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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months

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The Danger Zone - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Implied Sexual Content; Suggestive Situations; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Your relationship with Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn't easily defined. But with some unexpected news, you might have to put a label on it soon.

Series Master List

Master List

Growing up with an overprotective older brother and an overprotective father figure, you learned how to be sneaky from a rather young age. It just was not worth the shovel talk every single time that you wanted to go out on a date. You decided a long time ago that what Bradley and Mav didn’t know wouldn’t kill them.

And in your current predicament, what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill Jake either.

“Goddamn, Cow Girl,” Jake breathed out with a throaty laugh as he trailed his hand up and down your back. “What a ride.”

“You say that like you did any of the work,” you huffed, picking your head up from his chest. Narrowing your eyes at him playfully, you sat up further and shook your head as Jake’s eye’s immediately dropped to your breasts. “Pillow Princess.”

“I’ll make it up to you next time,” Jake replied with that usual cocky shit-eating grin. Squeezing your hips, he locked eyes with you once again. “A repeat of that weekend up at that beach house with that private balcony.” Sitting up himself, Jake leaned in closer so that your noses brushed. “I had to carry you inside after that, if I remember correctly.”

“You remember everything that boosts your own ego,” you replied, trying to slide off of him. Jake, however, instantly reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back to his side. Letting out a semi-annoyed laugh, you looked back at him over your shoulder. “Jake, I have to go.”

“They can figure it out without you.”

“They can’t fit my dress to me without me.”

“They’ll figure it out.” Rolling over to try and keep you in his bed for another hour, Jake hovered over you and stared down at your face, like he was trying to memorize it. “Stay.”

“Oh, so now you want to be on top?” you joked, though Jake wasn’t laughing. Sending him a softer look, you sighed. “I have to go. I’m the maid of honor. And Nat will kill the both of us if I’m late for this. You know that.”

“She’s honestly turning into a bridezilla,” Jake stated, causing you to shoot him a dirty look.

“Maybe because the best man keeps fucking up all of her plans.”

“I’m just trying to improve them,” Jake drawled, earning an eye roll from you.

“Right. Well, I need to go before you ‘improve’ Nat’s wedding by taking out her maid of honor.”

Rolling out from underneath Jake, you stood up from his bed and headed into the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up quickly and managing to brush your hair down, you walked over to where your clothes were scattered on the ground of Jake’s bedroom.

“I can’t wait until this wedding is over,” Jake sighed, watching reluctantly as you put your clothes on. “Everyone’s so stressed about it. Javy’s been working on his vows for weeks and he’s gotten one word written.”

“What word?”

“Nat,” Jake explained, causing you to laugh.

“Poor Javy,” you laughed, buttoning up your shirt. Walking back to where Jake was sitting on the edge of his bed, you leaned down so that you were eye level with him with a soft smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tonight?” Jake tried to convince you.

“I’ll text you when I’m done,” you offered, earning a kiss from Jake. “It could be a while though.”

“I’m a patient man,” Jake replied as you headed out of his bedroom.

“We both know that’s a lie.”

~~~~~

Your sister-in-law offered to go first for her fitting, leaving you and Phoenix on the couch at the back of the dress shop. Phoenix waited until the door shut to the fitting room before turning to you with a knowing look.

“You were with Bagman, weren’t you?”

“Emma is right there,” you shushed Phoenix, glancing over at your sister-in-law’s fitting room. “And the last thing that I need is my brother finding out.”

“Emma’s not a snitch,” Phoenix dismissed, still wearing that knowing look. “And besides, it’s not like the two of you are subtle.” Phoenix shook her head and glanced around the room. “I’m still scarred from seeing that shit.”

“And I’ve apologized at least fifteen times.”

“He hasn’t,” Phoenix muttered back.

“He’s just an exhibitionist,” you mumbled, waving your hand to the side.

“He’s going to get the two of you caught by someone who’s not going to react as well as Javy and I did,” Phoenix stated, causing you to wince and subconsciously run a hand through your hair to make sure that it didn’t look too much like sex hair. “Did you at least talk to him about defining whatever the hell it is you two have going on?”

“Well . . .” Phoenix groaned on your behalf, causing you to jitter nervously. “What? What’s wrong with just having fun?”

“Let me ask you one question,” Phoenix stated, turning to face you fully. “If Hangman hooked up with another woman, would you be upset?” Before you could even verbally respond, your face gave away your answer. “Exactly. So, you need to have that talk. For your own sanity.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “I’ll talk to him. After your wedding. Because I am absolutely focused on your wedding from now until you leave for your honeymoon.”

“I appreciate that,” Phoenix replied calmly with a small smile. “But just be careful with Hangman, okay? He doesn’t exactly have the best reputation with committed relationships. Or any kind of relationship, really.”

“Can’t people change?” you suggested, causing Phoenix to shrug her shoulders.

“If they want to, I guess.”

Before you could respond, Emma walked out of the changing room, all done with her fitting. The seamstress walked off with Emma’s dress in hand to put it away and grab yours as Emma walked over to where you and Phoenix were sitting.

“You alright?” Emma asked you. “You look stressed.”

“I’m fine,” you assured your sister-in-law with a small smile.“How’s the house coming? Did Bradley finally take the stick out of his ass about it?”

“It took some back and forth but they agreed to fix the plumbing problems and the air conditioner and we should all set to close and finally move in sometime next month. And I really hope that it works out. I feel so bad taking over Mav’s house,” Emma stated, sitting down on your other side.

“Mav doesn’t mind. He’d let you move in permanently if it was what you wanted.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that Bradley wouldn’t go for that,” Emma laughed, probably picturing your brother’s annoyed face. “He said that he feels like a teenager again.”

“Well, he acts like one half the time anyways,” you joked, wearing that classic little sister smirk.

“And he has to make sure that Mav is at least a five mile radius away before he touches me. Something about a traumatic experience.”

“Oh, yeah, he got caught by Mav with his high school girlfriend when they were sixteen because he’s an idiot and mixed up the days that Mav was supposed to be working late,” you explained, remembering how Bradley wouldn’t even look at Mav for a week after that. “And she dumped him too, I think, because she was too embarrassed.”

“How the hell have you survived the three months then?” Phoenix asked, doing the math.

“We’ve taken a lot of long car rides,” Emma replied with a smirk, causing you to gag.

“Oh, my fucking—I’m leaving,” you stated, getting up from the couch. “Remind me to never step foot into the Bronco ever again. Disgusting.”

“What about you?” Emma asked, turning back to you. “Going to show up to the wedding with a hot date that you haven’t told anyone about?”

“Why would I do that?” you asked, turning back to your sister-in-law.

“You don’t think that anyone’s noticed? You showed up to the Hard Deck one night with a hickey right under your collar.”

“Are you ready for your fitting?” the seamstress asked, causing you to look away from Emma.

“Yes, please,” you agreed, walking over to her. Turning back to Emma and Phoenix, you shrugged your shoulders innocently. “Sorry, I have to go.”

The seamstress led you back into the fitting room. Pulling on the blue bridesmaid dress that you ordered months ago, you held it to your chest as the seamstress did up the back of the dress. But you winced as she tugged on the string, tightening your dress uncomfortably around your midriff and breasts.

“Hmm,” she murmured to herself, loosening the fabric. “A little tight.”

“Just a little,” you murmured stiffly, trying to adjust the top of the dress.

“Maybe they took your measurements wrong,” the seamstress replied, which is probably what she told everyone that gained weight right before a fitting. “It’s no problem. We will just loosen it here in the back.”

“Yeah, that should work,” you agreed softly, staring nervously at your reflection in the mirror.

~~~~~

After you finished up with the dress fittings, Emma insisted that you come back to Maverick’s house for dinner. And even though you were very much interested in going to see Jake again, you agreed since you hadn’t seen your brother or Mav for about a week now. Pulling into the familiar driveway right behind Emma, you followed her inside. Your brother Rooster was in the kitchen, cooking something that you couldn’t yet see.

“I’m home!” Emma called, causing Rooster to pick his head up and smile.

“Hey, baby,” he returned happily, pulling Emma in for a kiss.

“Please don’t make out in front of me,” you huffed dramatically, hanging up your purse and covering your eyes.

“Don’t look,” Rooster replied back to you, releasing his wife.

“Hey, did you finish up those lesson plans with Hangman?” Emma asked, glancing over the food that Rooster was preparing.

“No. The dickhead keeps dragging his ass about it,” Rooster complained, causing you to glance out the window. “He’s been a bigger pain in the ass than usual.”

“Just be glad that he promised to not have Javy’s bachelor party in Vegas,” Emma reminded Rooster, bumping his hip with her own. “And that he swore to all of you guys that there would be no strippers at the party.”

“Shocking considering the company that he usually keeps,” Rooster muttered, causing you to pause, taken aback by your brother’s words. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that Nat would have actually strangled him if he got a stripper.” Rooster glanced between you and his wife. “You guys were smart to do the bachelorette party earlier.”

Rooster reached over and grabbed the cover on the pot of whatever he was cooking and in an instant, the smell hit you like a ton of bricks. Covering your mouth with your hand as your stomach rolled dangerously, you reached quickly for the door to the backyard.

“Jesus, you look ill,” Rooster commented, earning a sharp look from his wife.

“What—” Emma called, walking after you, but you were already bent over.

Emptying what little was left in your stomach onto the ground out behind Mav’s deck, you coughed and gagged as more threatened to come up.

“Jesus Christ, are you okay!?” Emma yelled, rushing to your side. “You looked a little flushed at the dress shop, but now I think you’re really sick.”

“It was just fish,” Rooster insisted, stepping out onto the back porch.

“Fuck off, Brad—oh shit.”

You gripped the edge of the deck harshly, trying to keep what was left in your stomach there. Sweat was starting to drip down your forehead as your stomach rolled again. Emma, unlike your brother, was helpful and brushed your hair out of your face.

“What did you eat earlier?” Emma asked, waving at her husband to bring some water.

“Nothing strange,” you replied, gasping a bit. “Just my normal stuff.”

“Maybe something went bad.”

“Jesus, what the hell do you have?” he asked, resting a hand on your back as he brought you a glass of water.

“The urge to push you over the side,” you muttered, glaring over at your brother.

“What the hell’s going on?” Maverick questioned, walking around the side of the house.

“Nothing, Mav,” you insisted, taking the tissue from Rooster’s hand. “Just Rooster’s cooking all over again.”

“You didn’t even eat anything. It was just the smell that set you off.”

“Probably because you’re a horrible cook,” you muttered, wiping the spit off of your face. “Sorry about that, Mav.”

“I’ll just wash it away with water,” Maverick insisted, hopping up onto the deck. “Are you sure that you’re feeling alright? Did you need a ride home?”

“No, no, I'll just drink some water and I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I think that seamstress just yanked my dress a little too tight and wobbled up my stomach,” you laughed off, trying not to worry your family. “I’ll be fine.”

You ended up staying for a few more minutes, but the smell came to be too much and Maverick drove you home, picking up some broth and ginger ale for you on the way. While he was inside the grocery store, you shot Jake a quick text.

Sorry, I think I’m coming down with something. I won’t be making it over.

After about five seconds, your phone buzzed with Jake’s reply.

Did you want me to come over and take care of you?

You stared down at your phone for a moment before you noticed that Maverick was already walking out of the store and back to your car.

