the girl who was adjusting her belongings over the dressing table, not much distracted by your regrets.

"You cry so much but you do not accept to hear about the boy, you do not have the courage to know what our friends are doing with him. You, my friend, so fearless and passionate in the past, now do not seem more than a coward."

You closed your eyes with force and embarrassment, her criticisms hit you like sharp arrows that burned in harsh truths.

"Well, tell me, what did you do to him?" You got up, sitting in front of her on the bed, plagued by dark idealizations. "What are you getting him through?"

"Your friends care about you, but they were touched by the boy, who exudes empathy and sincerity" She approached, indifferent about your feelings, straightening your clothes and hair as if it were a simple morning conversation. "They challenged him to face the world, called him a parasite, ordered him to get a career, a job."

You gasped, astonished by the news, the boy who they said feeling empathy with barely knew how to use a computer and was being led to take unknown paths.

"How scared must my love be?"

"Don't whine having ignored his existence until now." She said impatiently, not letting go of your locks. "You need to stop talking and learn to listen."

"So tell me quickly, hurry up!"

"As I said before, the boy exudes sympathy and soon there was a charismatic reaction in our friends. Noting that he spoke weird, the first decided to teach him to speak correctly, taught him new words and practiced for days, holding on and becoming his closest friend."

You smiled, being interrupted before you mentioned any dazzle.

"The second soon realized that different clothes he didn't have, and being our richest friend was more than happy to buy new clothes for the boy who was so humble and listener. Gave him a new haircut, a set for every type of occasion and perfumes, and I have to confess "She sighed, rolling her eyes, taking her hands out of your hair. "I found it capriciously exaggerated, however, despite being disappointed I feel not surprised."

Noticing how obedient you remained and seeing the anxiety spilling out of your eyes, it didn't take long to proceed.

"Our third friend found out that he knew nothing about the new ways, that walking on the street could not do it alone and that the loud noises made him afraid. That good-hearted friend you have, gave part of the days to take care of the feelings and fears of your beloved, until walking on the sidewalks between crowds and witt cars disturbing your ears were no longer a problem."

You felt your shoulders relax, in incredible inner peace, until you looked up again.

"And you? What did you do?"

She looked at you from the corner, wickedness overflowing through her feline eyes.

"He got the job, now he works as a guide at the city museum, the same museum that you kissed him and left us behind." She paced the room with a sly smile, going over her belongings on the dressing table, going to the high desk by the window. "How can a dependent man like him be by your side if he falls apart when he sees you go? So weak, so sensitive. If he thinks he will have you at all times, I want him to know that it won't be like that, sometime you will have to leave him behind to come to us, the same I say inversely. "

She let the perversity spill and disappear, returning to being the controlled and wise girl from before.

"Did you ever see us flounce when you left us for the boy?" She looked at me, satisfied with my small negative head wave "On the contrary, there was no interference, we are more than that, we are free from blind attachments."

She sat down again, combing your hair back.

"My responsibility was to make him find you, that's what I was asked to do and I agreed, but to be honest, I didn't do anything." She shrugged, self-sufficient. "I said that the only way he would have to find you would have to be on his own, I didn't teach how to handle electronics, I didn't give tips, I didn't give a single picture of you."

You squeezed your eyebrows ready to complain, ready to defend the boy, but regretting the moment you saw her narrow eyes waiting for the cries she was listening these days.

You bowed your head, not knowing what to say or ask.

"Are you proud of him?"

You lifted your head, agreeing with a slight smile.

"I am."

"He worked hard for you, I'm not surprised, I really like him too."

You looked at her quickly with the comment she made, finding her face turned.

"He has earned our trust. But it is not our approval that he needs at the moment." She stood up, going to the window, being surprised, giving birth to an amused smile. "What are you waiting for to find him? Isn't your pain already healed?"

You raised your eyebrows, asking with euphoria rising in your chest. "He is outside?"

She nodded, you jumped out of bed quickly, out into the hall and down the stairs. Was that the reason you were getting ready all this time? You smiled at the thought.

When you were on the sidewalk of the house, you stopped for a moment to find him, but you saw no familiar silhouette, there were some civilians and gentlemen nearby selling fruits but you didn't find the boy you were looking for.

A soft and insecure hand touched your shoulder, you turned with the gesture, in a trance to find his dark hair, but his same sharp eyes staring at you with hope.

You got dizzy with the new details, with the accessories, with the denim jacket, with the sneakers, with the earrings, it didn't look like him, but it was him.

You looked down, seeing his hands holding one of your sketchbooks, a drawing of your face on it, an old self-portrait of an impatient sketch you did once.

He smiled widely, even letting out a laugh.

"You came back to me, my angel!" He said cheerfully, his voice filling the longing you felt, giving you chills for using the nickname you gave him and, of course, with the new pronunciation.

You gladly received his tight embrace, not wanting to loosen your grip on his body, after all you never wanted to stop loving him, not even for a single moment.

"You are the one who found me, love. You finally found me."

"Forgive me for what I did, I will never betray you again, soon you will see that it is more than possible for us to live happily, so come back with me..." he said muffled against your hair, hiding his face in your neck.

You stroked his hair, bringing his face close to yours, brushing lips and watching his small eyes narrow in anticipation for the first kiss so far.

"I know that, dear, and I forgive you. Because I love you."

𝒇𝒊𝒏.

56 notes · View notes

softlighter · 3 years

Note

Blake feels haggard, and world-weary, but a passing painter asks her to pose for her a few times and the resulting painting is a masterpiece. Blake doesn't understand how Yang sees her as anything but weather-beaten, while Yang doesn't understand Blake's inability to see her own beauty or self-worth.

I hope you know how much I adored this prompt, nonny friend! I hope it was worth the wait. Also posted as “sketch of hope” on Ao3!

~~~

Blake takes a drink of her tea. It’s over-seeped and bitter, something no amount of milk or honey will fix, but it’s tea, and it’s warm going down. Still, she squeezes more honey into the chipped ceramic mug and stirs it in. Her eyes feel heavy, but she flips open her book once more and begins reading where she left off. It’s something she’s read before but it’s as worn and familiar as her sweater; just what she needs right now.

Another sip of tea, her nose crinkling as she’s hit with the sour and sweet syrupy taste, but she still downs half the cup. She would normally go to her favorite cafe, a ten minute’s walk away from her apartment, but it’s too much effort to exert right now. Everything is too much effort right now, hell, she’s just happy she managed to leave the apartment today. It’s something, it’s an improvement, even if this tea is awful and she wants to crawl back to her bed.

She puts her book down and sighs, rubbing her forehead. It’s a beautiful day. The sky is a crisp blue with fluffy clouds like cotton candy, and the spring wind is sweet with florals. Blake is at an outdoor cafe, and it’s a beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day, and she should be grateful.

But she’s not, and she’s tired.

Blake leans back in her chair, picking apart her croissant with her fingers and popping a bite in her mouth. At least their croissants are decent. She takes another bite, directly from the pastry this time, and casually brushes the crumbs off her sweater. Blake scans her surroundings and the few other occupied tables at the cafe. It’s still relatively cold, and not many are apparently wanting to brave the sharp nip of the rickety metal table and chairs.

But there’s a couple speaking in hushed tones and giggling every few minutes, even if their noses and cheeks are pink. There’s a group of boys across the patio playing some kind of game with dice and they shout loudly every once in a while, even with the couple sending them dirty looks. There’s another woman across from her, also sitting alone, but she is scribbling in a notebook.

She drifts back to her tea and croissant, but the back of her neck prickles, and her ears instinctively stiffen. Blake looks up once more, and she meets eyes of bright lilac. Her cheeks feel hot, but she doesn’t look away, despite herself. The other woman is blushing too, though, and she smiles sheepishly at Blake. “Guess I should’ve known better,” the woman says.

Blake’s brow furrows. “Pardon?” she says, more on instinct than anything else.

The woman’s face turns a deeper red, and she gestures toward her notebook. “I know I should’ve asked permission, but-”

“Were you drawing me?”

The woman nods sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s a bad habit. One of my old art teachers always encouraged it, said we got more natural looking sketches that way, but people don’t exactly like it. But, well, I couldn’t help myself. Hard habit to break, and you’re a perfect study.”

“I am?” Blake snorts. “Hardly.”

The woman frowns, her pink mouth curling downward. “Well, I say you are.” The woman hesitates before scooting closer to Blake’s chair. “You’re not upset?”

Blake shrugs. She doesn’t feel much beyond the heat in her cheeks and curling in her stomach, doesn’t feel much at all these days. Her eyes drop down to the notebook before looking back up at the woman. “I feel like there’s a compliment in there. Somewhere.”

The woman smiles, and she looks over her shoulder before getting up and taking the seat across from Blake at her table. Blake raises her brows, but she says nothing as the woman slides her notebook to her. “What do you think?” she asks.

Blake studies the dark lines, the way they curve and dance across the page in sketches and hatches. It’s obviously just a sketch, but the word just demeans the art before her, ignores the simplistic beauty of something in progres. The woman is talented, obviously so, but Blake still frowns. “That’s not what I look like,” she says finally, even though it, obviously, her.

“Maybe it’s not how you see you, but it’s how I see you,” the woman says.

Blake scoffs, but her eyes linger over the page before she forces herself to slide the notebook back. “You don’t know me.”

“I’m a good sense of character.” The woman closes the notebook and smiles at her, tucking a long blonde strand of her back behind her ear and underneath a purple hat the same color as her eyes, but even the electric lilac of the wool dulls in comparison to her eyes. “Can I ask a favor?”

“You can ask whatever you want, doesn’t mean I have to answer.”

“Would you consider posing for me?”

Blake blinks. “What?”

The woman nods brightly. “Come to my studio, with proper lighting and stuff like that.”

“Again, what?” Her brows knit together, and she’s not sure if she’s amused or concerned. “I don’t know you.” And you’re not going to want to know me.

The woman shrugs. “Are you a serial killer?”

“No, but-”

“We can stay here if you’re more comfortable with that,” the woman presses. “You’re just- well, you’re exactly who I’ve been looking for.” Blake’s stomach turns, but the woman quickly adds, “I mean, just, wow, that sounds so creepy, but seriously. You’re a delight to draw.” The woman laughs. “That’s not much better, is it?”

Despite herself, she smiles. “No,” she agrees. “It’s not.” She considers and tilts her head, her fingers tapping against the cool metal of the table. “If you want to, I’ll be here for a bit longer. So do whatever you like.”

The woman’s face breaks out into a bright grin. “Thanks!” She laughs, scratching the back of her neck. “I’m Yang, by the way.”

“Blake.” Yang extends her hand, and Blake nearly gasps when she sees Yang’s arm. Yang’s smile fades. Blake stumbles for her words, her tongue feeling thick and clumsy. “That’s beautiful,” Blake says finally, taking her hand in her own. The metal is cold in her hands, but smooth. “I take it you designed it?”

That warm smile returns. “Yeah, I did,” Yang admits, and she rolls her sleeve up to her elbow. The prosthetic is sleek, but there’s a thousand images all painted onto the metal. Sunflowers, roses, and lilacs all creep up and over her fingers to her palms, bright and abundant, before the blooms swirl into gleaming golden scales and, finally, crackling flames. She’s never seen anything like it, and she can’t help but stare. “Painting with my left hand is hell, though.”

“Well, you did an amazing job,” Blake says, forcing herself to wrench her eyes away from the breathing art to meet Yang’s eyes.

“I mean, if I’m gonna be wearing it all the time, it better be, you know?” Yang shrugs, but she opens the notebook once more. Her pencil appears from nowhere, and Yang starts sketching, her eyes on the page. She looks up at Blake and smiles. “You can keep reading, if you’d like.”

And she would’ve, but instead she says, “I thought you wanted me to pose for you.” Yang’s jaw slackens, and Blake smiles to herself. “Tell me what to do, artiste.”

Yang laughs. “Pick something comfortable for you,” Yang says. “This can be my proper warm up.”

Blake straightens her shoulders and leans her elbow onto the table before resting her chin on her hand. She’s staring at Yang in this position, she realizes, but Yang just smiles again and resumes sketching. Her pencil flies across the paper, sure and steady but light, and Yang looks up at her, but it’s different. Her eyes are appraising now, still warm, but studying her. Studying her like she’s a piece of art, like she’s something beautiful.

“I thought you said this was your warm up,” Blake says a few minutes later. “This looks pretty intense to me.”

Yang shrugs, still looking down at her paper. “You speak to me,” Yang says simply. Blake’s stomach clenches. “Maybe I’ve found my muse in you.”

“I’ve never believed in muses.”

The corner of Yang’s lip quirks up. She’s so quick to smile. “Well, I do,” Yang says. Yang checks her watch, frowns, and looks up at her, and her eyes are soft. “I gotta go, but if you’re ever around Sixth Street, I work on thirty-eighth. You’ll know it when you see it. Feel free to drop by to see the finished product.”

“Alright.” She doesn’t address the offer, just lets it sit between them as Yang packs up. “Have a nice day, Yang.”

But Yang rips out the first drawing and hands it to her with that bright smile. “Just so you remember how I see you, Blake.” Yang winks, and then she’s gone. Blake swallows hard, her eyes unexpectedly hot, and she stares at the sketch.

When she gets home, she tapes it to the wall next to her bed before burrowing back under the covers and letting oblivion take her.

~~~

Blake tells herself that the bakery on Sixth is why she’s there, that she’s had a craving for their challah bread and the bakery’s bread closer to her apartment isn’t what she’s craving. She tells herself that, but she still takes the long way to Sixth and walks around so she’s on the higher end of stress addresses. The apartments here are nice and made of bricks, colorful and inviting. Perfect for Yang.

But thirty-eight takes the cake. There’s a mural on the bricks, and it’s a collision of paint and color and wonder. Even in the overcast day, Blake’s eyes can’t get enough of it. She instinctively knows Yang did it, and a smile tugs at her lips before she can stop it.

She bites her lip, but she can’t stop herself from walking up the stairs to the door. Blake knocks, and she hears a voice within call, “One sec!” Her heart skips a beat, and her hands bunch into fists. This was a bad idea. This was a very, very bad idea.

But the door opens, and Yang is there. She’s in a tank top and paint-speckled jeans and her long blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail. Blake weakly waves, and Yang just grins at her. “I’m happy you’re here,” Yang says, holding the door open. “Wanna come in?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she says, trailing off, but she still steps through the door. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

Blake looks down to Yang’s bare feet and slips out of her shoes, all too aware of her pastel lemon-patterned socks. But Yang doesn’t even give her or her feet a second glance before ducking deeper into the apartment, and Blake’s stomach clenches.

This is a bad idea. This is a very, very bad idea.

But she follows Yang deeper into the house, and with every step she has to stop and stare. Art is everywhere, but she can tell it’s not just Yang’s. There’s monochrome paintings and stunning glossy photographs and sketches done in smeared charcoal over every square inch, and Blake wonders what it must be like in Yang’s mind, what it’s like to see beauty everywhere she looks.

Yang leads her through a small kitchenette and into the real show. There’s canvases everywhere, leaning against the walls and blank and ready to be painted, in all sizes. The easel is already set up with wet paint. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Blake says, biting her lip.

Yang waves her off and tosses her a bottle of water, which Blake manages to catch somehow. “You’re not, trust me,” Yang says. “This can wait.” Yang takes the canvas off the easel and smiles at her. “So, you here to pose or to see what I did with the sketches?”

“Both, I guess.”

Yang laughs and grabs a smaller canvas, carefully handing it over to her. “Take a look.”

It’s of Blake’s hands, the paint thick and chunky but somehow creates an incredibly smooth picture despite the obvious physical texture. Her hands seem delicate but sturdy, like Yang had snapped a photo of her in movement, acting with purpose and surety and certainty. Her hands have been painted with light haloing around them, a soft buttery gold that warms the icy blue background. Like she’s a saint. Like she’s capable of being a blessing, of blessing someone. Like she’s good.

Her fingers hover over the smooth whirls of paint that seem to arch off the canvas and beg her to touch them, to feel what she imagines is silky soft. But she pulls her hand back, even if she doesn’t dare wrench her gaze away. “Beautiful,” she whispers, her throat thick. Yang even noticed the small scar on her right ring finger from a papercut that somehow left a pale scar and the freckle on the inside of her left index finger.

“Thank you,” Yang says, and when Blake looks up, Yang is smiling. “But this is just the start.” Yang takes the painting from her hands and sets it back down before gesturing Blake over to a chair by the window. “Here, just sit down here and look up or down, your choice!”

Blake gives her a quizzical look, but she still sits down. Yang’s hands hover around her but don’t ever touch her, something she appreciates. The stool isn’t the most comfortable, but she quickly settles in a position. “Is this what you’re looking for?” she asks as Yang settles behind her canvas. She’s looking at the feet of the easel, but when she raises her eyes she can make eye contact with Yang.

“You’re perfect.”

~~~

Blake comes back the next day. And the next day. And the next day, and the next day, until she’s been by Yang’s every day for two weeks.

“You know, I need to pay you,” Yang says suddenly one afternoon.

“What? Why?”

“I mean, you’re spending hours sitting in the same position. You’re providing a service, the least I can do is pay you for it.”

Blake shakes her head, her mouth dry. “No,” she says. “Please, don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Yang asks, her brow furrowing. “I mean, like, I’m pretty sure it’s unethical to not compensate you for doing this.”

Blake doesn’t say that she doesn’t have anything else to do, doesn’t say that she enjoys Yang’s quiet and loud company, doesn’t say that this is better than laying in bed and gives her a reason to shower. Instead, she says, “I don’t need the money.” It’s true, she doesn’t. When she sold the publishing house, she knew she would never have to work again, but, until a few months ago, she had still worked as an editor. Coco sometimes still texted her asking if she wanted to read manuscripts, but Blake usually gave her a noncommittal response. “And you buy me lunch, so call it even.”

Yang snorts. “Lunch is the least I can do,” she says, but she’s picked up her paintbrush once more and resumed. “Let me make you dinner one night.” Blake opens her mouth to respond, but Yang keeps going before she can. “I make a mean lasagna, and I always make too much, so you’d be doing me the favor.”

“Are you sure?” Blake asks. She’s barely eaten anything besides pastries and readied meals for months, and the sound of a home-cooked meal makes her stomach rumble.

“Yeah,” Yang says. “Least I can do.”

“It’s really not,” Blake says. Yang raises a brow, but she keeps painting, so Blake continues. “You’re just nice, Yang. Not everyone is as nice as you.”

“Well, I just want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.” Yang shrugs. “And maybe a little better than that if I can, but seriously, Blake. I don’t know who you hang out with, but you deserve nice things, and, dare I say, good things?” Yang winks at her. “You’re my muse. I think I’m allowed to give you as much as you give me.”

“I just sit here,” Blake says, but Yang is already shaking her head.

“No, Blake. You do so much more than that.”

~~~

Yang doesn’t show her any of the finished paintings after she sees the hands, but Blake knows she’s made several. She doesn’t mind not knowing, even if it makes her stomach twist. She wants to know what Yang sees, even if she doesn’t understand her perspective. How Yang can see her as anything good.

“So, uh, I have to tell you something,” Yang says one night after dinner, scratching the back of her neck.

Blake freezes up, but she nods. “Shoot.” She’s sick of you, she doesn’t want you, she’s done with you.

“Well, um, tomorrow is my mom’s birthday, and I won’t be around until after lunch.”

“Yeah, of course,” Blake says, her shoulders sagging. She’s washing the dishes, which Yang always protests her doing, but she still manages to get in there before Yang can. It’s the least she can do. “Is your family doing anything?”

“Not really. My, well, my mom died a couple years ago.” Blake stills, but Yang keeps talking. “And my sister is with my dad, but I got class in the morning, and I didn’t want to cancel.”

