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bangtan-madi · 4 years

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All Of Our Lifetimes — Five: Requiem

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 5 / 15

Warnings — language

A/N — Taglist is open! Comment, message, or ask and I’ll add you to the roster :) (Also I’m a freakin’ moron and forgot to post on Wednesday night like usual, which was yesterday. So enjoy this late chapter lol!)

Previous — Next

The first person you text is Namjoon. To you, he was the obvious choice. Friendly, open, and the first of the members to accept you into their enclave. It wasn't anything in particular, just saying hi and reminding him of who you are and that you were looking forward to tomorrow.

Not two minutes later, he replies and invites you to join a group chat he'd just created for you and all seven members.

"This way, we can all keep in touch!" he says. "DMs are fine, of course, but if we all wanna get to know each other, group chats can be a lot of fun."

He wasn't wrong. The remainder of Sunday evening is spent texting the members. On the way home, while you cook a quick dinner, and when you're relaxing before bed. They're flooding your messages with all kinds of hilarity. Jungkook and Hoseok are a fan of memes, while Yoongi seems to prefer the straightforward communication that gifs provide. Jimin and Namjoon adore emojis, and Jin sticks to his usual bad dad jokes. Taehyung replies to a question every now and then, but for the most part, he's absent from the conversation.

"You're awfully quiet, Taehyung-ssi," Jimin teases half-way through a conversation on whether or not mint ice cream is edible.

"I'm working, but you guys are blowing up my phone so it's hard to concentrate."

A sigh slips out as you reply, "You can put your phone on vibrate, Taehyung. Really, we won't mind. Or at least I certainly won't."

His response is speedy. "Okay. I'll talk to you all tomorrow."

Namjoon sends you a private message. "Don't let him bother you. He can get like this when he's focused. He doesn't do well with things distracting him."

"Yeah...you're probably right."

"Oh, I definitely am!"

"Hey, thank you again for everything. Except for Kim Taehyung, I really feel at ease with everyone. I feel like we're going to get along great at the set tomorrow."

"My pleasure, [Y/n]. I really wanted to avoid you feeling like more of an outsider than you probably already do. Being in a new country, even if you speak the language, can be scary. I've been to enough of them to know that there's no place like home...but maybe we can make it a bit easier."

A smile spreads across your face at his genuine spirit and pure kindness. "You have, big time! Each of you is really fun to be around. Honestly? I can't wait for 'Run' tomorrow! Can I ask where we're going? I didn't see a production report yet, and Director Hyeon hasn't responded to my email."

"We'll probably knock out a few episodes in one night, and I think we're closing down the Seoul Museum of Art. They're going to close a bit early so we can have it to ourselves. The games we have planned will happen there!"

You turn your eyes away from your cell phone at the mention of the museum. Recalling what happened over the weekend, returning to that place doesn't seem like a terrific idea. But then again, if you are there with Taehyung, maybe the two of you can finally talk about what you see in your dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, you can get those answers.

Your resolve strengthens a little bit, and a new message comes through, one not from the group chat or Namjoon. You click out of your conversation with the leader and check the notification.

"Who are you?"

The question is blunt and straightforward, coming from the second-youngest member via a private chat. You open the message, and your fingers hover above the keyboard for a few moments.

"Hi Taehyung. What do you mean?"

"I know we've met before. I can't remember where."

You bite your lip at his statement. So you were right; he does have some sort of familiarity with you, too. Now, to figure out just how much.

"Have you been to a concert before? Or a fan-sign? Maybe you worked on the set of Hwarang?"

"None of those. I actually didn't listen to much of your music before recently, and I've never been to a concert or fan-sign. And I've never worked on any set before."

"You weren't a fan of BTS? Even though you applied to Big Hit?"

"Nope. Actually, my roommate Milo was the Bangtan superfan. I heard of you guys through her, and then of Big Hit. I applied because I wanted to live in Seoul. It's been my dream all my life. Big Hit just happened to have the job I wanted in the ideal location. Call it fate, I guess."

A half-truth, but it will have to do for now.

"I know. I remember. Your gut feeling."

You pause, your fingers halting mid-type. How did he already know about that? You hadn't mentioned it in either the group chat or in the earlier conversation. In fact, the only person you'd mentioned the gut feeling about Seoul to was—

"I have to go, sorry. I'll see you at the museum tomorrow. I think you know the way."

The museum looks almost spooky after the sun begins to set over the buildings that touch the sky. Downtown Seoul is as beautiful as ever as the bright oranges and pastel pinks bathe the exteriors of each in brilliant colors. If it weren't for the thirty or so Big Hit employees rushing about, you might've stood at the entrance for much longer than thirty seconds.

But the moment you're on-scene, you go to work. One of the producers flags you down, offers a brief introduction, and tells you where to hide the English words.

"Have you seen what we did a few episodes back, eighty-seven and eighty-eight?" he asks, shoving a stack of stickers into your hands. "When we put Hangul all over the Oil Tank Culture Park?"

You shake your head, offering a sheepish smile. "I haven't...exactly watched too much 'Run.'"

The producer waves it off. "Just run around the building and stick these wherever you think seven boys may or may not find them. Feel free to go crazy. We have fifteen minutes to get everything set before filming starts. The boys should be here soon. So, go! Once you're done, come back here. While they're running around, you can help me with the grading system."

"Grading system?"

"They're going to make sentences with the words they find. Since you know English the best, you can award points to each word based on difficulty in using."

A smile spreads across your face. "Got it! Sounds fun."

You speed off into the museum, weaving past the sound and lighting crew that are attempting to set up. Several of the museum staff have also stayed behind to give guidance, and you're relieved that the boys and company have the entire building to themselves. This wouldn't be possible during daytime hours when the public is here.

You begin sticking several dozen stickers along the walls, on the frames of pieces of art, on the marble floor. Basically, anywhere you can reach. You cover the Van Gogh exhibit with difficult words like "effervescence" and "halcyon," along with colorful words like "lilac" and "vermilion."

The further into the building you move, the fewer and fewer people you see. Once you've passed the room of modern art and approach the Winged Victory of Samothrace, there's no one in sight. Down to your last few words, you slip into the dimmed hallway and turn the corner.

Winged Victory is just as you remember. Tall and beautiful and haunting. The statue is still so familiar to you. Looking at the base, you can almost see the body of the woman from your dream. Right before you and Taehyung started running for your lives, this was where a murder occurred.

You flinch at the memory of the blood, but something else inside you is pulling you out of the room and towards the fountain. Last time you saw it, you ran from the room and left the friendly acquaintance behind. Part of you wonders what he must've thought. Surely, you looked like you'd seen a ghost.

But you might as well have.

Your feet tip-toe on the marble. The boys have most certainly arrived, and the filming has started from the sound of it. Their crazed and excited laughter fills the echo-y halls. Seeing as there aren't any stickers this far into the museum, you take your chances and continue moving deeper in. The producer could wait just a few more minutes, couldn't he?

The last of the sunlight ricochets across each panel of glass in the dome ceiling, greeting you with shards of light skewed in every direction. Like fireflies dancing together, they bring an almost magical aura to the open space, one very different from the horrors of your nightmares. The columns are made of ever-moving fire, and the fountain is made of glittery stars.

As you stand in the doorway, your throat drys and tightens. Seeing this place again, no matter how different, brings back the memories you can't explain. Are they even memories? Surely, that has to be what they are. But from when or from whom, you can't explain. They're a requiem for someone you hardly know.

Does Taehyung know the answers? Does he know more than you about this event you keep playing over and over in your mind? He's been in your dreams ever since you were a child, as a version much older than you were then and even older than you are now. Who has just one dream their whole lives, unless the explanation is that he has that dream, too?

You shake your head at the absurdity of it all. "What am I doing here?" you murmur, running your hand through your hair.

"Are you okay?"

The deep voice behind you causes you to jump and spin, eyes wide as you spot a familiar face at the entrance to the fountain. Taehyung stands with his hands in the pockets of his pants, his head tilted as he observes you.

"Holy shit, don't sneak up on people!"

The brunet smirks a little and shrugs. "Didn't mean to, sorry. You were staring off into space and didn't even hear me walk down the hallway. And it's hard to be quiet on marble floors."

"God, sorry, I didn't mean to snap." You run your hands over your face. "This museum has...some strange memories for me. I thought coming back here would help, but I think I've made it worse."

"How do you mean? I thought you hadn't been to Seoul before?"

"I haven't. It's complicated." Your eyes flicker to the corridor behind him. "Where's your cameraman?"

"I ditched him, told him I was running off to the restroom. But I didn't see you anywhere, so I figured you'd be back here."

Eyebrows pulling together, you reply, "How'd you figure that?"

"Well, you seemed really freaked out last weekend. You ran out of here like a ghost was chasing you. I was honestly worried until I saw you at Big Hit the next day, and you seemed fine, so..."

He trails off, and the realization of his words hits you. "Wait...shit, were you the one I was talking to both times I visited here this week? The one in the hoodie and mask?"

Taehyung nods, though there's a tiny line between his brows that shows he's as confused as you are. "Yes? I thought you knew that from day one, when you spoke to me at the Van Gogh exhibit."

Shaking your head fervently, you spout, "No! Not at all. I had no idea, honest to god. I just thought you were shy or introverted or maybe had a tough time talking to girls. I never, ever thought you were..." You gesture to all of him.

His brown eyes widen as he steps closer and out of the doorway. "Wait, really? You had no idea."

"None!"

He chuckles softly, turning to gaze at the fountain as the sunlight fades to soft blues of night. "I'd assumed you knew who I was. You were so open and friendly to a perfect stranger. I thought you'd recognized me."

"Not at all," you retort. "I was being nice and friendly because there was something about you that was so damn familiar. Kind of like this whole place, actually. I don't know. I can't explain it."

Taehyung nods and runs a hand through his curly locks. "I won't lie, there's something off about this place for me, too." He shifts his attention from the fountain to you. "You weren't lying about anything you said before, were you? About you being called to Seoul and not knowing why?"

You lock eyes with him as you reply, "I promise, everything I said was true."

"Then why did you run away?"

A heavy sigh slips out, and you sit down on the water fountain's edge. Looking into the water to your side, you run various ways to go about this disclosure. Blunt truth? A comforting lie? A bit of both?

"[Y/n]?"

"I've had this...nightmare, ever since I was a little girl. Ever since I could remember. It's always the same. I'm running for my life with someone I know that I care deeply about. We're trying to escape a murderer who's closing in behind us. He's just slaughtered one of our friends and he's coming for us."

You pause to take a breath, and Taehyung takes that pause to sit beside you. He doesn't say a word, only waist patiently for you to continue.

"We're eventually trapped. The man with me tells me to run while he distracts the murderer. Of course, I don't listen. There's a fight. We're both injured. And we both die."

There's a pregnant pause in the air before Taehyung hangs his head and murmurs, "That sounds horrible."

"I haven't told you everything," you reply. "I'm afraid I shouldn't...but what the hell." You gesture to the space around you. "In my dream, the entire thing is set here, in the Seoul Museum of Art. Our friend was killed at the base of Winged Victory. The fight happens among these columns. And the man and I, we die in this very fountain, bleeding out from gunshot wounds."

You turn to face the man beside you, seeing his eyes shift from his feet to yours as his head tilts slightly. "And every time, it's the same three people besides me. The same woman at the base of Winged Victory, the same murderer with a gun, the same man that this nightmare-version of me loves. I have no idea who the first two are..."

In your hesitation, Taehyung says, "But you know the last one."

Nodding, your knuckles turn white as you drip your knees. Here it goes. All or nothing. No turning back now.

"I do. He's—"

"—Me."

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can, @jaienn

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

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“I’m a dick, I’m addicted to you”

Do you add extra letters to words sometimes? (ex. haaaa) Yeahhh.