Mav’s here. I’ll be fine. Thanks tho.

~~~~~

It was a few days before Phoenix and Coyote’s wedding, and despite your sudden illness, you quickly recovered. You went over to Jake’s place like you planned the next day and acted like nothing was wrong in the first place. Though when you mentioned that to Penny during your weekly chat, she seemed concerned.

“Just the smell of the fish caused you to throw up?” Penny asked as you walked down the boardwalk together.

“Yeah, but you haven’t seen his usual mess,” you brushed off, not concerned. “He was an absolute trash chef until he met Emma. And now he’s just a slightly less terrible chef.”

“Have you been throwing up recently? Or nauseous?”

“A little here and there with nausea but I haven’t thrown up since that night. But it’s probably just the wedding. Everyone’s on edge about it and I'm the maid of honor. It’s a lot of stress.”

“Definitely,” Penny asked, part of her brain telling her to just leave her hunch alone. You were an adult. You could handle yourself. But then those maternal instincts kicked in. “Any other symptoms that’ve been bothering you?”

“No,” you insisted, laughing off Penny’s concern. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just that with you throwing up just because of the smell of something and you said that you’ve been feeling randomly nauseous lately . . .” Penny trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence but when you didn’t finish it on your own, she continued. “You’re sure that there aren’t any other symptoms?”

“Penny, are you asking me if I’m pregnant?” you asked, turning to face her.

“I mean, is there a chance?”

“I’m on birth control,” you insisted quietly.

“And you’ve never missed a pill?”

“Well . . .” Grabbing your purse nervously, you glanced up and down the boardwalk and turned back to Penny. “Maybe one or two.”

“That happens,” Penny assured you, putting up a brave face. “But if there’s no other symptoms, then I’m sure you’re fine.”

“My dress was a little tight at my fitting,” you added, causing Penny to pause. “But that could just be my weight fluctuating with stress and everything.”

“Of course with the wedding and everything,” Penny agreed, nodding along. “And besides, you use other protection, right?”

“Oh, yeah . . .” you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. Because there were more than a few times that you and Jake didn’t bother to use a condom. “Most of the time.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two of you before you pulled out your keys. Wordlessly, Penny grabbed your shoulder supportively and the two of you turned for the car. You drove down the road to the pharmacy, grabbed a handful of tests, and returned to the Hard Deck. Penny let you into her private bathroom next to her office and handed you the bag.

“It’s just a precaution,” Penny told you, trying to keep you calm.

“It’s just a precaution,” you repeated softly.

Penny sat behind her desk, pretending to do work while her brain moved a thousand miles a minute. The first question was, of course, who the father would be if you were pregnant. And Penny had a guess. A pretty good guess. She saw all and she saw the way that you hung off of Hangman’s arm on the back deck one night when you thought no one was watching. And she saw the way that Hangman’s eyes just seemed to naturally trail after you.

But she shouldn’t get ahead of herself. She didn’t even know that you were pregnant yet.

The door to the bathroom opened a few minutes later and you slowly stepped out, holding three different white plastic tests in your shaking hands. Staring down at the tests for a moment, you finally turned to look up at Penny.

“Well?” she asked, getting up from behind her desk and walking over to you.

Silently, you handed the tests to Penny. She glanced down at the tests as you felt your stomach roll again. Dropping your purse, you turned and hurried into the bathroom. Penny dropped the tests and hurried after you, pulling back your hair as you heaved.

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shuxiii · 11 months

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Everyday pt.4

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13

a/n I know some idols have no siblings but pretend they have in this one because I am lazy, still all credits to ''every day'' by David Levithan meow

Day 5999

My mind is thoroughly wrung out, but I can tell Haruto Watanabe has gotten a good night’s sleep.

Haruto is a good guy. Everything in his room is in order. Even though it’s only Saturday morning, he’s already done his homework for the weekend. He’s set his alarm for eight o’clock, not wanting the day to go to waste. He was probably in bed by ten.

I go on his computer and check my email, making sure to write myself some notes about the last few days, so I can remember them. Then I log in to Minji’s email and find out there’s a party tonight at Huh Yunjin’s house. Yunjin’s address is only a Google search away. When I map out the distance between Haruto’s house and Yunjin’s, I find it’s only a ninety-minute drive.

It looks like Haruto might be going to a party tonight.

First, I must convince his parents.

His mother interrupts me when I’m back on my own email, rereading what I wrote about the day with Hanni. I very quickly shut the window, and oblige when she tells me that today is not a computer day, and that I am to come down for breakfast.

I very quickly discover that Haruto’s parents are a very nice couple who make it very clear that their niceness shouldn’t be challenged or pressed.

“Can I borrow the car?” I ask. “The school musical is tonight, and I would like to go see it.”

“Have you done your homework?”

I nod.

“Your chores?”

“I will.”

“And you’ll be back by midnight?”

I nod. I decide not to mention to them that if I’m not back by midnight, I’ll be ripped from my current body. I don’t think they’d find that reassuring.

It’s clear to me that they won’t need the car tonight. They are the type of parents who don’t believe in having a social life. They have television instead.

I spend most of the day doing chores. After I’m done with them and have had a family dinner, I’m good to go.

The party’s supposed to start at seven, so I know I have to wait until nine to show up, so there will be enough people there to hide my presence. If I get there and it ends up being open to only a dozen kids, I’ll have to turn back around. But that doesn’t strike me as Minji’s kind of party.

Haruto’s kind of party, I’m guessing, involves board games and Dr Pepper. As I drive back to Hanni’s town, I access some of his memories. I am a firm believer that every person, young or old, has at least one good story to tell. Haruto’s, however, is pretty hard to find. The only tremor of emotion I can find in his life is when he was nine and his dog April died. Ever since then, nothing seems to have disturbed him too much. Most of his memories involve homework. He has friends, but they don’t do very much outside of school. When Little League was over, he gave up sports. He has never, from what I can tell, sipped anything stronger than a beer, and even that was during a Father’s Day barbecue, at his uncle’s prodding.

Normally, I would take these as parameters. Normally, I would stay within Haruto’s safe zone.

But not today. Not with a chance of seeing Hanni again.

I remember yesterday, and how the trail that got me through the darkness seemed to be attached in some way to her. It’s as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I’ve gotten it backward, maybe it’s just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don’t think that’s it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn’t happened to meet her.

Now I’m letting my life hijack these other lives for a day. I am not staying within their parameters. Even if that’s dangerous.

I’m at Huh Yunjin’s house by eight, but Minji’s car is nowhere in sight. In fact, there aren’t that many cars out in front. So I wait and watch. After a while, people start arriving. Even though I’ve just spent a day and a half at their school, I don’t recognize any of them. They were all peripheral.

Finally, just after nine-thirty, Minji’s car pulls up. Hanni is with her, as I’d hoped she’d be. As they head in, she walks a little bit in front, with her a little behind. I get out of my car and follow them inside.

I’m worried there will be someone at the door, but the party’s already spiraled into its own form of chaos. The early guests are well past the point of drunkenness, and everyone else is quickly catching up. I know I look out of place—Haruto’s wardrobe is more suited to a debate tournament than a Saturday night house party. But nobody really cares; they’re too caught up in each other or themselves to notice a random geek in their midst.

The lights are dim, the music is loud, and Hanni is hard to find. But just the fact that I am in the same place as her has me nervously exhilarated.

Minji is in the kitchen, talking with some guys. She looks at ease, in her element. She finishes one beer and immediately goes for another.

I push past her, push through the living room and find myself in the den. The instant I step in the room, I know she’s here. Even though the music’s blaring from a laptop connected to some speakers, she’s over by the CD collection, thumbing through cases. Two girls are talking nearby, and I have a sense that at one point she was a part of their conversation, then decided to drop out.

I walk over and see that one of the CDs she’s looking at has a song we listened to on our car ride.

“I really like them,” I say, gesturing to the CD. “Do you?”

She startles, as if this is a quiet room and I am a sudden noise. I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.

“Yeah,” she says. “I like them, too.”

I start to sing the song, the one from the car. Then I say, “I like that one in particular.”

“Do I know you?” she asks.

“I’m Haruto,” I say, which isn’t a no or a yes.

“I’m Hanni,” she says.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks. I used to hate it, but I don’t so much anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a pain to spell.” She looks at me closely. “Do you go to Octavian?”

“No. I’m just here for the weekend. Visiting my cousin.”

“Who’s your cousin?”

“Yunjin.”

This is a dangerous lie, since I have no idea which of the person is Yunjin, and I have no way of accessing the information.

“Oh, that explains it.”

She is starting to drift away from me, just as I imagine she drifted away from the girls talking next to us.

“I hate my cousin,” I say.

This gets her attention.

“I hate the way she treats girls. I hate the way she thinks she can buy all her friends by throwing parties like this. I hate the way that she only talks to you when she needs something. I hate the way she doesn’t seem capable of love.”

I realize I’m now talking about Minji, not Yunjin.

“Then why are you here?” Hanni asks.

“Because I want to see it fall apart. Because when this party gets busted—and if it stays this loud, it will get busted—I want to be a witness. From a safe distance away, of course.”

“And you’re saying she’s incapable of loving Kazuha? They’ve been going out for over a year.”

With a silent apology to Kazuha and Yunjin, I say, “That doesn’t mean anything, does it? I mean, being with someone for over a year can mean that you love them… but it can also mean you’re trapped.”

At first, I think I’ve gone too far. I can feel Hanni taking in my words, but I don’t know what she’s doing with them. The sound of words as they’re said is always different from the sound they make when they’re heard because the speaker hears some of the sounds from the inside.

Finally, she says, “Speaking from experience?”

It’s laughable to think that Haruto—who, from what I can tell, hasn’t gone on a date since eighth grade—would be speaking from experience. But she doesn’t know him, which means I can be more like me. Not that I’m speaking from experience, either. Just the experience of observing.

“There are many things that can keep you in a relationship,” I say. “Fear of being alone. Fear of disrupting the arrangement of your life. A decision to settle for something that’s okay, because you don’t know if you can get any better. Or maybe there’s the irrational belief that it will get better, even if you know he won’t change.”

“He’?”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

At first I don’t understand what she sees—clearly, I was talking about her. Then I get where the pronoun has led her.

“That cool?” I ask, figuring it will make Haruto even less threatening if he’s gay.

“Completely.”

“How about you?” I ask. “Seeing anyone?”

“Yeah,” she says. Then, deadpan, “For over a year.”

“And why are you still together? Fear of being alone? A decision to settle? An irrational belief that he’ll change?”

“Yes. Yes. And yes.”

“So…”

“But he can also be incredibly sweet. And I know that, deep down, I mean the world to him.”

“Deep down? That sounds like settling to me. You shouldn’t have to venture deep down in order to get to love.”

“Let’s switch the topic, okay? This isn’t a good party topic. I liked it more when you were singing to me.”

I’m about to make reference to another song we heard on our car ride—hoping that maybe it’ll bring her back in some way—when Minji’s voice comes from over my shoulder, asking, “So who’s this?” If she was relaxed when I saw her in the kitchen, now she’s annoyed.

“Don’t worry, Minji,” Hanni says. “He’s gay.”

“Yeah, I can tell from the way he’s dressed. What are you doing here?”

“Haruto, this is Minji, my girlfriend. Minji, this is Haruto.”

I say hi. She doesn’t respond.

“You seen Kazuha?” she asks Hanni. “Yunjin’s looking for her. I think they’re at it again.”

“Maybe she went to the basement.”

“Nah. They’re dancing in the basement.”

Hanni likes this news, I can tell.

“Want to go down there and dance?” she asks Minji.

“Hell no! I didn’t come here to dance. I came here to drink.”

“Charming,” Hanni says, more (I think) for my benefit than her. “Do you mind if I go dance with Haruto?”

“You sure he’s gay?”

“I’ll sing you show tunes if you want me to prove it,” I volunteer.

Minji slaps me on the back. “No, bro, don’t do that, okay? Go dance.”

So that’s how it comes to pass that Hanni is leading me to Huh Yunjin’s basement. As we hit the stairs, we can feel the bass under our feet. It’s a different soundtrack here—a tide of pulse and beat. Only a few red lights are on, so all we can see are the outlines of bodies as they meld together.

“Hey, Yunjin!” Hanni calls out. “I like your cousin!”

A girl who must be Yunjin looks at her and nods. Whether she can’t hear what she’s said or whether she’s trashed, I can’t tell.

“Have you seen Kazuha?” she yells.

“No!” Hanni yells back.

Then we’re in with the dancers. The sad truth is that I have about as much experience on a dance floor as Haruto does. I try to lose myself in the music, but that doesn’t work. Instead, I need to lose myself in Hanni. I have to give myself over entirely to her—I must be her shadow, her complement, the other half of this conversation of bodies. As she moves, I move with her. I touch her back, her waist. She comes in closer.