Blake pauses, setting the dish down on the drying rack. “Do you want to do something?” she asks. “Something for her?”

“Well, I usually get dinner at her old favorite restaurant here with my family or some friends, but I was thinking we can meet here and-”

“You should do that. Go out to dinner, I mean. Don’t- don’t feel obligated to hang out with me.”

“Obligated?” Yang repeats. “Blake, I do this because I want to. I want to be around you.” Yang’s voice wavers. “Do you not want to be around me?”

“No, I do, I just-” Blake sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t want to be a burden for you on a day like that. And you should see your friends.”

Yang is quiet for a moment. “Well, maybe I am,” she says carefully.

Blake turns around. “We’re friends?” she asks.

“Well, yeah.” Yang shrugs. “Unless you don’t wanna be friends, I mean.”

“No, I do! I really do, Yang.” She clears her throat and averts her gaze. “How about we go out to dinner? Celebrate her life and her wonderful daughter.”

Yang laughs, but the sound cracks briefly. “I’d like that.”

“Then tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

~~~

“No painting today?” Blake asks, slipping off her shoes as she enters Yang’s. Yang is wearing a jumpsuit the same color as her eyes, and there’s golden earrings cascading down onto her shoulders. She looks fancy. She looks good, and Blake can’t take her eyes off of her.

“Nope,” Yang says, smiling. “I wanna show you something.”

“Alright?”

Yang leads her to the upstairs with the actual kitchen and living room, spaces she’s practically lived in for the past few months. There’s a laptop open, which Yang silently slides to her. Blake raises her brows, but she reads the article title, and her heart stops.

“It’s not published yet,” Yang says, the words distant. “I wanted to surprise you but show you first.”

XIAO LONG’S ANGEL the title reads, and Blake silently scrolls through the unpublished article. There’s pictures of paintings, and she instantly knows they’re the paintings Yang did of her.

There’s none of her face. Nothing that could identify her. But there’s more of her hands, reaching and praying and receiving. There’s her silhouette in golden light, and she seems to be breathing and moving. There’s her bare shoulders and back, and there’s sharp golden shards of wings growing from her body. There’s her mouth curled in a smile and soft and shining, pink and rosy. There’s her dark hair cascading down her back as she reaches for something out of frame.

Pieces of her, and not. This isn’t her. She’s too broken to be this beautiful.

“Blake?” Yang asks, and that bright smile fades.

Blake wrenches her gaze from the laptop and stares down at her hands, her eyes hot. She’s not that, she can never be that. “That’s not me,” she says hoarsely, her voice shaking. “That’s not me, Yang.”

“It’s how I see you,” Yang says, her words a burning balm. “It’s you, Blake.”

Her throat closes up. “I’m not-”

“You are beautiful,” Yang says firmly. “You are beautiful and kind and amazing. And this is how I see you.” Yang hesitates, but she hands Blake a wrapped box. Her stomach turns, but she can’t stop herself from opening it with shaking hands.

A broken sob leaves her mouth. It’s her eyes.

Blake sets the canvas on the counter and closes her eyes, trying to breathe. “You don’t know me,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I’m not this person you see.”

Yang cups her face and leans down to look her in the eyes. “You are,” she says. “You are.” Her eyes dart to her lips, and Blake’s face flushes. “You are beautiful, and kind, and amazing,” Yang repeats. Her mouth parts. “And you are worthy, Blake.” Yang thumbs away a tear on her face and smiles sadly. “I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

“Yang-” She cuts herself off with a shaky breath. Instead of speaking, she leans into Yang’s touch. Her hands are soft but calloused with her work, but, most importantly, they’re Yang’s hands. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispers, but she still reaches back for Yang.

Yang smiles, and there’s tears in her lilac eyes too. “Yes, you do.”

She isn’t sure which one of them leans forward, if one or both of them do, but Yang’s mouth is on hers, and she can’t think. She doesn’t want to think beyond Yang. So Blake keeps her eyes closed and kisses her back, her hands grabbing onto Yang and not letting go.

Blake doesn’t deserve Yang. But Yang thinks she does, and maybe that can be enough. Maybe that will be enough, and Blake can love her. She doesn’t know, and there’s no way to know. But for the first time in months, in almost a year, she feels hope being sketched into her chest.

#rwby #bumbleby #my writing #answered prompt

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mnthpprt · 4 years

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Chapter 24: Blame It On The Juice

We finally arrive at the tavern and take a seat at a small table near the bar. Arthur is the only one to remain standing up, and he leans closer so I can hear him over the chatter.

“First round’s on me, darling. What would you like?” he asks. I ponder for a moment before answering.

“I’ve always wanted to try absinthe.” He nods, and looks over at Theo.

“Whiskey for me, half water.”

A few minutes later he returns, balancing three glasses between his hands, and proceeds to set them down on the table, careful not to spill any of them. Outside, it has begun to pour like there’s no tomorrow.

“Pernod Fils for the lady,” he says, imitating a waiter, “and whiskey for the ratbag.” Theo punches his arm, scowling, and sips his drink, making me laugh. Judging by the amount of teasing and insults between these two, they could either be good friends or truly hate each other. I know it is the former, because they seem to spend a lot of time together. They even walk their dogs at the same time every morning, and they do so willingly.

I take a small sip of the pearly green liquid, and am surprised by the sweet taste of anise and fennel in the drink.

“Yo, this is good,” I point out, satisfied. I lift my glass when I notice Arthur doing the same, and Theo begrudgingly joins in.

“To the green fairy, may she bless our dear Anaïs for the first time!” toasts the writer, holding back a laugh. I follow in with my own comedic announcement.

“To the Salon des Refusés du Salon des Refusés!” I say, jokingly, referring to Theo’s exhibition. The groundbreaking art I saw there would have been criticized even by the rejects of this time. “And to your and Vincent’s success, of course!”

“That, I can get behind,” Theo chuckles. “To you idiots.” He punctuates his covertly affectionate statement by taking a gulp of whisky, and Arthur and I follow suit. “So, hondje, you know about art. What is it like in your time?”

I am taken aback by the question. I don’t really know where to begin.

“Well... For starters, it’s incredibly different. To understand it one needs to know the history behind it, you know? Like, what happened between now and then for it to get to that point,” I explain, pausing to take another sip of absinthe. Theo leans forward on his chair, his blue eyes piercing me with interest. “I guess the main movement that started everything would be Dadaism. Do you know about World War One?” Theo shakes his head.

“One? By Jove, there are more?!” Arthur exclaims. I nod, my brows knitted together. If he lived through the first one, the Great War, I am concerned about how he might react if I continue. He seems to want to know more, so I keep talking.

“Arthur, if I remember correctly you died a few years before the second one. What was it, 1920 something?”

“1930,” he corrects me.

“Well, the Second World War started in 1939. It lasted for about six years, and it was brutal. But that’s not the point of this conversation.” I turn to Theo. “So, as you can tell by the name, the First World War was, well... massive. Pretty much all of Europe was involved and severely affected, both by the unprecedented death toll and the poverty that came after. People suffered while the rich clung to what they had, and the art world became increasingly inaccessible. You’ve seen yourself how conservative the elite can be when it comes to their precious culture.” He agrees with a nod. “So a movement emerged in response to this traditionalism, which some artists deemed unacceptable in a world where all of the rules had seemingly been broken already, and devastatingly so. I don’t know where the name came from, but Dadaism represents all the nonsense, everything that is irrational and ugly and primal. What these people were making was basically anti-art. Instead of it being aesthetically pleasing, their work strived to create a reaction in the viewer, to make them think.” I pause to drink again, and glance at Arthur. He knows what I’m talking about, he lived through it.

“And what does it look like?” Theo asks. I laugh.

“Oof, good question. It can look like anything, from sculptures made of random objects piled together to drawings and prints... More than anything, Dadaism was a concept, an ideology. It established that art should be reactionary, and not necessarily for the pleasure of the viewer. This became the basis for what in my time we call ‘conceptual art’, which is basically anything that makes a statement without it being explicit in the piece.”

“Like a riddle?” Arthur asks. He has already finished his glass of whisky.

“Something like that,” I chuckle. “But not always. One of the most outrageous ones I can remember is this man, Piero Manzoni. In the 60s... the 1960s, that is, he produced a series of cans labeled as ‘Artist’s Shit’, supposedly filled with... well, his own shit. It was meant as a critique of the art world at the time.” Theo’s eyes widen, and I hear Arthur let out a boisterous laugh. “Apparently one of his friends said that they were actually filled with plaster, but no one really knows for sure, because they’re too valuable to be opened. I think one of them was auctioned for like 300.000 euros.”

“Euros?” Theo asks after sipping his whisky, trying to recover from the surprise.

“Oh, right, that’s a new thing,” I remember. “So after that Second World War I mentioned before, a bunch of countries in Europe created a coalition, to protect the peace, and all that. And then, around the time I was born, it became a proper union and they changed the money, so we all use euros now. Well, then. Then?” I take a big sip of absinthe and savor it for a moment, frustrated with my own tangled words. “Ugh, time travel is so confusing. Anyway, one of those cans is worth, like, 100 million francs in ‘right now’ money, I think.”

Theo chokes on his drink. Arthur is just staring at me with his mouth hanging open, completely incredulous at my nonchalant statement.

“That is absolutely preposterous,” he finally says. I shrug.

“I guess that proves Manzoni’s point, doesn’t it?” I down what’s left of the absinthe and set the glass in the middle of the table. Arthur scoffs.

“No, no, she’s right.” I am surprised to hear Theo agree with me. He looks rather impressed. “Collectors will buy anything with the right name attached to it. Artist’s shit,” he laughs. “That’s brilliant.”

Maybe it’s his adorable dimples, or maybe it’s the alcohol running through my veins, but I have the sudden urge to mock him.

“Wow, who knew you had a sense of humor, knabbeltje!” I put emphasis on the word, causing him to blush, which subsequently makes me giggle. Arthur puts his fist up, laughing, and I bump it. “Ayyy, you learnt it!”

Theo gets up abruptly, and for a moment I fear I have offended him, but I relax when I see him walk towards the bar. He soon comes back with only two glasses, and leaves again to get his own. I sip my new drink, also containing the green liquor from before, and let out a little moan.

“This drink slaps,” I declare, and Arthur tilts his head in confusion.

“Slaps? Gods, Anaïs, it’s like you’re speaking an entirely different language.” I laugh and proceed to tell him about the ‘snack’ thing, how Theo called me a ‘knabbeltje’ and I took it as a compliment, so now he can’t use it on me anymore. Arthur laughs too when I finish the story. “Oh my, is that why he was blushing? Here I was thinking you two might have- Ow!”

I elbow him before he can finish the sentence, in part because I don’t need to hear it, and in part because I see Theo approaching. When he sits down, Arthur’s face lights up with an idea. I wonder what he’s plotting.

“Let’s play a game,” he says. “Bet I can deduce something about each of you. If I’m right, you drink, and if I’m wrong, I drink. Anaïs,” he turns to me. “There is something between you and Leonardo. You two have been in an awfully good mood lately.” I blush and sip my drink. “Ha! I knew it! Our sweet darling and our dear friend have been basket making in secret,” he exclaims. Judging by his face, I assume that’s an euphemism for sex.

“We have not!” I smack his arm. Although that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to. “Okay, my turn. Theo!” I choose loudly, pointing my finger at the art dealer. “You act so tough because you’re protective of Vincent and want to be taken seriously so nobody messes with him.”

Theo drinks before clearing his throat, and then turns to his friend.

“The reason you’re being so annoying lately is because you’re jealous of Leonardo,” he states. Arthur simply leans back on his chair with a smirk.

“Drink,” he commands. Theo obliges. “You have already scoured this bar for my next potential conquest, and you disapprove of all the options.” Theo drinks again.

“Is that what you do when you’re not pestering Sebastian for more coffee?” I laugh. Then a thought occurs to me. “How do they not find out about...? You know,” I ask, tapping my canine with a fingernail. I can’t risk saying it out loud in a place so crowded.

“They simply look like love bites, dear,” Arthur winks. “And they are, in a sense.”

“Huh.” I tilt my head, trying to imagine what that would be like, but I fail and move on to the game. “You sleep around so much to try to forget your guilt.”

Finally, he drinks. I don’t know what he feels guilty about, but I could recognize that emotion on anyone. However, I don’t ask any further. I do not want to pry.

He changes the topic by pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. I guess he does not like losing at his own game.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

Secret Journey > k.th

Chapter 13.

Basically just a really cute filler chapter.

I stand at the edge of the bed. One hand resting on my hip as I bite an apple watching Yuna sleep. "Wah. How could such an angel be sleeping in my bed." I mutter shaking my black hair into my face. My eyes drift down to Yuna’s growing belly and I smirk. What a precious life I have. I look over at the clock before tilting my head. "Why am I up at 6:45?" We have been getting up early these days for our schedules but the reason in my heart was because of my appointment later. It will be my first tattoo. I was scared for the pain but so excited. So happy that my first tattoo would be for my family. Yuna stirs in her sleep and I sit on the bed, I rub her bare thigh soothingly as she tosses and turns. Yeontan rubs his body against my ankle and I make quiet kissing noises to him. He stretches up on my leg, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he makes a big yawn. Yuna sniffles before looking around the room. "Aish! You scared me!" She whines loudly, I begin to chuckle as I bite another piece off of my apple. She looks at the clock before looking back at me in the oncoming dawn light. "Why are you up? Come back to sleep." She pats the empty spot in bed next to her. "I can't sleep. I'm too excited about the tattoo appointment today." Yuna sits up with a giggle, "I wish I could get one too. It'll be fun to watch you guys go through the pain." I snort before picking up Yeontan and placing him on the bed. His furry body wobbling over to Yuna, she kisses the top of his head as he lays down. His head on her thigh. I place the apple in the garbage next to the bed before laying down next to my wife. Yuna lays back, Yeontan in between us as we stare at each other. "When it comes time to pick a place for Bon Voyage, I'm going to choose Turks and Caicos." I tell her, she smirks in my directiom before light begins to radiate through the open wall unit. Someone was in the baby room. "Who's in there?" I call out before hearing little chuckles. I stand up and tilt my head before peeking down into the staircase. The shadow of a body scampering around the room. I look over at Yuna and wink before walking down the steps.

I step into the room as Hoseok and Jimin look up at me with stuffed animals in their arms. "What are you guys doing?" I ask with a laugh. "We got the stuffed animals in New York for Taekwon so we were putting them in his room." Jimin murmurs sheepishly. "Its 7 o'clock in the morning. You guys don't have to do it now." I smile at my brothers, "We thought you would be resting so we could surprise you later." The sound of small padding feet come from the steps and Yuna emerges with her hand on her belly in her black nightgown. "They're so cute!" She cheers opening her arms for hugs. Hoseok smiles widely and places the stuffed animals on the changing table before hugging her. She giggles as he hugs her tightly. "These are so thoughtful! Thank you for already taking good care of him." Jimin hugs Yuna and I jump into the fray. "Our nephew is the best!" Hoseok cheers making Yuna giggle. "Love you guys." Yuna says in the middle of the hug fest. "Love you too." Jimin whispers closing his eyes with a smile. We have the best family the world could give us.

I sit in the van clutching Jungkook as Yuna drives us to the tattoo shop. "Yuna the light is turning red... Yuna.... YUNA!" Jungkook yells, Yuna stops the car before rolling her eyes in the mirror. "I can see y'know. I'm not blind. I'm a good driver." Jungkook scoffs and clutches at my pea coat. I sit in silence, driving with Yuna is always scary but thinking of the pain from the tattoo is scaring me into silence. "You're pregnant! Have some consideration for Taekwon! Taehyung hyung say something!" I between Jungkook and Yuna as the car peels off at a quick speed. "I do care for Taekwon! He's perfectly safe as well as the two of you." Jungkook whines loudly before mumbling to himself about how he's too young to die. I bite my lip as Yuna continues to drive. Who knows, maybe the pain won't be terrible and it'll become a hobby I enjoy. Then, I could get some artsy tattoos. I look down at Jungkook's hand as it clutches to the front of my coat. His tattoos were small on his hand but they held a lot of meaning. "Does it hurt?" I ask quietly, my voice sounding smaller than I would like. Jungkook looks up at me and his eyes soften. "You get used to it. It's a good pain. If that makes any sense, no need to be scared hyung. Think back to when we were in New Zealand. You were terrified to ride with Namjoon hyung but once you knew that you would regret it if you didn't do the ride then you got excited. It's kind of the same concept. And you get forever art out of it." Jungkook explains pulling the right sleeve of his coat up. Yuna smiles through the mirror at us as she slows down the car. "There's nothing to worry about, Tae." She turns her head and winks at me before Jungkook whines again. "Eyes on the road, noona! I'm driving on the way home." Yuna rolls her eyes before turning her head and continuing the drive.

We step inside the tattoo shop and Jungkook high fives the tattoo artist. “Well, well! I heard V would never get a tattoo and here he is.” I bow to the artist before standing awkwardly my hands clasped together. “Come in, sit down.” He says with a laugh as Yuna strides over comfortably. She seems at peace in the atmosphere, her arm slinks over the chair beside her as she rests her hand on her growing belly. “I’m Gunmin.” The tattoo artist explains, Jungkook hops into the tattoo chair without a second glance to us. “I’m just going to close the shop really quickly.” Gunmin explains before shutting off the Open sign out front and drawing two black curtains. “Nice ink, you have there.” Gunmin says to Yuna, she bows her head before giving him a lazy smile. “Thank you, you too.” He smiles at her before looking over at me. “First tattoo ever, huh? You nervous?” I clear my throat before sitting down next to Yuna. “A-A little bit.” I admit, Yuna rubs my arm comfortingly as Gunmin sits down next to Jungkook. “It’s cool, maybe you’ll really enjoy it! It doesn’t hurt too much. Don’t worry.” Yuna looks over at me before kissing my cheek. I pull the tattoo idea from my bag before staring at it. "Do you think it will look nice?" I ask her as she leans against me. "It'll look great! Don't worry, you'll love it I'm sure." "So you're their manager?" Gunmin asks as he sets up his station. "Yeag and Taehyung's wife." Yuna points to me and I smile to myself. I could never get tired of hearing that. "That's awesome. Congratulations!" Jungkook looks up from his phone and gives Yuna a smile before looking back down. "What're you getting today, Kook?" "A T on the side of my hand with a small rattle underneath." Jungkook explains and Yuna looks up with a wide smile. "You don't have too! That's so sweet Kookie!" He looks at her belly before giving a bunny smile. "My first nephew, it's important!" Yuna giggles before leaning her head back on the gray wall. "And you, V?" I hold up the sketch and shrug. "I made a sketch." Gunmin holds out his hand before grabbing the paper. "Cool! Looks great! You're an artist, huh?" "I like to make art I don't know if artist is the term I'd use though." I give an embarrassed chuckle, "He's a great artist!" Yuna fawns about me happily. She rubs the top of my hand before looking at Jungkook as he raises his hand. She always has such great things to say about me. My heart is so full of love for this woman. Gunmin puts on his black gloves, the snapping noise resounding throughout the now quiet room before the tattoo gun goes on, the sound of it shrieking and consistent. Jungkook gives me a thumbs up before relaxing in the chair. Gunmin draws the T and the rattle before showing it to Jungkook. Jungkook gives a nod of consent before closing his eyes. He flinches as the tattoo gun licks at his skin. I swallow and look over at Yuna before giving me a reassuring smile. "You don't have to get anything if you don't want to." I shake my head before shaking a fist. "Taehyung, hwaiting." I mutter before looking at the drawing on the table.