Do you like the letter Z or Q better? I don’t favor one over the other. Who would you like to be stuck on an island with? I’d like to not be stuck on an island at all. What's your favorite quote? I have a lot of favorite quotes. I just love relatable stuff that puts into words how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking better than I can. I struggle with expressing myself and putting it into words, so. Name one random fact about your best friend. She loves the ID channel.

Do you like vegetables or fruit better? Gonna be honest, I don’t eat much of either one. Especially, fruit... it’s been a few years since I’ve had any. :X I have spinach, potatoes, and green onions pretty often, but that’s all the veggies I’ve had in a few years as well. In comparison to my zero fruit intake it’s something at least, ha. There are fruits I like and a few more veggies as well, but I just haven’t had them in awhile. What brand of shoes do you wear? Adidas. What's your favorite smiley face? On the computer I use :) Do you believe that if someone goes to bed thinking of u, u dream of them? I’ve heard that before and it can be a cute thought, but nah. Have you ever snitched on someone for cheating? No. Do you own a Snuggie? I do. What's your favorite number? 8. Which of the 7 dwarves are you most like from Snow White? Sleepy. What's the last movie you watched? Dumb and Dumber yesterday. What's your favorite month? October and December.

“I’m alright”

Do you like the smell of campfires? Yesss. If you could do one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? I don’t know. Do you like eggnog? Yes. Is there a song out right now that you can't stand? I haven’t heard any new music recently. I haven’t been listening to music lately. If you could stay one age forever, what age would you pick? I’d be fine if I just stayed 31 here on out. What's your favorite state? I like my state the best out of the few states I’ve been to (the others being Arizona, Idaho, and Georgia). There’s a few I’d like to visit that could potentially take the top spot for me, though. Have you ever went in public with your tag still on your clothes? I don’t think so.

Would you say your loud or shy? I’m quiet and shy. What's your favorite symbol on the computer? I don’t have one. Are you afraid of clowns? Pennywise is awesome. Do you wear glasses? I do. Ever rode on a horse? Just on one at the pumpkin patch as a kid. Poor horse, guided around in a circle all day. Do you have trouble saying or spelling some words? I think I spell pretty well. I stumble over my words when I talk sometimes, but I think my pronunciation is pretty good. Have you ever thought something was just to good to be true? Many times. And when I think that, it’s usually true. Do you like potatoes? I love potatoes.

“I’m in trouble, I’m an addict, I’m addicted to this girl”

Are you random? My thoughts and dreams are really random, but I wouldn’t describe myself that way. I’d say I’m predictable and boring. Do you believe that aliens are real? I don’t know. Certainly not the weird looking green creatures that are usually depicted for some reason. Do you sleep with the TV on? I do. I’ve done that ever since I was a kid. What's the longest you've slept in? Like 5PM or so. Have you ever seen a hairy toe? Yes. What's the last thing you watched on TV? Roseanne this morning. Do you have a song stuck in your head? Not at the moment. Who do you talk to the most? My mom and brother. What's the first thing you get on when the internet comes up? When the internet comes up oh man, was this made in the late 90s, early 2000s? lol. The first thing I do when I get on my laptop is continue scrolling through my Tumblr feed or do a survey. When's the last time you were sick? I’ve been sick with something for the past week. And no, it’s not the rona.

Which is your favorite: Music, Dogs, Shoes, Books, Jonas Brother? I love a variety of music, I love doggos in general, but I’m biased towards Labs and German Shepherds, Adidas are my favorite shoes, and back in my die hard Jonas Brothers days I was a total Joe girl. What color is your hair brush? Rose gold. Do you enjoy arcades? I did when I was a kid. We used to have one at my mall back when I was a kid that was a fun place to go. And Chuck E Cheese, ha. Have you ever liked 2 people at once? Yes. Have you taken a nap today? Not so far.

“show me the meaning of being lonely”

Would you ever want to be in a horror movie? I think it’d certainly come off as believable because I’m such a scardy cat and super jumpy. Being chased would genuinely scare me even it was acting. Even knowing what was going to happen I know I’d still be jumpy. Only thing is I don’t have the scream down that you gotta have for a horror movie. Have you ever been to Washington D.C? Nope. Do you hate when girls have guyish names and boys have girly names? I really don’t care. Have you lost or gained any weight since February? I know I haven’t gained any weight. I’ve probably lost some weight, which is really not good for someone who’s already underweight. Have you ever felt like no one wanted to be around you? Yes. I don’t even want to be around me. I often feel like I’m such a burden and annoyance. It’s my own thinking and feeling, though. My family doesn’t do or say anything to make me feel that way. I have had other people make me feel that way, though. Have you ever had to use a pay phone? Yes. Have you listened to music today? Nope. It’s been awhile since I’ve listened to music, actually. Do you only drink bottled water? Yes. Don’t judge me. I bet someone is on your mind right now, right? No, actually. Do you like writing in pen or pencil better? Pen, definitely. What's the last magazine you bought? I don’t even remember it’s been so long. Has anyone in your family ever forgot your birthday? My parents, brother, and close family members always remember. Was it any of your friends birthday in the past week? My older brother’s birthday was a couple days ago. Is anyone else in the same room as you? Nope. Are you one of the popular people in your grade? I’m done with school, but no I was never popular.

“you never call me when you’re sober”

What word best describes you in the dictonary? ”Depressed”, “Awkward”, “Lame”, “Loser”, “Ugly”... Do you like Soy Milk? Yeah, I’m lactose intolerant. I use that or almond milk. I don’t drink any kind of milk by itself, but I use those in stuff like coffee drinks and cereal. And for dunking my cookies and brownies in. Where were you at 10:30am yesterday? Right here in bed where I spent all weekend. I was having a really rough weekend. I felt really shitty and had zero energy. I couldn’t even drag myself outta bed for coffee, so that’s how you know I was feeling really bad. Thankfully, my mom and brother brought me a Starbucks. Do you think ghosts are real? I believe in spirits, but not actual Caspers. Do you know anyone who has been attacked by a shark? No. What is your best friend's mom name? Lupe. Have you ever made out in a movie theatre? No. What part of your body do you wash first? My arms and work my way down. Do you have an innie or an outie? Innie. How do you think the dinosaurs died? An asteroid. What's your favorite flavor of Pringles? Sour cream and onion, cheddar and sour cream, pizza, and ranch. What was the last thing you got grounded for? Something when I was like 12. Did you go to a water park last summer? I don’t go to the water park ever. What shoe do you put on first? I think the right. Finish the sentence: Girls.. Just wanna have fun.

“I think we’re alone now”

Have you ever had a song or poem written about you? No. Did you have a nickname growing up? My family called my Noodles, ha. When was the last time you played the air guitar? I don’t know. Have you ever biten your toenail? Ew, no. I’m not flexible enough to even do that, but I would never want to so it’s fine. Have you ever been dared to do something that you regretted? No. I didn’t do dares. Favorite website? Tumblr and YouTube. Worst thing that has ever happened to you? Probably the incident that made me a paraplegic at 7 months old. That’s certainly top of the list. Best thing that has happened to you? My doggos are definitely amongst the top. Best friend? My mom. If you could dye your hair any color, what color would it be? I dye it red and would like to continue to do so. Do you have a wii? It’s my brother’s, but since we live in the same house and I’ve used it, too, I’m gonna say yes. Most used phrase on IM? I don’t remember, it’s been over a decade since I’ve used IM. Have you ever heard of The Beatles? Of course. Have you ever wanted to give money to a charity? Yes, and I have given to charities.

“Who says you’re not beautiful?”

Would you ever want to have 14 kids? Uh, noooo. I don’t even want one. Are you wearing any bracelets right now? Nope. Do you have any jewelry that once belonged to an old family member? No. Do you dream every night? I usually do. Give me on of your goals Just taking it day by day. Do you like skinny jeans? Yeah, those are the only jeans I have. Do you ever say stuff that you don’t mean? It happens. Have you ever said "I love you" and not meant it? Yeah, but that was back when I was 16 and felt pressured into saying it back to my boyfriend at the time even though I didn’t have those feelings. Ever since then I haven’t thrown those words around lightly. What is your dream guy/girl? A patient, understanding, caring, loving, trustworthy, good sense of humor kind of guy. Do you hate when people overract? I can definitely be one of those people that overreact. And I know I’m overreacting when it’s happening, but I can’t help myself. I sometimes see people in situations where I’m like, ‘omg, they’re totally overreacting’ and think it could be handled differently, but yet I do the same thing. When was the last time you used the oven? It’s been awhile, actually... I don’t remember. Have you ever wanted to be free like a bird? ”And I’m as free as a bird now... and this bird you cannot change.” Are you a worrier? Oh am I ever. Does your house have an attic? Nope. Are you going fishing this weekend? No. I don’t go fishing.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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somethingjustsouthofbrilliance · 4 years

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When Love Must Die (chapter 9)

Quick author’s note for your attention, please. I’ve noticed that the interest in this story has waned quite a bit (here on tumblr at least), and (since I’m an absolute whore when it comes to feedback and I have a hard time getting inspired to write more when I don’t get much of a response) I’m considering stopping updates for it on here and sticking with AO3 updates alone. I’ll see how this chapter does and decide accordingly. Just wanted to give everyone a heads-up.

Link to Chapter 1 (masterlist)

Tagging: @armaggedidnt @oh-hamlet @foxyfoe-reblog @s3dgy @butttteeerrrrrr @swanheart69 @giulisetta @tonystark5ever @agentlokii @tardisoftheshire @maehemscorpyus

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Chapter 9

A soft rustle of movement beside him breaks through the light doze he has finally allowed himself to sink into what seems like moments ago, and he startles awake, arms tightening instinctively around the stubbornly unconscious man-shaped being tucked safely against his side. He blinks, disoriented slightly from his not-quite-sleep, lets his bleary gaze focus on the young witch who stands less than a foot away from the bed, a tray of food in her hands.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, looking contrite, “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll just…” Carefully, she sets the tray down onto the nightstand beside him, moves to step back.

“Don’t…,” Aziraphale raises a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep.”

She cants her head knowingly, her mouth tight with worried disapproval. “Perhaps you should be,” she chides. “You look absolutely beat.”

He believes it, too. He hasn’t had a moment’s respite since he popped back into Anathema’s living room with Crowley’s limp, mangled form cradled against his chest, shouting for Adam to encase the fragile, dying essence in a protective corporeal sheath – a temporary patch, a desperate attempt to keep the severely damaged essence from simply breaking apart in Aziraphale’s arms.

Since then, the only thing the angel was focused on was keeping Crowley alive and healing, healing, healing. Properly, thoroughly, completely. Determinedly undoing all traces of Hell’s purposefully, ruthlessly crude patch-up job: gently straightening out the twisted, crookedly knitted bones, mending the terrible scars that mar every inch of Crowley’s beautiful skin, soothing away the deep, devastating burns.

And it was working. Aziraphale could tell it was working. Could feel the broken, jagged edges of Crowley’s abused essence slowly, oh-so-slowly, pulling back together, its worryingly feeble glow becoming just a bit stronger in response to every pulse of angelic grace Aziraphale infused into it. And Crowley was blessedly, completely out of it throughout the harrowing procedure, remaining loose-limbed and pliant under the healing glow of Aziraphale’s hands.

Until Aziraphale started on his wings.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the awful, soul-rending scream that tore from Crowley’s throat when Aziraphale hand first ghosted over one of the mutilated appendages in an attempt to infuse a bit of healing grace into the worst of the damage. He’d pulled back then, shocked to frozen horror by the tidal wave of pain and fear that crashed against his senses. It was… it was…

Aziraphale swallows down an uncomfortably human swell of nausea as he thinks back to those harrowing and seemingly endless hours of the night, during which Anathema and Newt stood on either side of Crowley, pinning him down on his stomach as he thrashed and writhed desperately in their grip, while Aziraphale himself, his corporation’s heart bleeding, ripping at the seams in the face of his friend’s interminable agony, wrestled the wildly flapping wings into submission one at a time, forcing as much healing energy as he could spare into each quivering appendage, trying his best to ignore Crowley’s raspy, throat-tearing howls of pain and the sobbing, gut-wrenching pleas for him to “stop, please, stop!”