By losing myself to her, I gain her. The conversation is working. We have found our rhythm and we are riding it. I find myself singing along, singing to her, and she loves it. She transforms once again into someone carefree, and I transform into someone whose only care is her.

“You’re not bad!” she shouts over the music.

“You’re amazing!” I shout back.

I know that Minji is not coming down here. She is safe with Huh Yunjin’s gay cousin, and I am safe knowing that nobody else will interfere with this moment. The songs collide into one long song—as if one singer is taking over when the previous one stops, all of them taking turns to give us this. The sound waves push us into each other, wrap around us like colors. We are paying attention to each other and we are paying attention to the enormity. The room has no ceiling; the room has no walls. There is only the open field of our excitement, and we run across it in small movements, sometimes without our feet leaving the ground. We go for what feels like hours and also feels like no time at all. We go until the music stops, until someone turns on the lights and says the party is ending, that the neighbors have complained and the police are probably coming.

Hanni looks as disappointed as I feel.

“I have to find Minji,” she says. “Are you going to be okay?”

No, I want to tell her. I won’t be okay until you can come with me to wherever it is that I’m going next.

I ask her for her email address, and when she raises an eyebrow, I tell her again not to worry, that I’m still gay.

“That’s too bad,” she says. I want her to say more, but then she’s giving me her email address, and in response I’m giving her a fake email address that I’ll have to set up as soon as I get home.

People are starting to run from the house. Sirens can be heard in the distance, probably waking up as many people as the party has. Hanni leaves me to find Minji, promising me that she’ll be the one to drive. I don’t see them as I run to my car. I know it’s late, but I don’t know how late it is until I turn on the car and look at the clock.

11:15.

There’s no way I’ll get there in time.

Seventy miles an hour.

Eighty miles an hour.

Eighty-five.

I drive as fast as I can, but it’s not fast enough.

At 11:50, I pull over to the side of the road. If I close my eyes, I should be able to fall asleep before midnight. That is the blessing of what I have to go through—I am able to fall asleep in minutes.

Poor Haruto Watanabe. He is going to wake up on the side of an interstate, an hour away from his home. I can only imagine how terrified he’ll be.

I am a monster for doing this to him.

But I have my reason.

Day 6000

It’s time for Yoon Kee Ho to go to church.

I quickly dress myself in his Sunday best, which either he or his mother conveniently left out the night before. Then I go downstairs and have breakfast with his mother and his three sisters. There’s no father in sight. It doesn’t take much accessing to know he left just after the youngest daughter was born, and it’s been a struggle for their mom ever since.

There’s only one computer in the house, and I have to wait until Keeho’s mother is getting the girls ready to go before I can quickly boot it up and create the email address I gave Hanni last night. I can only hope that she hasn’t tried to get in touch with me already.

Keeho's name is being called—it’s church time. I sign off, clear the history, and join my sisters in the car. It takes me a few minutes to get their names straight—Pam is eleven, Lacey is ten, and Jenny is eight. Only Jenny seems excited about going to church.

When we get there, the girls head off to Sunday school while I join Keeho’s mother in the main congregation. I prepare myself for a Baptist service and try to remember what makes it different from the other church services I’ve been to.

I have been to many religious services over the years. Each one I go to only reinforces my general impression that religions have much, much more in common than they like to admit. The beliefs are almost always the same; it’s just that the histories are different. Everybody wants to believe in a higher power. Everybody wants to belong to something bigger than themselves, and everybody wants company in doing that. They want there to be a force of good on earth, and they want an incentive to be a part of that force. They want to be able to prove their belief and their belonging, through rituals and devotion. They want to touch the enormity.

It’s only in the finer points that it gets complicated and contentious, the inability to realize that no matter what our religion or gender or race or geographic background, we all have about 98 percent in common with each other. Yes, the differences between male and female are biological, but if you look at the biology as a matter of percentage, there aren’t a whole lot of things that are different. Race is different purely as a social construction, not as an inherent difference. And religion—whether you believe in God or Yahweh or Allah or something else, odds are that at heart you want the same things. For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that’s different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that.

The only way I can navigate through my life is because of the 98 percent that every life has in common.

I think of this as I go through the rituals of a Sunday morning at church. I keep looking at Keeho’s mother, who is so tired, so taxed. I feel as much belief in her as I do in God—I find faith in human perseverance, even as the universe throws challenge after challenge our way. This might be one of the things I saw in Hanni, too—her desire to persevere.

After church, we head to Keeho’s grandmother’s house for Sunday dinner. There’s no computer, and even if it weren’t a three-hour drive away, there wouldn’t be any way for me to get to Hanni. So I take it as a day of rest. I play games with my sisters and make a ring of hands with the rest of my family when it’s time to say grace.

The only discord comes when we’re driving home and a fight breaks out in the backseat. As sisters, they probably have closer to 99 percent in common, but they’re not about to recognize that. They’d rather fight over what kind of pet they’re going to get … even though I’m not sensing any indication from their mother that a pet is in their near future. It’s an argument for its own sake.

When we get home, I bide my time before asking if I can use the computer. It’s in a very public place, and I will need everyone to be in another room in order to check my email. While the three girls run around, I retire to Keeho’s room and do his weekend homework the best that I can. I am banking on the fact that Keeho has a later bedtime than his sisters, and in this I am correct. After Sunday supper, the girls get an hour of television in the same room as the computer. Then Keeho’s mother tells them it’s time to get ready for bed. There’s much protest, but it falls on deaf ears. This is its own kind of ritual, and Mom always wins.

While Keeho’s mother is getting the girls into their pajamas and getting out their clothes for tomorrow, I have a few minutes on my own. I quickly check the email I set up in the morning, and there’s no message from Hanni yet. I decide it can’t hurt to be proactive here, so I type in her address and start an email before I can stop myself.

Hi Hanni,

I just wanted to say that it was lovely meeting you and dancing with you last night. I’m sorry the police came and separated us. Even though you’re not my type, gender-wise, you’re certainly my type, person-wise. Please keep in touch.

That seems safe enough to me. Clever, but not self-congratulatorially so. Sincere, but not overbearing. It’s only a few lines, but I reread it at least a dozen times before I hit send. I let go of the words and wonder what words will come back. If any.

Bedtime seems to be taking a while—it sounds like there’s some argument about which chapter their read-aloud left off on—so I load up my personal email.

Such an ordinary gesture. One click, and the instant appearance of the inbox, in all its familiar rows.

But this time it’s like walking into a room and finding a bomb right in the middle of it.

There, under a bookstore newsletter, is an incoming message from none other than Haruto Watanabe.

The subject line is WARNING.

I read:

I don’t know who you are or what you are or what you did to me yesterday, but I want you to know you won’t get away with it. I will not let you possess me or destroy my life. I will not remain quiet. I know what happened and I know you must be in some way responsible. Leave me alone. I am not your host.

“Are you okay?”

I turn and find Keeho’s mother in the doorway.

“I’m fine,” I say, positioning myself in front of the screen.

“Alright, then. You have ten minutes more, then I want you to help me unload the dishwasher and head to bed. We have a long week ahead of us.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I turn back to the email. I don’t know how to respond, or if I should respond. I have a vague recollection of Haruto’s mother interrupting me while I was on the computer—I must have closed the window without clearing the history. So when Haruto loaded up his email, it must have been my address that popped up. But he doesn’t know my password, so the account itself should be safe. Just in case, though, I know I need to change my password and move all my old emails, quick.

I will not remain quiet.

I wonder what this means.

I can’t forward all my old emails in the ten minutes that I have, but I start to make a dent in them.

“Keeho!”

Keeho’s mother calls me and I know I have to go. But clearing the history and turning off the computer can’t stop my thoughts. I think about Haruto waking up on the side of the road. I try to imagine what he must have felt. But the truth is, I don’t know. Did he feel like it was something he had gotten himself into? Or did he immediately know that something was wrong, that someone else had been in control? Was he sure of this when he went to his computer and saw my email address?

Who does he think I am?

What does he think I am?

I head into the kitchen and Keeho’s mother gives me another look of concern. She and Keeho are close, I can tell. She knows how to read her son. Over the years, they’ve been there for each other. He’s helped raise his sisters. And she’s raised him.

If I really were Keeho, I could tell her everything. If I really were Keeho, no matter how hard it was to understand, she would be on my side. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

But I am not really her son, or anyone’s son. I can’t disclose what’s bothering Keeho today, because it doesn’t have much bearing on who he’ll be tomorrow. So I brush off his mother’s concern, tell her it’s no big deal, then help her take the dishes out of the dishwasher. We work in quiet camaraderie until the task is done, and sleep calls.

For a while, though, I can’t go to sleep. I lie in bed, stare at the ceiling. This is the irony: Even though I wake up in a different body every morning, I’ve always felt in some way that I am in control.

But now I don’t feel in control at all.

Now there are other people involved.

#Hanni x reader #Hanni Pham #Pham Hanni #Hanni Pham x reader #newjeans #newjeans fanfic #hanni pham #new jeans #nwjns #NewJeans Imagines #Newjeans imagine #Newjean Fanfic #NewJeans Fanfic #newjeans fic #newjeans imagine #Newjeans x reader

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

Text

Hiiii! Here I am again!! Ready for another chapter? Let's see what going to happen with our favorite Farmer!

I hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

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The Farmer.

John Rollins x FemReader

Mini series. Chapter 4.

Warnings: Fluff. Hard situation. Awkward moment. Sexual tension. Precocity. Slightly mention of sex. A.A. meeting.

Words: 4000

Summary: Finally John's case is solved, when he comes home and sees you waiting for him, he can't contain himself, but things don't turn out the way he didn't expect.

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Part 4.

The ruling on Lindsey's child support and custody is postponed until Monday morning. Mary has played all her cards to the best of her ability, she has tried to make John look like a rag, a rat in the eyes of the judge, to prove that John was not fit to take care of the child, however, Samuel has also been able to play the game and has defended his client tooth and nail, convincing the judge.

"I have made a decision, John Rollins will be responsible for the payment of a monthly child support for little Lindsey Rollins, non-payment of said monthly payment will be punished by a monetary reprimand and repeated non-payment will proceed to a trial hearing." He explains and John swallows hard. "Likewise I see no objection to Mr. Rollins not being able to see and care for his daughter, so I grant joint custody, as Mr. Rollins lives out of town, Lindsey will spend weekends, holidays and summer months with her father with both parties agreeing on what dates will be most appropriate for the child." He bangs his gavel hard and John feels his shoulders stop weighing a ton. "Very good morning." He says goodbye and they leave them all in the living room.

Samuel smiles excitedly and hugs his friend, Mary has a blank look on her face, also in the room are Tommy, Lindsey and Mark, the three of them walk up to them, Mark hugs John as Samuel has done and Tom tries to calm an enraged Mary.

"It's not going to stay that way John, I'm right, and eventually they'll see it, you'll fall, you always do and you'll take Lindsey with you and then you won't be able to do anything to stop yourself from ever seeing her again." She spits with venom in her every word.

"Mary please stop." He tries to be reasonable Tom, but the woman walks away tugging at the girl's hand.

"No, wait!" John shouts cutting her off. "We still have a lot to talk about. I'm going to give you my money, I know you don't give a shit whether or not I care about my daughter, that you just want the money to fuck me over, fine, I'll play your game, but you're going to play mine too; every weekend Lindsey wants to come with me to the farm, since I've gone five years without being able to see her I want Thanksgiving, Easter and Christmas."

"Have you lost your mind!"

"And a month of summer, I don't care which." He keeps talking, ignoring her. "It will be in writing, I'll have Samuel draw it up and send your lawyer a copy for you to sign, if you don't, we'll meet here again and I think you'd lose out."

"We'll see about that." She huffs and walks out of the room mumbling curses that he doesn't get to hear anymore, but he doesn't care.

"But what was that!" laughs Mark hugging his friend by the neck. "If I wasn't married I'd invite you to a little hotel..." He jokes and John laughs nudging him, Samuel approaches with a smirk.

"I'll draft that petition as soon as possible before your lawyer can quash it with any bullshit."

"Thanks Samuel and, no offense, but I hope I don't see you again for a long time."