I sit down in the chair as Jungkook pats his now covered tattoo on his hand. Yuna pats his shoulder before looking at me. "Do you want to hold my hand?" She asks with a giggle. I clear my throat before scoffing. "I'm a man, Yuna." She opens her mouth and nods before laughing. "Where are we putting this?" Gunmin asks as he draws out the tattoo with a purple marker. "Under my armpit." Yuna bites her lip, "The ribs are painful. Just to let you know." Gunmin says eyeing me wearily, I look down at my hands as they are clasped together tightly. The pain will be short but the artwork for my family will last forever. “I understand.” I say before taking off my shirt. I lift up my arm as Gunmin picks up the stencil paper and placing it on my body. The feeling is so strange having this thin piece of paper on my body. Gunmin peels the paper off before holding up a mirror. I look down at the tattoo and tilt my head. It was so weird to see the marker on my body it’s pretty exciting. I nod my head before smiling widely. “Looks good, hyung.” Jungkook says before folding his arms. Yuna puts her hands over her mouth as she smiles. “I never thought Kim Taehyung would ever get a tattoo.” Yuna laughs before crossing her legs. I look over at her and give her a wink. “I think some color would be nice, if you want, black and grey would also be cool but turning into a cherry blossom tree would be sick.” Gunmin says leaning back in his chair. Yuna holds out her arms showing her colorful tattoos. “Whatever you like baby.” She says before rubbing her stomach. “My God, Taekwon will not stop moving.” Jungkook laughs putting his phone away. “He is probably excited to know his dad is going to be writhing in pain in five minutes.” I roll my eyes before looking at Gunmin. “That sounds like a good idea.” He gives me a smirk and a thumbs up before turning on the tattoo gun. I raise my arm once more as my hands start to sweat. I guess I am a little nervous. The sound radiates through my body. “Ready?” Gunmin asks before putting on a small smirk. I nod before clutching my fists and closing my eyes. The sound comes closer and closer before my body shudders in pain, the tattoo gun dragging through my skin as the tattoo gun gives hot licks at my skin. I open my eyes before biting my bottom lip. Yuna looks over at me as I whine. “Hold on, hold on!” I whine before pouting and holding out my hand. Yuna laughs loudly throwing her head back before standing up. She shuffles over to me before grabbing a rolling chair behind her. She sits down before grabbing my hand. “Oh fuck, your hand is so sweaty!” She laughs putting her head back and pulling her hand away from me and wiping her hand on my pants. I snort before wiping my hand as well. Gunmin snorts before fixing his gloves. “Okay, let’s go.” She says grabbing my hand again. Gunmin looks at me and I give a nod. Here goes nothing.

I stare in the mirror with my shirt off, my arm lifted above my head with a small smile on my face. The clear cellophane over my new tattoo reflecting in the bedroom lighting. The tattoo admittedly did hurt but it was so worth it, it looks so great! And, I’ll get to have it forever which is the best. Yuna peaks into the bedroom before giggling. “Are you that happy with it?” She asks before leaning against the door post. “I can see why you got so many, it’s amazing.” I put down my arm and Yuna smirks. “The Wooga squad will be here in thirty minutes, Seo Joon called and said.” I nod before grabbing my shirt, “Ah, should I not put on a shirt now that I’m cool?” I ask my wife, she snorts before picking up Mochi at her feet. “You’ve always been cool.” Yuna blows me a kiss before walking out. “Where are you going?” I ask loudly. “I’m making food for your friends!” Yuna calls back with a laugh. “Come look at my tattoo some more!” I shuffle out into the hallway and stare at my wife in our open kitchen. “I’m going to see it for the rest of my life.” She looks up at me as she ties her hair in a ponytail. Just the thought makes me smile widely. “Shall I help you cook?” I ask walking out into the living room. “Just relax, I’m okay. Watch some t.v. or something.” I walk over and sit on the bar stool, my hand placed underneath my chin as she begins to cook. “Wah, you’re so cool when you cook, baby.” She looks up and smirks before grabbing a knife. She sticks her tongue out before placing her ingredients on the cutting board. She starts cutting and it’s as if her entire personality has changed. Everything about the way she carries herself is so different and it’s amazing to see. “Tomorrow we’re going to go over the Bon Voyage meeting and start getting that together.” I nod giving a hum. “I can’t wait! We’re going to have so much fun together with Taekwon as well.” She smiles before looking back down. Life was really coming together, it’s so perfect it seems like a dream.

#secret journey #bts #BTS story #bts series #bts imagine #bangtan #taehyung #kim taehyung #suga #yoongi #jungkook #jeongguk #j-hope #hobi #hoseok #jimin #chim #seokjin #jin #rm #namjoon

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taetae-tea · 6 years

Text

Romanticism

⋙Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, College!au

⋙Paring: JinXreader

⋙Word-count: 5.9K

⋙Warnings: abusive childhood (bullies), praise-kink, grinding, cum play, slight impregnate-kink, moaning, groaning, growling, dirty-talk, oral, unprotected-sex, aftercare

⋙Summary: You played someone to survive, you weren’t yourself. You’ve never been able to really do whatever you want to do, until Jin came along one day.

⋙Request: Hi, This is my first request ever and I would like to ask if you can do NSFW smut on them getting grinding on and what they would do afterwards

⋙A/N: Okay so this was first based on this, but I changed my ways and now it turned into a full story, buT I STILL PUT IN THE GRINDING So no need to hate hihi ly xx

You look out of the window of your apartment, sighing to yourself as long strives of rain made their way down your windows, blocking the great few of the city. You’ve always liked the sight and scent of rain. It calmed you in all the right ways. relaxation you certainly need once in a while.

A sudden noise dragged you back into reality, interrupting the oasis that landed into your body just moments ago. The noise came from your phone, which was located on the coffee table right in front of your half-naked figure. You let out another sigh, this time in a rather irritating manner. But, whatever the message might’ve been, you didn’t have much of a choice but to look at it. Socializing, they call it. Yeah sure, but for you it’s a way to survive.

Park: I’ve planned a party tomorrow evening. It begins at 8 pm and ends at whatever time you plan to leave😉 It’s at the BT dorms. Notify me when you bring more people with you!

You sigh for the third time this fine evening. Though parties aren’t that bad and sometimes they are actually quite enjoyable, it’s still not your ideal night.

You: Will be there😘

You throw your phone somewhere randomly on the couch. You close your eyes for a small second, trying to find back the calming vibes you had picked up minutes ago, but it’s hard to find them back when the only thing you can think of is: what am I going to wear tomorrow?

‘So you’re coming tonight? Not that I’m surprised.’ Jimin says excitingly to you as he sat down on the seat besides you. You nod and flashed him a smile, fake, I should add. He grinned back before unpacking his textbook for this subject, which happens to be Art History.

This class never really interested you, well not as the fake you then. The real you loves the subject, but not like it’s something you would ever show to the world. But, this era in the art books does seem to be one of your favorite times in the history of art. It’s the time of Romanticism, right in the middle of the industrialization, ironically enough. It’s when society looked for a better place, to forget the ‘now’, to forget the horribleness of the reality. The is rain to you is just like the paintings in those times, an escape from the ‘now’ and to create your own world.

‘Y/N, what aspects from Romanticism can you find back in this painting?’ Your art-class teacher asked you. She ripped you from your thoughts right on that moment and you felt caught for not listening. But, since you understand this epoch in the art-history quite well, your answer came out as an reflection.

‘By the mysterious theme and nature that is almost overpowering, you can clearly tell it’s from The Romantic era.’

‘Can you go deeper into your answer?’ Your teacher asks and you can see the frown of surprise, not used to you being so knowledgeable. You can see how she thinks you just be reading something out of the book and somewhere, it boosted you to tell her your knowledge.

‘Yes of course miss. Because they wanted to escape reality, nature came into few pretty fast. Nature has nothing to do with the reality of the humans, it goes its own beautiful way. Mystery was also a way to express the beautifulness of the unknown. The known in that time was something like the industry, the so called reality which they were so desperate to not see.’

The class was shocked and you heard a few people whisper. Even Jimin didn’t point out a remark. You weren’t popular for your smart remarks, you were actually popular for your dumb remarks. So, hearing you speak something that could define intelligence was aught to be the gossip of the school. It almost made you roll your eyes, almost. But you correct yourself and you smile in a shy manner.

‘My mother used to be a fan of this era, that’s why.’ You immediately try to explain and your teacher nods slowly, but she knew that wasn’t true, since your mother wasn’t even there when you were young. But to be faire, your teacher isn’t the most normal pall in this school, like all other art-teachers.

‘Well, you were entirely correct. Well done!’ She smiles and you nod as you return the gesture.

The class went by slowly, like every class does. Your little outburst of knowledge was soon to be forgotten besides a few complements of your classmates while leaving the class. Jimin didn’t know how to react, so he parted ways quite fast when you were just out of the classroom.

‘I have to go plan some stuff y/n, see you tonight! He had yelled before disappearing into the crowd. You just shrug before making your way to your locker.

But just as you were going to make a turn left, someone grabbed your wrist and stopped you mid-tracks.

You frown and spin yourself around to see the intruder. It’s someone you don’t recognize, but he should be someone you would recognize. Plumb lips, soft skin, handsome features, tall and incredibly build. As an instinct, you put on a flirtatious voice.

‘How may I help you mister handsome?’ You say as you winked at him, something that always does the trick with boys. It looks like he didn’t give one damn about your doings and just began to talk himself.

‘There is an exhibition tonight of a famous Romanticism-artist. The person who I ment to go with bailed on me, so do you want to come with me?’ He held up two tickets and when you look closer, big letters ‘Casper David Friedrich’ your eyes went wide and a smile crept up your face out of excitement.

‘Fuck how did you get these? I’ve been trying to get tickets for months already-.’ You stopped yourself before you could go on further. You shake your head no, reminding yourself you shouldn’t get too excited. That’s not who you are, your identity, or who you’re trying to be.

‘I would love to, I mean,’ you correct yourself and the handsome guy looks at you with a frown. He didn’t understand the change in your behavior and to his surprise, he felt drawn to you because of that. What are you hiding?

‘Wait, fuck, until how late is the exhibition?’

‘Uhm, until 10 I think, it’s at the city nearby.’ He explains and you nod to yourself. You could still make it to Jimin’s party after that, some people come 2 hours late, casually. Right?

But then again, what happens when they find out? You can’t have your whole reputation thrown away by just one extraordinary night with an handsome guy. There with, you don’t know this guy, what if they will think you’re easy? That will ruin you, just like it did many years ago.

‘I-I don’t know.’ You sigh, scratching your head as you look around you, trying to see any people whispering about you already. ‘I barely know you and I have a party this evening too...’

‘You did seem to be pretty serious about this art style, I really thought you were interested.’ He said, leaning against the wall besides the both of you. His face taunts you, he knew you were lying and not to him, to yourself. It feels like he could see right through the popular barrier.

‘I-... I mean yes, but I don’t know if I’ll make it to the party and-.’

‘Here.’ He grabs your hand softly and places one of the tickets in your hand. He closes your fingers around it and showed you a small smile. ‘I’ll be there at 7, if you aren’t there around that time, I’ll walk in myself.’ He tells you and you nod, enchanted by his movements and you could feel your heart skip a beat when he touched your hands.

‘I do hope to see you tonight y/n.’

Those were his last words before disappearing into the crowd of walking college students. You clench your jaw as you didn’t knew what to do. To take a risk, or to stay in your comfort-zone, somewhere you knew everything was going to be as planned.

That day didn’t went any better after the handsome beauty had visited you. You didn’t knew what to do, what would be the best plan. Frankly, you can’t ask anyone for help, not a single person who knew your real identity. Not a simple person who knew that you weren’t outgoing, happy and refreshing. Under this skin of popularity, you were scarred of the past.

The fact that you loved different things, made life an hell. You never wanted to go out, you didn’t feel the need to. You never made friends, simply because you knew they weren’t right for you. But all those things made you fragile and an easy target for those who bullied.

Those memories were there everyday to remind you. It reminded you to this time make friends, go out and do what every college student does. It’s surviving and there with the best option you have.

Namjoon: Heard you’ll be going to the party tonight😏

Namjoon: Why don’t we finish what we started at the last one hm?

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what Namjoon is going for. You look at the clock, reading 6 pm. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest as you felt frustrated. You still haven’t made your choice this 6 hours you’ve gotten it. Your heart longed for the exhibition and the mystery guy, while your mind knew that the party was your best option.

It’s something you couldn’t make up, couldn’t reason. Why did you feel the urge to be popular? Why is it that you can’t actually enjoy life simply because of this unspoken thing inside of you? The answer is simple, but something you won’t admit. Fear. It’s fear that drove you to do the things you don’t want to do.

You: sounds perfect😉

Namjoon: That’s my baby girl😘

You shudder by the gross feeling. Sure, Namjoon is handsome and has a good set of brains, but he isn’t your lover. And the fact you’ll maybe sure a bed with him tonight, made you sick. Really, what are you doing with your life?

You look back at the clock again and 5 minutes have past.

Namjoon: Fuck I’m already hard thinking about you😩💦 can you maybe show me some pics of your outfit tonight bby?😏

You stared at the screen and it’s at that point you knew you didn’t want this. It’s like your mind and heart finally sinked for a slight moment and before you knew, you were dressing yourself up. Your put on black jeans with a turtle neck, a coat and some boots. You got your camera out of a shell, somewhere you haven’t been for years and you even had to un-dust the thing before pulling the string around your neck.

Them you left and went on your way to the exhibition, no doubts and thoughts to hold you back. For once, you follow the path your heart leads you.

‘y/n! You’re here!’ The handsome anonymous approached you and you gave him a nod, smiling shyly. His features really is something to take in every time, and you can say anything about him, but his lips do look kissable.

‘Yes of course! How can I not.’ You exclaim as you both made your way to the entrance. You gave your tickets to the guard, which approves and lets you in with a smile.

‘Well, you have a party tonight remember?’ He reminds you, but you shrug. ‘I guess that has to wait for once.’ You say before turning around and blocking him for walking further. ‘But before we continue, handsome stranger, what is your name?’

He laughs at your cute act and he holds himself back to ruffle your hair. ‘Isn’t some mystery funny? We’re at a romantic exhibition anyways, it’s what the era stands for. But you’d know right?’ He says with a little smirk and you scoff, now folding your arms over one another. ‘Look, we aren’t in the 19th century sister. You better give me a name before I will just call you dickhead.’ His laugh that followed couldn’t be any more beautiful and he shook his head slightly, not believing the words that left your mouth.

‘My name in Kim Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin.’ He introduces himself and you nod with an happy smile. You turn around again and excitingly called for him to follow you, because oh my god, you just caught a glimpse of a painting that is worth at least a million. Of course you have to take photo’s of it.

The night went on like a train, something you haven’t felt in years. It’s so pure and gentle, the kind of pleasurable feeling you’re receiving from this evening. It feels addicting. Addicted to your own likings, your own thoughts and addicted to him. He is the reason for you to feel this free is such a long time already, it almost feels like magic.

But, magic has to stay magic and shouldn’t interfere with reality. This has to be a one night thing, something to look back on.

‘Ahh, that was amazing’ Jin says as he stretches his arms above him, noting you it was quite tiring too. You’ve walked a lot, taken a lot of pictures and the conversation you had were too good. You talked about anything that came up into your minds and surprisingly, the way you both thought was quite similar. Jin is different than any man you’ve met in the past few years and you don’t want to lose him just yet. You want to savor this feeling for just a bit longer before you return into the real world you’ve escaped tonight.

‘You still going to that party?’ He asks you as you arrived at a nearby busstation. You shake your head no. If there is anything you don’t want, it must be to ruin your mood.

‘So you’re free for the rest of the night?’ His face lit up like a child given its candy. You chuckled before giving him and answer. ‘Yes you’re right about that.’

He hums into the quiet evening air, not a single car driving on the road since it’s just a little side track no one takes except this very bus.

‘How about we get some pizza and some drinks, get to your place and have a relaxing night?’ He asks and you couldn’t decline. The way his eyes tingle and his big smile was very much visible under the dim lights, you felt your heart ache in all the good ways.

‘Great.’

‘Indeed great.’

[8:46pm]Namjoon: y/n where are you?

[8:51pm]Namjoon: you’re hiding aren’t ya😏

[8:53pm]Namjoon: I don’t mind to play a game anyways💦💦

[9:30pm]Park: where u at?

[9:45pm]Park: y/n?

[9:47pm]Namjoon: yo, are you really not coming?

[10:15pm]Namjoon: whatever, I’ll just fuck some other chick

[10:30pm]Park: Namjoon is really looking for you, you know. Kinda a dick move to bail on him like that.

The messages stream in when you turn on your phone again, just when you arrived home. Jin was just setting up the coffee table as you sighed because of the messages.

‘Who are they?’ Jin asked as he had read a few names on your screen before settling down beside you. ‘My real life.’ You sigh, putting away your phone as you chose to ignore the two names in your phone. Jin frowns before grabbing a pizza slice and sitting back, waiting for you to explain.

When you didn’t react any further, he decides to ask you the question himself. ‘Then what am I?’

‘A dream.’ You answer and you stare outside the window again, hoping for drips to fall down, to calm you. You hate confrontation, it’s the one thing you’re bad at. Really bad at. You always try to escape the room, but you knew you couldn’t do this with Jin, he deserves your time, your explanation. He had send you the best day of your life and thereby you are very thankful.

‘And I can’t be your reality?’ He asks, voice softer and caring. He wasn’t hurt, he knew something was up with you. You are broken and in need of help, to be healed. He is happy to help you with that.

‘No, you can’t. You must be a dream.’ You feel yourself tear up as you still didn’t see any water drips falling out of the sky. You try to hold yourself hard, but when you feel a hand on your back making circles in your skin and a voice telling you it’s okay to cry, you began crying your eyes out.

All the stress, all the bullshit just came streaming out of your body as tears. Jin didn’t embrace you and just kept making little circles in your skin as he praised you.

‘Good job, let it all out sweetheart.’

It must’ve taken you at least half an hour until there were no tears left and you had leaned your head against his shoulder. He didn’t force you to tell, why you were so broken. He didn’t thought it was his business. The only thing he cared about, was your future and if he was going to be in it.

‘I’m sorry for my outburst.’ You whisper and he chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t mind. But the food is cold now though.’ He remarks and you huff, slapping his chest for ruining the mood. ‘Jesus, give me a sec, I’ll warm it up-.’

‘No, don’t. I want to stay like this.’ He stops your movements and held you close to his body. If it wasn’t for him, you would’ve bolded out of that situation. You don’t like it when guys are too touchy too fast. But, Jin is different. He feels like home to you, someone you can trust. So needless to say that you staid in his arms.

You ended up cuddling on the couch, you being between his legs as he had put on the tv, eating cold pizza because the both of you still felt hungry.

‘You know that I never went to a public school when I was younger?’ Jin suddenly said and you frown, shaking your had.

‘I went to private schools and had to do what people told me to do. I wasn’t myself and I wasn’t allowed to be too.’ His arms tighten around your waist, tensing as he exposed his own story. You place your hand on his arms to sooth him as you urge him to go on.

‘I ran away 2 years ago and went to different colleges to pursue my own dreams, which is to be an art-teacher.’ He told you and you smile. You could see him teaching Youngers his own love and passion and you felt so intrigued in that. You yourself never thought of your dream career, it’s still to be found out.

‘The sadness of being forced to be someone else is the same sadness I felt with you. I don’t know if I’m right or wrong, but I think I understand you.’ And just like that, he had figured you out. You widen your eyes as everything suddenly became too real and you had to create some distance between the both of you. You didn’t know what to do, you can’t let him into your reality, you will only drag him down with you.

But what if you really escaped everything, like the the artists did on their paintings. Go away like Jin once did, begin a new life, again, but then the right way? To begin as yourself and not to pretend to be someone else.

‘Jin, should we run away together?’