And then came the nightmares. Vivid, brutal and just as relentless. And Aziraphale was helpless against them. Helpless to calm the wild, defensive flail of the long limbs. Helpless to soothe the pained furrowing of the sweat-stained brow, the quiet, pitiful whimpers and full-on wretched sobs. Helpless to chase away whatever awful images that passed before Crowley’s wide open but unseeing stare, as his friend screamed himself hoarse into the haunting void visible to him and him alone. Helpless to do anything but sit there with silent tears streaming down his cheeks and his trembling arms wrapped around Crowley’s guitar-string taut, twisting form as tightly as he dared so as not to hurt him and to keep Crowley from further hurting himself.

He never felt more exhausted in his life.

And yet he didn’t dare leave. Didn’t dare step away even for a moment lest Crowley should fall prey to another vicious nightmare. Or, worse yet, lest he should awaken and find himself alone. Aziraphale couldn’t do that to him. Not after everything that dear boy has been through for his sake.

And so even now with the near-overwhelming and heretofore unfamiliar to him urge to sleep, he politely declines Anathema’s offer to keep watch over Crowley so he could go to the spare bedroom and rest.

“I’m sorry, my dear girl,” he shrugs, apologetic, shifting to pull Crowley closer as if afraid that she would physically try and force them apart. “I… I can’t.”

She shakes her head at him with the chiding look of a mother disappointed in her child. Concedes with a sigh, moving as if to leave. Then pauses, her gaze lingering on Crowley’s slack features. “It’s strange,” she muses, almost too quiet for Aziraphale to hear. “He doesn’t look much different.”

“How do you mean?”

“Oh,” she looks back up at him, flustered. Shrugs, gesturing awkwardly toward Crowley, “I just… I mean… I know Adam gave him his old body back, but I thought… with him being an angel now and everything… that he would…”

“Look different?”

She purses her lips, sheepish. Reaches up nervously to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. “The other demons I saw, they… well, they all looked and felt very different from the angels. Their appearance, their auras. So I thought that he’d feel different, too, now, but… he doesn’t really. I mean… his eyes are different now and all, but he… he feels the same. Do you know what I mean?”

Aziraphale nods, smiles wistfully, looking down at the man in his arms. “I met him before, you know,” he murmurs, a seeming non sequitur that she frowns at, confused. “Raphael,” he adds in lieu of explanation. “Before the Fall.”

“You knew him?” And he can feel the weight of her stare on him, the shocked judgment of her realization. “Then why didn’t you–” She stops short, hand flying up to cover her mouth before she says too much.

But it doesn’t matter. He knows what she’s thinking. Lord knows, he’s been thinking the same thing ever since he saw those images in Hastur’s head. Has been judging himself for that ever since, too.

“Why I didn’t recognize him?” He looks up to find silent confirmation in her expression. Huffs out in tired self-condemnation, “I forgot.” And that’s as simple an answer as he can give her. As truthful as it is damning. “I’m pretty sure none of us were supposed to keep any memories of the Fallen. They were… some of us were very close back in those days. Brothers, sisters, best friends. Having the memory of those we’ve lost that day, it… it would have caused quite a lot of grief, I imagine.” His lips twitch, morphing into a bitter smirk, “Perhaps She was afraid that it would lead to more unrest.”

“But you’re remembering now?”

Aziraphale hums, raising an eyebrow in contemplation. “Not… all of it,” he admits reluctantly, “not exactly. Just… flashes, really. Random bursts of images… feelings… impressions.” He shrugs, a bit helplessly, “It’s… it’s hard to explain.”

She nods mutely, seeming to accept his jumbled explanation. Perches cautiously on the very edge of the bed. “So what do you see?”

There’s a prickle in Aziraphale’s eyes, a too-too familiar burn, and so he raises his gaze to the ceiling in a vain effort to contain the traitorous gathering moisture. “Light,” he whispers, unable, unwilling to keep the awe from his voice. “Beautiful and mesmerizing… like the stars. And kindness,” he adds, his voice trembling just a bit, “So… so much kindness and love! I don’t think I’ve felt that much from any other angel.” He blinks, shifting his gaze back down to Anathema. Smiles brokenly as he feels a tear spill over his eyelashes to drip onto his cheek. “Perhaps that’s why he managed to hold on to it? He had so much of it within him that the Fall simply couldn’t burn all of it away,” he muses, as more tears follow down the same track.

It feels right, what he’s saying. Feels true. And he knew the truth of it, for thousands of years he knew. Had seen it in the begrudging care with which Crowley treated those around him; in the compassion (no matter how desperately, but, ultimately, poorly, hidden) that he exuded towards humans; in the untainted, gentle affection he showed towards Aziraphale himself.

But Aziraphale rejected it. Pushed that truth away, buried it under layers upon layers of denial, relying on blind obedience and mindless indoctrination instead of allowing himself to open up and see proof of the opposite that was right there in front of him, centuries upon centuries.

What a fool he was. What a naïve, blind fool.

“So you’re right, my dear.” He forces another smile for Anathema’s benefit – a pale, trembling thing. “He really doesn’t look that much different because… because he never really changed that much.”

He raises an equally trembling hand to swipe at his rapidly dampening cheeks before looking down to gaze with tearful fondness at the former demon asleep in his arms. Lovingly, tenderly, he threads his quivering fingers through the tangled, sweat-matted locks. Places a ghost of a kiss, soft and apologetic, onto the pale strip of skin where it meets the hair’s flame-red edge. Whispers, barely audible, “Did you, darling?”

Crowley’s face tightens as if in response, a deep furrow of pain cutting across the smooth skin of his brow, and Aziraphale reaches out, unhesitating. Presses his fingers over the crease, willing his own still healing-weary essence to release just a tad more of angelic grace. Slumps in grateful exhaustion as he watches Crowley’s pain-tightened features soften and go lax with proper, mending sleep.

There’s a brief moment when he wonders if he should take Anathema up on her offer after all, to take a much needed break from his healing vigil and allow himself to rest, to give his own powers a chance to recharge. He opens his mouth, a humble request for Anathema to stay with Crowley while he follows Crowley’s example and lets himself relax into a blessedly restful slumber ready on the tip of his tongue.

And snaps it shut a mere heartbeat later as a powerful and dreadfully familiar presence rattles sharply against the protective network of wards surrounding the cottage.

#good omens fic #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #hurt/comfort #angst #somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes #sjsob good omens fics

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doubletriplepowerbomb · 5 years

Text

Caveman Part 2

Part 1 here

Hey babes! I’m back again with part two of Caveman! No smut just yet ;) but things have gotten juicier.

I know my requests are still closed but I’ll reopen them soon I promise. There’s just a few more things I want to finish before taking your requests again.

Anyway enjoy part 2 of Caveman!

Word count: +4600

Warnings: swears and legit one line of implied smut

I’m also trying a thing. I wanted to add some of Roman’s point of view so whenever there’s a “-” and a break in the text it changes from Lindsey’s to Roman’s point of view.

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @scuzmunkie @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

“Gimme a week.” Roman said quickly. “A week… you tutor me and I’ll try and if I don’t get above a C on my tests you don’t ever have to deal with me again. I’ll leave you alone forever.”

He picked me to tutor him because he thought I had a crush on him and I would do his work for him. He called me a cunt. But he came to my house and apologized and I melted at his feet. Ugh.

Roman’s week started this morning and I prayed to God that he would take initiative. I needed him to study and want to work with me because if he didn’t, I couldn’t tutor him. I really didn’t want to see him sit out of any more games.

Right. That was the reason. Not that I wanted to spend more time with him.

I felt a flutter in my chest when I saw the name that lit up on my screen. Roman texted me asking to study today in the library. He is taking initiative.

While walking in the hall to the library, my heart dropped. Not even a week ago Roman and I had a huge argument. I mean after all, Roman expected me to do his work and help him cheat because he thought I had a crush on him. I do have a crush on him but that isn’t important. I’m not that desperate.

I just couldn’t believe that I forgave him so easily. All he said was sorry and I folded. Maybe I am that desperate.

I continued to walk while I thought about everything and quickly realized I was in the library. My eyes shot to the little, private corner that Roman and I always sit in. There he was eating his sandwich, arms bulging in a green tee shirt, his hair was tied back in a bun and again I melted.

“Hey Roman,” A familiar little voice pulled me from my lunch, it was Lindsey. I looked up from my sandwich and I felt something weird in my chest. Her hair was pulled halfway up with a light blue scrunchie and it always looks so good like that. She looked at me with a smile on her face too and sat down next to me. After everything I did to her, she still greeted me with that cute smile. Cute? What the hell am I saying? Fuck she smells so good. Roman stop! What the hell’s happening?

I had a light feeling in my stomach and I couldn’t think straight. She was sitting so close I just wanted to… I don’t even know. I needed to focus though. Lindsey would kill me if I slacked off.

“Roman… Earth to Roman.” I said waving my hand in front of his face. He’s been staring at one problem for about a minute now.

“Oh… uh. I uh…” He stumbled over his words and I moved closer. So I could explain the problem of course.

“It’s okay, this problem is hard.” I heard him breathe out in relief. “Just break it into small steps.” I said, looking up from the paper to him. He was already looking at me when my eyes met his.

He’s staring at me. Lindsey look away. Okay you’ve been staring at him for I don’t know how long. Does he think this is as awkward as I do? What is he thinking about?

Oh god what I wouldn’t give to kiss her right now. No Roman look away. Right now.

Roman’s eyes went back to the paper and I looked down as well. I felt a blush rise on my cheeks. I have no idea how long we stared at each other for.

The bell rang ending lunch. We didn’t get too much done today but it was okay because Roman was coming to my house tonight to study more.

He had a math test on Thursday and every day before that we studied during lunch and at my house after school. We got closer too. He spoke more and laughed more. And I started to like him more.

My doorbell rang at 7 on Wednesday night, Roman’s test was tomorrow and I totally forgot he was coming tonight. I looked down at myself. I was wearing blue athletic shorts, an over-sized Baja hoodie, and my glasses. Not to mention my hair in a messy bun at the top of my head. I didn’t look cute… at all. “Hey, Roman.” I said as I opened the door. My face reddened, he was staring at me.

She opened the door and my eyes widened. She was wearing short shorts, a drug rug, and her glasses. I had to clench my jaw to keep it from hitting the floor. She noticed me staring at her and blushed. I wanted this girl. She never wore this kind of stuff, I wondered why not. She looked hot as hell.

After staring for a couple more seconds I realized that I had been standing in the doorway for about a minute. I hadn’t said one word or moved at all.

Say something idiot. She’s gonna close the door on you, fucking weirdo.

“Hey, Lindsey. Nice drug rug.” He commented with a grin. This is so embarrassing. I never let anyone see me like this. I always take time to get ready for school. Now, I'm standing in front of my crush in my pajamas. I didn't even have a snarky remark for him. I was so embarrassed. “Are you okay?” He asked me, his eyes went from scanning my body to settling on my face.

He took a large step inside, getting much closer than he needed to, and closed the door behind him. “You know I was kidding about the hoodie, right? You look hot.” His words made me look up at him. He was smiling at me. His eyes didn’t look empty. He looked extremely sure of himself.

I look hot? Did Roman just call me hot? Oh my god, he did just call me hot.

I shook off my embarrassment and lead him to the kitchen table. “What do you have for me today?” I asked him, turning around to face him. His eyes went wide again and shot down to the floor before he started playing with his backpack strap.