"Same here." He jokes and waves goodbye to both men leaving.

"What's your plan now?"

"I'm heading home, it's too many days away, I left chores half done, I have to set up a room for Linds...I'm going to be busy."

"Well, maybe you should go to a meeting and talk about all this, it's a lot of stuff."

"I know, take care Mark and thanks to you too."

"For what I wrote? You earned every word John, I didn't give anything for you the first day you showed up at a meeting and you just made me miss my words. I'm so proud." He smiles and John feels his cheeks burn.

It's no big deal, he's no role model.

*********

(Sorry I just needed to put it here)

John parks the van in the driveway of the estate, frowns slightly and feels a tug in his stomach when he sees you get up from the porch steps, waving your hands nervously. He steps out of the vehicle and walks straight toward you, feeling his heart pound violently against his chest.

"John..." You greet him with a gasp of relief and he feels your words burning through his entire body. "I-I'm sorry to show up here, but it's been days and I didn't know anything, I was left worried about that letter, Hershel told me you were back in town..." You keep talking at the same time he is getting closer and closer. "I thought something bad had happened, I wanted to call you, but technically I don't have your phone number, I could have looked it up in your client file, but that would have been inappropriate and I don't..."

John kisses you, cradles your face in his hands and kisses you intensely. You gasp against his mouth opening your eyes wide as you didn't expect him to do that. You hold him by the back of his neck and feel his mouth open on yours and his tongue slips between your teeth making you tremble in his hands. You break the kiss for air, your gazes connect again, John bites his lip as his fingers caress your cheeks. Neither of you say anything, but there is something intense between you. John looks towards his house in a second, you follow his eyes and nod your head feeling your cheeks redden. John holds your hand and the two of you walk into the house.

The kisses don't stop as you move to the living room where you sit on the couch, you are left on his lap, your legs on either side of his, his hands grab your ass, your hips move against his crotch, already hard to your touch, John grunts because the fabric of the suit pants he wore in court gets him to feel it even more intense and his fingers press against your jeans hard. The kisses get more and more intense, the heat of your bodies keeps increasing, John presses you against his crotch and moves in your turn, he stops kissing you moving down your jaw and neck, enjoying the feel of your skin against his lips, your taste on his tongue gives him goose bumps. You throw your heads back, but your hands unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt, your fingers caress his bare chest, you lean over him kissing his neck, biting an x-shaped tattoo he has on his collarbone. He grunts and curses under his breath because he feels on edge. Four years is too long and his body is in a hurry. You keep moving on him and John feels like he's losing control.

"W-Wait..." He gasps, but your final thrust against his hard crotch, disarms him "F-fuck..." He grunts as he clenches his hands on your thighs as he feels his boxers getting wet and his whole body trembles. "I'm sorry..." He whispers without daring to look at you.

"Oh..." Is all you are able to say, sitting up on his knees.

"J-Just give me a minute and..." He tries to offer by rubbing his forehead, but you avert your gaze by getting up from his lap.

"I-it's okay, I..." You stammer and arrange your clothes over your body. "I'm meeting Maggie and... I should go..." You excuse yourself, but John doesn't try to stop you, he nods.

"Sure... I'll see you around." He says goodbye and you walk out of the house. "Fuck." He snaps again covering his face with both hands. He stirs on the couch feeling his boxers stick to his skin and it's uncomfortable.

He gets up from the couch and goes straight to the shower. It's been humiliating, but worst of all it's been disappointing for you, he knows, he hasn't even been able to touch you like you really deserved it and he's soiled his pants like a fifteen year old kid with his first porn magazine.

It's absurd.

The hot water runs over his body removing the remnants of his own shame from his skin, in his hands, in his mouth, in his ears he can still feel you and he curses once more. He doesn't know what has happened to him, he had no desire, but when he saw you at the door of his house, waiting for him, something has taken over his judgment. Maybe it is due to all the emotions he has suffered and experienced throughout those days, frustration, fear, confusion, euphoria, all of that has exploded at the same time and he has thrown himself on you like a hungry animal. Too much pressure, too soon.

A disaster.

He grunts once more and steps out of the shower walking naked to his room, one of the advantages of living alone, he leaves his stained pants aside along with the shirt and the rest, he puts on an old t-shirt and work pants. He will go up to the second floor and check the rooms one more time, he will look for the most suitable one for Lindsey, spacious, sunny, he will decorate and furnish it so that the girl will feel comfortable there, he would like to do it with her, at least choose some furniture, but until Samuel sends him the copy signed by Mary, he knows he will not see her.

Trying to avoid those thoughts he walks into one of the rooms and smiles. It is spacious with a large window that connects to a small balcony, which she will keep closed so the girl won't go out, she can put some nice curtains, a big bed in the center, decorate the walls with the color she likes the most. He bites his lip and gets down to work.

The first thing to do is to take out all the garbage that is there and air it all out.

**********

At the meeting everyone greets him, it hasn't gone missing for anyone who has been out of town for a few days, everyone asks him if he is ok to which John responds by nodding his head and thanking them for caring. On his turn to speak John was going to tell why he was gone, but he can't stop thinking about what happened to you two and needs to say it out loud.

"Hi, I'm John, alcoholic." He repeats as he does at every meeting. "I guess some of you are wondering where I've been these days and I really wanted to talk about it because a lot has been going on, but I need to talk about something I'm ashamed of." He sways held to the lectern searching for the words. "Today, after four years, I've been with a woman again..." There is some applause and a few whispers. "For five seconds... it was probably something else, but it was a pathetic five seconds that I held on..." He sighs in frustration. "I'm not coming to say that I was an animal in bed, that I held out for hours thanks to alcohol and that I always managed to make them cum, because it's not true, because I don't remember all my sexual escapades either, I'm coming to say that it's been humiliating and disappointing for her. She has run away, like a scared guinea pig. Just like that." He forms a grimace with his mouth, pursing his lips, forming a thin line. "And I've realized, again, that with alcohol everything was easier, or at least seemed easier. You'd get drunk, give your girl that look, take her home or to the back alley, what did it matter, and whether you managed to get your pants down or not was the least of it because your brain wouldn't remember it the next morning, when the hangover started hammering, you'd drown the thoughts in another beer and let the world keep spinning, right?" Some nods. "Now I feel the shame, the regrets, most of the time when I'm doing something I end up questioning what the fuck I'm doing... I want to apologize to her, but I don't even know if I have the right to do that, fuck I don't even know if she'll still be interested in me..." He finishes his thoughts returning to his chair.

"If I'm being honest I think it happens to all of us." Hears John next to him as the meeting ends and he's pouring himself a coffee. "Not just the precociousness, also that feeling of saying 'have I always been like this?' but then it all passes. I'm still married." He comforts the man by showing him his ring.

"A lot of women are scared of sex after they get into the program." A female partner approaches as well. "Too many questions and nerves play very bad tricks." She tries to encourage him. "If that girl likes you, she'll come back, but maybe you do need to tell her some things."

"Yes, I had thought that too, she knows I come here, but I guess it's not the same."

The woman smiles warmly at him and they walk away, John leaves the building heading back to his truck and home.

As he sits on the couch he hears his cell phone ring, he has a message from his lawyer and his smile grows wider as he reads that Mary has signed the joint custody papers, that she has agreed to his demands. With trembling hands he asks for Mary and Tommy's phone number, he wants to be able to contact one of them to talk directly to Lindsey, he wants to ask her about her room, the color of the walls, the bed, everything, he wants her to want to be there. Samuel is quick to send him both numbers, but John saves them, it's late and he doesn't want to bother, he would call them tomorrow.

Again he feels a relief run through his whole body, maybe he has hit bottom, maybe he can't fall anymore and now it's time to fight and go up, and this is like a reward for that.

That night John sleeps in one go and finally in his own bed.

************

John sits on the couch biting his nail as he listens to the phone ring, waiting for someone to answer on the other end, after several rings, he finally hears Mary's voice.

"Who is it?"

"Mary, it's me, John." He greets and hears her snort angrily. "Please don't hang up on me, I wanted to talk to Lindsey."

"Didn't we agree you'd see her on weekends? Wait for your turn."

"She's... she's not a toy I want to borrow, you know, I have every right to talk to her."

"Since when?"

"Since the day she was born and then you took her away." He answers angrily, Mary on the other end is silent, until she sighs.

"What do you want from her?"

"I just want to ask her a few things, you can put your hands free if you want." He rubs his forehead and picks up a pen and a piece of paper when he hears Mary call the girl, the voice echoes so he knows he's on speakerphone.

"Hello?" The little girl asks shyly and John smiles.

"Hi, little girl how are you?"

"Fine, I was just having breakfast with Tommy and mom...how about you?"

"Just fine, having breakfast too." A giggle escapes him. "You know? I'm fixing up your room for when you want to come see me and I was thinking of decorating it a little..."

"Yeah?" the girl asks curiously.

"Yup and I was wondering what color would look best and what furniture I could buy..."

"Unicorns!" the little girl shouts and John has to pull the phone away from his ear. "And pink! And purple! And green!" she continues excitedly. "And a big bed! Mom doesn't want me to have a big bed because she says I fall out, b-but I don't!" She defends herself, John laughs writing it all down quickly.

"Would you like to help me pick out some things?" He asks her again and thinks he hears a squeak coming from the girl, but then there is silence. John can imagine Lindsey asking her mother for permission before answering and he bites his lip again.

"Mom says we have a lot of things to do this week, I can't go..." Her voice sounds a little disappointed and John's smile falters.

"It's okay honey, it's okay." He promises her. "I'll ask your mom to send me some pictures of what you like best and I'll decorate it to your liking, is that okay with you?"

"Yup!" she shouts excitedly again. "Hey, Dad..." John's heart flips in his chest as he hears her. "Are there animals on your farm?"

"No, there aren't, but I'm friends with a farmer who does - dogs, cows, even horses." He encourages her and again seems to squeal on the other end. "We'll ask him to give us a ride, do you want?"

"Yes! I want to ride a horse!"

"Well we'll see about that." Mary interjects, her voice sounds very loud so John figures she's already taken the speaker off. "She's still too little and I'm not going to let you cut her head open for getting on an animal."

"That's not going to happen." He growls. "Do me that favor, okay? If my little girl wants anything for her room, or likes any particular color, send it to me."

"Whatever you say, John. Bye." She hangs up and John is left with his goodbye in his mouth. He snorts holding back an insult and leaves the phone on the table.

Unicorns. Well, he thinks he can find something out there, shouldn't be too hard. Though he highly doubts Hershel will let him put a fake horn on one of his horses to drive Linsdey totally insane.

After breakfast he goes out to the fields to do some work, he has to take care of his daughter's room, but he can't neglect his crops either. The day before Hershel explained to her how the whole system that the Jones brothers had installed worked, she checks that the pond is full and opens several stopcocks, so that the water can irrigate the land. Leaving the irrigation on for his corn crop, he rubs his hands against the cowboys and climbs into the pickup to head back to town.

He's not sure, but it's likely that at Woodbury Furniture he'll find some furniture that will fit Linds' room. It's the biggest store on the whole avenue, he's bought some furniture there that he's replaced from home and the prices are affordable, the furniture isn't the best quality, but it will last for years, especially if Linsdey only visits temporarily.

He never thought he'd find a rural Ikea, to be honest.

************

He gets out of the van and enters the huge furniture store, he just wants to look around, he prefers to wait for Mary to send him a list of the things Lindsey prefers for her room. He goes straight up to the second floor where the bedroom furniture is, the children's section is more spacious, there are double beds, bunk beds, trundle beds, desks of all kinds and shapes, comfortable chairs both wheeled and classic wooden, closets to match the beds they have on display, double closets, shoe racks, trunks to store toys, bookshelves. John feels a bit lost all of a sudden, there is everything, but the vast majority is austere furniture, poor or dark colors, which surprises him as usually all the children's sections are more colorful.

"I could buy wood paint and paint them myself." He thinks aloud, looking at a double-door cabinet with a full-length mirror between the two doors. John doesn't know if Lindsey is a flirtatious child, but he thinks she might like the glass detail.

"Can I help you with something?" He listens next to her, turns around spotting one of the workers and smiles gratefully.

"I'm actually just browsing, I have to redecorate a room and I'm getting ideas."

"Great, any new additions to the family?" she asks mischievously and John laughs shaking his head.