The question left your mouth before you could really think twice about it. Jin only stared at you for a long time, looking for any dishonesty, but when he couldn’t find it, he grabbed your cheek and brought you closer to him. His lips were in an instant on yours as his lips softly massaged against yours and you responded vastly, grabbing his neck to bring him closer. The kiss was slow and sensual, something so perfect in this situation.

‘Hell yeah.’ He sighs against your lips, a smile on his face as he pulled you back again. You giggle slightly, feeling so happy in his arms.

It didn’t take him long before he pulled you on his lap, you grinding against his crotch as the kiss grew hotter. His hands dig into the skin of your hips, guiding you over his half-hard cock and making you moan in the process. The kiss escalated into a sloppy one, tongues massaging against each other and teeth colliding.

‘Fuck y/n, are you sure? Do you have any condoms?’ He shots questions at you as he halts you. But lucky for him, you are on the pill and with a rock of you hips you let him know him, smirk visible on your lips.

‘Fuck.’ He curses under his breath as he threw his head back, his delicious neck visible and ready to be marked.

You immediately dive down to plant your lips on the crook of his neck and sucked purple marks all over the place and he grabbed your waist by your action.

‘We’re not doing this here.’ He groans and you look up at him questionable, but he was already lifting you up and walking you to the bedroom you guided him to. He let you fall on the un-made bed and you giggle as you bounce slightly, making him flash a smile too.

‘You’re so beautiful y/n, just like you. Not like anyone else but you.’ He tells you while looking down at you in aw and you give him a smile in response. ‘You aren’t that bad too, handsome.’ You tease and he huffs, shaking his head as he places himself between your legs.

‘Let’s first get rid of these.’ He murmurs when undoing your jeans and pulling them down and off. He did the same with your turtle neck sweater. He groans when he sees the matching lacy black underwear you choose to wear this morning. You smirk at him, loving his reaction and seeing how his erection seems a little more painful in his own jeans.

‘You like it?’

‘A little bit too much I might add.’ He winks at you and you couldn’t hold yourself back but to pull him closer to you again.

This feels so different. All this time you had to fake your interrest, to fake your feelings for another guy. But now, with Jin, you felt different. You want him to fuck you, you want him to love you and spend time with you. First, you thought he might be just a dream, but slowly he is becoming a real dream. A dream what is getting more and more addicting and maybe, hopefully, will be your reality some day.

When the kiss grows hot again and he starts the grind his hips down against your entrance, you moaned loudly and reached down for his dipper. He helped you vastly and undid his trousers, pulling them down and letting them fall off the bed. When you then reach down agin, you felt his boxers and then outline of his heavy cock in your hand. He groans into the kis and jerks his hips up for more friction.

‘So needy, aren’t we.’ You whisper into his ear and you got a light smack on your ass in return. ‘Oh shut up.’ He returns and smiles down at you after disconnecting again.

Your hand now sneaks into his boxers and pulled them down slightly to expose his throbbing cock, pre-cum already leaking. You hum in content, drooling by the sight and sending waves of warmth straight down to your centre.

‘You like what you see?’ He now returns the question with a cocky smirk and you just nod. ‘A bit too much I might add.’

He got his hands on the edge of his shirt and pulled it up and off, revealing his toned figure and you couldn’t resist but to touch. You finger traced the lines of his abs and it awakened cute little goosebumps.

‘You’re so beautiful, Jin.’ You sigh and he smiles back at you, now also getting rid of his boxers, being fully exposed to you. You pull him down back on the bed with you as you just needed him to be close to you, to feel his warmth.

He slides his cock against your clothed slit, making you squirm on your place. He chuckles against your hair, making you shiver only more and you moaned for him to touch you.

‘Can I take this off?’ He asks when his hands hook around your underwear and you nod, telling him to go on. He does so and the moment also your bra was located on the ground, he just stared at your naked body right in front of him. He literally didn’t know where to look and touch.

‘Fuck... I could get used to this.’ He groans. He leans down between your thighs, hooking your legs around his shoulders and immediately licked his way up your slit, tasting you for the first time. You moan loudly as you finally felt some relieve between your legs.

‘So delicious, baby girl.’ He growls and before you knew, he was eating you out. His lips working against your slit like he is kissing you and hand making circling around your clit to make you completely lose your mind. Your hips rock against his hand as you chased his movements and before you could register, the familiar heath began to form into your belly.

‘Omg, Jin. You’re so good.’ You whine and he groans in response as he swore your moans are the most beautiful things he ever heard. He then added a finger into your entrance as it followed the pace of his other hand on your clit.

‘You want to be stretched out good baby?’ He asks and you nod furiously, head thrown back as he adds another finger into you.

‘You want to be stretched out good for me right? For my cock to fill you up just nicely.’ He says and it was then that your climax approached very fast. His words, his movements, his fingers and his tongue. It all got you to the edge pretty fast and when he groaned loudly against your slit upon seeing you vulnerable like this, you climaxed.

You almost saw blurry as the cum flew out of you and you felt dizzy of the intensity. Jin bumped his fingers for a short while further before letting go and sitting up right, looking at your fucked-out figure. It was a sin to witness, but still oh so delicious.

When you look up, you couldn’t help but to moan slightly as you see Jin’s face slightly covered under your juices and lips swollen. His eyes are dark and when you look down, you see his hand guiding itself over his hard cock.

‘Jin, fuck me already.’ You whine and like that was the que, he opened your legs wide apart for him to fit in between. He lined himself in front of your entrance, giving you a last few glances before finally pushing inside.

Your arms reach around him as you push him close against you, moaning as he stretched you out further than you had expected. You throw your head back as the stretch was somewhat burning and painful, but by the soothing words of Jin, you managed to calm down.

‘Tell me if it’s too much, or if you’re uncomfortable. We’ll stop if so.’ He managed to tell through groans, created by his own waves of pleasure he is feeling by your tightness. You nod slightly as you just hug your body close to his, knowing that you will eventually grow used to the feeling.

You connect your lips again, slowly moving against one another to distract you from the pain. He slips a few praises through the kiss, telling you you’re doing great and that you’re so tight around him.

‘J-Jin, you can move.’ You tell him and he didn’t wait a second longer and pushed out of you slightly before pushing back in, making a little pace onto you as he groans against your ear.

‘Fuck y/n... So fucking tight for me.’ He growls and honestly, that’s the most sexy thing you’ve ever heard one speak to you. Your nails dig into his back as he finally made harder and deeper thrusts.

The way he breathes loudly against your ear and how your could feel every inch of him constantly entering you, made you slightly dizzy as the familiar warmth returned into your belly.

Jin eventually began to rock his hips into yours and his balls slapped against your bottom by the force. He held himself up on his arms, which were located beside your head as he looked down at you, seeing your breasts bounce and moans leaving your throat.

‘So beautiful.’ He whispers out and right on that moment he found your g-spot, sending you right into heaven. You throw back your head and arched yourself into his body, calling for him to go on, fuck you harder and harder.

He grabbed your legs and pushed them forward, your knees right beside your head as he speeds up his pace more, now having more room to hit that one special spot within you. You could only make out short and high-pitched moans as the pleasure almost became unbearable.

‘You’re gonna cum baby?’ Jin asks as he feels you clench around his cock and when you nod, he places his fingers on your clit, triggering your climax right then and you let out a long cry in respons.

Jin kept is pace, chasing his own high as he felt your cum around his dick as well as your clenching walls. It only took him a few more hard thrusts until he came into your pussy, sperm coating your walls and thrusting them deeper into you.

If the climax wasn’t enough, the added feeling of his cock inside of you and cum spurting onto your walls made you cringe from the overstimulation. You had to grab his hips to halt them before you really were going to feel uncomfortable and of course he immediately halted his moves.

‘Are you okay baby?’ He asks out of concern, hands now letting go of your legs and letting them back down on the bed. He grabbed your waist and made soothing circles into the skin, making you smile up at him.

‘Yeah, just got overstimulated for a second.’ You confess and he pouts, telling you to react quicker when that happens. You just shake your head and push him back down and the both of you groan when you feel him slide further into you again. He can’t resist but to thrusts a few times more, burrying his cum deeper inside of you and making sure it wont spill out.

‘Are you trying to impregnate me mister Kim?’ You tease him and he just shrugs. ‘It just feels right, having you all filled with my cum.’ He murmurs against your neck. You slap his back with your hand as you feel embarrassed by his words.

‘Shut up.’ You murmur back and he huffs, now slowly sliding out of you and giving a little peck on your nose when you hissed of the feeling.

‘I’ll get you cleaned, wait.’ He says before rushing off outside. You laugh as you hear him walking around, knowing he is looking for your bathroom.

‘At the end of the hall, left.’ You say loudly and you hear him stand still before thanking you and walking to his destination.

When he returned, he had a warm towel in his hand and asked you to open your legs again. You did say and to be completely honest, this has never happened to you. All the guys you’ve been aren’t didn’t do cleaning afterwards, they most likely fall asleep.

‘Your face is still red, ore is that because I’m doing this for you right now?’ He asks, a cocky smirk back on his lips. You just look away as his cleans up your cum-coated slit and inner thighs.

‘Nobody ever did this to me.’ You murmur and he let out an irritated sigh. ‘Clearly you haven’t met a real gentleman yet.’ He said as he finished up and got rid of the towel.

‘Until today of course.’ You remark at him and he chuckles at that. ‘Well, I simply know it must not feel all that nice to have dried-up cum between your legs the next morning.’ And he surely is right, that shit sucks balls.

He laid himself beside you as he tucked the both of you under the blankets. He pulled you close as you rest your head against his chest, your limbs tangled up in one another. His heartbeat is slow and soothing, letting you feel calm and peaceful, something you never felt in a company with a guy before.

‘Do you really want to run away? With me?’ He suddenly asks and you nod. You are one hundred procent sure. Your heart and head both knew that this was the best option. You weren’t happy in your current life, it was almost just as bad as you life before college. With this beautiful stranger you only met today, you felt comfortable and yourself. That was what you wanted all along, to be yourself and to feel happy. Jin gave you the opportunity to be that someone.

‘I have never felt this happy before in my life, I don’t feel happy in this place. I want to run away with you and start a better life.’

And there with, it was decided.

The next morning you both packed your stuff, only the most needed things in life to travel. You signed off of your campus and said goodbye on all your social media account.

[5:49pm]Park: So basically, you’ve pretended to be someone because of your horrible past? I’ve many questions but I don’t want the answers simply because I don’t care. The only thing I care for is your happiness and I hope you will find it. Sorry for the things I’ve put you through, only if I’d known... we’ve all loved you, just so you know! Goodbye y/n☺️🌸

‘Who are you texting? i thought you deleted everyone?’

‘Jealous already?’ You smirk at Jin, who is driving you towards another place. Somewhere far away and far from reality. He is driving you to a dream you will be living and a dream you always hoped to live one day.

‘How about in-n-out?’

‘Hell yeah.’

287 notes · View notes

niigoki · 7 years

Text

TWICE title: we’re a mess (let’s finish what we started) - Chapter 8 pairing: NaMo, MiMo, Saida, JeongMi, 2yeon, Chaeyu

Read on Ao3 or AFF

3 years ago

Ragged breaths filled the room as the two bodies adjusted their positions messily on the bed. Nayeon’s forehead was covered in sweat, her hair sticking to it and all over the pillow, and her chest rose up and down with each breath as she recovered from her high. Jeongyeon climbed back up from under the sheets, plopping down next to her, giving her girlfriend room to breathe. She stole looks from time to time, afraid of having messed up their first time, but Nayeon was simply quiet.

They enjoyed the silence for a while, basking in the afterglow, then Nayeon started to laugh breathlessly.

“What?” Jeongyeon asked, a bit worried.

“That was…” She began to respond, trying to speak through the grin that was starting to hurt her cheeks. “So good. I’m offended.”

“Oh,” Jeongyeon blinked, then laughed nervously. “Really? I was afraid I messed up.”

Nayeon shook her head, still catching her breath. “I’ve never… felt like that before. That was good. Yeah.” She blushed and Jeongyeon blushed too – just two teenagers trying to figure this whole thing out.

Jeongyeon crawled up to her, nuzzling her neck. “If you say so.”

“Besides, I’m the one who accidentally kicked your chin.” Nayeon laughed, remembering a few moments ago when Jeongyeon suddenly bit her inner thigh, and although it was gentle, it still startled her. She had apologized a thousand times already, but still felt bad about it.

Jeongyeon laughed against her skin. “I told you, it’s fine.”

Nayeon just pouted, then brought her fingers gently to Jeongyeon’s face, turning it over and placing a kiss on the bruise. Jeongyeon’s heart did a somersault and she kissed her girlfriend’s cheek in return, hugging her again.

They giggled together, without a care in the world, just enjoying each other. Pillow talk was something new and exciting for both of them; Nayeon was never one to talk much about her own feelings, but with Jeongyeon the words just came naturally – she brought out the best in her.

Nayeon had no idea how the prettiest girl in school ended up falling for someone like herself, but she definitely wasn’t complaining. The fact that they’d just shared their first time together was mind blowing as well. The very recent, very sweet memories rushed through her head and she couldn’t help but feel dizzy as a result. Now that Nayeon thought about it, they were each other’s firsts for a lot of things; first real kiss, first relationship, and now they had taken each other’s extremely clumsy and extremely tender first time.

Warmth pierced her chest once more upon a realization, and Nayeon suppressed a shudder.

They were each other’s first love.

They were just teenagers who fell too hard, too fast, but things felt right with them. Being with Jeongyeon felt right.

She was sure Jeongyeon was mulling it over too. They completed each other.

“What are you thinking about?” Jeongyeon murmured, arm draped over Nayeon’s bare chest and eyes closed.

“You,” The answer was automatic. “Always you.”

“That is… so cheesy.”

“It’s the truth.” Nayeon turned her body so she could fully face her and Jeongyeon opened her eyes. Nayeon allowed herself a silent moment to gaze back at her.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi.”

Nayeon finally pushed forward, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. Jeongyeon sighed and brought one hand to the back of Nayeon’s head. Nayeon’s mouth parted, allowing the intoxicating taste of her girlfriend’s tongue to overwhelm her. Jeongyeon gripped her hair lightly as Nayeon nipped at her lips, the world outside forgotten. Right now, it was just the two of them.

When they finally pulled back, Nayeon’s eyes were glossed over. She was drunk on kissing, and felt like she was going to lose her mind.

“Jeongyeonnie.”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna get married?”

Jeongyeon kissed her nose. “One day.”

A pause.

“Oh, wait, married to you?”

Nayeon slapped her shoulder lightly and Jeongyeon giggled, pulling her closer. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just teasing.” Then she pressed kisses below her ear and down her neck. Nayeon sighed dreamily at the feeling.

“That’s something I’ve fantasized about, you know. Us, getting married.”

“Yeah?” Jeongyeon smiled against her skin.

“Would you want that? Someday?” Nayeon asked again, because she still hadn’t heard an answer.

Jeongyeon lifted her head up to meet her girlfriend’s vulnerable gaze. She stopped for a second, eyes returning passionate sincerity. “Seriously? Yes, I would.”

At that moment, this statement felt like the only thing Nayeon needed to hear for the rest of her life. She felt so compelled to say something back, so she opened her mouth, without even thinking.

“I love you.”

They had both said it at the same time, not quite in unison, and they laughed.

They were messy. But they were forever.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we all went to the same college?” Sana asked suddenly with her mouth full, eyeing the rest of the group around the table as they ate. There was a bit of a ketchup smear on her lip and Jihyo promptly reached out with a napkin, wiping it.

“You guys are gonna have to pick the college, then. We’ll have to follow.” Dahyun replied, her burger almost finished.

“Oh, right, the babies still have years left.” Jeongyeon teased.

“We’re only one year below you, grandma.” Chaeyoung replied, sticking her tongue out. “You still have a year of high school, too.”

“That’s true. Do any of you even know what career you want to follow?” Jeongyeon asked. Nayeon accidentally let her napkin fall on the floor and was about to grab it, but her girlfriend was faster. Nayeon mouthed a ‘thank you’ and kissed her cheek.

“Nothing related to numbers and equations, please,” Dahyun leaned her head in one hand, her typical exaggerated expression filled with despair. “I almost failed this year because of that.”

“We offered to help you,” Tzuyu casually remembered her, finishing her salad. “But you ignored us.”

“I didn’t ignore you!”

“Uh, yes, you did.” Chaeyoung stretched her arm across Tzuyu, asking for a sip of her juice, and the tall girl passed her the cup. “We were pestering you for a week, asking if you needed help, but you, and I quote, ‘needed to figure out the mysteries of the world on your own’.”

Sana laughed and choked on her Coke, and Momo tapped her back so the girl could breathe again; they wouldn’t put it past her to die in a diner choking on soda. Mina on her other side passed her the napkins, asking if she was okay. Eventually Sana managed to catch her breath, only to laugh more.

“I’m pretty sure none of us want to work with numbers,” Nayeon said amongst the chaos. “We are attending a specialized arts high school, after all.”

“Chaengie wants to be a painter,” Dahyun pointed. “If her doodles indicate anything.”

“Maybe,” Chaeyoung shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s not easy to make a career out of that.”

“I think you have lots of potential,” Mina comforted her with her tender voice. “You should really go for it.”

“You’d be a great artist!” Sana nodded encouragingly, and Chaeyoung blushed at the compliments. She averted her eyes when the table’s attention turned to her, agreeing in unison, and Tzuyu rubbed her back with a giggle.

“Momoring wants to be a dancer, right?” Nayeon nudged her shoulder.

“Something along those lines,” Momo munched on her fry lazily. “I know Mina is going to be a professional ballerina.”

Everyone just nodded, and Mina smiled shyly.

“It fits you like a glove.” Jeongyeon told her softly, earning a small blush from the girl.

“I hope I can make it,” Mina grabbed her water, thoughtfully. “It’s the only reason I even came to this city.”

“You’ll do great.” Sana and Momo said at the same time, then rolled their eyes at each other. Mina laughed at them warmly, happy for the vote of confidence.

“Sana-ya, what about you?” Dahyun asked.

“I’m thinking about dance, too. I mean, that’s why I’m at this school. Or I don’t know, something that helps people?”

“So many dancers in this group,” Jihyo grinned. “I’ll make sure to compose songs to all of you.”

“Alright, is anyone else jealous that Jihyo already knows exactly what she wants to do?” Dahyun raised her hand, and the whole table did the same, except for Jihyo. “Mina, put that hand down, you’re also on this list.”

“Nayeon is on this list too!” Jeongyeon pointed at her girlfriend, baffled. “You want to be an actress!”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll succeed,” Nayeon slapped her hand away. “Jihyo is already successful.”

“Oh, please,” Jihyo scoffed at her best friend. “You’re already a drama queen, you don’t need to pretend to doubt yourself.”

The whole table let out a ‘ooooooh’ and Nayeon nearly got up to strangle her friend. Jeongyeon restrained her, however, so Nayeon had to settle for throwing a dirty napkin across the table. Jihyo ducked with a yelp and then they all laughed loudly. Once they calmed down, the rest finished their lunches and finally ordered dessert.

“What about you, Tzuyu?” Jeongyeon asked, one arm around Nayeon as the girl let her head rest on her shoulder.

“I really like photography, but I don’t know… I want to work with fashion. There are lots of things I could try to do.”

“Have you ever thought about designing your own clothes?” Chaeyoung asked, genuinely curious. Not knowing much about her oldest friend’s career plans bothered her a bit.

“I’m not good at drawing, though. I like to read fashion magazines, I always thought that the photoshoots they do were beautiful.”

“A photographer for a magazine seems viable,” Jihyo suggested. “It’s a really hard job from what I know, so people pay photographers well.”