I smiled to myself, those shorts ride way up. I was just showing off my ass to Roman Reigns.

Knowing he was caught, he was desperate to change the subject. “Can I just have some water.” He choked out. He brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. His bicep bulged in his tee shirt and I almost tripped over my feet. I nodded my head and got two glasses of water before sitting down at the table next to him. I could tell this was gonna be a long night for both of us.

“Okay, so we’re finishing the review?” He looked at me and took another sip of his water. My eyes found their way to his neck and I watched his throat move as he drank.

I’m going insane.

“I actually finished the review, I have some questions though.” He corrected me. I was shocked that Roman did the review by himself.

Despite how awkward and tense as it was at the beginning of the night, it became more relaxed and enjoyable very quickly. Roman had a few questions and we studied as much as we could but we just couldn’t manage to stay on track.

“You know, I think you're crazy,” I said with a determined look on my face.

His mouth gaped and he threw his hands up. “So what I don’t watch Game of Thrones? It’s confusing. There are so many characters, I can’t follow that shit.”

“It's the best show in the whole world! I’ll give you my HBO password, you have to watch it. And who cares about how many characters there are? That just makes it better. You’ll be able to follow all the stories. You just have to pay attention.”

“See, that's my problem. I do other things when I watch TV.” His voice was smooth and steady as if he was unaware of the gates he just opened. But little did I know he was fully aware. He knew well and good how much I loved shows and movies and once you got me started, there was no stopping me.

“No!” My tone was playful. “You don’t. Those people drive me crazy! How can you put something on TV then not watch it? Like what do you do? Don't tell me you need noise just to look at your phone or something.” I turned in my chair to face him completely and sat with my legs crossed.

I saw his eyes move to look down at my legs before he spoke. “That’s exactly what I do.” He said before taking a sip of his water. My facial expression was enough to make him choke on his water before laughing out loud. My face displayed a mixture of horror, disgust, and confusion.

“How could anyone do that?” My hands flew up and knocked over a glass. He laughed even harder than before, gripping his core to keep himself up. I tried to stay focused on the water on the table but his laugh was so infectious.

It’s kinda sad if you think about it. I’ve been going to school with him since kindergarten and I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh in public. He laughs almost every time he comes to my house though. Even when we sit alone in the library sometimes I get a chuckle, but I have never heard the laugh I did today. It was the laugh where it starts really loud in your belly, but you quickly get breathless and the laugh gets silent and you begin to wheeze. It sounds terrible but it’s the best laugh you could ever have with anyone. The type of laugh that lasts forever and leaves you with tears in your eyes and soreness in your core.

“You know, I’ve never seen anyone talk with their hands as much as you do.” Roman’s sentence came out in bits in pieces in between his laughs. I tried to explain myself but I couldn’t. His laugh made me laugh so now we were both there, sitting at my kitchen table, laughing our asses off.

Eventually, we both started breathing again and we got back to studying. Little giggles would erupt from either of us every now and then or someone would make a comment that made the other laugh. It was amazing and natural and it felt right.

3 hours later we finally finished everything. I looked up from the book and my mouth fell open. “Roman. It’s 10. It’s been 3 hours.” I wasn’t mad about the time, I was just surprised that it had been that long.

“Well, thankfully my dad won't kill me for being late. Ya’ know he doesn't mind too much when I come home late from your house.” He said. I could tell this confused him.

“Probably cause you’re studying and getting better grades. You come home late, but your homework is done and you're getting good test scores, he probably doesn’t mind as much.” I explained. Although we both knew how crazy Roman’s dad was, this logic was pretty sound.

“Well, I should probably go.” His voice wasn’t as light and fun as it was before. Him leaving my house meant no more laughter, he’d go home to a house full of awful people that couldn't wait to take out their anger on him.

I smiled at him and stood up as he did. He put all of his books away and lifted his backpack onto his shoulder. I watched his arms lift the bag and my mouth watered. His arms. I blinked hard and walked over to the door.

I thanked God that she was in front of me. I got to stare at her perfect ass and she wouldn’t know. I licked my lips subconsciously and my mind quickly became full of images of what I would do to her if she was mine.

I wanted her. Badly. I blinked hard and my mind went to a place it hadn’t been with her. The horny, yet smooth-talking, teenager that would hit on girls and make their knees turn to jelly. “You should wear those shorts more often.” I started, waiting until she turned around to finish my sentence. “They make your ass look great.” I accompanied my words with a smirk and she rolled her eyes at me. A little blush rose in her cheeks and I knew I had succeeded, I’m in her head now.

Roman texted me on Thursday morning after 4th period. Test went well I think. Can you stay after again? Mr. Barnes should be finished grading before 3:15. I smiled at my screen and texted back that I’d be there.

School flew by and I walked from my ninth period class to his math class. He was waiting there and perked up slightly.

“I really think I did a good job on this one.” Roman said. Mr Barnes came out just as his sentence ended.

“Roman. Lindsey.” His voice was a mixture of annoyed and angry. He handed Roman his test with a frown and walked back into his classroom.

Roman took a breath before flipping the test over and looking at the score. He paused for a moment after looking at it and I got nervous.

Oh no. He failed.

Roman’s mouth curved into a smile and his eyes stayed locked on his paper as he spoke to me. “Lindsey. I got an 88.”

“What?” I looked up at him with a smile on my face. The expression he had on his face practically forced me to smile. His eyes gleamed and his smile showed off his dimples.

“I got an 88 on my test. Lindsey, I don’t think I’ve never gotten a 88 on anything school related in my life.” Roman’s voice boomed and after he was finished speaking he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground.

I rested my hands on his shoulders and opened my eyes. Our faces were less than an inch apart, I stared into his eyes and I felt his arms tighten around my waist. I used every ounce of self control I had to not press my lips against Roman’s. He smelled so wonderful and his body felt so strong and firm against mine.

I felt the ghost of his arms around me when he put me down and I had to act like I wasn’t overwhelmed. “Roman, that’s incredible.” I said, grabbing the test out of his hands and stared at it in awe.

Lo and behold, on his test there was a red 88 in the right corner. I looked up at him and his eyes gleamed with something I’ve never seen. He was proud of himself. Roman drove me home from school and he was ecstatic.

Friday went by quickly and I was in my room getting ready for the game tonight. I got a text from Baron and put down my hairbrush. Not coming to the game tonight.

Baron hasn’t been around much this week. He really hates Roman and he isn’t happy that I’m still tutoring him. He just can’t get past that I’m spending so much time with ‘that caveman.’

I didn’t think about it too much, I just put my phone down and continued getting ready. I went to the game alone and tried to get Baron out of my head. Rumors still swirled around the bleachers but there were significantly less than the games before.

The game was close the whole time and the bleachers were full of energy. It was tied 28 to 28 the entire fourth quarter and in the final minute, Roman sacked the other team’s quarterback for the fourth down, giving Lakeside the ball. With that, we scored the winning touchdown.

The bleachers erupted with screams and cheers as the clock counted down the final seconds. The student section didn’t hesitate to disobey the administration and school security and stormed the field.

I quickly found Roman and made my way to him. “Roman, that was great!” I yelled once I finally reached him.

I heard that little voice congratulating me and I turned around. Before she or I said anything else I hugged her and lifted her off the ground. I felt her legs wrap around my waist and I felt my heart jump.

I even felt something in my chest when I saw her. Maybe it was her outfit. Jean shorts and a red crop top for the American themed game. Or maybe her hair, it was pulled halfway up with a white scrunchie. Or her smile. Or maybe it was that out of all the voices on the field it was hers that I heard.

Whatever it was, I had no idea what was going through my head other than that I wanted to kiss her.

So I did.

Roman tightened his arms around me and the next thing I knew, he was leaning in.

Is he leaning in? For what? Leaning in for what? Is he gonna kiss me? He is. Roman Reigns is gonna kiss me.

His gorgeous lips were soft and warm. His strong arms held me tightly against him and time seemed to stop as his lips pressed against mine. The whole world seemed to stop. All the voices on the field suddenly cut out leaving just me and Roman. I felt every nerve in my body practically explode as I melted in his arms and let him hold me as tightly to him as he wanted.

My crush of 6 years was kissing me. Not on a dare, not playing spin the bottle, but because he wanted to.

I felt sparks rushing through my body and I never wanted this to end. One of my hands held tightly to his shoulder while the other held tightly to his hair. I didn’t know if this was real, but I wanted more.

Why didn’t I do this earlier? She moaned into the kiss and I held her tighter. I moved my hands down her back to cup her ass in my hands. I was expecting her to pull away but she sat up straighter in my arms. She tightened her grip on my hair and pressed her body closer to mine.

I knew the kiss was going on for to long. Someone’s gonna come over. Somebody’s gonna break it up. Roman get off of her. Put her down. I felt her tongue run across my bottom lip and I opened my mouth. Fuck, I don’t care if anyone comes over. No one is breaking this up.

“Oh yeah Reigns, get it!” The loud booming voice of one of Roman’s football buddies broke our kiss and reality came crashing back in.

Roman pulled away and put me down, but he held firmly onto my arm. “Ambrose, get lost.” Roman’s words were firm and his grip on my arm didn’t loosen. Did he wanna kiss me again? Why is he still holding on?

Dean quickly ran away and Roman turned to me. He looked at me with fire in his eyes and the most dilated pupils I had ever seen.

Tell her how you feel. This is your chance. You can finally have her.

“Look, Lindsey… I really-” He started, but he was cut off by another voice screaming my name.

“Lindsey!” My head whipped around to see Baron. He was running across the field, pushing through people to get to me and Roman. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He yelled once finally reaching us. He didn’t even give me time to answer. He just grabbed my arm a hell of a lot tighter than Roman did and began pulling me towards the parking lot.

“Baron! Let her go!” Roman screamed as he ran after us. By this time, most people on the field had stopped talking and kind of just stared at us. Of course they wanted to see this scene unfold. I would’ve too if I wasn’t in the middle of it.

“Roman, fuck off, man! Leave her alone!” Baron yelled. I struggled against Baron’s grip but he just tightened it. My face begged Roman to stay, to help me, but he couldn’t. His coach was calling the boys into the locker room. Roman looked at me with a sorry look in his eyes, then turned to run to his coach.

Baron dragged me to his car, only letting me go when we got there. Although we were in the parking lot, many people were still around. A lot of them followed us off the field. I could only imagine how quickly this story was going to make its way through the hallways. “Baron, what the hell?” I asked him when he finally let me go. I didn’t particularly care that I was making a huge spectacle. Normally, I would hide away, but Baron stole me away from the boy I had been crushing on so hard for years and I was not happy.

“You’re kidding right? First, you lie to me about tutoring Roman. You act like you aren’t involved with him in any way and I come to the game to see if you’re okay and you’re fucking making out with that caveman!”

“He isn’t a fucking caveman!” I screamed. Baron seemed taken aback by how loud I yelled in Roman’s defense. “I only lied about Roman because I knew you’d get like this. You know I’ve been crushing on him since we were 12 and I’m finally spending time with him and all you do is shut me down. He finally kissed me. Roman Reigns, the boy I’ve been crushing on for 6 years, finally kissed me and my best friend doesn’t even care.” As I spoke to Baron I started to really comprehend what had just happened a few minutes ago on the field.

Roman fucking Reigns, the hottest guy in the school, and my crush since 6th grade, the school’s resident jock just kissed me. Me. A shy nerd who takes pictures for the yearbook. And it wasn’t just a little peck it was a full on, tongues and all, hands roaming, desperate for more, kiss.

With all my thoughts racing through my head I forgot where I was, who I was with, and anything I had previously said. “He kissed me.” Was all I was able to mutter.