"Something like that... Do you sell paint and accessories here too, anti-fall railings?"

"No, you might find that at the hardware store, but we do have railings, they usually fit all the models of children's beds we carry, if not we could order you one to choose from."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you very much." He smiles kindly and says goodbye walking away from the young woman who continues with her work.

After looking at the furniture, John has an idea of what he wants for Lindsey, he walks over to the hardware store to look at the wood and wall paint for the room. There are too many different pots, he never thought there were pastel colors, glow in the dark, fluorescent... Lindsey is a little girl, it would be best to pick up some pastel colors, pink, purple and green he had told her. She picks up several buckets plus the brushes and more tools she will need, after paying for everything her last stop is the nursery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel before getting out of the truck and walking inside the greenhouse.

As you enter he spots you at the counter talking to a customer as you hand him back his change, a huge smile on your mouth full of friendliness and John takes a deep breath before approaching you.

"Hey, hi." He greets and looks sideways at you, you see him and your smile falters for a second as your cheeks take on a ruddy color. "Can we talk?" He asks you nodding to the side.

"S-sure, did something happen at the farm?"

"No, I... in private, please..." You insist and look at Rachel who gives you a gentle tap and nods her head.

"Of course you can talk, your shift is over." She nudges you lightly and smiles, "See you tomorrow."

"Great, do you want a ride home?" John offers as you grab your bag and pull your ponytail off, John's eyes follow the movement of your hair falling to your shoulders and he swallows.

Mark's coarse and out of place words talking about you come back to his mind. It's true that work clothes don't flatter anyone, the yellow t-shirt and green pants with the safety boots, certainly not sexy, but it also makes him think about how he's never seen you outside of work, not even that day you coincidentally met at Hershel's barbecue, you had left work and showed up in your company uniform. Yet he's still able to spot the natural curves your body makes. You are a big girl, bigger than other women he knows, bigger than Mary, full legs and strong arms, you are fit but your build and family heritage keeps you from losing those pounds that perhaps others think you have to spare, but which John realizes he doesn't mind at all. He still remembers the feel of your butt in his hands and would love to be able to touch it again.

"So will you take me home?" You ask approaching him and John nods clearing his throat, realizing he's been staring at you for a long time.

"Yes, no problem. See you another day, Rachel." He says goodbye to her who nods and the two of you walk back to the van.

Rollins is nervous, not sure how to bring up the subject, but you look quite relaxed, as if nothing has happened. He starts the engine and pulls into the drive following your directions.

"Hey I wanted to... I wanted to talk about what happened yesterday..." He opens his mouth at last, sees your body tense slightly and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Don't worry, John, there's no need..."

"I'm sorry." He interrupts her. "But it's been like... almost five years since I've been with anyone and..." He stammers seeing you stare at him with wide eyes.

"Five years?" you ask in surprise and he nods. "Wow, it's... is it because of the program? They don't let you...?" you ask unsure, John smiles and shakes his head.

"In a way, yes, but it's not that they forbid us to have a relationship, the first year is self discovery, they ask you to take time for yourself, and then it's your own personal fear, meeting people again, realizing that everyone drinks, more or less, but everyone does and thinking what if I kiss that person and it tastes like beer? What if that pushes me to drink again?" he confesses and you look down apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, I wanted to tell you because it was my fault about yesterday, I really didn't think it was that... pathetic." He snorts and you smile.

"Don't torture yourself, John. It's okay." You smile again, looking at him at last.

"I'd like to do it right, next time, if... if you want." He clears his throat. "I owe you a meal, so... I'd like to buy you dinner or something..." He dares to propose and the surprise comes back to you, but you try to hide the excitement that's drawn on your face.

"That sounds great. I'd love to." You agree and you can almost see his shoulders relax.

The rest of the ride is pleasant, you talk about many things, much more comfortable than when you first got in the car. You both avoid asking about his days out of town, John knows he has to tell you about it at some point, but he doesn't want to burden you with too much information either, nor does he know how much you want to know more about his life. He parks the van outside your house and you thank him for driving you there.

"Wait... I don't have your number..." You feel totally lost, had it always been this hard to pick up?

"That's right." You reach for a pen in your pants and take his hand, writing down your number for him. "I'll wait for you to call me, then."

"Yeah, you bet." He smiles and looks at his hand a couple of times as you go home.

************

John drives home, from the back of the truck he pulls out the paint cans and everything else carrying it up to Lindsey's room. His phone rings in his pocket and when he pulls it out he discovers that Mary has sent him several pictures with examples of rooms Linds might like. He smiles and puts the phone away again, with those references he can get to work.

******

To be Continued...

***

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next chapters and stories!

❤❤❤

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #john rollins #john x reader #john rollins x femreader #the messengers 2 #the messengers 2: the scarecrows #mini serie

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unprocione · 1 year

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* @greenherb ︴ continued from 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔!

"..you've won one every year since you started, won nationals, and they still won't let you in?" leon will have to take two steps for every one of kevin's own strides, but knows he'll have no issue keeping up, even with his astonishment at the seemingly insane requirements of the s.t.a.r.s entry exams taking his breath away. "that's.. that's ridiculous. maybe there's something wrong with the test, like a trick question, something like that." leon's eyebrows furrow; he won't know for sure until he takes the exam someday himself, but maybe he and kevin can compare notes when that day comes. leon's own marksmanship wasn't too shoddy. on average, he could hit the dead-center of the target most often than not if he really gave his full concentration, the result of weekends spent with officer kennedy senior on various gun ranges. however, leon was sure there was plenty of tips and tricks to learn how to hone his accuracy further from the advice of a national champion like kevin - if his father were still alive, he would surely be proud of how far leon had come.

leon's own boots are unblemished, barely scuffed, coming to a pause with a squeak against the polished floors. "that's what i said. i'm sure you clean up nice and all, but there's a distinct difference between.. your type's nice, and, you know, my standards." leon stumbles a bit at the clap on the back, cracking a grin at their back & forth exchange. "that's alright, really, if i had to, i'd work out of my car if it made a difference here, uh, but i'd rather not, of course." leon stays behind kevin as he's led out of the building's side entrance, using the taller officer's silhouette as shelter against the incoming mist of rain. he makes a convincing shadow, mirroring kevin with a mild raise of his hand in greeting to the pair of strangers clustered under the awning, but leon doesn't stick around to make an impression, stuck to kevin like glue, and even then, the smoke certainly doesn't persuade him otherwise. to his credit, he makes it halfway up the stairs before mentioning the cigarette plucked from the box, a new personal record. "you know, they actually say women find men who don't smoke more attractive these days? just ah, in case you hadn't heard."

leon picks at the black polish on his nails as they continue, paint chipping and flaking away with ease, leon nodding his head to acknowledge kevin and then, realizing he was out of kevin's eyeline again, speaks up. "got it! i trust you. straight to back hall, outside, then stairs... i think i can remember that. do i need a key card for this door, or..? and why are we working out of museum rather than like, a station building, if it's this difficult to get around in a hurry? is there a separate building for the holding cells? how far from our desks? is there an emergency exit in case of a fire or something, so i don't set off any alarms by accident?" firing off a handful of questions without taking a breath, leon steps ahead of kevin into the doorway as guided, but doesn't stray far from kevin at all, glancing over his shoulder and waiting patiently for him to take the lead again, maneuvering his damp bangs away from falling into his face with a toss of his head.

"i'm right behind you. murders, though? i was told, uh, rabies outbreak and influenza, a really nasty combination. i'm up to date on all my vaccinations, just in case, i had them finished up before i left new york with my last physical. i've heard nothing about murders. are you guys thinking like there's a possible serial killer in the midst of all this too? christ."

#» 🌱 ﹕ thread. ─ greenherb. ╱ kevin ryman. ❧#» 🕊️ ﹕ were you bitten or scratched? (ic.) ❧#✦ class ﹕ * light reply.#★ kevin ryman. ︴greenherb. ❧#🙤῾◞ ⠀ ⠀ * ROOKIE ─ RESIDENT EVIL 2.#yucky. no emo makeover for you kevin #also. bc ty showed me a screenshot #can't wait for kevin to hear this mf call a two-way mirror a magic mirror #bullied until the end of time. whole department calling him snow white bc. you know. magic mirror. pfft

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imjohan · 1 year

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Woodworking and the New Woodworke

Each and every week, I take the time to read the comments that my readers make about my woodworking blog. First of all I want to them for taking the time to comment, I really appreciate all of the comments and suggestions. This past week there was a comment from a gentleman, who expressed a desire to get into woodworking. As a guy who is passionate about woodworking, I want to welcome him to the fold. And I want to offer him all of the advice and encouragement possible in his endeavors.

Over this past weekend I happened to spend some time in the shop of another woodworker, and he and I got to talking about the problems that a new woodworker faces. The more we talked, the more we became convinced that many new woodworker actually make it harder on themselves to become a successful woodworker than necessary. Now I know that you are not going to let me get away with making a statement like that without some explanation.

There are normally two ways that a person moves into woodworking. The first group of people is those who grew up in an environment that included woodworking. These are the guys and gals whose father, grandfather, or other relative or neighbor was involved in woodworking. And as time went on, they either inherited their woodworking tools from these folks, or because woodworkers are an opinionated group, had already learned the importance of having quality tools. My comments do not apply to this group.

They do however apply to a second group of new woodworkers. This is the group that includes those who one day decide for whatever reason that they want to become a woodworker. Maybe it's because they have just moved into a new home and see many projects that they could take on, if only they were into woodworking. Whatever the motivation, I feel that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that idea; in fact I think it's great. But what often happens next is the problem. The new woodworker is faced with a dilemma. As we all know, to do woodworking he or she needs to invest some hard money into the tools that woodworking requires. But not being 100% sure that they will really enjoy woodworking they hesitate to spend the money to purchase quality tools. And this I feel is where they set themselves up for failure.

When starting out, most novice woodworkers will normally opt for the smaller, lighter less expensive tool, be it a tablesaw, miter saw or whatever tool is needed to supplement their workshop. In their thinking, it doesn't make sense to spend the money on an expensive tool when they are not sure that they will really like doing woodworking. And I can understand that line of thinking. But when they try to make that precise cut with this tool, the results are often less than perfect. Why? Well there could be a multitude of reasons, the woodworker didn't set the tool up correctly, or the blade/bit was dull, the wood wasn't secured correctly or maybe just maybe the tool was not capable of making the desired cut. But since this occurred with a novice woodworker, there is a very strong possibility that the woodworker will blame their own skills rather than seeing that the problem maybe with the tool..

At this juncture, one of two things can happen, the woodworker can take the time to diagnose the problem and realize that the tool, not they are at fault. Or they can simply give up woodworking, because they feel that they just can't do it. That they don't possess the skills needed to be a good woodworker. And this is really too bad. Yes, I know about the old adage that a craftsman doesn't blame his tools. But there are times that the tool is the real culprit.

Getting back to the guy who wants to get into woodworking, my advice would be to avoid the cheap tools. I am not advocating buying the most expensive tool. I am advocating buying the best tool. Take the time to research the tools completely. Look at any one of the multitude of woodworking blogs for their reviews or comments on tools. I know for certainty that any woodworker who is unhappy with the performance of a tool will make sure that anyone who will listen knows their feeling about that tool. Likewise, if they have had a good experience with a particular tool, they will let you know that as well.

Just to clarify, my comments about taking the time to find the best tool, based on all factors not just price, applies to all tools. A cheaply built hand tool can cause just as many headaches for the woodworker an equally poor power tool.