“If everything goes wrong you can always be a model,” Sana said, seriously. “You’re tall, and beautiful, well-proportioned…”

“Can someone call the waitress, we need all the napkins in the restaurant to dry Sana’s drool.” Momo grabbed her best friend’s shoulder, shaking her.

“What! Am I wrong? Look at Tzuyu,” Sana got up and grabbed Tzuyu’s shoulders, bending to her level. “She’s gorgeous and should be told so every day.” Then she faced her. “Tzuyu, you’re beautiful.”

“Um… thank you?”

“Yes, we get it, you can go now.” Chaeyoung mumbled, grabbing Sana’s coat and dragging her back to her seat. Sana placed a kiss on Tzuyu’s cheek and sat back down with a giggle.

“And Jeongyeon is going to be a nerd professionally.” Momo finished with a smirk.

“Excuse me?” Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, the ones who borrowed my Inuyasha DVDs were all of you.”

“I didn’t.” Jihyo defended herself.

“Yes, because you still needed to give me back my Doraemon ones.”

“That’s—” She had no arguments for that. “Fine.”

This earned another round of laughter across the table, then the desserts arrived – nine bowls of ice cream to the brim, overflowing with chocolate syrup and hazelnuts. Mina shared hers with Momo while Chaeyoung and Tzuyu did the same, but the rest ate all of it by themselves. After they were done, the group sighed contently with smiles on their faces.

“I’m going to miss this.” Sana said after a moment in a more serious tone.

“This what?” Momo asked.

“Hanging out with all of you on a daily basis.”

“You make it seem like we’ll vanish once we graduate.” Jihyo tried to cheer her up with an affectionate rub in her arm.

“Why are you worrying about this now?” Chaeyoung almost laughed. “You’re not even a senior yet. Enjoy your junior year while you can.”

“Aw, my cute little sophomores.” Sana reached out to pinch Chaeyoung’s cheeks and the tiny artist slapped her hand away lightly with a cute grunt.

Dahyun watched, worried about Sana’s sudden pessimistic view of what their future was going to be like. It was like she expected them to talk to each other a lot less, or not at all once they went to college, and Dahyun had to admit those thoughts had crossed her mind a few times. But she knew that their bond was too strong to be broken by something so silly.

Then she realized that Sana’s apprehension was probably because of what happened to her, Momo and Mina. The ballerina had left their town when she was 12 to move to the city and pursue her dream; that had probably been a terrible experience for Sana and Momo. They were finally reunited by their second year of high school, and that was why the three friends were absolutely glued to the hip.

Sana never talked much about the time they were separated, but Dahyun knew it had probably made them miserable. Mina was an introvert, and without doubts, her very first real friends came along as soon as Momo and Sana came back to her.

“We’ll be fine,” Dahyun spoke up suddenly, making Sana stop her teasing and turn to her. “We’re all here now. We’ll be fine.”

Sana’s eyes sparkled with something and she smiled. “…Yeah. Thank you, Dahyunnie.”

Then she noticed that everyone else was nodding and smiling at her as well. Sana had never felt more reassured in her life.

She loved those people so much.

Sana knocked on the bathroom stall lightly and waited for a response. When she was only answered with silence, she spoke gently. “Chaengie? Are you there?”

A beat followed, causing Sana to press her ear against the door. She heard a faint sniffle and her heart dropped. “Chaengie, I’m here. Let me help?” Sana turned her face and closed her eyes, touching her forehead to the door. “Please?”

After a few moments she heard the door unlock. When Sana walked in, Chaeyoung was sitting on the toilet with the seat down, head buried on her arms as she curled in on herself. Her shoulders trembled softly with each whimper and Sana locked the door again to give them some privacy.

She crouched until her face was leveled with that of her friend and gently stroked her hair, then rubbed her back. “Hey, baby. It’s okay, I’m here.”

Chaeyoung’s body continued to wrack with quiet sobs for a few minutes. Sana allowed her to let it all go, reassuring the girl with a gentle hand; she needed to make sure Chaeyoung didn’t feel alone. When she was done crying, Chaeyoung lifted her head, her eyes puffy and red.

“Hey,” Sana gave her that signature smile, the one that made people forget about their problems for a second. “Do you want to talk?”

“…No.” Chaeyoung mumbled, then took a deep breath. “Maybe. I don’t… I don’t know.”

“It’s alright. I’ll be here for you. We have the whole day.”

“We have to go back to class soon.”

“No, we don’t,” Sana tucked a strand of hair behind Chaeyoung’s ear. “I care more about your well-being. Class can wait.”

Chaeyoung sighed and rubbed her eyes; she knew that Sana was expecting her to say something. She already felt bad for taking up so much of her time—Sana would’ve scolded her for thinking that, too, she noted. “I just… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“It’s okay. Baby steps.”

Chaeyoung tried to think of a way to go about this, all the while beating herself up for being so dumb. Her anxiety was beginning to overwhelm her, so she bit her lip and forced the words out.

“I— I panicked. I think I… realized something. About myself. It’s dumb, this is dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” She responded. Sana had this air about her that made people feel validated; out of anyone, Chaeyoung was glad that it was Sana who had seen her run out of her classroom and chased after her. “It’s okay. What happened?”

Chaeyoung wanted to tell her, she wanted to tell everyone, because it was important – and really, she should’ve seen this coming considering her group of friends. Still, she didn’t want to say the words out loud, because saying it out loud made it real, and reality scared her a lot. She didn’t even have a reason to be this afraid, but society built walls between people, and certain ideas about right or wrong were hard to deconstruct.

“I think…” Chaeyoung started, working hard to make this palatable. “I’m— You know. Like… Jeong. Kind of, I don’t know. I might be.”

“Like Jeongyeon?” Sana frowned for a bit. “You mean, a nerd?”

This made Chaeyoung actually let out a breathy laugh. “No.”

“Hmm, then… an athlete?”

“Definitely not.”

“Oh, I know!” Sana snapped her fingers. “A kind, intelligent, beautiful girl, with a heart of gold and a terrible sense of humor, but who would go to the greatest lengths for the people she loves, and makes me proud every day.”

Chaeyoung snorted again, pushing Sana away and blushing. “Yah, really…”

Sana smiled softly, balancing herself and stared at her friend fondly. She put one hand on Chaeyoung’s knee as the other cupped her cheek. “Everything I just said is true. And liking girls, or boys, or both won’t ever change that. You know that, right?”

Chaeyoung looked down, eyes watery again, and just nodded.

“Is this what has been bothering you lately?” Sana asked and Chaeyoung blinked, a bit surprised. “You’ve been a little distant. I was worried.”

“Y-yeah… It’s not even a big deal. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.”

Sana grinned, knowingly. “Trust me, even if you think you’re the most open-minded person around, it’s always going to be startling.”

It occurred to Chaeyoung that Sana had been through this earlier than anyone else. She knew what she was talking about.

“You don’t have to tell anyone right away, okay?” Sana continued. “This is your special thing. So feel free to tell us when you’re ready. Alright?”

Chaeyoung nodded again with a sniffle, then finally met Sana’s eyes. “…Thank you.”

“Everything will be okay, Chaengie.” The way she said that made Chaeyoung believe that it was true. It was a like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders, and she didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Lunchtime was finally over, and Sana got up, stretching her back – it was getting hard to stay still in that tiny stall for so long. She paused with a whine. “Ouch, I think I heard something crack.”

“You’re getting old.” Chaeyoung teased a bit, a smile finally making it’s way back on her face. She got up from her seat and sighed again, regaining her composure. “It’s too cramped in here.”

Sana unlocked the door and patiently waited for Chaeyoung to wash her face until there were no traces left that she’d been crying.

“Do you want to stay here a bit longer?” Sana asked, gently.

“No, I’m okay now.” Chaeyoung shook her head. “Really. Thank you. I’m sorry for panicking over something so—”

“If you say dumb again, I’ll be forced to pinch your cheeks.”

“…Stupid?”

Sana jumped on her and almost reached her puffy cheeks, but Chaeyoung was faster. They played tag for a couple of seconds inside the bathroom, then Sana finally caught her, hugging the girl from behind. Chaeyoung laughed with her and felt incredibly lighter.

“…Sana.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t mean… that… this is a bad thing. You know that, right?” Chaeyoung was very aware of Sana’s own sexuality, and how proud the girl was of it. She never hid anything from them when it came to who she kissed and who she was interested in, so Chaeyoung was afraid of having offended her with her lack of confidence.

“Of course I do.” Sana’s weight against her back was comforting. “Don’t worry about others right now, Chaengie. What you feel is the most important. And if you need to talk to someone…”

“I’ll come to you.” Chaeyoung completed.

“Yes,” Sana let her go, then offered her a hand. “Now let’s go back.”

Chaeyoung took it, albeit reluctantly, and then smiled as the relief rushed through her. She was happy to have proof that she was comfortable with touching other girls in the face of her life-changing epiphany.

She allowed herself another smile.

Chaeyoung was glad to have Sana to guide her through this new world.

2 years ago

“Say… do you want to go to the movies tomorrow?” Jeongyeon tentatively asked as she rested on Nayeon’s bed, flipping through a random issue of The Justice League.

“Sure,” Nayeon replied, painting her nails, not really satisfied with the result. “I think Momo and Jihyo wanted to watch that new James Bond movie. I’ll call them.”

“Right…” There was an awkward pause, then Jeongyeon put her comic down. “I was actually thinking we could go just the two of us?”

“Oh,” Nayeon stopped and finally faced her girlfriend. “It’s been a while we’ve seen Jihyo, though… she asked me to call her next time we went out.”

“Well, alright then.” Jeongyeon nodded a little, then slowly returned to her position on the bed. Nayeon chewed on her lip, her heart beating fast all of a sudden. She waved her hand to dry her nails, the creeping silence a familiar presence as of late.

“Do you… want it to be just the two of us?” The question was clearly a cautious one. Very rarely did she have to be careful with her words around her girlfriend, but something about this conversation was alarming her.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Jeongyeon answered promptly. “I miss Momo and Jihyo too.”

“Oh, okay.”

The couple didn’t speak much after that, but both of them were aware of the tense atmosphere. Things haven’t been the same lately.

They were nearing their second-year anniversary, but it felt like some of the spark had been lost along the way. At first Nayeon thought that it was normal, – dating for two years in high school was quite an achievement – but as time went by, she wondered if there was something else going on. She didn’t like this suffocating ambience.

Nayeon sighed. “Jeong. Do we need to talk?”

Jeongyeon pretended to finish her page, heart beating nervously, then put down the comic again, sitting up straight. “…I think so.”

“So you feel it too.”

“Of course I do.” Jeongyeon ran her fingers through her short auburn hair. They’ve been together for too long, and noticing even the smallest shifts in the mood was natural to them at this point. Jeongyeon was just terrified of what that meant, because she knew that they would probably end up reaching the same conclusion. “Nayeonnie, when was the last time we hung out together, just the two of us?”

“…Right now?”

“Don’t do this,” They needed to talk this out, and Jeongyeon was going to push this forward. “Please?”

Jeongyeon patted the bed and Nayeon got up with a sigh, sitting down next to her and leaning her head on her shoulder. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t know how to start.

“What do you think is happening?” Jeongyeon asked in a low voice, her hand slowly rubbing circles on Nayeon’s thigh.

“I don’t know,” She answered, truthfully. “But it’s been happening for months.”

“Yeah…” Jeongyeon sighed, leaning her head against Nayeon’s.

“And it’s both of us. It’s like we just don’t want to go out together anymore, have a real date.”

“I do.”

“But do you?” Nayeon lifted her head, staring at Jeongyeon. “If I asked you out, then Momo, or Sana, or Dahyun, hell, anyone, suddenly asked to join. Would you say no?”

“I—” Jeongyeon stopped, licking her lips. “…No, I wouldn’t.”

“Me neither,” Nayeon blinked the water away from her eyes. “And that’s the problem.”

“That’s a weird problem.” Jeongyeon got up and started pacing, like she usually did when she became agitated. “So, what? We like hanging out with our friends. That shouldn’t… ruin our relationship.”

“That’s why this is a problem,” Nayeon got up as well, crossing her arms in a defensive posture. “It is ruining it. Why is that?”

“Fine, so we can’t manage our time right. That’s not something we should fret over.”

“Avoiding it won’t solve this, Jeongyeon.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?!” Without realizing it, Jeongyeon had raised her voice, causing Nayeon to flinch. Regret soured Jeongyeon’s face as she snapped out of her irritated state. She immediately made her way to her girlfriend’s side, hugging her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Nayeon sank into her arms, which were still familiar and warm. They made her feel safe, and she knew that they always would, regardless of what the future held. She closed her eyes and didn’t say anything for a moment, just trying to put her ideas together as she listened to Jeongyeon’s heartbeat.

That girl was the world to her. She had pictured marriage with her, but somewhere along the way, Nayeon realized that the amount of love she felt for Jeongyeon was the same she felt for all of her friends. Maybe it was the fact that she didn’t know whether they would all manage to get into the same college, but Nayeon and Jeongyeon knew that they would rather spend time with all nine of them than just go out on a date by themselves.

Nayeon had been getting closer to other people as well, sharing secrets that she didn’t even tell her own girlfriend. They weren’t big, important things, but she still felt her heart constrict when she realized that Momo understood her better in some ways than Jeongyeon did. Or when Jihyo gave her better advice, or Sana made her feel better with just a smile.

The intensity of those feelings scared her.

Jeongyeon was going through the same thing. She had get-togethers with Chaeyoung and Dahyun for RPG sessions, Momo was basically her closest friend at this point, and she looked after Mina and Tzuyu with fondness. That didn’t mean that she stopped loving her girlfriend, but she was afraid that their relationship wasn’t special anymore.

She wanted Nayeon to feel special every day of her life, and the fact that she couldn’t provide this anymore caused guilt to tear through her heart.

“…We’re going to college soon.” Nayeon murmured after a while.

Jeongyeon hummed.

“We’re so young. Too young to be certain of things.”

Jeongyeon nodded against her hair.

“But there’s one thing that I’m certain of,” Nayeon detached herself from Jeongyeon’s arms. “I love you. And I always will.”

The words dripped were bittersweet on her tongue.

“I love you, too.” Jeongyeon replied. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t,” Nayeon’s smile was sad. “That’s why we’re talking about this. Because we share the same feelings.” She touched Jeongyeon’s chest softly. “And if being together, just the two of us, started feeling like an obligation, then… maybe we should give ourselves some time.”

Somehow, she knew that this was coming. “Like a break?”

“Something like that.” Nayeon’s gaze told her that they didn’t need to put a name to it. Jeongyeon stared at her with red eyes from holding back tears that shouldn’t fall; this was a consensual agreement between them that was bound to happen with how things have been going lately.

“Some time to grow up,” Jeongyeon concluded, after a few seconds. “And enjoy things as they come.”

“Sounds good.” Nayeon’s smile was soft and beautiful, and Jeongyeon knew that it didn’t really matter what happened from now on, Im Nayeon would always have a special place in her heart.

“Alright.” Jeongyeon blushed a little. “One last kiss?”

Nayeon pushed forward without words, and it felt like sealing their fates.

‘This won’t be a last kiss.’ It was a thought that occurred to both of them.

“I love you.” They whispered at the same time, like they usually did, then giggled against each other’s mouths.

Time would tell.

Snow fell slowly, blurring the street lights and making it hard for the students to get out of their cars and walk the slippery path to the school’s dance hall. The night was extremely cold, but the bodies moving inside the place created a heated environment, so nothing could possibly ruin the celebration.

The last dance of the year for all seniors was the most anticipated event of the school year. It was the last hurrah of their high school lives as they entered a new phase. Of course, some students were more excited about the free food and hidden booze than what the future held, but it’s not like those reasons weren’t valid too.

The most flamboyant students, however, were only worried about one thing: the nominations for the Queen and King of Drama. The titles were exactly like prom queen and king, but with its own little twist, as this was an arts high school.

“Did Nayeon get her crown yet?” Momo walked up to Jeongyeon, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Not yet. They need to make a big deal out of every event.” Jeongyeon replied with an amused voice, then turned to look at her friend. “That’s a nice dress.”

“Thanks. Mina’s mom bought one for each one of us.” Momo smiled. “Sana and Mina should be arriving soon.”

“And where is your date?”

“Uh,” Momo stopped chewing and looked around. “Oh no, I lost Tzuyu!”

She was about to run off when Jeongyeon grabbed her arm. “Chill, she’ll find you eventually. Stay here.”

“Oh,” Momo recognized that voice tone. “You’re nervous. Why?”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Right. And I’m not hungry.”

“Your sarcasm hurts me,” Jeongyeon rolled her eyes, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She was wearing a gorgeous black lace dress that really accentuated her hips and legs. The black heels gave her a very sophisticated and feminine look, and she was sure she’d been the gay awakening of half of the school’s female population. “Nayeon asked me to stay here so she could find me after the announcement and I don’t want to be alone.”

“Hmm,” Momo just hummed, biting another piece of her food. “If you say so. How are the two of you, by the way?”

“We’re good.”

“Are you still pretending to be on a break, or…”

“We’re not pretending,” Jeongyeon elbowed her slightly. “We’re not even on a break, really. I think we just… broke up for good. That doesn’t mean we’re not friends anymore.”

“You see, when you say ‘I think’ at the beginning of a sentence that ends with ‘we broke up’, it’s a bad sign.” Momo was the first person Nayeon and Jeongyeon told about the end of their relationship, and she still hadn’t bought it. Mainly because she was the closest to them aside from Jihyo, so she was still convinced that those two were a thing, albeit unknowingly.

“We still love each other, we know that much. It’s not like those two years are gonna vanish, you know?” Jeongyeon had seemed vulnerable ever since then, but she was much better than the first couple of weeks. Momo was glad to see her recovering so well, even if she thought that the fact that they broke up in the first place was weird as hell.

“Yeah… I know.” She finished her sandwich. “Feelings and all that jazz.”

They smiled at each other, then Tzuyu finally found her fake date. Momo apologized a thousand times for not paying attention when she moved to grab her food, then promised to make it up. When Tzuyu asked how, Momo just smiled dumbly and said she’d think of something.

“Am I late?” Jihyo found them after that, a little breathless, like she’d just ran the last couple of meters there. “Did Nayeon get the crown?”

“I love how sure we all are that she’ll be crowned Drama Queen.” Momo chuckled.

“Of course she will. Who else?” Jihyo laughed with her.

“They’re still monologuing,” Jeongyeon told her, with her arms crossed. “This will take a while.”

“I should call Mina and Sana.” Momo grabbed her phone from her purse, but Tzuyu stopped her.

“Chaengie sent me a message earlier, they should be here soon.”

Not a minute later, Mina and Chaeyoung walked in, arms locked and looking for their friends. Momo tiptoed and waved, and Mina smiled at her, guiding the tiny artist to their general direction.

“Sorry we’re late,” Mina apologized. “Traffic.”

“My house is way too far from this damn place.” Chaeyoung groaned, finally letting Mina’s arm go. “Thank you for inviting me, by the way.”

“My pleasure. Thank you for agreeing to be my date.” Mina giggled in return, with a fancy ballerina bow. They all laughed at that, and the warmth of the atmosphere melted the cold weather.

“You’re looking great, Minari.” Jeongyeon grinned at her direction, casually. She was always beautiful, but tonight her simple white dress caught Jeongyeon’s attention and she felt the need to tell her.

“T-thank you. You too.” Mina averted her eyes a bit, but smiled nonetheless. Momo eyed the two and then excused herself to grab some drinks, asking Mina if she wanted something. Tzuyu complimented Chaeyoung’s outfit too and the girl blushed, complimenting her back with a small push on her shoulder.

Jihyo pulled Jeongyeon away from the ruckus for a moment. “Did you come with Nayeon as your date?”

“Nah, we thought it’d be better to come separately.”

“I see.” Jihyo patted her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Why do all of you think I’m having a hard time?” Jeongyeon rolled her eyes for the tenth time that night. “Nayeon and I are fine. We’re not even awkward around each other, you know that.”

“Well, it’s just that it hasn’t been that long. Three months or so?”

Jeongyeon shrugged. “We’re fine. Can we talk about something else?”

“Alright. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You could never.” Jeongyeon just smiled to her, a bit guiltily, then turned her attention back to the stage. “Oh, they’re finally announcing it!”

The others stopped their chatter to pay attention.