“Lindsey. Please don’t tell me this is getting to you. Please. He’s a horny jock and that kiss meant nothing. He was excited about the win and he lost control. He had no idea what he was doing…” Baron was talking but I wasn’t really listening.

Yes he did. That boy knew EXACTLY what he was doing. If he didn’t mean to kiss me he wouldn’t have kissed me for so long, or practically shoved his tongue down my throat. He wouldn’t have grabbed my arm when Dean came over. He would’ve let me go and acted like it never happened. But he wasn’t embarrassed, I saw his face. He wanted Dean to leave so he could have more.

“Are you even listening to me?! I swear Lindsey you are so stupid sometimes!” Baron turned away from me and got into his car. He didn’t wait for me to get in, he didn’t ask if I had a ride, he didn’t check for my car in the lot. He just left.

I wouldn’t have gotten into his car if he offered to take me home anyway.

I watched Baron’s tail lights disappear out of the parking lot before walking to my own car. People were staring at me but I couldn’t care less.

“He kissed her…”

“Kissed her? Dude he swallowed her…”

“It was hot…”

“Hey Lindsey how was that kiss?”

“Slutty bitch…”

“She practically threw herself at him…”

“She did not…”

The sound of the whispers swirling around me were only silenced by my car door closing. Even then people were obviously talking about me. I didn’t care though. Roman kissed me. He lifted me up, shoved his tongue down my throat, and grabbed my ass. As unromantic as that sounded, I was on top of the world.

I turned my music on loud and waved at all the people staring. Nothing, not even my best friend screaming at me, could ruin this moment.

I got home with a smile still plastered on my face. I changed out of my shorts and crop top into my pajamas before I started looking through the pictures from tonight. I downloaded the pictures onto my computer and sent the pictures out to the boys. I looked through the ones of Roman and smiled at the ones I took for myself.

Yes, I took a picture of his ass. Yes, For myself. Of course I didn’t send it to him. They were for me.

...hey honey. It’s your brain. I know you had a great time making out with Roman and all. But what did that mean? I’m sure you didn’t want to think about it but here I am. Time to think.

What the hell did that mean?

I made myself a cup of tea and sat on my couch. Okay well obviously he kissed me and obviously he liked it. Obviously I liked it too. He leaned in first which means he wanted to. And he didn’t kiss me immediately which means he thought about it. Granted, I begged him to open his mouth first, but he did it and he did it quickly.

I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. I still felt his lips on mine. “Oh fuck, Roman…”

But what did he want. Did he want more than just one kiss? Was that his way of telling me ‘hey I like you’ or did he just want a kiss?

Maybe Baron was right. He lost control and kissed me just because he was excited about the win. He was responsible for the fourth down and he was a major factor in the win. And I did go over to him. He probably just kissed me cause I was the first girl he saw.

Well he was talking to Emma before me. Emma’s a cheerleader. He didn’t kiss her. He kissed me. And it wasn’t like he just kissed me right away. He smiled at me, then lifted me up, looked into my eyes and then kissed me.

“He had no idea what he was doing…” Baron’s words came back to haunt me.

Did he mean it? Did he want a girlfriend? Did he want a hookup? He did grab my ass, but was that just a signal that he wanted to hook up? Or was that him enjoying it?

That kiss wasn’t exactly reserved. Did he kiss me like that cause he knew he wouldn’t kiss me again? He definitely didn’t leave too much to my imagination. Or maybe he wanted to show me what I could have, make me want it more.

Nobody kisses like that if they didn’t mean it. And we were in the middle of the football field, surrounded by people you don’t do something like that unless you mean it. Well every other time we’ve been together we’ve been alone. Maybe he didn’t mean it.

Maybe I should just ask him. No I can’t do that. What if he didn’t mean anything by it and I ask him what it meant? He’ll never talk to me again. He’ll think I’m a psycho.

Lindsey… you’ve been talking to yourself about a kiss for 10 minutes now. You are a psycho.

He kissed me, if he wants more he’ll make sure I know. If he doesn't, that's fine too. I’ve spent 6 years not thinking I’ll ever get to talk to him let alone have this problem with him. It’ll work itself out.

Oh god but what if it doesn’t? What if he wants more? What if he doesn’t? What if my reaction changes his mind? What do I do then? Do I act like I want more? Will he be weirded out? Well if I act like I don’t care will he stop trying? Maybe this kiss was his final attempt at making me his. But what if I act like I’m interested and he’s not? What would I do then?

Am I overthinking this?

Yes?

Yes.

Part 3

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fluff #roman reigns x oc #OC #highschool #au #Baron Corbin #dean ambrose #angst #caveman #WWE

80 notes · View notes

junionigiri · 5 years

Text

BNHA Rarepair Month - Day 23 - Tattoos

for @bnha-rarepair-month

Summary: Seeing her interest in tattoos, Tokage brings Uraraka with her to Illusion Ink, where her girlfriend Jirou works as an apprentice. Much to Uraraka's surprise, however, Todoroki Shouto is also there getting inked. (Cafe/Hospital AU part 2)

Relationship(s): Tokage Setsuna/Jirou Kyouka/Uraraka Ochako (SetsuJirouChako); Todoroki Shouto/Uraraka Ochako (TodoChako)

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: I know I tagged this one as SetsuJirouTodoChako in the other platforms but yeaaaaah. Please enjoy the disaster that is Uraraka Ochako hehehe. Story TBC in the upcoming dates~

Uraraka Ochako sighs as she pulls off her OR scrub suit in the women’s lockers. She doesn’t always feel like shit and that she’s super incompetent at her job, but then again she didn’t always have to assist Dr. Hakamata for three consecutive surgeries. After being yelled at and threatened to be stitched up the ceiling about fifty times, her ego had just about enough bruising.

“I’ve had my share of miserable days, but you make a funeral look like a rave, Uraraka.”

Uraraka looks up from her miserable face reflected in her little mirror inside her little locker to look at the woman who entered. “Oh--Dr Tokage? What’re you doing here?”

The green-haired internist gives her a saw-tooth grin as she saunters in with a sterile set of scrubs. “Cardiac monitoring duties. I ran into a miserable-looking Honenuki on the way here. I’m guessing you both got an acute case of Best Jeans Syndrome.”

“You got that right, doc,” Uraraka says with another despondent sigh, one that she pulls out of the very depths of her being. “I was literally moments away from being torn into shreds and woven into the world’s ugliest quilt… I made so many booboos that…”

Oh sweet fuck Happy Thanksgiving.

“That I can’t…” Uraraka struggles, as Tokage Setsuna casually starts pulling off her scaly-green dress, showing off an arsenal of tattoos over the smooth skin of her arms, chest, belly, and hips, and the most toned body on a woman she’s ever seen, ever, in her short existence as a disastrous bisexual. When the girl bends over to shimmy out of her shoes, Uraraka had to turn around to stop staring at her toned ass. “Sorry doc, I totally forgot what I was saying--”

Dr. Tokage chuckles. Through the little mirror in her locker, Uraraka sees that her stupid pink cheeks have turned cherry red. She’s probably a few moments away from floating herself into an embarrassed heap in the ceiling, if the doctor didn’t speak in the next second. “It’s fine. People tend to do that when they see all the tats. I regularly get shit over it, like why does a doctor look like a freakin’ Yakuza member, and things like that--”

“Th-that’s not what I w-was thinking at all!” Uraraka stammers, willing herself to look at the green-haired girl again. Thankfully, Dr. Tokage’s already pulling down the scrub top, and the brunette’s heart is spared a heap of extra work load. “I think your tats are amazing! I wish I had about half as many as you do! I just have a small one myself, and it’s not that nice-looking…”

“You think so? I’m sure it ain’t that bad,” says Tokage, with a playful little smirk on her wide mouth. “Care to show me?”

Uraraka blushes up to her hairline and internally beats herself up for even mentioning her tattoo. Because while she’s a little proud of having the courage to get a tattoo in the first place, she isn’t sure that she wants to show her fat ass to Tokage… especially not after she’s given such a lovely a visual treat.

Still, it’d be weird not to show it to her at this point, so she tries not to be too obviously reluctant when she pulls down her pants and shows the skin of the outside of her left thigh, angling her butt outwards so the other girl can see it. Her blush doesn’t die down as Tokage appraises it, bending her face so close over her bottom that she feels her piercing gaze on her.

“That’s such a cute little astronaut, Uraraka!” giggles the doctor, green eyes dilating from slits into interested dark oblongs. “And those cute planet-balloons! Are you into outer space or something?”

“Y… yeah… space is cool,” she says dumbly, making herself internally flinch at how uncool she sounds. Luckily though, Tokage doesn’t seem to mind her silliness, and just gives that melodic laugh again. She tries to recover by adding, “I mean… I want to have another tattoo… maybe like, a half sleeve or something, with all the planets--”

She shows off her bare arm, which contrasts quite markedly against Tokage’s decorated one. She sees that her muscly right arm has various sharp-toothed dinosaurs on it, inked in spectacular detail.

The green-haired girl hums thoughtfully, tapping one scaly finger to her chin. “You serious about that, Uraraka?”

The nurse blinks as she regards Tokage’s daring stare. “Yeah, I’m serious… I guess? I mean, I’ve looked around for artists and stuff, but as for design...”

“Coolness. That’s all I need to hear.” The girl shows off her sharp teeth again and raises both eyebrows. “You’re done with your shift, yeah? You should wait for me. This thing’ll take, like, a second or so--”

“Huh? But--”

“I mean, as long as the patient doesn’t die or anything,” she adds with a chortle and a graceful wave of her inked hand. “I’ll see you at the cafeteria in like, a couple of hours? Hey, maybe I can leave my mouth with you so we can keep talking?”

The young nurse yelps in horror and stammers the most polite no thank you I don’t want to spend the next two hours with your sexy disembodied mouth, and Tokage only cackles in response. In a few moments, the woman disappears into the operating room suites, and Uraraka can only calm her silly pink cheeks down and get dressed.

Clad in her casual clothes (which is just a faded black tank top, joggers, and a pair of sneakers), Uraraka nervously chews on the plastic straw half-dipped in her lukewarm coke when she sees Dr. Tokage amble up to her, clad once more in an emerald-green snakeskin dress and a white coat.

In her doctor-ly regalia, all her tattoos are hidden from plain sight. There’s a certain thrill that comes with knowing how the map of her body looks like, while the rest of the world around her doesn’t. “So good news, the patient’s alive and I get to go home while Ibara-chan takes care of the rest. You ready to go, Uraraka?” she asks, sticking out her forked tongue for good measure.

“I guess?” Uraraka answers uneasily. Wherever Tokage’s taking her, she hopes it’s a place where she can see those lovely dinosaur-studded arms again.

They walk out of the hospital, with Tokage filling the empty air between them with chatter. Uraraka’s amazed by her ability to be able to make a conversation about anything. By the time they reach their destination, the young nurse finds herself up-to-date with all the latest gossip going around the hospital. In particular, one involving Dr. Todoroki and his father, the present number one pro-hero Endeavor, who’s allegedly on a head-hunt for a perfect mate with a perfect quirk so he can arrange a marriage and hopefully produce a grandchild who’d actually agree to being a pro hero, unlike any of his children who avoided heroism like the plague.

Uraraka wrinkles her nose at that. Arranged marriages--aren’t they a thing of the distant past? Or like stupid plot devices in shoujo manga, just an excuse for ordinary MCs to interact with impossibly rich and handsome men? Well, Dr. Todoroki Shouto indeed fits the bill for your standard shoujo or josei hero. He has the wealth, the breeding, and the brooding too. Just enough torment to be interesting, but not overwhelming, like Dr. Tokoyami or Dr. Kuroiro from radiology.