If you try woodworking and find that it just isn't your thing, that's okay. Woodworking isn't for everyone. I just don't want anyone to quit trying woodworking because they have bad tools.

The Jersey Woodworker has been a successful woodworker for over 30 years. To read more of his tips, tricks, projects and reviews please visit his blog at Sawdust on the Floor [

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sparklingdumpsterfire3 · 2 years

Text

ENTRY #1

It all started as just another test. My father designed it for a simulation for my sister and I do complete before the summer finished.

He and his colleagues had been working on the mutatious virus for years, testing it to make sure it could never be released, and that it could be cured.

My sister and I's goal however was not to cure it, but to contain it.

Once inside a host, the virus could take control of the brain, learning from the host's dna what is necessary for survival and reproduction, not of it's host but of it's own kind.

This virus was designed to spread through direct contact with blood and saliva or blood on blood. It could be airborne if it mutates long enough and takes over quickly.

Symptoms were sacre to find and hard to detect as anything but a small cold. So the host could not prevent it from spreading once infected. At least that’s all we knew about it in the beginning.

Why my father would create such a virus, I do not know but it was never meant to leave our facility.

But of course it did.

ENTRY #2

"Hey Charming" Matthew said matching my pace to walk with me. "I heard you're dad's testing out the new sim today, are you ready?"

Matthew Sandler is the closest thing to a friend I have at the facility, which is quite devestating. He and I grew up together in a weird sense. His father is Head Engineering for the Tech unit so we often were in the same meeting room whenever an important meeting happened, which was every week.

He and my sister started dating back when we were 12, it was the grossiest thing in the world and something about their relationship seemed so wrong, maybe it was the fact that children were shoving their tongues down each other's throats.

I was forced to tag along in every embarrassing and awkward date they had until we turned 15. Then my father decided he would allow me to go off on my own. But by then, Matthew was suddenly attached to my hip.

Everywhere I went he was not far, even outside of the facility he would follow me around. I don't understand why, but he claims it's just so he can find my weakness and then get ahead of me for top junior agent. Everyone who’s anyone knows my only rival is Fren Jhobe and even see sticks to basic weekend stalking.

My sister, Imani, says it's because he's my guardian angel and it's his duty to keep me out of trouble. Which is funny because she's the biggest troublemaker in the facility.

"Sandler." I said not answering his question but acknowledging his presence. What can I say, I’m a civil man.

"Imani and I were gonna skip it for some us time, could you cover for us?" He asked with no shame.

"No. You've both already missed 12 sims, and the last thing you should be doing is trying to impregnate my sister in our own father's facility!" I said sharply.

The thought of them having any sort of "us time" sent shivers down my back and a sick feeling down in my stomach.

"Look dude, man to man let's talk. I have needs, you have needs, we all have needs and I have someone to satisfy them, you don't but that shouldn't stop you from-"

"My sister isn't dating you just to satisfy your needs. She's not interested in some cheap lazy douchebag who's only interest is getting into her pants. Besides even if you were off fooling around, wouldn't you only need what 5 minutes?" I said cutting him off.

He seemed angry and I saw his hand clench. But I could tell, that no matter what my sister said to try to convince him otherwise, he would no longer miss the sim.

He stopped walking besides me and turned around without another look. Of course I would only know that because I looked back, I always look back.

The sim prep room was a mixture of labs, computer rooms, and a board room.

My father and his colleagues sat in the board room and would watch the test from there. The labs held the people who would serve as the hosts for the virus and their vitals and brain activity would be monitored the entire time.

I knocked lightly on my father's door, there was hardly any need since the door was made of glass.

"Come on in Edward." My father said tiredly.

I walked in and took a seat besides one of the military officers, Braden. He was the youngest graduating soldier and made it to highest clearance at just 18, now he's 19 and takes part in my father's operations and experiments.

He's the closest thing to a brother I have, which is quite enjoyable.

"Are you doing the sim alone again?" He asked as I sat down.

"No, Matthew and Imani should be here soon, they're just a little late." My father frowned at this. "Imani still gets a bit nervous before the sims" I added quickly before he thought they were fooling around.

I could hear the small quick steps that could only belong to my spoiled and bratty older twin, Imani.

She walked in with a sense of superiority and flashed a quick but very effective smile at the members of the team. She had the effect of taking over a room with her presence and could manipulate any man or women into doing her bidding with the right swing of her hips or tilt of her head when she smiled.

That's why I'm surprised she and Matthew lasted for 6 years, she had a tendency to sleep around, something we both got from our father.

"Wonderful for you to finally join us, Imani. I imagine Matthew won't be far behind?" Father said standing up and walking towards his presentation board and straightening his uniform.

"Present sir!" Matthew said from the doorway. His hair was a bit wet and unorganized and he struggled to fix it.

He father frowned unimpressively and motioned for him to sit, which he did right by my side as he always did.

Braden to my left, Matthew to my right, and Imani to the right of him.

"Today's sim is testing my new virus, we call it Xigolic Max, danger level 5 nearing 6 and spread through contact of your blood, and infected host will move with intent though clumsily, once they find a suitable target, the target will be pursued until contained." He said showing a picture of a young child strapped to a table.

His eyes were bloodshot and his gums blackened. His back arched as he tried to reach the doctor in front of him, that's mom, I realized and smiled softly.

She didn't seemed the single bit frazed, so neither would I.

"Sir, when you say contained.....you don't mean dead right? You just mean secured and out of harm's way." Matthew asked, he was always nervous about killing.

"The host doesn't feel pain." Was the answer and Matthew's face turned a pale color.

I was undeterred, if killing some infected people meant the virus could be controlled, I had no problem with it. I just hope Mom is the slightest bit impressed with my performance.

The last time I heard a 'good job don't from her was when I was 10 and it was after I passed the highest level science exam. She also passed it at that age so I'm sure she was mostly complimenting herself.

"You start in 10 minutes, go get ready" Father said and sat down to discuss with his colleagues.

We stood in unison and walked out.

"What if they do feel pain? What if your father was only trying to make me feel better? Oh God what if I barf inside the suit? What if I'm not quick enough to get out of their way?" Matthew asked as we dressed in our too large hazmat suits.

"Hesitate and you fail" I said to him and ignored his persistent questioning.

He's done this countless times before, it's best to just say nothing. If you try to make him feel better he'll just worry even more and give me a headache.

*"Simulation start in T-minus 1 minute" *

"Count to three" I whispered and cracked my knuckles and grabbed my pistols and semi-automatic.

I don't like loud guns and prefer knives, but I have "pre-sniper position" as Imani calls it.

I stay at the corners or 7 ft from wherever Imani and Matthew decide to go.

I switched my coms on and loaded my pistol.

*"10...9...8...7...6"*

"I really think I'm going to barf this time" Matthew said through the coms and his breathing grew heavy and nervous.

*"...5...4...3...2...1...Begin"*

The doors slid open to reveal and large set up of some dismantled city, broken glass was everywhere, dead bodies, gas, and fires lined the streets and inside the buildings.

I walked out and signaled for Matthew to go my opposite.

"This is Charming, requesting position" I said calmly and controlling my breathing so it was easier to understand me.

"Charming 2 here, positioned behind a large dumpster, no sign of life nor infected." Imani said softly.

"Sandler here, positioned between a stone building and bookstore, main street. Some infected spotted walking aimlessly. Count 4."

I turned the corner and headed towards main street when something behind me stumbled.

I turned and saw an infected perso-host, with bloodshot eyes scrambling my way.

I shot it square in the heart then the head, I couldn't tell which was most effective.

I scanned my surroundings once more before crouching down and slowly walking out of the alley.

"This is Charming, aim for heart and head to contain virus."

"Charming 2 here, no infected detected"

I could tell she felt good about that, but she knew without any kills she would fail.

"Sandler, requesting permission to shoot"

I could see him across the street gun loaded and pointed at the head of an infected.

I raised my semi-automatic towards the group it walked with.

"Permission granted"

They went down quickly but the noise caused 2 others too head towards main street.

"Sandler, 2 infected on the street to your right, coming up. Stand back and allow me to shoot"

"Negative sir" he replied and jumped out and shot the 2 infected.

"Follow orders Sandler, your weapon is louder than mine." I said irritated but didn't show it, instead I crept back and headed towards the large dumpster Imani mentioned earlier.

"Position, Charming 2?"

"Behind bookstore past main street, requesting help" She said.

The sound of gunshots filled the air as I moved towards her, 8 infected were coming up behind her so I shot down most of them.

I ran towards the alley she was in, and saw the massive amount of infected.

"Help is here" I said trying to stay back while shooting them down.

My aim is normally spot on but some of my bullets were short and everytime I tried to go closer, the 7ft marker in my helmet went off.

"Charming, there's a balcony in that house on the corner, get there and I'll take your spot!" Matthew shouted running towards us.

"No, Ed don't leave! I can't hold them back here!" Charming 2, I mean Imani cried out from behind a traffic blockage. The infected already surrounded her and we're clawing and spitting out huge globs of saliva at her feet and trying to rip away her suit.

I took a quick glance around and broke into a sprint to get to the building.

"Fuck don't shoot!" Imani yelled and my blood ran cold.

I climbed up the stairs and threw myself at the balcony doors. A huge mass of infected had climbed into her and were screeching and ripping away at her suit.

"END SIM!" I yelled shooting the most aggressive ones.

Matthew stood watching in shock as my sister screamed for help.

*"Request denied"*

*"Simulation level of difficulty increased"*

The house I was in started to collapse. I stumbled on the tilting floors reaching for the rails and walls to keep me in a good shooting position.

"Sandler get your ass in there!" I commanded.

"...Yes sir" he whispered and shots ran out.

I climbed over the ledge once the building had sturdied out.

My sister was laying in a pool of blood, hers and theirs. Matthew had shot down the rest and stood with his gun hanging uselessly.

*"Simulation ending"*

"Charming 2 out of commission. Requesting medics. Sandler report." I ordered breathlessly.

"Charming: 17 kills, Charming 2: 12 kills, Sandler: 10 kills" He said still in a whisper.

#virus #fanfic #lgbtq #teenagers #military #lovers #original story #action #horror #zombie #mommy issues #daddy issues #poc main character #futuristic #family drama #dramatic #potentially triggering

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roscgcld · 3 years

Text

INUMAKI TOGE || scary man

request: The little sister ask is so cute is it okay to ask something like it I don't want to bother you, but if it okay then inumaki toge x little sister reader (5 or6), where she is scared of them because he doesn't visit a lot and is quite so whenever he visit she hides under the bed , poor baby would be so sad,also imagine the other 2d years trying to help him,

I forgot to add this sorry when the other second year try to help him it backfire because she gets attached to maki instead ( string beautiful woman a big sister!) Sorry again for forgetting your writing is so good

note: hello love! no this was not a bother to me at all! I enjoyed writing that imagine! i wouldn’t mind writing a short imagine for this! also, thank you for thinking my writing is good c: it is average at best, but i feel your love~ i hope you enjoy this though!

pronouns: she/her

scene: before yuji’s appearance in the story; since it will be weird to only have maki ><

"This is going to be your future school, by the way!” A tall white man with a blindfold said to the young girl, who was holding onto his hand tightly as she stared at the school in awe. Today was a special day, the Inumaki clan had revealed to the world another Inumaki heir; one with strong cursed energy that is quite the force to be reckoned with. Even though she doesn’t have the Cursed Speech Ability like her older brother does, she still has all the qualms to be a powerful sorcerer in the future. So, with that, Gojo somehow convinces the Inumaki elders to let the young girl to visit the college.

The main reason? For his own student, of course!

Everyone knows how much Toge misses his family, more specifically, his baby sister. He hasn’t seen her since she was born, besides the odd visit here and there that never seems to end well for the two of them. When she was first born, she loved her older brother to pieces, not minding his tattoos and how quiet the man was. But the older she got, and the more she spends time around others who look relatively normal, it become a shock to her system when she realised that her “onii-chan” has scary tattoos on the side of his face.

And only speaks in onigiri ingredients too! What kind of person talks like that?

Gojo had heard this little ‘issue’ form Yuta one day, after noticing that Toge looking more glum then usual after the school gave students permission to return home over the weekend. So, as the loving sensei he is, why wouldn’t he pull some strings to let the youngest Inumaki heir to come and visit the college? She is going to enroll here in the future anyway; and since her brother was going to be there to keep an eye on her as well, his parents had agreed to let her go with the white haired shaman.