“Where is Sana?” Chaeyoung asked, sad that she would miss the coronation.

“Momo is missing too.” Mina looked for her, but eventually had to give up. One of the teachers on the stage grabbed the microphone, clearing his throat.

“Well, without further ado, let’s get to the main event, shall we?” A voice boomed over the crowd. The hall burst into cheers and applauses. “This year’s Drama Queen, voted by the majority of the senior year, is… drumroll, please.”

The students started slapping their thighs and the loud sound echoed around the room. Tzuyu covered Chaeyoung’s ears with a laugh, knowing that her friend didn’t enjoy loud noises.

“…Miss Im Nayeon! Congratulations!”

Everyone screamed, and Jihyo and Jeongyeon jumped up and down, waving and yelling at their friend. Nayeon brought one hand to her mouth, teary-eyed, and bowed as she walked to the middle of the stage and accepted her crown. The professor tapped her shoulder slightly with a proud, fatherly smile, and gave her the microphone so she could say a few words.

Momo arrived then, with drinks in hands and a smile on her face. She passed the cup to Mina and wrapped an arm around her best friend’s shoulders as they watched Nayeon’s special moment.

“Oh, wow… I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Nayeon started, hands shaking, and a huge grin plastered on her face. “I’d like to thank everyone who voted for me, really, I had no idea of the impact I had on this school. It makes me really proud to be a student, and I couldn’t be happier. I’m glad that I got to share it with all of you.”

Jeongyeon smiled proudly at her ex-girlfriend. She knew that other students hardly ever took the speeches seriously, but Nayeon was genuine about this. Her dream was to become an actress, and this small gesture was a step forward in the right direction, even if it was a silly school dance.

“And to all the teachers and friends I made in the last four years, this one is for you. I’m going forward with a dream in mind, and I’ll always remember how important this school was to my career. Thank you all!”

Laughter and cheers echoed across the room after the cheesy statement, and she gave the microphone back, moving down the stage.

“She was born for this.” Jihyo said with a glint in her eyes; she really was happy for Nayeon. Jeongyeon just nodded in agreement.

“We didn’t miss it!” Sana’s sudden voice made everyone turn to her, surprised. She was dragging Dahyun by her hand and had snow all over her hair. “We caught the end of her speech!”

“Where were you?” Momo asked, reaching out to take some leaves off her messy hair.

“Dahyunnie was having a hard time picking her dress.” Sana brought her date forward.

“In my defense, I knew what I was going to wear, but then Sana showed up at my house in this,” Dahyun pointed to Sana, accusingly. “So I had to pick something that wouldn’t make me look like a grade-schooler next to her.”

Sana’s dress length was dangerously short, and whenever she moved, it was like the whole galaxy sparkled – the lights reflected the small jewels there, creating a starry sky on Sana’s outfit. That was by far the most mature look of that entire party.

“Your dress was cute.” Sana pouted.

“Yes. My point exactly.”

“Didn’t you say Mina’s mom picked your dresses…?” Jeongyeon whispered to Momo.

“She did.” Was all Momo replied, with a smirk. The athlete opened her mouth, but decided that she didn’t want to ask.

The announcement of Drama King was happening in the background, but it sounded muffled against the chatter. A few moments later, the DJ resumed the song, and the party finally continued.

“I’m hungry,” Sana stared at the table filled with snacks and sandwiches in the back. “Dahyunnie, let’s get some food.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The younger girl replied with a teasing tone, but allowed Sana’s hand to interlock fingers with hers. They moved to the table as Chaeyoung watched, shaking her head a little.

The lively beat made Jeongyeon move her head and torso a bit, joined by Momo on her side, who was definitely in a mood to show how good of a dancer she was. She winked in Jeongyeon’s direction, flowing a lot better with the song than her, stepping right and left as she body-rolled.

“Show off!” Jeongyeon yelled over the loud music and Momo just shrugged, letting her body move on its own, freely. Her eyes were closed, and she felt the beat invading her every pore, widening her smile – that was definitely her environment.

The rest of the group moved a lot less, a bit shyly, but with happy hearts. It dawned on them that this was the last time that they would all be together like this in school, dancing and joking with each other, so the whole situation was a tad bittersweet.

Momo pulled Tzuyu to the middle of the dance circle at some point, and the younger girl almost choked on her potato chip. “Come dance with me, you’re my date!”

“I don’t dance!” Tzuyu fought the pull with every fiber of her being and Momo eventually let her go, sticking her tongue out.

The group laughed, enjoying the silly argument, then the song shifted from lively to slow. It was that awkward time of the party where couples had to dance with each other, and Momo tried once again getting Tzuyu’s attention. Chaeyoung laughed at the whole scene, because it felt like Tzuyu was about to kick Momo’s insistent ass out of this world.

Jeongyeon joined the fun, then felt someone poking her shoulder. She turned around and came face to face with Nayeon wearing a shiny crown, and her heart skipped beat.

“Her Majesty demands the first slow dance.” Nayeon said simply, with one hand waiting to be held, impatiently. Jeongyeon’s face broke in a familiar smile and she rolled her eyes, taking her hand despite everything. The two left the circle of friends and moved to the dance floor, Jeongyeon holding Nayeon’s waist as the Drama Queen locked her hands behind the girl’s neck.

Momo didn’t miss the scene and immediately looked at Mina. As she expected, the girl looked disheartened all of a sudden, taking a sip of her water. Momo then sauntered over in a silly way and offered Mina her hand.

“May I have this dance?” Momo asked with a gentle smile, and Mina returned the expression, promptly accepting the invitation. The two also walked past their friends to move to the dance floor and Chaeyoung couldn’t help but to tease as she took the drink from Mina’s hand.

“You’re stealing my date, Hirai!”

“Feel free to steal mine.” Momo replied with a wink and Chaeyoung shut her mouth.

The two best friends locked hands behind each other’s necks in a way that they’ve done before. Mina had always felt safe in Momo’s embrace. “Thank you, Momoring.”

“You’re welcome.” She whispered back, guiding their steps. Mina’s heart didn’t feel as heavy now.

Dahyun waited for Sana to finish grabbing some appetizers as she tapped her foot to the slow beat, watching as the dance floor filled with awkward couples that stood way too far from each other. Just a few people were actually into the whole romantic atmosphere, and Dahyun’s eyes caught four of her friends dancing together. She let out a small surprised sound, but grinned afterwards. She kind of expected Jeongyeon and Nayeon to dance at some point in this party, but Mina and Momo was a nice surprise.

“Wanna dance?” Sana’s voice startled her and Dahyun jumped.

“Jesus, don’t scared me like that!” The hand on her chest made her whole body language even funnier and Sana giggled.

“I’m sorry,” She bit her lip. “I mean it, though. Do you?”

“Um… with you?” Dahyun blinked, then realized that this question was probably dumb.

“Yes, with me, silly.” Sana’s smile was always such a nice sight, and Dahyun felt compelled to take the offer, but something about going out there with Minatozaki Sana made her legs feel like jelly.

Sana asking Dahyun to be her date had already been shocking enough as it was – she was sure that there were thousands of people crawling at Sana’s feet, begging her to be their partner for the night. But Sana had rejected all of them, making a beeline for Dahyun instead.

Dahyun knew the reason for that, however. Three seniors from their group had to invite the juniors as their dates for them to be able to attend the party, and Sana was probably stuck with Dahyun. It’s not like she resented her for that, but she was now asking her to dance, and that’s what she couldn’t wrap her mind about.

“I’m not really a dancer…” Dahyun tried, averting her eyes. “I thought you were hungry. Did you eat?”

“I ate enough to not be hungry anymore,” Sana looked down at Dahyun’s hands, and shifted a bit. That’s when Dahyun noticed that Sana wasn’t just clumsily stepping side to side – she was nervous about asking her to dance. “You really don’t want to?”

Her voice was so fragile and tiny, so unlike Sana, that Dahyun felt her chest compressing with a feeling that she couldn’t comprehend. So, she took a deep breath, very aware of the eyes on them, and grabbed Sana’s hand gently.

“Okay. We can dance for a bit.” Dahyun said, and the grin on Sana’s face at that moment was worth every judgmental gaze.

“Let’s go!” Sana was back to her bubbly, excited self, and Dahyun felt relieved.

“I said for a bit!” She was sure Sana ignored that part.

But Dahyun didn’t really care. She just wanted to put a smile on Sana’s face, all the time.

Jihyo was asked by many people, but rejected them all. She’d rather watch over her friends and make sure they were all okay, so she leaned her back on the wall with a tiny grin. Her eyes moved from Jeongyeon and Nayeon, who seemed to be lost in each other’s gaze, to Mina and Momo, who were having a lot of fun now hopping around in a silly way. Sana and Dahyun joined the dance floor after a bit and Jihyo’s grin widened. Then she searched for Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, only to realize that the two were just chatting beside her, with no intention of exposing themselves like the rest.

“Not in the mood to dance?” Jihyo asked the younger girls.

“I would, but Momo stole my date.” Chaeyoung replied, eating a bag of popcorn.

“You should’ve asked Mina earlier, then.”

Chaeyoung just laughed. “I guess.” Then she frowned. “Why aren’t you dancing? I saw all of those guys lining up to talk to you.”

“Did you really expect me to say yes to a guy? Besides, I’m fine right here.” Jihyo shrugged. She added after a while, with a wistful gaze. “This is nice.”

“What is?” Tzuyu asked.

“Just us, having fun like this. I think I understand what Sana meant when she said she’d miss this. It feels like an ending, for some reason.”

“You’re just going to college. We’ll be a year apart, but we plan to follow you, you know.” Chaeyoung mentioned, to Jihyo’s surprise.

“Wait, really?”

“We’ve been talking,” Tzuyu followed up. “The three of us want to try and get into the same college as you. I hope we manage.”

Jihyo widened her eyes and tackled both girls in a hug, jumping up and down with happiness. “This is the best news ever! Oh, you’ll do great, I know you will!”

Chaeyoung and Tzuyu hugged her back, but had to tap her back after a while. “Suffocating, suffocating!”

Jihyo let them go, but not without a kiss to both their cheeks. When all of them were together, that was the only time things felt right.

She wanted to treasure that friendship.

The song finally ended, and the energetic music returned to the speakers. The students finally gathered back on the dance floor, some a little drunk, but most just happy to be graduating.

Mina detached herself from Momo, but then was pulled into a hug by the girl. “You should tell her, soon.” Momo whispered in her ear.

Mina just sighed. “I know. I wish I had the courage to.”

“You’ll find the courage.” Momo pulled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And she’d be stupid not to fall for you, too.”

Mina giggled, then shook her head slightly. “I think she still has feelings for Nayeon.”

“Give it time. Their break up is too recent. Jeong will move on eventually.”

“You’re right,” She was thankful for Momo’s support. It made her feel like her hopeless crush was a little less hopeless. “I’ll tell her, one day.”

Momo smiled and took Mina’s hand, kissing her knuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll punch her gut if she rejects you.”

“Behave.” Mina rolled her eyes, but was glad at the thoughtfulness.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon took a while to stop dancing like fools in love, but eventually they had to part. Jeongyeon poked her nose with a dumb grin, laughing when Nayeon whined. “I knew you’d get this crown. We all did.”

“Of course you did, it’s me.”

“I’d say that this attitude would get you in trouble one day, but for an actress, I guess it’s really important to have a huge ego.”

“Thank you, I’ll take the compliment.”

Jeongyeon laughed harder, and Nayeon had to follow suit. She was really holding back from kissing the girl, and it just became harder when her laughter rang on her ears, familiar and soothing. Sometimes she wondered if they’d made a mistake by breaking up, but a glance at the group of friends waiting for them behind Jeongyeon made her remember why exactly they did it.

“Jihyo is calling for us.” Nayeon grabbed Jeongyeon’s hand, dragging her along.

“Nabongs.” Jeongyeon called her before they reached them.

“Yes?”

“You look beautiful.”

Nayeon stopped on her tracks, turned around to face her, and sighed, dreamily. “You too, Jeongyeonnie.” Then she tiptoed a little to place a kiss on her cheek. Jeongyeon blushed at the gesture, and they exchanged a knowing look. It was hard, but they knew that this was better for both of them.

“Come on, you two!” Jihyo yelled again, and they finally started walking again.

“What is it?” Nayeon asked, a tad breathless.

“Let’s go outside, all of us,” Jihyo announced, already walking in front of the group. They all eyed each other, but didn’t question it, following her.

Once the nine of them were outside, Jihyo grabbed her phone, holding it high above her head. “Here, the lighting is good.”

“What are we doing?” Sana asked, wrapping Mina in a hug with Momo. The three of them were shivering at the cold weather, and there was still snow falling on their heads. Tzuyu was the only one who’d brought a coat, and Chaeyoung was tucked inside of it as the taller girl hugged her from behind. Jeongyeon and Nayeon were glued to each other as well, and Dahyun held Jihyo’s frame.

“Taking a selfie,” Jihyo explained. “I want to remember tonight. I’ll print this later and give a copy to each one of us.”

Despite the cold, they all grinned at the idea; it was such a Jihyo thing to suggest that they felt their hearts melting.

“Now say cheese, my arm is freezing to death.” Jihyo smiled forcibly and made a V sign with her fingers, and the others did the same, without moving much from their spot. She took about five consecutive pictures and finally put her arm down. “Got it! Let’s go back inside.”

And they should’ve seen it coming when the three best friends tried to walk back all stuck together like that, but they didn’t. Sana stepped on something that was very much not supposed to be in the middle of the snowy street, and slammed onto the ground wrist-first.

“Ouch!” She yelled, clutching at her arm. The shock of pain was so startling that it was making her dizzy.

“Oh, goodness,” Jihyo crouched immediately to check on her. “Oh, this doesn’t look good.”

“What happened?” Jeongyeon asked, and it didn’t take long for all of them to gather around Sana’s whimpering frame.

“I think Sana broke her wrist.” Jihyo said in a hurry. “Let’s take her back inside, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Who the fuck dropped a fucking ice cream cone in the middle of the street? It’s Winter.” Chaeyoung kicked the thing that had made her friend fall, extremely angry. Tzuyu just tried to calm her down as all of them guided Sana back inside, with Momo and Mina checking her every step.

Once they were inside, Sana finally processed what had happened, and gradually started to smile until she broke into a fit of laughter. The group stared at her, afraid that she was mentally collapsing from the pain or something, but she just shook her head.

“That was the dumbest way of getting a broken wrist, what the hell!” Sana tried to explain, but she was laughing too hard. Slowly, one by one, the other eight girls joined her, the joyful chaos ringing out around them.

This night wasn’t exactly what it was supposed to be, but at least they were together, and when Sana thought about it, somehow it made her newly broken wrist hurt a little less.

They were a mess. But at least, they looked after each other.

Sana wondered what college would bring.

#twice #mimo #2yeon #jeongmi #namo #chaeyu #saida #my fic

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cutegirlmayra · 7 years

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Hello Mayra, :-) I hope you're having a good day and don't tire yourself out. I was hoping to request a prompt about Amy thinking Sonic is tired of the way she looks so she tries out new clothes and a new hairstyle. When Sonic sees her he's speechless but also upset because he wouldn't want Amy to change herself just to make him like her because he likes her no matter what she looks like. I know you're mostly sticking to In Character so you can change anything about this prompt. Thank you!

(x) Used with Artists permission! Please support her as well!

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I am trying to have a good day, and rest up. So thank you, my friend ^///^

With the ‘in-character’ thing. I do try very hard to stay in character, but I also understand if character’s have to react to AU scenarios not normally happened upon, that they’re going to change their reactions. I use my best guess, or simply try my best. I’m not perfect, but I do my research and hope it’s close enough :) I really like this idea, so I hope you enjoy it!

Prompt:

After Amy began wondering why all her magazine ‘20 ways to catch a wild man’s heart!’ wasn’t working, she tossed the whole thing and seemed pretty bummed out.

But that quickly changed when she saw a commercial of a cute girl trying to impress her crush with different fashion wear…

“It’s up to YOU to decide what he likes!”

She kept flipping through outfits, “Intelligent? Sassy? Untamed? Shy or modest! It’s this brand of design for you!” They ended the commercial, as Amy rose her eyebrow and stood up, looking her look over.

Darting to a mirror, she hesitated a moment before pulling her quills back, and seeing what that looked like from the side.

“…Intelligent?”

She then ruffled her quills, spiking them up and then positioning them off to the sides of her shoulders.

“…Sassy.. untamed?”

She then smiled… slowly… before pulling her hair up and striking a pose.

“Shy~” she cutely put her free hand to her muzzle, hiding some of her smirk.

“Modest~” Amy let her hair fall again and then spread her arms down and out, before looking over her clothes.

She pouted, “This won’t do!” she zipped her head to look towards her room and bolted.

Several days later…

Sonic raced through the city, people excitedly pointed up to the buildings he scaled or leaped like an arch-streaked of blue over with praising and excited faces.

He was about to get through the busy streets below, side-walking a building before spotting out of the corner of his eye…

He didn’t believe it at first..

He spun down and held a blank expression, looking at Amy who was sitting quite peacefully at a table, reading something.

He furrowed his brow.

For the past few years… she had never changed her look.

Now…

She wore her hair back, fashionable square glasses, bracelets and a baggy shirt.

Hipster?

He shook his head before wondering if this was even Amy.

Her mascara she usually wore?

Gone.

Her red, open back dress?

Done away with it.

The change was uncomfortable for Sonic, as he just stood there blinking before looking as though he saw a ghost.

Amy leaned her head up over the book, before smiling widely to him.

“Ah! Sonic The Hedgehog! Fastest thing alive. How do you do.” she held her glasses a moment and tipped her head.

He frowned, looking unsure of her actions. “…Fine.” he stated, before walking more over to her and leaning over the table, trying to muster a smile.

“But I can’t say the same for you. You look-”

“-Intelligent?!” she beamed, leaning up and keeping her hands pressed down on her book.

“…Umm….” he looked behind her to see in the reflection of the cafe her tail wildly beating.

He smiled to the side of his face, lifting a curious eyebrow up once he saw a glimmer of her true self returning.

“Heh. More like messy.” he put a finger under his nose, winking…

He wanted to test this out.

“Is this some new trend you’re going for, Amy?”

She pouted with a puff of air in one cheek, and swished her head away before delicately taking her seat again.

“I’m reading Shakespeare.” she countered. “A very sophisticated and elegant thing to do.”

“Shakespeare, huh?” he leaned down and took a cracker from her plate, making her twitch at his rudeness before he nibbled on it, looking down at the book.

“Is it a love story?” he questioned.

Amy’s whole being slumped, “Wha… What is that suppose to mean!?” her anger got the better of her, but she was more surprised than anything. “Shakespeare! Romeo and Juliet? Much Ado About Nothing? Taming of the Shrew!???” she pushed the book repetitively up at his face.

Humorous tears burst from her eyes suddenly, as she laughed. “You can’t be serious! He’s one of the best play-writers in the world!” she gripped her stomach as Sonic smiled, pretending to be annoyed at her acquisition, but glad she was back to her normal self.

“Beats me. I only read legends and myths.” he looked away, before scarfing his cracker down fully then and licking his fingers and lips, seeing Eggman attacking a few streets down. “Gotta go.” he reeled himself off and took speedily off for adventure!

As usual.

“Alright.” she took her hair down, tossing it around a moment before removing the glasses. “That’s a no-go on intelligent.”

Another few days later…

Sonic paused to eat at Amy’s place, before knocking on her door and seeing her come out with a start.

“Pfft! Could you knock any louder? Honestly, Sonic… and they call me desperate.”

He saw her lean against the door,… eye-shadow? Magenta in tone, maybe, and some quills straightened out to be in front of her face. A crop-top with a tight pink skirt that looked like shorts.

He made a sour-expression, before looking back up to her eyes.

“….Hi.” he spoke brassly, before about to turn around.

“H-hey!” she broke her act and quickly reached out to him, holding his arm as he looked back, seeming annoyed.

“..You… don’t go.” her eyes bent, almost a plea. “I-I was just playing sassy…”

Seeing her return to her former self, he smiled, and lost all frustration.

“Ah, there you are.” he turned back and walked inside, starting to figure out what was going on.

“U-um… do you not like.. um..” she pulled her shirt from the bottom out a moment, nervous about showing so much skin, before looking away and blushing, and then holding a pointer finger up for a moment.