And the looks. Ohh, buddy boy, the looks. That dual-toned hair, those crazy heterochromatic eyes, how very, very pretty his face looks, even with the scar on his face. Not to mention how unfairly muscled his body is, for someone who spends all his time doing neurosurgery and probably not much of anything else. Uraraka’s spent many semiconscious moments inside and outside the OR watching him undress and unglove and unmask, enjoying how his strong arms look while scrubbing down for the next procedure--

Wait, did she really just--with Doctoroki again, of all people--ugh, Uraraka wants to punch herself in the damn face. She hasn’t even finished fantasizing about Dr. Tokage, and here she is moving on to the Hosu Gen’s unofficial image model--who, by the way, doesn’t even have a good reason to interact with her outside the OR.

But even though Uraraka’s notoriously mercurial when it comes to her crushes, Dr. Todoroki’s one of her strong constants. She always comes in danger of losing herself in her thoughts when she thinks of him, for some reason. What a true disaster she’s turning out to be.

She focuses her attention instead on the small place they’ve ended up, called Illusion Inks. The young nurse tilts her head curiously at the entrance and doesn’t move until Tokage does a little come-hither motion with her fingers.

“Come on. Are you backing out or something, Uraraka?” she asks teasingly.

“Um,” she begins uneasily, rubbing her arm self-consciously, “I know I said I wanted a tattoo, but I didn’t mean tonight--”

“No time like the present, babe,” is all the green-haired girl says before she forcibly drags Uraraka by the arm and into the threshold. Damn, the woman’s frickin’ strong, those muscles aren’t just for show.

The inside of the shop is nice and neat and bright. The walls are full of illustrations of varying themes, all of them dream-like: dragons and florals and creatures of the deep blue sea. Uraraka finds herself taken in particular by the galaxy themed ones, showing off clouds of purple and deep red surrounding a sea of stars.

She doesn’t pay attention to the beautiful illustrations for very long, though. Behind the counter is who Uraraka swears is an actual pixie of the dark-elemental type unless proven otherwise--straight, dark hair that falls above her shoulders, dark purple eyes that have just-enough-torment, and smooth beautiful skin riddled with tattoos all over her arms, neck, and chest. Her elongated earlobes are plugged into her phone, and she seems to be strumming on a phantom guitar before she looks up to the two visitors.

She breaks out into a cute grin. “Hey, Setsuna~ My fav crazy internist!”

“Kyouka! My beautiful tattooed angel, I missed you!”

Uraraka watches as they share a kiss that definitely lasts for more than ten seconds. She wonders whether it’s polite to look away or not, and whether it’s normal to suddenly feel so single and miserable upon the sight of two beautiful girls kissing until they thankfully break apart.

The girl called Kyouka then turns to Uraraka and regards her with a curious stare. “So Setsuna, are you going to introduce me, or…?”

“Of course I am,” she says, with some sass. “This here’s Uraraka Ochako, one of the best OR nurses in Hosu Gen, and your next beautiful canvas.”

“Hey. Jirou Kyouka. I’m an apprentice here,” the girl offers, offering out her hand for Uraraka to shake. “If I look familiar, it’s probably ‘cause you see me down the street sometimes trying not to kill my boss and co-worker at NTG Cafe.”

Uraraka gasps. “Oh, you work there? Your cold brew’s amazing. And yeah, I’ve seen your boss maybe once? I’d just like to say, from the bottom of my heart: yikes.”

Jirou laughs heartily at this. “I like this girl. You should ask her out too, Setsuna.”

The green-haired girl hums thoughtfully. “I was getting to that,” she begins, and before Uraraka can even process what they meant, Tokage’s already shrugging off her doctor’s coat, and she’s looking at those wonderful arms again, and all sound reasoning goes out the window. “Anyways, Kyouka, Uraraka here tells me that she wants a galaxy-themed sleeve to match the cute little astronaut she has tattooed on her toned-as-fuck left thigh--”

… she likes my thigh? Uraraka stammers bashfully in her head, before she realizes that Tokage’s already motioning for her to take of her pants right there to show Jirou the astronaut. Blushing, she obliges, hooking her thumb against the garter of her joggers while severely regretting her choice of hot-pink, kitten-print cotton undies that day, to show off her ass and all its unseemly stretchmarks for the second time that evening.

Jirou whistles low and carefully touches her skin and traces the outlines of the astronaut and balloons with her calloused fingertips. “Wow, it’s so cute, Uraraka. You might need to have it retouched, but it’s really well-made. Who’s your artist?”

“Um… he moved away, but Kamakiri-san from Mantis Tattoos did this one--”

“Yikes. Another mess of a human being, that mans is. Totes cray-cray, amirite?” a different, sultry voice calls out from behind them.

Uraraka goes ramrod straight and struggles dumbly to pull her pants up, but instead drops the mess of fabric to the floor. A tangled mess of astonishment and horror finds itself uncoiling inside her chest when she sees just who comes out of the back of the shop, to also stare at the little insignificant artwork on her thigh.

Uraraka thinks that the woman who walks in is the very definition of babe--long, light brown hair that falls over her shoulders, wide brown eyes, full lips with a tasteful hint of rouge, an hourglass figure accentuated by a jet-black bodycon dress that shows off her ample cleavage. Like everyone else in this damn place, all her exposed skin is covered in ink. Most of them are floral and dreamy and absolutely gorgeous, of course, and if she were the only one there, Uraraka would have spent more time appreciating all the details.

Yet, the person next to her just…!!! Makes her want to drop dead right there!!! Makes her want to walk her fat ass back to the ER and ask for a sedative that’ll last her for the next seven years!

Because why in seven hells would Todoroki Shouto, of all people, be standing there with his shirt only half-way on, with his stupid sexy arms and stupid sexy torso and stupid sexy abs on full display, his stupid sexy mouth half-open and curious, and his stupid sexy eyes directed right at her naked, stretchmarky ass?!

Uraraka knows that she should probably pull her stupid pants up and rescue what little dignity she has left. Her little brain goes shit shit shit as it takes her too long to hide her butt and her silly underwear and tattoo.

Thankfully, his stare doesn’t last very long. He makes an awkward noise in his throat, trains those distinct eyes elsewhere, and mutters, “I didn’t see anything, Uraraka.”

Yes you did, you obviously did, Doctorokiiii whyyyy do you exist, she cries in her head. Beside her, she hears Tokage trying to keep her shit together. She somehow manages not to float her ass up the ceiling and into outer space and to straighten up.

She hears the woman laughing next to her. “You didn’t? Too bad, fam, those are the nicest set of gams I’ve ever seen in me life. Cannot. Even.”

When Uraraka dares herself to look at the young doctor again, she sees that he’s already got his shirt back on and that his face is a little pink and he couldn’t look at Uraraka in the eye. She ponders briefly if she needs to leave the OR--maybe ICU has openings or something.

“So… Camie, I hear she wants a galaxy-themed sleeve, so I’m planning to make some designs for her right now,” the dark-haired girl pipes up brightly, interrupting Uraraka’s shame-filled train of thought.

The bombshell named Camie puts a finger to her full lips and makes a show of thinking about it. “This’ll be your biggest project to date, fam. You up to this?”

“Sure am, boss.” Jirou makes a show of flexing her slender arm and all its tattoos. Tokage subsequently swoons theatrically next to her.

“Yass~ then she’s all yours, my sweet child. Although, ya gotta make time for her after closing hours. We’re fully booked for, like, the next hundred years and so~”

“Leave it to me.” Jirou does a lazy salute and gives Uraraka a pure, excited smile, one that momentarily makes the nurse about the terrible misfortunes that had happened to her and her ass just then. All she wants to do now is to spend the rest of the evening with this beautiful pixie, talking about the vast infinity of space, all the undiscovered planets, aliens--

“Hey, Todoroki, lemme see your back!” Tokage says, pulling at the end of his shirt.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Todoroki’s shirt comes off again, and Uraraka feels the Big Bang emulating in her brain once more. She cannot keep her jaw from opening like Pandora’s box as she takes in the beautiful sight.

Dr. Todoroki Shouto’s back is a fuckin’ masterpiece, and she isn’t talking about the obra maestra of a tattoo that Camie must have been working on before they arrived. Even miniscule movements of his arms and torso--fuck, even when he fucking breathes she sees muscles moving deliciously under his skin. It’s not too bulky either, just lean and well-proportioned and tasteful. Everything the light touches is a kingdom for her eyes to feast on--her fingers itched to touch the cuts--

Oh, and also, the tattoo. There’s saran wrap over it, but Uraraka still sees that it’s so beautiful it’s fearsome. Two dragons, entwined in each other, staring each other down as if they’re preparing for a battle to the death. On the right the dragon is grey and white, with glaciers surrounding it. On the left, a red dragon with hot blue eyes is engulfed in flame. The tattoo isn’t complete yet, and most of the skin on his back is swollen and tender, but Uraraka can tell that once it completely heals, it’ll be the most beautiful back in the history of all backs.

“Hot damn, Todoroki,” Tokage whistles. “Knowing you though, it still screams daddy issues--I mean, really, ice versus fire? You’re still hung up about that mess? But. Hot fucking damn.”

“Sure,” Todoroki says flatly, not deigning himself to remark about the daddy issues thing. Uraraka sees a little annoyed flash in his eyes, however, and she’s sure that he isn’t thinking of Tokage’s super foul remarks.

“Lit, ain’t it? My best work to date, even if I say so myself,” Camie says, proudly strutting around to stare at her handiwork once again. “We gots maybe two sesh’s to go, and his back’s good to go. You like it, Astronaut Sis?”

Uraraka closes her mouth shut and hates herself for the loud sound it makes. “Y-yeah, it’s pretty… um, lit,” she offers weakly.

She tries not to think too hard about the slightly-less-disinterested look that Todoroki gives her before he shrugs on his shirt again. He gives a curt little nod to Camie and says, “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, Utsushimi.”

“Sure, TodoBroki. Have fun saving lives and all,” Camie says, puckering her lips for a flying kiss that the dual-toned man ignores blatantly as he turns for the exit.

Uraraka thinks that she’s finally going to be able to catch her breath, but suddenly Todoroki stops at the door and turns his mismatched eyes to her. “Uraraka,” he calls out, making her freeze.

“Y-yes, Doc?” she stammers, her posture suddenly meek and all nurse-like.

There’s that odd look on his face again, and for a second Uraraka worries that he’ll tell her not to spread the word about his huge fucking ass back tattoo, but all he says is, “Show me your tat once you’re done. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Uraraka doesn’t know what she says in response, but he gives her a ghost of a smile before he leaves the premises.

When she deflates, Tokage and Jirou are positively cackling at her, and all she’s able to manage is a whine about how unfair life is. “I can’t believe I just showed Dr. Todoroki Shouto my ass,” she whines into Tokage’s arms, as the lizard girl holds her in mock-comfort.

“And as a direct result of it, he’s in-love with your astronaut ass,” the doctor remarks with a sawtooth grin. “But we can talk about our future foursome later. Right now, please let my beautiful and talented girlfriend draw on your sexy arm, Uraraka!”

Uraraka obliges and follows Jirou out into the back, where they finally talk about her tattoo. But she finds out how much of a struggle it is to keep her thoughts in outer space when most of her mind is occupied by fire and ice.

#bnha fic #bnha rarepair month #uraraka ochako #todoroki shouto #tokage setsuna #jirou kyouka #utsushimi camie #todochako #setsujirou #setsujiroutodochako #really confused on how to tag this but w/evs

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moccahobi · 6 years

Text

Role Model ≠ Model Dongsaeng [Jimin x Reader]

Warnings: None (Crack)

Word Count: 2,106 words

Summery: The slow descent into madness and love for you was accompanying Jimin as he meet an old time friend of Hoseok hyung.