Which was how we found the little girl, wide eyed and dressed in a adorable purple and white kimono, walking beside her guardian for the day. Gojo found the young girl quite adorable, having to hold her tiny hand firmly so she was not running about the school to explore. He didn’t want her to fall and hurt herself, since she was technically under his case; but he also wants to see her reaction to seeing her older brother. “Y/N-chan, shall we go and see the onee-chan and onii-chan I told you about?”

Immediately the girl’s eyes widen as she nodded her head in excitement, soft pigtails bouncing along with her movements. Gojo had to slap a hand over his face to stop his laughter from leaving. He may not want kids, but he does find kids absolutely adorable; and wouldn’t mind taking care of them from time to time. “Let’s go then, cutie!” He said after he took a moment to calm down, laughing when the little girl just tugged on his arm excitedly as she tried to lead the way.

Only to pause when they reached a courtyard and turned to look at the older man with a soft pout; as if silently telling him that she’s lost now.

Gojo grins and reaches over to pat the top of her head before he led her towards the courtyard, where he was sure the second year students were resting at. The second years were all on break right now, having had 3 hours of lessons earlier in the day. So the man was able to locate them at their usual resting spot - the cherry blossom gardens, resting on the soft grass under the shade of the still budding cherry blossom trees.

“Yo, second years! I have a guest I want you to meet!” Gojo called out as he led the little girl towards them, who now switch to grabbing onto the fabric of his pants as they made their way towards the small group. Maki and Yuta shared a confused look, wondering if Gojo had fathered a child along the way. Panda had opened one lazy eye, his nose twitching a little at the sight of the young girl. Only Inumaki looked like he had an idea on who she is, perking up a little as he got up hastily. “Bonito flakes!”

“That’s right!” Gojo said with a grin as he clapped, gesturing to the girl that was hiding behind the tall man’s legs; peeking over at the group shyly. “Let me introduce you to the youngest Inumaki heir, and younger sister to our dear Toge-kun, Inumaki Y/N!” He introduced before he carefully coax the girl from behind his legs, squatting down before her as he gave the unsure girl a smile. “Now, Y/N-chan - how do we greet people?”

Immediately the young girl pauses before she faces the group once more, folding her hands before her before she gave them a soft bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” She said in a soft and shy voice, causing both Maki and Yuta to coo at how cute she was. Neither of them have met Toge’s little sister before, besides seeing the odd video and picture from their friend; so seeing the young girl that’s no more than six shyly greeting them definitely causes them to find her adorable.

Toge, on the other hand, was ecstatic. Even though he does not see her as often, due to college and all, he still loves his baby sister to death. Without a fail he will send birthday and christmas presents to the young girl, receiving videos of his baby sister unwrapping them on camera and thanking him with the cutest smile on her face. However, he knows that she still does fear him - so he wasn’t too shocked when she just shyly clutched onto the front of Gojo’s uniform; shaking her head repeated whilst the older man tried to coax her to go and greet the others.

Yuta, as if feeling her distress, decided to get up and gestures for his friend to follow, both boys quietly making their way towards her whilst Maki stayed back to watch with a smile. “Hello there.” Yuta greeted quietly as he bent down to her height, giving the young girl a welcoming smile whilst Toge stood over the two of them. “My name is Yuta, you must be Toge’s younger sister?” He asks in a kind tone as he gestures to the other boy, who just waves at his sister warmly.

At the sight of the two males, the younger girl freezes up before burying herself deeper into Gojo’s jacket, causing the older man to chuckle as he rests his palm on her back soothingly. “Don’t be scared. Like I said, they are nice people.” He tried to coax the little girl, who refused to pull her face out of his uniform jacket. Her action caused Toge’s shoulders to sag a little, feeling bad that his own baby sister was scared of him.

It wasn’t his fault that his ability causes him to have tattoos on the side of his mouth and tongue. He remembers crying about it when he was younger too, but had gotten used to it ever since. Plus, a few of his uncles and aunts carry the same markings too, so he didn’t feel too alone.

But when your own baby sister is clearly scared of you, anyone would be sad.

Maki, as if sensing the tension, got up before she made her way towards the two, gently smacking the back of Yuta’s head as she squatted down beside the male; who glared at her in response as he rubbed the back of his head lightly. “You’re hopeless.” She grumbled before she turned to face the little girl with a smile, who had shyly glanced over the new addition to the group. “Y/N-chan, my name is Maki.” The woman greeted in a surprisingly soft tone, causing the little girl to loosen her hold a little on Gojo’s jacket. “Your onii-chan has told us a lot about you, and Yuta and I are quite excited that you came to visit us all the way in Tokyo.”

The three males shared a shocked look, having never expected Maki to be able to converse in such a soft tone with anyone before. But somehow she is doing it - quietly talking and coaxing the girl out of Gojo’s jacket; and soon the two girls joined hands to go to the vending machine to grab a drink. Yuta and Toge both blinked, sharing a look between each other whilst the two girls slowly faded off into the distance. Even Gojo was quite shocked by the outcome, grinning over at the two as he rest his face in his hand, his elbow resting on his bent knee with a grin. “Oya? Seems like you’ve got some competition for attention, Toge-kun.”

“...Tuna.” Toge huffed, and if his zipper was down, there was definitely a pout set on his lips as he looked away from the grinning older man. “Gojo-sensei.” Yuta said with a soft frown as he glances over at his teacher disapprovingly, who only gave a cheeky smile in response. Yuta ignored the older male as he got up, gently patting Toge on the shoulder with a smile as his friend glances over at the slightly taller male. “Don’t mind, Toge - I am sure all we need to do is help her warm up to you a little more. I mean, it’s been awhile since you’ve last saw her. Maybe she just needs more time.”

Toge gave his friend an uncertain look, but it wasn’t like there was any other choice. So he just sighs softly before he nods in defeat, to which Yuta just smiles and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry - I am sure she’ll talk to you eventually.

As the day continue to go by, Toge was pretty sure that there was no way the two of you are going to be bonding anytime soon.

Throughout the entire day, you have been clearly shadowing Maki around; asking her if she can teach you things, following her about as she went to class; clinging onto her every word as she entertained your curious questions. Yuta wasn’t any better then Toge, but she still managed to talk to him without flinching or running away from him; but she’d have to be clutching onto Maki or be close to the older girl whenever she’s conversing with Yuta. Even Panda had some interactions with you - well, it was more so you jumping and climbing all over the panda with the bright smile and loudly giggles whilst Panda laid there, letting you climb about his fluffy body.

However Maki did actually try to get the younger girl to talk to him - asking the young girl to go and ask if her older brother wanted a drink after class, quietly coaxing her to go and ask him for things like snacks or change for snacks. The younger girl though, was not having it - shaking her head with tearful eyes, silently begging the older girl without using her words. This caused Toge to deflate and his mood to drop significantly. It wasn’t like he can control his appearance to begin with.

To be honest, he had never thought much about his appearance. Because of this, he was used to getting comments and hiding his tattoos so he didn’t really stand out - but when it’s his baby sister, who he loves with his entire heart, is the one scared of him?

Now that was just another low.

Toge whines as he leans back into his seat, watching his baby sister going about following Maki as she went about her day. Yuta, who was seated next to the sulking teen, glances over at him in amusement as he finishes his mouthful of water. “Maybe she just needs some time to warm up to you.” He tried to offer, feeling bad that he was feeling this way. He was sure having your baby sister fear you was probably not the best feeling. Must have been another slap to the face when she ended up falling about your best friend. “I mean, she’s still young. She’ll grow out of this.”

The same boy just whines and tilts his head back with his eyes closed, trying not to think about the entire thing. It was because of this that he didn’t hear soft whispers and footsteps, only looking over curiously when he felt someone gently tapping on his knee. Opening his eyes quietly, he looks pulls his head up just in time to see his baby sister, cheeks rosy and eyes downcast as she held out a crudely picked bunch of flowers. Maki stood beside the young girl with an amused look on her face, looking over at Toge with a raised eyebrow when he looks up as well. “Salmon?”

“Y/N here said she wanted to make you feel better.” Maki said with a grin as he reaches down to pet the soft girl on the hair whilst the young girl just shyly nods her head. “She felt bad, since I told her that you’re sad that she’s scared of you.” Maki continues whilst Toge blinks before he carefully takes the flowers from the girl’s young hand. Quietly she wrapped her arms around his legs, since he was seated on a few seats higher from the ground.

Her reaction caused Toge to freeze, watching as she nuzzles closer and tighter her grip even more. “...D-Don’t be sad, Nee-chan.” She mumbles out in a soft voice, one so pure and innocent that it had all the seniors coo at the little girl quietly. “I-I promise to be a g-good girl..”

Toge felt his heart melt, the sadness he felt from the day melting along with him as he reaches over to pat the top of her head gently. He had hoped that his actions spoke louder then words for him, offering the girl a soft chuckle when she just looks up at him with a bright smile. Wordlessly she held her tiny hand out for him, causing Toge to tilt his head as he grabbed it; letting the little girl start to drag him about somewhere.

Maki and Yuta decided to sit back as they watch the two siblings go off to somewhere on campus, probably to the pond located on the temple grounds to feed the fish together. “How did you convince her to approach Toge?” Yuta asks with a raised eyebrow as Maki took Toge’s place on the stone steps, her long sword resting by her side. “Oh, I just explained that her older brother loves her a lot, and ask her who do you think gets you all of those gifts on her birthday.”

“Ah, guilt tripping.” Yuta teases with a grin whilst Maki just rolls her eyes with a chuckle, nudging him softly. “I would say it’s teasing her how to count her blessing.” Was Maki’s reply as they watch the two walk deeper into the campus, Toge nodding his head with an excited look whilst the young girl was talking non-stop about something.

“But hey, at least both of them look happy.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #inumaki #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk inumaki #jjk inumaki x reader #inumaki to/ge #okkotsu yuta #jjk okkotsu #zenin maki #zenin clan #gojo satoru #jjk maki #jjk gojo

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lokifantasies · 3 years

Text

Confused (Loki/Jade)

You're out of town on a business trip, and Jade talks with her father about her confusion about her own sexuality.

Read the Mischievous Life series here!

Follow Jade here!

Follow Loki here!

The weekend is finally here, and you debate on leaving for your business trip to London or stay home with the kids �� knowing how much is going on with them. Loki, however, has convinced you to use the time as a breather – to get your thoughts together. He even offered to pay the extra fee that it would cost if you wanted to stay for the whole week. You aren't too sure about that, but you promise that you'll let him know if you do decide to stay for a few days. The sound of taking a breather and getting your thoughts together makes you feel a little less stressed already – you won't lie about that.

However, you being gone for at least the weekend means that Loki is in charge of taking care of your five Loki mini-mes.

It goes without saying that chaos and mischief will be a large part of the weekend, but Jade seems a bit distant and distracted before it can begin. Loki walks back into the house after dropping you off at the airport, and he's met with the sight of his fifteen-year-old sitting on the kitchen bar eating popsicles – staring out the window and into the backyard.

"Hey, you," Loki softly greets his daughter – causing her to turn and look at him – forcing a smile on her face. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Jade sighs – letting out a chuckle when her dad gets a popsicle from the freezer and sits next to her on the bar. "Just...thinking."

"Be careful," Loki jokes as he takes a bite of the treat. Jade playfully punches him, and she rests her head on his shoulder. "Want to talk about it?"

Jade shrugs. "I guess," she agrees. "Do you really wanna hear it?"

"My love, I want to hear everything that goes through your beautiful mind," Loki assures her. "Come on...maybe I can help."

Jade chuckles. "I'm not so sure about that." Loki smiles and kisses Jade's head – using his magick to conjure two more popsicles from the freezer. Jade takes a bite of hers and begins talking. "I'm...confused."

Loki hums in understanding. "About what?"

"Me," Jade says quietly before taking another bite. "My...sexuality."

Loki nods, and Jade sits up from his shoulder – wanting to talk face-to-face with her father. "What're you confused about?"

Jade bites her bottom lip – contemplating how to word her thoughts. "I mean, it's obvious that I like girls," Jade begins, "but I don't know if I only like girls." Loki nods and urges her to go on. "Are you really sure you wanna hear it?"

"Yes," Loki laughs. "I want to hear it."

Jade sighs. "Evan is the only guy that I've ever found myself attracted to, but the reason I never had sex with him is that...well, he didn't, for lack of a better word, turn me on. That's weird, right? I mean, I found him attractive, but no matter how much he kissed me or held me...I never wanted to spread my legs."

"But with females," Loki begins – trying to conclude Jade's thoughts.