“Excuse me… one second!” she darted so fast into her room that he thought it almost cute, and tilted his head with a closed-eye grin.

He then looked around the room… She was already preparing for dinner.

Perfect! He chimed with a step towards the table.

She came back out, her hair redone and makeup changed, which only made him tap on the table and look bored again.

“This same thing..?” he mumbled beneath his breath.

NOW she was wearing a leather jacket, some odd name-brand logos and her hair spiked up on the sides.

She was chewing on a straw and wore black, sleek pants.

What was this? Greece Lightning?

He rolled his eyes.

“Ready for the usual?” she tried to act ‘appealing’… but she could barely move in the get-up and ended up having her pants and heels squeak across the floor till she got to the kitchen.

He pffted, before laughing silently to himself as she twitched an eyebrow in embarrassment and annoyance.

“S-shut up! I’m doing this for-!..Emm..” she kept her mouth closed, but still enraged at him laughing at her attempts before bringing the tray over.

‘Think… untamed…’ she looked up a moment, an innocent expression as Sonic yawned, and ticked her off.

She slammed the tray down, letting the food fly where it would on the table.

Sonic didn’t flinch. Having a leg up on the seat and his hand turned to hold his head up, he just opened an eye and looked back up at her.

“Take your pick. Make your own plate.” she lifted a hand up, trying to shrug it off like she wasn’t responsible and then gave him an edgy glare. “What are you staring at? Food’s gonna get cold.”

He seemed to be looking down, twitching…

She sweat dropped… was he mad at her?

“S-Sonic..?” She stepped back a moment, her Quills starting to fade downward…

“I-I didn’t mean to come off that way! I-I was trying to be untamed.. uhh..” she waved her hands out, but then saw him break into laughter.

He banged a hand on the table, before she pouted and walked off.

“Hold on…”

He continued to profusely laugh as loudly as he could, before about to eat as he wiped his eyes but Amy screamed back.

“WAIT FOR ME!”

He drooped his eyes and dropped the food, folding his arms and leaning back, upset she’d make him wait…

She suddenly came in with another get-up, this one cuter as she wore a summer dress and something more modest.

“I.. Umm…” she wore her quills up again, but more neatly done, and seemed to be tryin’ to pull off another look and character.

He frowned deeply again, putting his arms behind his head and waiting for her to sit.

“I-I hope you like it…” she scooted into her seat, and then covered her face. “O-Oh! But it’s okay if you don’t!”

He rolled his eyes again, “You know I always do.” he leaned up and started eating.

She flinched at how he was passively dismissing her random actions and grew upset again.

‘Is he just toying with me!?’

She took a breath and tried again, holding a piece of food up and cupping her hand under it.

“Ahh..?” she tried for modest, offering to feed him as he gave her a dead-pan look.

She twitched her smile, before shoving the food in his mouth and angrily getting up.

He scrunched up his face, chewing quickly and swallowing before glaring up at her about to leave.

“Going to change again?”

She paused in her stride, and he got up, seeing her grip the wall as she was at her last straw…. wit’s end… heart already tested enough as it was.

“I’m not gonna be insulted by-!”

“You insulted?” Sonic turned his head behind his shoulder, folding his arms. “I came here to eat with my friend. Not meet a bunch of different girls like blind-dates.” he spat his tongue out, a little silly, towards another direction before speaking to her with both their backs facing each other.

“I don’t know why you think you have to change yourself, Amy…”

She suddenly rose her head up, perking up to that new shift in character from him…

“..But it’s ruining my meal.” he suddenly took some more food and moved to the door.

“Tell me when Amy gets back.” he popped some food in and opened the door.

“….Sonic…” Amy turned her slightly tearing up, ashamed face back towards him.

He paused, before turning back to her.

“Hmm?” he seemed ready to scold her again, but she untied her hair, and turned to smile at him.

“You like ‘Plain old’ me… don’t you?” she seemed really touched by it, and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Plain?” he smirked, and turned back around to her, closing the door by leaning back on it till it clicked.

“Amy, you’re never a dull moment.”

She felt her heart melting.

“And you’re never old hat.” he winked.

She immediately skipped off, and made him blink in puzzlement.

He wondered if he said something wrong… but knew he hadn’t.

He sat back down, chillaxing and waiting to eat, trying to be polite as he itched his nose, before seeing her walk back in.

Same old red dress.

His eyes lit up.

Same old mascara.

His grin curled.

Same old, sweet smile.

He nodded.

“Now that’s a look.” he tossed her some food and she caught it.

“Ohh.. don’t play with your food. Do you like it?” she grumbled a minute at first, before sitting down and looking excited to eat with him.

He winked, “Same old Amy.”

“If you like it, you should marry me and I’ll feed you every day!” she spread her arms out.

He still held his smile.. but leaned back in awkwardness for a moment.

“Heh..heh… still better than Sassy.”

“Oh, you kinda liked Sassy. Admit it.” she put some food on her plate.

“I’d like all those girls better if you were wearing them.” he chomped some food up and she sat, staring at him.

It wasn’t the outfits he didn’t like…

It was simply her not being in them.. that he didn’t approve of.

Author’s notes:

I’ve decided to make this section a ‘read more’ for those who are simply in it for story. ^^

This was fun! I admit, I didn’t know how to make it more unique than my other ‘Amy changes things up to appeal more to Sonic’ prompts, but I’m glad I did! I wanted her to try out different looks and be rejected in them, leading to the main theme coming along… but at the last minute, I had Sonic say probably the most profound thing that randomly hit me as I wrote.

It was like something clicked, maybe the character really did speak out to me, I don’t know XD haha, sounds weird. But I felt he would have been fine with whatever she wore, as long as she was still there.

Because her personality changed, not her clothes! I thought that was super touching and clever, and I literally did it ‘last second’ which makes me feel it was just meant to be written ^^

Surprises come to writers like that, haha! But I was really happy to see that all those personalities truly ‘bugged’ or at least ‘annoyed’ him. He liked how Amy was. She was sweet, thoughtful, and sometimes got upset. But that what’s he likes! haha, it amuses him. So I think Sonic would be uncomfortable with Amy changing herself :)

He’s already so used to her now! Why change anything? teehee! >//w//n

P.s: Instead of some science book which would be more ‘Tails’s style’ I hooked Amy up with Shakespeare. It’s cultured, still something smart, but more Amy’s cup-of-tea. Just in case Sonic would ask something smart of her, she had something to deliver! haha.

#sonamy #sonamy prompt #sonic prompt #cutegirlmayra #sonicxamy #sonic #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog

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justalittlebluetiefling · 7 years

Text

Chapter 43: Sometimes I Can’t See Myself

Rating: T Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellamy x Clarke Chapter: 43/68 Word Count: 1774 Words

Chapter Summary: The one where Clake isn’t happy with her art history TA.

Also on AO3; Start from the beginning on AO3

It was still unclear how her alarm didn’t get set, but most of the seats were full by the time Clarke made it to class. She found a seat as close to the front as possible and set up her stuff. Some students always gave her weird looks on the first day of any class. Most of the people she knew used laptops for note taking, but she preferred to write things out. She also needed somewhere to sketch while she waited for the class to start.

A stack of papers landed directly on top of her notebook, forcing her to mess up on the bunny she was drawing. She scoffed and glanced up at the TA, who was apparently an asshole, and gasped loudly.

Bellamy put on a stern face. “Take one and pass it down please.”

Clarke didn’t have time to formulate a response before he smirked and continued down the line. Usually, syllabus days were Clarke’s favorite. An entire overview of the course material, a layout of all the assignments, the schedule of all the quizzes and tests? Structure was… calming. But today, all she could do was watch him doing whatever the hell his job was as the TA. It didn’t help that he kept catching her eye with some fake innocuous expression that might fool anyone else, but she could read him like a fucking book. Like the world’s most obnoxious fucking book.

He had laughed at her when he saw ‘From Athena to Lady Gaga: Art in the Modern Imagination’ on her schedule. She had tried to counter by listing everything in the class description.

“The Lascaux caves, Bellamy.” “Lady Gaga, Clarke.” “Raphael. Michelangelo. The Baroque movement. The neo-classicist movement.” “Lady Gaga.” He smirked. “Monet. Picasso. Jackson Pollock.” “Lady Gaga’s in the fucking name, Princess. How am I supposed to take a class seriously when Lady Gaga’s in the name? What does she have to do with art history?” “Oh, come on. Have you seen her outfits? Have you read anything about her?” “You refuse to listen to her music. You refused to go to that concert with O last year.” Clarke shrugged. “I’m not a fan of surrealism and her outfits are a little much for me. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the fact that it’s technically art and some people may enjoy it.”

The professor started to discuss the assignment list, snapping Clarke back to reality. She refused to look at Bellamy’s stupid grin. But that was when it finally dawned on Clarke. Two short five-page papers, a midterm, one longer ten-page paper, and then a final… and Bellamy fucking Blake would be grading all of them.

There were fifteen minutes left when the professor said, “That’s about it for the day. My TA, Bellamy Blake, has the list of groups for discussions and peer edits. Stop by and get your group info before you leave.” There was an hour before her next class, so Clarke let most of the class rush to line up at the front before her under the guise of packing up her stuff. She ended up behind a pair of girls who wouldn’t stop giggling about the “hot TA”. One even pulled her shirt down a little before she leaned over the desk to look at the list. To his credit, Bellamy only glanced at her before looking up at Clarke. She stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag, smiling when he had to choke back a laugh.

She smirked at him when she finally reached the desk. He plastered a grin on his face. “Name?”

“Clarke Griffin,” she said, struggling to hold in a smile.

Bellamy ran his finger along the list and put his chin in his other hand. “Hmmm, I’m not seeing any royalty on this list.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and pulled the list away from him, leaning in. “Lady Gaga, huh?” She barely exhaled the question.

“I’ve heard she’s a fantastic artist,” he muttered.

“You saw this class on my schedule.”

He nodded and murmured assent with a serious look, as though they were talking about assignments or attendance or anything else.

“You knew.”

He nodded again.

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” She looked up from the paper she was writing her group information on to see a stupid grin on his face again.

The person behind her chose that moment to clear their throat loudly and she realized it probably looked like they were flirting. Bellamy was already starting to glare at them when Clarke turned around to glare herself. She absentmindedly hoped that the guy wasn’t in her group as she turned back to Bellamy and tried to sound as cheerful as possible. “Thanks. See you Wednesday.”

The science building was on the other side of campus. Clarke dug her phone out of her purse to check it as she made her way through the masses.

Monty 10:10am Calc isn’t the same without you. Jasper’s been moping the whole class. Why did you decide to take Stats instead?

Wells 10:16am Did you wake up on time? I told you that hiding behind that bench waiting for Miller to come by was a bad idea. He wasn’t even that scared.

Octavia 10:21am Important question. How many classes do you think I can skip and still pass? Like, you still have all your old psych notes right?

Bell 10:27am Surprise, Princess!

Clarke stopped walking so she could angrily type out a reply to the last one. It wasn’t even entirely clear to her why she was suddenly so mad at him, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

Clarke 11:51am How in the hell did you land a TA gig for an art history class?

She stared at her phone for a few minutes, waiting for a response, until someone bumped her as they walked by. She was about to yell, but realized she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Frustrated, still for no real reason which was even more frustrating, she shoved her phone back into her purse and finished her walk to the science building. Once she found an empty bench nearby, she sat and took her phone back out.

Bell 12:01pm Your Roman art history class last quarter really piqued my interest. My grad advisor hooked me up.

Clarke 12:06pm You didn’t even tell me you were going to be a TA for any class. You told me you were thinking about it. Not that it was a real thing that was happening.

Oh. That’s why she was mad. She’d looked into being an undergrad TA, but opted not to in the long run. It was pretty demanding just as an undergrad. It would be twice as much work for a grad student.

Bell 12:07pm You’re not going to lose your hookup at the café. I’ll still be there on the weekends.

Clarke You’re not going to have time to hang out anymore. Isn’t that basically a job? When am I even going to see you?

Bellamy didn’t respond. He was ruining syllabus day for her and he didn’t even bother to respond. Clarke stared at her phone for a solid five minutes before she grabbed her things and found her class. Thankfully, there were no surprises during her physics class, but she had another hour to kill before statistics. The math building was right by the science building so she found a place to sit again and pulled out her phone. It was still blank.

She was halfway through typing out a moderately scathing text when a floating iced coffee drink covered in whipped cream appeared in front of her. Well, it wasn’t floating. It was attached to a hand that was attached to an annoyed looking Bellamy. She glared before reluctantly accepting it. He just had to pick that moment to remind her that he knew her coffee order in any weather. A white paper bag landed in her lap as he sat next to her, too. There was a turkey sandwich inside.

“Bribery isn’t going to work, Blake.”

“Come on. I know you’ve got some time to kill. I also know that you weren’t going to eat lunch and that you probably skipped breakfast.” She scoffed and took a bite of her sandwich. He nudged her knee with his and smiled at her. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I did not want to get up this morning. Miller was still super pissed, by the way.”

Clarke snorted and took another bite. Miller’s face was priceless. It was what he deserved, telling them his routine. Campus security guards were supposed to be more random with their routes and they agreed that he needed some encouragement.

They ate in silence for a few minutes and it gave Clarke a little time to calm down. When she was done with the first half of her sandwich, she folded her hands in her lap and looked over at him. He was happily chewing a bite and lost in people watching, so it took him a moment to realize she was watching him.

“Don’t be a creep, Princess,” he said after he swallowed.

Clarke frowned. “Sorry for getting freaked out. You know I—”

“You don’t like surprises on syllabus day. I know.” He put his sandwich down in his lap and shrugged. “I thought I’d be a nice surprise.”

“Oh, come on.” Clarke elbowed him gently. “Of course you’re a nice surprise. If I have to be surprised, I’d rather it be you.” He smiled at her and she frowned. “You’re going to be so busy, though. You’re not going to have time for the little people.”

“You know you’re never going to be little people. Come on.” He slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his side. “Plus, you’ll see me every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for at least an hour and a half. I’m like a built-in lunch date this quarter.”

“And you’re a creepy stalker who remembered that I have a break between my classes on Monday and Friday.”

“And an even longer break on Wednesdays, because you don’t have Physics.” Clarke laughed out loud and set her head on his shoulder. He squeezed her one more time before pulling away. “I’ll be busier this year, sure, but you’re my… one of my best friends. Plus, you live with my sister. You’re never getting rid of me.”

Clarke looked down at her lap, trying to hide her smile. Bellamy Blake was probably the best surprise she’d ever had in her life.

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #modern au #sometimes i can't see myself #my work #erin writes

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iamartemisday · 7 years

Text

Artsy- Steve/Jane

For @janeyfoster

Happy Belated Birthday! :D

The very first weekend of Jane's very first year of college, she had nothing to do. She'd thought she would. Getting all her pre-reqs out of the way meant she had five pages of math problems, two chapters with critical thinking questions for intro to physics, three chapters of European history, and a whooping ten chapters of Jane Eyre to get through by Monday. Two days of work on paper didn't seem like it could translate to seven hours in practice, but by Saturday morning, Jane's books were stored in her backpack and she had forty eight hours of free time to kill. Sometimes, even she forgot what an overachiever she was.

After getting breakfast she returned to her dorm room and fished a book out of her travel bag. On the advice of an older friend, she'd packed light on the books. 'The workload will eat up ninety percent of your free time and for the other ten percent you'll be unconscious,' she'd said, because clearly, she was not an overachiever.

Two chapters in, the front door opened and in walked Jane's roommate. Darcy Lewis, on first impression, was everything Jane had never wanted in a roommate. She was loud, she left dirty socks on the floor, she ate chips at three in the morning, and that was nothing compared to the friends she brought over. Over time, though, Darcy had proven to be intelligent, studious when she wanted to be, and an excellent listener.

"Jane, what the hell are you doing in this room reading a book when it's Saturday?"

Oh, and she was nosy. That too.

"If I hadn't done all my homework, I'd be spending Saturday in the library if that helps," Jane said.

"You finished all your homework?" Darcy's eyes popped out. "How?"

"Diligence, concentration, and a lot of coffee." Jane marked her place and set the book aside. She moved to the side of her bed. "Did you do any of yours?"

Darcy bit her lip. "Um… ask me again tomorrow night. Anyway, if you've got nothing else to do, you should come with me."

"I already told you, Darce, I don't drink."

"No, not that," Darcy shook her head. "I went to the club last night. I'm talking about the big art show the seniors are putting on. Didn't you hear about it?"

She might've seen a flyer with the words 'Art Show' on the dormitory bulletin board while writing down the date and time the science club met. It was either that or 'Art Film Showing'. Neither would've held her attention for more than a second. She said as much, earning a scoff and an eye roll.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she whined. "It's not just pretentious modern art if that's what you're thinking. There'll be paintings and sculptures and even some performance art. Ever wanted to see a woman paint a mural using her body as the brush?"

"More than anything in the world," said Jane, picking up her book. It was immediately snatched from her hands and thrown across the room behind her computer desk.

"Please?" Darcy pouted. "We'll get to meet some hot seniors. Maybe even get some numbers."

"Seniors don't date freshman," said Jane.

"Yeah, in high school. This is college! There are students who date their professors!"

Jane raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not saying they should do that, but they do," Darcy dropped all her body weight onto Jane, hugging her tight and giving her enormous, shiny, wobbly puppy eyes. "Pleeeeeeeeease?"

If she wasn't a grown woman, it would be highly effective. Jane would've cracked a lot sooner than she did.

"Okay, fine!" she shouted, shoving Darcy out of her lap. "I'll go to the art show with you."

"Yay!" Darcy rushed to Jane's closet and ripped out half her wardrobe, tossing it to the floor. "Let's find you something sexy and get a move on!"

'I wonder if it's too late to request a new dorm room,' Jane thought.

After an hour of Darcy denouncing Jane's fashion sense and Jane vehemently defending it, they settled on a compromise. Jane would wear ass hugging skinny jeans and strappy high heeled sandals, as per Darcy's suggestion. She would also were a long sleeved shirt with her favorite plaid jacket. Jane was surprised Darcy agreed to that part until they arrived at the art center across campus.

"May I take your coats, ladies?" asked the guy at the check in counter as they were signing in.

Jane shrugged out of her jacket and adjusted the top of her shirt. It was a sleek black and looked decent on her. Not that she put much weight in Darcy's idea of picking up guys, but she was feeling good about herself and that was the most important thing in the end. As they walked down a hallway lined with paintings, Darcy somehow had commentary for every single one.

"I think that one represents the pain of moving forward in life," she said, squinting her eyes at one particular piece. "See the way the shading changes the colors? That soft shade of yellow is like a sunset. Like the sun setting on a life full of passion and regret."

"Darcy," Jane stared at her. "That's a painting of a banana."

The banana sat on a brown table, unpeeled with nothing around it except the artist's name scribbled in the corner like an afterthought.

"Jane, please," Darcy hissed at her. "I'm trying to be artsy here."

They moved further into the exhibit, at a pace slow enough to be measured in negative numbers. Jane had long since spotted Darcy writing in a blue notebook as she sung the praises of another circle with a dotted line in the center. That explained what they were doing here. Darcy color coded all her subjects and extracurricular activities in a marginally successful bid at being organized. Blue was for Official campus blog posts. By the time they got to the sculpture hall, an hour had gone by and Jane's stomach was growling. The welcome sign had promised free refreshments. So far, Jane hadn't seen so much as a water fountain.