The first time Jimin met you, you were curled up with Jung Dawon noona on her couch as the two of you slowly vegged on popcorn, eyes hidden by the other’s body as some random person in your taiwanese horror marathon died a gory death. Apparently, Hoseok hyung wanted to surprise his sister for her birthday, although all that changed after the members heard two very scared screams from his phone (one of you had somehow managed to buttdial him). As soon as the blood curdling screams were heard the members rushed to her apartment (surprisingly small for someone who owned a clothing store), her birthday gifts completely forgotten in the elevator. For once Hoseok used his key to immediately open her apartment door as he came in screeching in an attempt to scare whoever might’ve attacked you two (well… really just her because no one in the group knew you were there). It wasn’t until you, with your large doe eyes and trembling body, turned to look at Hoseok that he suddenly shouted “My friend! My friend!” repeatedly while jumping up and down, his normal, excited smile invading his face.

“H-H-hell-hello… Hoseok…” You squeaked out. He later found out as you ran around the apartment screaming about not needing to give crazy people respect that you had just returned from a four year long study abroad in Costa Rica. He also later found out that you either didn’t want to address a close friend with any semblance of respect or you completely forgot how to properly speak Korean.

The second time was two months later when you suddenly burst into the dorms with a beet red face and demanded for Dawon noona (who came over to hang with her brother), but before you could ussher her out of the dorms you burst down into tears crying about needing chocolate but not wanting to be in public because you looked ugly (something Jimin would have vehemently disagreed with if he wasn’t so shocked). The mood swing came suddenly before your eyes widened, you groaned, and curled up into a ball.

He was only able to catch a muffled, “I literally feel like someone is ripping my spine out from my ovaries. This isn’t normal.” Before noona’s face turned red from embarrassment as she struggled to drag you out of the living room with strangled grunts. No less than five minutes later (once you were cuddling a tub of chocolate ice cream and a bottle of sriracha and was watching some reruns of a show called “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”) you apologised for that. Your excuse was simple: You weren’t used to that stuff being taboo to talk about in more open spaces.

The third time was only a day later. You went up to him when he was at the convenience store with a nervous smile on your face. “What are you famous for? Because I swear I think I’ve seen your face in at least two adds, but I have not been able to place it at all and I sure as hell am not going to ask Dawon or Hoseok. They’d just make fun of me.”

A small snort left his lips when you asked because the way your brows furrowed together as you cussed made you look so adorable and he couldn’t handle it, “I’m in a band with Hoseok hyung.” He said, and though he wanted to ask for your number, you merely perked up, eyes shining as you thanked him and scurried away to some other part of the store.

By the fourth time he met you (nearly a month later when the band visited Dawon’s apartment-- now your shared apartment) he had finally managed to get the courage to ask for your number, something a couple other members did directly after you gave Jimin yours. It was nice to see you again and he couldn’t stop smiling like a child in a candy shop when he did. Later you ended making a Costa Rican snack for everyone to eat (which was basically some fried banana and sauces), although you repeatedly told them that they were Platanas and the dish was called “Patacones” with a very offended and very cute look of scorn taking over your face but all he could hear was smooth foreign words flowing from your mouth. Later that day you started to sing some song in the same language, your voice cracking as you stumbled over your feet in a poor attempt at a tango while everyone laughed, including you.

The fifth and sixth time he has seen you was in a pre-drama binge interview you were in. Hoseok had gathered everyone up (including Dawon noona) to watch this drama that was fully released on this random website. It first he didn’t recognize you as your introduction was a video of thirteen-year-old you dressed up as a princess for some popular tv show he probably watched past his bedtime. You were an adorable and annoying little sister and sidekick to the main character as he worked on creating a world of his imagination in the woods.

Your voice brought him back to the present as you answered the question the interviewer had given you (what brought you back?), “I love acting. Plain and simple, really. I know that many child stars were pressured into acting by their parents, and yes for a little before I left the scene, I was, but I really do love it. Plus, any of my friends from then and now can guarantee you that I have waaaaayyy too much pent up energy that comes out as me being dramatic. It’d be stupid for me not to share!” You looked at home on his tv (something you almost always looked like, but still). They ended up watching every single episode that was posted that night. You were the main character’s love interest and Jimin was manly enough to admit that only a slight twinge of jealousy sprung up that night as he saw you kiss that actor over and over again.

The seventh time was your birthday. Hoseok, him, and two other members were trying to surprise you for it (something that they’d yet to learn would never work because you were just so sporadic and impulsive that getting you away or to the surprise location could never happen), but once they opened up the door they heard Dawon noona shouting “Give me my damn phone back!” as you cackled and sprinted around the small space, your feet slaming as you passed them, a pillow being lightly thrown in Dawon’s direction as she struggled to keep up with you.

“You’re a…” she huffed for air, “A role model! Act better!”

“¿Soy un ejemplo? ¡Mi nalgas! You just want me to be a submissive little-” There was a loud bang before Dawon sighed and they heard her say, “That’s why you don’t run on hardwood floor with fuzzy socks, yeodongsaeng. Now, get up and shower. We’re going to go out and grab some dinner to celebrate your birthday.”

“It’s my birthday?” You were careful with your shoulder the rest of the night and wore some gorgeous long sleeve dress to hide the blister red bump forming there, but Jimin still saw you as a shining star.

The eighth time was when Dawon had kicked you out of your joint apartment (you said something about you nearling setting your computer on fire and breaking all the ceramic cups if he remembered correctly) so you went to Bangtan’s dorm to spend the night on the couch. He felt bad because they didn’t have any extra space and no one wanted to give up their beds for you (especially Yoongi; he wouldn’t give up his bed even if the survival of the world relied on it). Jimin felt so guilty that he tried to stay up all night with you. It was nice to get to talk to you alone for once and he knew that after that night his feelings towards you would only grow exponentially. That night you two talked about everything and nothing (one of them being how you met Hoseok in grade school as you were the same age and all. You had just transferred schools and wanted to make a friend ASAP, so planned to become friends with the most popular person there… instead you befriended him). The entire night was full of light laughter and large smiles… well…

Until three am when he fell asleep and you, in a very sleepy state, snuck off to sleep in his bed. That morning the members laughed at Jimin for “how could he lose his bed to a girl?!”, but you weren’t just any girl to him. After a hectic day of practice and interviews (you had left shortly after you woke up because you were busy and “ain’t no way in hell that I will be spending twelve hours sitting on the floor of a dance studio. Nu-uh!”), Jimin curled up into his bed, the slight smell of you tickling his senses as a school boy like giggle left his lips at the thought of you sleeping in this exact bed as him.

The ninth time was planned (by a certain someone who was tired of hearing him gush about you and your acting). You two were meant to be meeting the Jung siblings at some ice cream parlor before laser tag, only to be ditched with a simple text message (if that alone was not a simple sign that they had planned that, the two also sent a text to their roommate respectively, saying the exact same thing… at the exact same time). Rest assured you guys screamed into the night, running through a deserted park together as you played tag… ditching the siblings for the rest of the night (later Jimin put all the blame on you, which wasn’t wrong). That night gave him so much joy that made him feel rejuvenated and new in the silence of the night, never to be heard of again and never to be spoken about again either.

The tenth time felt like an eternity later (but was really only four months later) on Christmas day. Both he and you were busy beyond control and while you did text nearly every day, it wasn’t the same. You were a calm texter, rational almost-- something he knew you were not. At all (In fact, when he was whining to Hoseok about that, the man agreed saying something along the lines of “I almost forgot how crazy she is. We’d only text while she was away, and that was through instagram”... coincidentally, that was also the day he found your social medias as well). While Dawon might’ve normally joined the band or flew home to Gwangju to spend time with the parent Jungs, she invited the members over. They ordered takeout and part way through a Disney movie marathon, you walked out of your room (more like pranced out, but still), and sat yourself down right on Jimin’s lap with a bowl of more popcorn. He was very caught up in the moment, and could only hear the beating of his own heart in his ears along with the faint shout “What?! I have popcorn and he’s in the middle! It is the smartest arrangement! Plus have you seen these thighs?! I swear to you they look like pillows! I mean, they’re less comfortable than I thought, but still!” It made his morning.

After they finished the movie they gathered into a somewhat-circle around the pine tree the two of you had somehow managed to get into the small apartment to give out presents (it was mostly you who begged, but you also had the most gifts to give out). You had insisted that everyone give out their gifts before you even thought of touching the large pile of gifts you had in a corner, something they begrudgingly did (He was super nervous because while he had gotten you a small gift, the small friendship bracelet was something he spend hours mulling over before he eventually decided on it). By the time it was your turn, you were literally jumping in your spot. You had given each and every one out (everyone but Jimin getting an actual gift, he was left with a little letter. The letter was mushy and adorable as you wrote about what you liked best in him before ending with the small line “So you’re going on a date with me. No choice.” And that lead to your eleventh time meeting as well.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my other work here!

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Like a Phoenix Part Two

A/N: Hello again, everybody! I’m back and with more written! Don’t hate us just yet! It gets worse! ;) (This is mostly filler, apologies, we just needed to finish the exposition to get the story going.)

Warnings: death, death talk, suicide talk, vomiting, food, unreality

Virgil internally sighed when he woke up. That was another terrifyingly real nightmare that had turned out to be nothing more than a dream. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He felt so lethargic...Roman was sitting on the edge of Virgil’s bed, pale and shaking. “Virgil?” he breathed.

“What’s up, Princey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Virgil yawned.

Roman crushed him in a hug and Virgil let out a small oof. “Don’t you dare do that again!” he ordered.

Virgil pulled out of the hug and frowned. “Do what?”

“You sliced your wrist open right in front of me!” Roman said. “I don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but you certainly succeeded in killing yourself! Your body disintegrated and you reformed in your bed!”

Huh. That’s strange...“I had a dream you killed yourself and you disintegrated, but you wouldn’t believe me. So to prove it to you, I...” the words died in Virgil’s throat.

Roman stared at him in horror. “You mean I really--” he said as Virgil asked, “That wasn’t a dream?!”

Virgil thought to himself. The memories leading up to him being in bed were disturbingly blank, aside from that dream. But in it...

He reached under his pillow and successfully pulled out the notebook he had put there, opening it up and paling at what he saw recorded. The date and time, along with a few words. Roman killed himself, before reappearing in bed with no memory of doing so. He’s convinced it’s a dream, but it was real. I know it was.

“I...I need...” Virgil said faintly. “I think I’m gonna...”

Roman had already picked him up and moved him to the ensuite, where Virgil promptly threw up into the toilet. Virgil’s stomach was still rolling as he gasped for air and Roman watched him carefully. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

“I...I don’t know,” Virgil admitted. “I...feel...weird.”

Roman rubbed circles on Virgil’s back. “It’s okay, Virgil. There is good news in all of this.”

Virgil scoffed. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“If one of us dies, we won’t be gone for very long!”

Virgil perked up. Oh. Oh that was true, wasn’t it? He didn’t have to worry about losing the others any more! He offered Roman a small smile. “Thanks, Roman, that made me feel better.”

Roman smiled softly and kissed Virgil’s temple. “It’s not a problem, my love. Shall we get dinner?”

Virgil nodded. “That sounds good. Especially because now I know for a fact my stomach is empty.”

Roman grinned and stood up, helping Virgil to his feet. “You clean up, I’ll start cooking?” he offered, starting to leave the room.

Virgil reached out suddenly and grabbed Roman’s hand. “Hey...promise me you’ll still be here when I’m done? You won’t try to kill yourself again or anything?”

“I promise,” Roman assured. “If I feel that bad I will come straight to you, deal?”

“Deal,” Virgil agreed.

Roman left, and Virgil quickly cleaned both himself and any traces of him getting sick. He didn’t want Logan or Patton to come in here and find vomit, then start worrying about what could be wrong with him.

Virgil’s mind was turning over these recent events, though...he couldn’t die. Not while Thomas was alive at any rate. And that would be cool. That would be useful in the right circumstances. But his mind kept drifting back to Roman. How desperate did you have to be in order to kill yourself to get away from your problems? How hopeless did you have to feel before...before not even your friends or lover were enough to keep you moving? And he had helped Roman feel that way. Even dating he made jibes at Roman to keep everything feeling normal, and though they didn’t have quite as much venom as they used to, was it still too much?

...Now Virgil was depressed.

He would put those thoughts aside for now. After all, Roman was making dinner. He walked out of the bathroom, out of his room, and to the kitchen, where Roman was humming a Disney tune as he greased a pan. It made Virgil smile at the sight. One thing he had failed to notice before, was that Roman had no ligature marks from where he had hung himself. It was like his old body was taken away, replaced with an undamaged model. It was creepy, but effective. No one would think anything was wrong.

“I can hear those gears turning in your head, my love. What’s going on?” Roman asked.

“Nothing,” Virgil said with a shrug. “Nothing of importance at least. What’s for dinner?”

“I was thinking pan-seared chicken. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said with a shrug. “Not sure how the other two love birds will feel being left out, though.”

“Oh, not to worry! I can make enough for them to have a dinner date elsewhere!” Roman assured.

“Just make sure you don’t burn anything,” Virgil snickered. “And be sure to add water when needed.”

“That was one time I forgot the water in the instant mac ‘n cheese! And I didn’t start a fire, did I?!” Roman cried indignantly.

“I guess not,” Virgil conceded. “Still, be careful. We can’t die, doesn’t mean we can’t get hurt.”

“On the subject of that...are we going to tell the others about this?”

“I don’t see why we should,” Virgil said with a shrug. “Not unless they try and hurt themselves. I mean, we’re the two highest risks for doing something stupid. I know you’ve done it, for all we know I’ve done it as well outside when I’m trying to make a point. Doing something like that would just...I don’t know, but it wouldn’t have good consequences, that’s for sure.”

Roman nodded. “We shall keep it to ourselves for now, then. Should we watch a movie after dinner?”

“Only if it’s Pixar,” Virgil said with a smile.

Roman gasped. “Oh, you wound me, my love! Why would you say Pixar and not Disney, when Disney is clearly superior?!”

“Disney is not superior,” Virgil scoffed. “And I just like watching Monster’s Inc., is that a crime?”

“Yes,” Roman said firmly, starting to cook.

Virgil snickered at Roman’s pout and thought to himself that Roman was just adorable. They had some things to worry about, but they always did. Their relationship was far from perfect. They just had...a slightly bigger concern now, that Virgil was going to firmly forget unless they needed to address it some time during this little dinner date.

Eventually Patton and Logan were coaxed out of wherever they were holed up by the smell of food. They took plates and left, leaving Roman and Virgil with the kitchen. As they ate, Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand and very gently brushed his fingers over the other’s knuckles. “I love you very much, Virgil, I hope you’ll remember that,” Roman said.

Virgil gave Roman a hesitant smile. It was things like that which would make Virgil blush, but also worry Roman was about to end it all because the pressure became too much. “I do, Roman. Trust me, I know you love me, and I love you too.”

Roman offered him a grin and they continued with dinner, watching a movie afterwards (they compromised by watching Lilo & Stitch, which neither of them would complain about; it was a good movie), and retiring to their separate beds. Virgil burrowed under his blankets, dimly aware that if this were a videogame, he would have just hit a checkpoint.

In fact, considering the day’s events, he might have just hit one anyway.

Tag List: @fandomsandanythingelse @analogicalisreal @storytellerofuntoldlegends @anxious-but-whatever @monikastec @darkle-elkrad @loganpatton @lilbeanblr @kittyboof8 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @sanders-trash-4ever @hamilspntrash

#death //#suicide //#emetophobia //#vomiting //#unreality //#food //#sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #like a phoenix #our creations

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hanny-writes-spn · 7 years

Text

Time Heals All

Word Count: 1792

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Loss of a fiance, mentions of canon type violence

A/N: This is my (very late) entry for @luci-in-trenchcoats 2K fic challenge!! My quote was, “I guess because every woman I’ve ever had relations with hasn’t ended well.” It’s bolded within this fic. Thank you so much Michelle for being so understanding and giving me an extension, and congratulations on 2K (and now 3K!!) :-)

Also, thank you to my wonderful betas @melonshino and @like-a-bag-of-potatoes! I don’t know what I would do without you two :-)

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

Nothing prepared you for a life of hunting.

It was thrust upon you when your fiance, Ryan, was attacked and killed by a werewolf during a camping trip, you were pushed into the life trying to get the revenge you felt he deserved. Sam and Dean Winchester were the reason you were alive and walked away from that dreadful night - that was the same night you struck up a deal with them. They agreed to help you end that werewolf, on the one condition that would be the only thing you would hunt. Ever.

Clearly, that agreement didn’t hold up.

You caught and killed the werewolf two years ago, but here you were, sitting next to Sam in the front seat of the Impala coming home from a simple salt and burn. You were letting your mind wander as you watched the dim lights of the night zoom past you, making you wonder what else was lurking in the darkness.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Sam nudged you gently. The concern in his eyes made you smile as you shrugged and nodded.

Your eyes lingered on him a little bit longer than you felt that they should have. Sam was incredibly easy on the eyes.

“Yeah, I’m just tired… how much longer until we get home?”

“About 10 hours or so. Depends how much I drive like Dean.”

You chuckled and looked at your watch. It was 2 AM and you really wanted a bed. Sure, you could in theory sleep anywhere (you had lost count the amount of times you slept in the back seat of the car) but tonight, a bed was calling your name.

“Do you mind if we stop for the night?”

You saw a sigh of relief leave Sam’s shoulders as he graciously nodded and pulled into the nearest motel parking lot. Sam started collecting your bags as you went to the front desk to buy a room for the night.

“Hi, can I get one room with two beds?” you asked groggily, taking out your credit card and running your fingers over the raised numbers. Using stolen credit cards always made you so paranoid.

After a few taps on the computer, the receptionist shook her head. “Sorry, sweetie. The only available room we have has one king sized bed.”

You stood and contemplated. Sharing a bed with Sam wouldn’t be the end of the world, right? You nodded and took the key from her hand and went to the room.

But as you paid you felt a little guilty doing so, yet you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why.

“I requested one room with one bed so I could finally fulfill my deepest, darkest fantasy of getting you into bed, Sam Winchester,” you joked with a wink, leading Sam to the motel room. Of course whenever you flirted with Sam it was done jokingly so, although sometimes you were serious.

He laughed aloud, like he always did when you flirted with him, but this time you swear you could have seen his cheeks flush.

“But seriously, this was all they had left… I hope you don’t mind.”

Sam just shrugged and gave you a weak smile in return. “No, that’s okay,” he barely said above a whisper.

Your relationship with Sam and Dean was brotherly, for the most part. They were your protectors, your friends, and your roommates. They held you when the nightmares came and you comforted them after bad hunts. You and Dean got along well right from the beginning, but with Sam you had to work for it.

From stories you heard from Cas, it was usually the other way around. Sam was usually the friendlier one, but for some reason with you, Dean opened up to you easier than Sam did.

Your theory as to why Dean was open to you was because you brought something helpful to the table - your computer skills were above average to say the least. You learned code at a young age and you were hacking into the FBI database by age 12. Dean was eager to let you help them through technology (as long as you stayed in the bunker, of course) and hesitantly agreed to let you go along on the smaller, less risky cases. It wasn’t like you really wanted to be out there hunting anyway - you didn’t want to be reminded of the horrors that took your fiance.

You considered Dean one of your best friends. He shared secrets with you that he rarely told anyone and he trusted you. You had never let the boys down before, and that meant a great deal to Dean.

Sam on the other hand was unsure about you working with them. You quickly learned that he wasn’t as fond of “the life” as Dean was and even without him telling you, you realized that he wanted you to go out and have a normal life. One that him and Dean never got the chance to have.

The boys never talked about it much, but just by the empty looks in their eyes, you could tell that they had experienced a lot of loss in their lives. Sam probably just didn’t want you to be another person he would have to add to his long list of people he loved who had died.

Sam was never rude to you by any means, but he just wouldn’t let you in. Whenever you would try to sit and have a friendly conversation with him, he would only politely reply and just continue to do his own thing.

But the fact that he agreed to go on this hunt with you was a big step in your relationship. And you were trying to keep every moment of the hunt light and relaxed.

After settling in and eating, you finally decided to take a shower after Sam took his. When you walked out into the main living space to grab some stuff you forgot from you bag, you could feel Sam’s eyes roam over your towel-covered body.

“Oh shoot… Hey, can I, erm… borrow one of your shirts? All of the ones I have in here are dirty.”

Sam nodded wordlessly before throwing you one, which you quickly went back to the bathroom to put on. You were confused by his demeanor change but just shrugged and went with it.

With wet hair and bare feet, you made your way into the king sized bed and propped yourself up with a pillow behind you. You had brought along a book from the Men of Letters library to lull yourself to sleep with.

You missed it, but Sam took a double take, taking a peek at you wearing his shirt. He shook his head quickly and turned so his back was facing you.

As you both laid next to each other, you suddenly realized that this was the first time since your fiance died that you were about to sleep next to another man. That thought sent a horrible sinking feeling into your stomach, reminding you of your beloved. You realized that was probably why you had felt so guilty when buying the room in the first place.

Ryan was the last thing on your mind before you drifted off to sleep.

...

You woke up screaming and sweaty.

It was a recurring nightmare that you had a lot right after Ryan’s death. It was basically the exact same thing that happened, but this time you were getting ripped apart by the werewolf as well.

Sam placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, urging your body closer to his chest.

“It’s okay Y/N, I’m right here… you’re safe,” Sam whispered. He didn’t even have to ask what the nightmare was, as he knew from experience that it was the one about Ryan.

You caught your breath for a moment, enjoying the warmth radiating off of Sam’s bare chest.

“You haven’t had one of those dreams in a while…” Sam said after a minute.

Still out of breath and unable to talk, you just nodded against him. His hard pecs swelled up and he blew out a deep sigh before he started talking again.

“Have I ever told you about Jess?”

You pulled away so you could look at him. You were met with his sad, hazel eyes looking back at you, pitying you. Dean had mentioned that Jess was Sam’s girlfriend in college, but never elaborated further on it.

“No… who’s Jess?”

“She was my girlfriend in college. She uh, was the love of my life… When I tried to get out of this life, she was my rock. I really thought I was going to marry her, until…” he paused and you could see that he was tearing up. “She died. She died because of what I do… what we do, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you did the best that you could. You comforted him by grabbing onto his hand and rubbing little circled over the top of it.

“Sam, I am so sorry…” you whispered. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

“I’ve had a hard time opening up to you, Y/N… I don’t think that’s a secret. Ever since Jess, I haven’t had a lot of girlfriends, but the ones that I have had… something bad has always happened. And when you came into our lives, I was worried. Worried that those same bad things would happen to you if I let myself fall for you. I guess because every woman I’ve ever had relations with hasn’t ended well. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“But Sam, I’m… We’re not dating.”

Sam gave your hand a little squeeze. “I know, I know, but… I wouldn’t mind if someday we gave us a chance.”

You pulled away from him and stood up from the bed. “Okay, uh…” you stuttered out as you ran your fingers through your hair. “I don’t know about that, Sam.”

Sam followed you, putting your hands in his once again. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Y/N… I know you feel the same way…”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing a couple of tears out. “I’m… not ready, Sam,” you looked up at him with sorrow in your eyes.

“I’m done being scared, Y/N. I’ll wait for you and I’ll be here for you for as long as it takes for you to be ready.”

You initiated the next hug as you both stood wordlessly in the dark hotel room, holding on to each other as if you were afraid if you didn’t, you would fall apart.

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