"So am I just here to keep you company while you gather blogging material?" Jane asked loudly over the applause from a group gushing over a pair of glasses on a podium.

"No, you're here because we're friends and friends do stuff together," Darcy said, flipping to a clean page. "Also I needed an outsider's perspective. As a non-artist, how do you feel about My Light in Springtime Orange by Ms. Amanda O'Connell?"

Darcy directed Jane to a sculpture of either a swan stretching its wings in preparation for flight or a person doing a demi-plie. There were no facial features and no colors, making the name a misnomer. She tilted her head to the side and the shape didn't change. "It looks like a really big clump of play-doh some kid tried to make a person out of."

"Do you mean that in a good way?" Darcy asked hopefully. When Jane didn't stop frowning, she sighed and moved on to the next piece. "Okay, how about this one?"

It was a sphere on a stick. Literally. That was the entire sculpture. A stick reaching as high as her shoulder with a globe sized ball balanced on the point. How it stayed in place piqued the curiosity of the mathematician in her up until she realized it was probably held together with a powerful adhesive. It might fall over anyway if she gave it a good poke. She smiled at the thought, but backed away. A joke wasn't worth getting sued for property damage.

"That's got to be the biggest lollipop I've ever seen," she said, grinning. "What flavor do you think it is?"

For once in her life, Darcy was not in a joking mood. She grumbled and groused as she moved down the line faster than Jane cared to follow. This blog post must've been super important. The next sculpture wasn't much better than the last. If nothing else, it looked like someone had put actual effort into it. A figure resembling a man of average height embraced a second figure resembling a woman. Neither had hair, but the curvature of the bodies was clearly defined and she could even see fingers on the hands of the man. He held the woman around her waist, keeping her flush against him. His head was slightly bowed with downcast eyes. On closer inspection, his facial features were a tad lopsided, but at least they were present.

"First Time," Jane read from the placard, "by Steve Rogers. Huh…"

"What do you think?"

Jane turned to the source of the voice to find a tall, broad shouldered man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a perfectly chiseled face. In fact, he fit the 'All American classic good looks' standard to the point where he might as well have been copy pasted out of a movie and into the real world. He had his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face. That he wasn't looking down his nose at her like the other art students she'd met tonight scored him points without a single word spoken.

"Um…" Jane took a second, closer look at the sculpture. It was exactly the same as the first time. "I guess it's nice… it's cute how they're hugging."

His smile broke. "Dancing, you mean."

"Are they dancing?" Jane squinted her eyes, as if that would magically turn what was obviously a hug from behind into the Tango. "Looks more like they're just standing there."

"Well, it is a sculpture."

"Yeah, but if the artist was going for dancing, I think maybe it should look more like a dance," Jane said, tripping over her words once or twice. She had only the faintest idea of what she was saying. For all she knew this could be a brilliant work of art on par with the Statue of David. What the hell did she know? "I don't know what 'First Time' means either. First time dancing? First time sculpting more like it, right?"

She laughed to defuse the tension, but as she watched the man's face change from bemusement to genuine hurt, a terrible thought sliced through Jane's heart and stabbed at her brain. She stepped away from the man instinctively, now picturing him pressing dust coated hands into marble (wait, was that statue marble or something else?)

"Wait uh… are you…" Jane pointed at the statue, then back at him. She repeated the action a few more times as he smiled apologetically. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I… I like it a lot more than the sculptures. I really do. It looks like you put a lot into it."

Steve chuckled. "Thanks, but you weren't wrong. This was my first try at sculpting. I'm more of a painter and a sketch artist, but I wanted to branch out."

"I'm really sorry," Jane said again. "Don't even worry about my opinion. I'm so art illiterate I thought Michelangelo was just a Ninja Turtle all the way through high school. My word means absolutely nothing."

"I don't think so," said Steve, glancing back at his work and giving it a onceover. "It really does look like they're hugging, doesn't it?"

"It's still better than the world's biggest lollipop over there," Jane muttered, not expecting him to hear her. Except he seemed to have crazy sensitive ears.

"That would be a statement on the hypocritical nature of a society that preaches individualism while simultaneously encouraging strict conformity to social norms," he recited. "At least that's what Phil told me."

"It just makes me want a lollipop," Jane said, and as soon as the words got out, her stomach whined. "Or anything at all. I shouldn't have skipped lunch…"

"The cafe is around the corner," Steve pointed at the far end of the room, which did not have a sign reading 'cafe this way anywhere.' As if they wanted people to be confused and not know where to go. Maybe that was a statement on the confusion of early adult life in the modern age. "I'd be happy to buy you a cup of coffee. Artists get fifty percent discounts on all cafe items."

That was pretty bold for having just met, not that Jane was complaining. Past the almost artificial beauty he possessed there was something impossibly adorable about this guy. She'd almost completely forgotten he was a senior and well out of her league no matter what Darcy said.

"I'd like that," she said, before her common sense kicked in and demanded she slink away like a proper awkward science nerd. "Maybe you could show me your other artwork or explain to me all the deep social commentary in that one banana painting."

"Or you could explain it to me," he suggested, "because I swear it's just a banana on a table…"

"I know, right?"

They wandered off to the cafe, enjoying coffee and sandwiches and laughing about some of the more bizarre forms of abstract art on display. Once Jane swore up and down that she'd never repeat his comments to anyone (solidarity with fellow artists or something), he'd riffed a piece that was just a deflated football painted purple and a painting of a dot on an otherwise empty canvas.

"You know," he said near ten o'clock when the cafe was about to close, "you have a hell of an expressive face."

And there was the oddest compliment Jane had ever received in her life. "Thank you?"

Steve played with a plastic fork. "I was wondering if you'd let me draw you?"

Jane blinked and said nothing, which seemed to be the wrong answer.

"Just a quick sketch, and you can have it when I'm done if you want," he added hastily. "You've got one of those faces… have you ever thought about modeling for a life drawing class?"

"Isn't that where they draw naked people?" Jane asked, aghast.

"Not always," Steve replied. He pulled his sketchbook out of his bag. He'd taken it out once already to let Jane flip through it, and for all that she knew nothing of art, his drawings were objectively amazing. She'd stand by that as a scientific fact. He took out a few pencils and ignored the cashier shouting for everyone to make their final purchases before they closed in ten minutes. "Turn your head to the side."

Jane complied, choosing to forget that she'd never accepted his request. "Like this?"

"Not so far." He pulled her head forward an inch with one finger. He had warm, strong hands. "That's right. Lower your chin a little… and balance your head on your hand… that's perfect. Keep it like that for about five minutes."

Five minutes didn't sound like enough time to do a proper sketch of a person, even just from the chest up. She wasn't the artist here, though, so Jane kept silent and did as she was told. After two or three minutes, the novelty was wearing off and Jane's arm began to ache. Staying in a position like this could only be comfortable for so long and the clock was ticking. She almost flinched once and prayed Steve hadn't noticed. From the angle, all she could see was the side of his face and it was buried in that sketchbook. His hand moved fast across the page but stayed focused in the center.

"Done," he said a hundred years later. That was how Jane felt before checking the time on her phone.

"Six minutes," she said, presenting the screen to him. "You're not as good as you think."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" He held up the sketchbook.

Only one person had ever drawn Jane before. The boy who crushed on her in first grade drew her as an astronaut on the moon and gave it to her for Valentine's Day. That would always be one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her, but once again, Steve Rogers had proven himself a top contender for sweetest guy she'd ever known. Her face rendered on the page was like a two dimensional mirror. The lines of her face, the shading on her neck, even her fingers were flawless. Not that she thought she was some great beauty, but if she didn't know that was her own face, she'd believe he believed it.

"Wow," she said, taking it from him and holding it to the light. "That's… wow."

"You're welcome," said Steve. "Do you want it?"

In response, Jane placed the sketchbook flat on the table and picked up a pencil. She checked one more time that no inner voice of reason was currently active and then wrote her full name and number in the corner before passing it back to him.

"Let's do this again sometime," she said, pushing her chair out. "But I'm not modeling for you naked." 'Yet.'

Steve wore the biggest, happiest grin in the world as he walked Jane back to the lobby where Darcy and a few more artists were waiting. They were grouped together next to the coat check, one girl talking at length about her piece while Darcy wrote furiously.

"So I was trying to capture the pain of moving forward into an uncertain adulthood with the shades of the banana…"

"That is so deep," another artist whispered in awe.

Jane stifled her laughter as Steve helped her into her coat. "See you soon," she said as casually as she could with her heart pounding.

"Definitely," he said, making her blood pump even harder.

By the time he disappeared into the crowd, Darcy had defused herself from the group and linked an arm through Jane's, leading her to the doors. "I have so much material for my blog I think I'll make two posts. I just wish I could've met some of the sculptors."

Jane smiled to herself, warmth spreading from her shoulders where Steve's knuckles had brushed her. If only she'd been wearing a sleeveless top. Lord knows how more intimate contact between them would feel. "Yeah, they're pretty awesome."

#Steve Rogers #Jane Foster #StevexJane #birthday #fanfic

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rinassance · 7 years

Text

THE MATH CLUB||bts [kim taehyung] by trbltae

CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II | CHAPTER III

"Oh look its that girl from our school guys" said thle light brown haired boy. I stood in my kitchen, dumbfounded at what i was witnessing in front of me. I looked over at Yoongi so he can explain but he just had a confused look on his face.

"Wait you guys know her already?" asked Yoongi furrowing his brows and scratching the back of his neck, confused. I felt all of the boy's eyes on me.

"Yeah, she's in our school" said the dark browned haired boy, who I remembered as Jimin.

"No shit sherlock, I know she's in our school," exclaimed Yoongi while rolling his eyes. "But how do you guys know who she is? I've never introduced you guys to her" Yoongi looked over at me wanting an explanation.

"Um, well would you look at the time! We should really go. Dont wanna be late haha" I laughed awkwardly, trying to rush out of my house as fast as I could. I didn't want Yoongi to interrogate me on how I knew them. If he knew we had class together he would make us socialize and the last thing I want to do is be friends with them. I dont mean to sound rude when I say that but they're just not my cup of tea, based on the way they act in class.

"No, not so fast" said Yoongi while grabbing ahold of my bookbag. 'Shit he got me' I thought to myself as he was dragging me back to where the group of boys were. I looked at all of them analyzing each and every one of the boys who were currently sitting in my kitchen. There was Jimin, the dark-brown haired boy from my math class who always asked for the answers. Then I recognized the tall boy from yesterday who Jimin called Namjoon. He was smiling at me which caused his dimples to show.

My eyes then followed to the next person who was Hoseok, the genius in our class. He had recently dyed his hair a very light blonde color which suited him well.

The person sitting next to him was a new face to me. His eyes were peering at me, analyzing my face as I was doing to his. He stopped looking at me to ruffle his brown hair once he realized the awkward atmosphere.

Then the last person of the bunch was none other than Kim Taehyung. The other boy in my math class. The cocky one who always flirted with anything that had two legs on it. As I was looking at him he tilted his head which caused his light brown hair to move, while he gave me a smirk. I got lost in his brown eyed gaze. He had the type of eyes that could pull you in and hypnotize you. I wasn't going to deny it but he was handsome. They were all handsome, in fact. I realized I was staring too long at him and was waiting for one of Taehyung's snarky comments but before he could open his mouth Yoongi had spoke up.

"Okay so is anyone gonna speak up or are we just gonna look at each other like we're at an art exhibit?" I turned to Yoongi finally to tell him once again that we should just leave but was interrupted by the unfamiliar boy. "What are you talking about? I am art. Hoseok take a picture" demanded Jimin while posing for the picture Hoseok was supposed to snap of him. Hoseok just rolled his eyes at the boy standing in front of him and muttered "Jiminie pabo" to himself while walking away. Jimin was awkwardly left standing there as he stood up straight while fixing his blazer.

"But hyung, you should be the one to introduce us- well at least introduce me since I've never met her." said the young boy innocently to Yoongi. He looked younger than the rest of the boys and his eyes were big and innocent. As I was trying to read the name that was etched on his name tag, he was playing with it nervously as he waited for Yoongi to say something. I couldn't read it well enough to make out a proper name.

"Lets just go, we can talk about all of this in school." sighed Yoongi loudly, walking out my front door. One by one the boys started to follow him out. I stayed behind so I can be the last one out to lock the door when suddenly, I was left with Taehyung and the younger boy. Taehyung made his way towards me. I tried to avoid him but he cornered me, causing me to tense up out of nervousness. 'Why are you getting nervous, you idiot' I said in my head trying to get a hold of my self. My heart rate increased every time he inched closer towards me. He leaned right next to my ear and brushed my hair behind it.

"I know I'm handsome but next time try not to stare at me for so long, babe" his deep voice echoed in my mind. He dragged out the last word and with a smirk on his face, backed away to follow the other boys out the house. I was left standing there, dumbfounded at what just happened. "I swear I hate him so much. I hope he-" I stopped myself as I realized I wasn't alone.

"Uh, um I'm Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. I dunno what happened back there uh-" he took a pause to read my name tag, "-Taeyeon, but I'm-uhhh just..gonna...go" stuttered Jungkook as he followed the other boys out the door as well. I groaned out loud, frustrated with myself at what just happened. I grabbed my keys from the key rack and proceeded to lock the door behind me, to catch up with the group of boys. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Jeon Jungkookieee~~I missed youuu" sang out Jimin to the brown haired boy. He put his arm around the boy's shoulders as he started conversing with him.

Right next to them were Namjoon and Hoseok discussing about what they were learning in their classes the day before.

Then there was Taehyung trailing behind the four boys. He had his headphones in listening to music, lost in his own world. I noticed he would occasionally be looking around, taking in the scenery around him.

We all had decided to walk to the bus stop instead of just walking all the way to school. As we were walking to the bus stop Yoongi turned to me and offered one of his headphones.

"Listen to this song, I think you would like it" he said while turning his head away from me. I took the headphone from him and put it in my ear. As the song played I kept enjoying it more and more.

Yoongi and I both had a passion for music. That was another reason why him and I started getting along. We would always come over to each other's houses and listen to new cds we bought or that our parents had.

Yoongi had always liked rap and wrote some himself. He would always ask me what I thought about his rap and how he could improve. I, on the other hand, liked to dance and sing. I liked both equally as they both just came naturally to me. Both of us always dreamed about going to an arts school and pursuing what we loved to do.

That changed when we got into the school we're in now. Its the opposite of an arts school. It just focused on academics like math and science. I got so caught up on my school work that I just didn't have time to sing or dance anymore.

Our school didn't have any arts clubs either. There was no music club, dance club or glee club, so on and so fourth. That was a reason why I never had interest to join any clubs.

I always dreamed about being roommates with Yoongi and Eunwoo while being majored in music, when I was younger. But now that I look forward, that seems like an unlikely possibility. I mean, why would an arts school want to accept me when all I have to show them is how well I can solve math equations.

I had realized I was zoning out when the song finished playing. Yoongi looked at me to get my opinion.

"That was pretty dope," I said while giving him an 'ok' sign with my fingers. "Where did you find out about this artist?" I asked, curiously. He took his headphone, putting it back in his right ear.

"It actually wasn't me, it was him" he said smiling wide and pointing to the the boy who was walking in front of us. "He actually showed me a bunch of new artist who's music is actually pretty good" said Yoongi while shrugging.

"Taehyung?" I asked, confused more than ever at this point. I wouldn't have expected him to actually appreciate music. He seemed like the type to not care about anything and just listen to the artists that are on the top charts every week.

"Yeah, you should talk to him about music suggestions. Im sure you could give him some as well" Yoongi was still smiling while picking a new song to listen to.

Maybe there's a possibility him and I could get along. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I kept taking small glances at Taehyung and he still had his headphones in, still not paying attention to anyone other than the scenery. He then took out his phone and started taking pictures.

I tilted my head, confused by his actions. 'Cute' I said in my head, to myself.

I mentally face palmed after thinking that. He was just taking pictures of the outside, why would I find that cute?

I looked away before he caught me staring at him again. I didn't want a repeat of what happened last time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We had made it to school just on time to not get marked late. The bus ride seemed to take forever to get to our school. It also didn't help that I had to sit in a bus with a group of boys I wasn't familiar with.

It was now lunch time and I made my way to the outside area. This was my daily routine but the only difference was Eunwoo wasn't here. I always had lunch with her outside. As I was walking around finding a good spot to sit in, my eyes caught a familiar face.

It was the boy I had met earlier who introduced himself to me as Jungkook. He caught my eyes and smiled at me. I couldn't tell whether it was fake or genuine but after he smiled at me he motioned for me to come sit with him.

He was sitting by himself, reading a book. I made my way over to his table with my water bottle and snack in hand.

"Hey Taeyeon" the young boy said showing his toothy smile. He seemed like a nice person so I decided to get to know him.

"Hi Jungkook" I said smiling back. I looked down at the book he was reading, Demian. "You're reading Demian? Its a really good book, nice choice" I said nodding my head in approval.

"Oh, this book isnt mine. Its Taehyung's, he was actually the one who suggested it to me." he exclaimed, smiling again.

"Yah, Jungkook why are you lying? That isn't mine" the deep voice said snickering behind me. Speak of the devil.

"But, hyung you-" the young boy was cut off by the deep voice again.

"You know it was Namjoon who gave it to you, not me" this time the voice started to laugh harder, "What makes you think I even read? Pabo" Taehyung stopped laughing and looked at the confused boy in front of him. Taehyung gave him a stern look, one that I could tell almost scared Jungkook. They stared at each other for a while until the boy spoke up again.

"Ohhh riiiiighttttt. Namjoon gave it to me. Psh silly me always mixing things up. Im just gonna go and reevaluate my life bye." he muttered the last sentence quickly and got up as fast as he could to leave. I was left with Taehyung again, but alone this time.

"How come you haven't introduced yourself to me yet?" I heard the deep voice behind me. I turned around in my seat and look at him straight in the face.

"Because I don't know you or want to know you" I said harshly. I don't know why I said what I said. I didn't want to be mean, I just got fed up with him making Jungkook leave.

Before I could leave he stopped me by grabbing my wrist. He dragged me closer towards the school building.

"But I want to know you" he said in a serious tone. He turned me around to face him and opened his mouth to tell me something else. I looked up at him and stared into his eyes.

He looked down at me and smiled wide, when I suddenly heard loud noises coming from behind me.

Abruptly, out of nowhere I was soaked in water.

What the fuck.....

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