"But with females," Jade interrupts – keeping her train of thought going. "Claudia, for example...she's drop-dead gorgeous," Jade says – a smile on her face as she thinks about her ex-girlfriend. "Instantly, I was attracted to her, and the first time our lips touched...there was a fire lit inside me...and all I could think about was satisfying her, and you know...the other way."

Loki goes silent for a moment – taking his daughter's words seriously and wanting to help her in some sort of way.

"No," Loki finally speaks. "Jade...that's not weird. That's normal for a teenager, but...I understand what you're talking about because, believe it or not, I was the same exact way once upon a time."

Jade's eyes widen at her father's confession. "Really?"

"Really," Loki confirms. "I've always been...attracted to certain men, but like you, I was never sexually interested in them," Loki explains. "Like you, I've only ever been sexual with females, but I accept the part of me that finds men attractive."

"So...what does that make you?" Jade asks – feeling like her father actually understands her.

Loki smiles at his daughter. "It makes me me," he says with love in his eyes. "And it makes you you."

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

@radicallyred @holdmytesseract @mm2305 @nms224 @clockblobber @missdforever @winchestersgirl222 @sallymagnoliaposts @darkacademictrash @yellowballoon @1marvelnerd3000 @lynnsthoughts @imliketotallyclueless @itsybitchylittlewitchy

#loki fanfic #loki fandom #loki family #loki x reader #loki x you #dad!loki #daddy!loki #domestic!loki #mischievous life #god of mischief #loki x jade #loki jade reader #jade lokisdottir #send requests #requests open

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

atlas heart || part 25

a/n : so sorry it took so long getting this update out !! i had a disgusting amount of work to do and i really was not doing anything else for a few days -- i really hope you like it!! pls lmk what you think about things now that jimin (and we) know everything! its gonna get,,,, i wanna say messy but messys not even enough to cover how messy its gonna get

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tag list!! [closed]

@deepseavibez @siredjoonie @kawaii-desv @knadiuniverse @anxious-reading @catbugsugarpea @cahowlkook @amoreguk @taekookandyoongi @nogitsune-sama @whitetshirtsrus @gustavkonrad @lilacdreams-00 @seungkwanismyaesthetic @mochiteddybear @cosmicdaylight @helpitskpop @lovetootie2x @unnoticeableparadox @applejuice218 @amicalostgirl @bad-idea-personified @moralita76 @yoongiscrackhead @thebleuprince @jooniesmind @incredibleella @missbowkimjinju @marifujioka @evil-ian @uqhgood @milky-way-bitch @yellohoshi @agust-suck-my-d @okaysoplshelpme @cutehoshii @dreamcatcherjiah @butterflylion @thesunisup-theskyisblue @thealexalcala @yoonjibby @baepsaekid @surviving-in-neverland @blaisezabini @melswolf @michiiedreamer @minimochimin @ebeanz @bts-bambi @sleepyje0n

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Jimin can’t remember the last time he’d closed his eyes for more than a few minutes. Time goes by so fast these days that he’s partially convinced he’s been falling asleep and not realizing it. The hours between class and dinner every day are spent in the library, his headphones shoved into his ears haphazardly while he tunnel visions onto what’s been in the back of his mind since the beginning of the year.

Those spare hours had turned into days and days into weeks -- weekends where he doesn’t even glance at his phone, unaware of the growing concern of his friends. It’s almost May now, the chill of early spring having melted away around him without him realizing. His schoolwork stopped being a priority ages ago, and he knows his grades are really taking the hit for it. He vaguely remembers Namjoon confronting him one night some time ago -- a week? Two weeks ago? -- but he can’t for the life of him recall the contents of that conversation. Something about hating to play the ‘prefect card’, but having no choice. He doesn’t even know if he’s still on the quidditch team. It doesn’t matter -- nothing matters when seeing everything with the perspective he’s got now.

Practically buried in scrolls and books, Jimin could care less about the time and the fact that he’s very obviously breaking curfew right now -- the library’s been empty for hours now, and the light outside the window has well past faded into pitch black darkness. He had to hide from Pince around 10pm, barely managing to catch the click of the librarian’s heels through the music blasting in his headphones to keep him concentrated -- it’s a miracle that she hadn't caught him, really. He’d never be able to focus properly back in his room, not when he’s this close to putting the pieces together.

It’s there, right there, everything scattered in his brain. He knows it’s sitting right in front of him, he can feel himself trying to hyperfocus on anything that can blatantly tell him what he needs to know. Flipping through the pages of a book with one hand and shuffling through scrolls with his other, he glances down at a scrap of paper with his own handwriting, chicken-scratch on a ripped up piece of parchment for him to refer back to every few minutes. There, in black ink, the words ‘vampire’ and ‘veela’ are written and then, later, crossed out. There’s one below it -- ‘maledictus’ -- that remains uncrossed and haunts his every thought.

For the better half of the week, he’d spent his nights scouring the bookshelves for any text he could find on blood malediction -- there isn’t much to show for his efforts. Too rare a condition to have any extensive research done, he could barely manage to put together a few measly scrolls and one book with less than a full chapter on the subject. Sighing heavily, Jimin leans back in his chair, rubbing at his temples while he reconsiders the information for what feels like the hundredth time.

It fits the fact that she has a blood condition… but it’s not right. There’s no mention of a potion or even of regularly experiencing sickness. Y/n is in the Hospital Wing like once a month. There wouldn’t be anything Pomfrey or Hoseok could do to help her if she was a maledictus…

He considers that maybe those things are part of blood malediction and that there just isn’t enough documentation for him to verify it. But there’s something nagging at him, telling him this isn’t right. He thinks back over everything he knows, trying to pull up the major details that could help him finally get some sleep. Ignoring the fact that he very well could doze off, even with his loud ass music, he lets his eyes close so he can think. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he’s sitting up in his seat, eyes wide as he recalls something said to him almost months ago, forgotten amidst everything else on his mind.

“What’s the deal with your roommate, Tae?”

“Who, Stephen?”

“No, not fuckin’ Stephen -- Jungkook!”

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Because Stephen doesn’t look at me like I’m the bane of his existence.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what you did to make Jeon Jungkook hate you, but it must have be serious--”

“Just tell me what you know about him, Tae.”

“I mean… nothing crazy, really -- an only child, comes from old money. Probably as old as the Malfoys or the Potters. His family’s the purest of purebloods. And always Gryffindors, just like the Malfoys are always Slytherins. It’s kind of nuts, having a family history like that.”

Jimin stumbles out of his chair, already making his way down the aisles of bookshelves, almost crazed with concentration.

Purest of purebloods -- there’s not a single pureblood family that isn’t documented in a registry… registry… regis-- aha!

Turning down an aisle designated for family registries dating back centuries, he scans the shelves at a lightening speed, finally coming to a halt in front of a tome titled Gryffindor Legacies. Hauling it from the shelf, he doesn’t even bother returning to his table, taking a seat right there on the floor.

Flipping straight to the back to search for the family name, he locates it easily and heads to appropriate page. Searching the family tree down generations, it takes him several pages of flipping through Jungkook’s ancestors’ lives to finally get to his parents. They’re the most recent entry -- new editions of the book are printed with each new generation, the original, handwritten copy belonging to the respective families. It’s an inefficient system for sure, but Jimin’s not exactly complaining when he’s the one benefiting directly.

Scanning the page, from the birth of his mother -- Jeon Eunha -- to her school days, from her marriage to his father all the way to Jungkook’s birth. Jimin expects the next part to follow the same structure of his mother’s story, recounting his childhood, but it diverges from that almost immediately with some extra lines that he almost feels don’t exist in the original copy at the Jeon family residence.

Not long after the birth of their first and only child, they were met with circumstances leading to the adoption and care of another, the recently orphaned infant girl, Y/n Y/l/n. In her days at Hogwarts, young Eunha had become friends with a female Ravenclaw student, who had a noticeably sickly pallor about her at all times. She was to become her closest lifelong friend. The same night in which Y/l/n was to give birth to her first child, she and her husband met an untimely fate in the form of a violent animal attack in the backyard of their own home. The Jeon family were the first to arrive at the premises, deciding immediately to take in the infant child and raise her alongside their own son. Not much else is known about the girl, only that she and the Jeon heir were to become inseparable.

Jimin stares down at the page, unblinking. There’s a lot of information to process, but the things that stand out most to him are the fact that Y/n’s mother was also apparently afflicted with the same illness as Y/n, and --

‘Violent animal attack’? I knew the car accident thing was bullshit, but… did her mom not even die in childbirth? Why would she not tell me… there’s nothing suspicious about an animal atta--

Almost like his brain has started to short-circuit after the long nights and lack of sleep, Jimin’s thoughts are gone instantly, replaced by the mental image of a book sitting not a even a few aisles away, on a table littered with all of the information he’d ever needed in the first place. He’s completely incapable of registering anything around him as he races back to his table, his mind flipping incomprehensibly between the information in front of him and all of the pieces of his memories, details that make too much sense in this moment to match anything but this one conclusion.

Most Muggles, however, will die from the extent of their injuries… all known instances of Muggle attacks have been portrayed in the media as ‘animal attacks’ so as to preserve the secrecy of the wizarding world…

Given the extent of the available research and data, collected almost entirely from male subjects afflicted with lycanthropy, not much is known about the hereditary components related to a female werewolf. Therefore, it is unknown if a pregnant female werewolf's transformations would affect the ability to carry the pregnancy to term…

Without any humans nearby to attack, or other animals to occupy it, the werewolf will attack itself out of frustration…

“My mom died in childbirth and my dad… just a… just a freak accident you know, no one’s fault or anything…”

Because werewolves only pose a danger to humans, companionship with animals whilst transformed has been known to make the experience more bearable as the werewolf has no-one to harm and will be less willing to harm themselves…

“You want to talk about forbidden, Jeon? Let’s talk about your illegal animagus status-”

The way one must imbibe it is very unique among potions, in that a goblet full of wolfsbane potion must be taken each day for a week preceding the full moon…

“…you know how long it takes me to make a full set of vials for you. I barely have enough to make it last 3 days…”

The monthly transformation of a werewolf is extremely painful if untreated and is usually preceded and succeeded by a few days of pallor and ill health…

“He was lowkey carrying her down the stairs… she looked kinda sick actually…”

Throwing scrolls behind him without care as he searches for the one with the final detail, he pulls his phone out when he finds it -- a book listing all of the recorded moon cycles for over a century. Jamming his thumb down on the icon that’ll take him to his search engine and typing with blind panic, he finds himself yanking out his headphones by the cord with one sharp tug when the answer flashes back at it him on the screen, and he realizes that almost all of the pieces are in place.

The quidditch match against Slytherin -- it was the night before a full moon.

“No, no… no, no, no, this can’t be right. This isn’t happening, this can’t be right, she can’t be--” Jimin remembers the text he’d sent to her almost 8 hours ago, sitting unanswered, and he moves without thinking. Slamming his hands down on either side of the moon cycle record, he flips frantically to the cycle for this current month, April of 1978. What he sees there has his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Next week? It’s next week? But that means she’d have to be feeling the effects of it this wee--” He’s cut off by the feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches for it almost desperately. It’s Y/n, finally responding to his concerned texts with nothing more than a single line. His blood turns to ice when he reads it.

I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.

When Jimin bursts through the door of Dumbledore’s office just past 3am, the headmaster’s already seated at his desk, evidently waiting for him. He’s donning a light blue robe with a matching sleeping cap perched delicately on his head, suggesting to Jimin that he’d somehow woken up knowing he was soon to greet a guest. All of the panic invading Jimin’s body is masked just slightly by guilt, only now realizing how late it is and how intrusive he must seem in this moment.

“Mister Park, you certainly are out quite a bit past curfew, no?” Jimin stands in the doorway cradling all of the scrolls and books he’d been hoarding the last few weeks -- he can’t very well have left a huge pile of evidence back in the library. It would have taken no time at all for someone to look through it and see there were connections everywhere to lycanthropy, even if he himself had been blind to it for so long.

“... Park? Mister Park?” Jimin jumps, lifting his tired eyes to meet Dumbledore’s concerned ones. The man continues once he’s got Jimin’s attention. “Surely, you must need something from me, or you wouldn’t appear so…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. Jimin’s aware of the state he’s in -- the dark rings under his eyes, his ruffled clothes and hair, the way he’s holding his books like he needs to protect them with his life. He looks unhinged. He feels unhinged.

Realizing he has absolutely no idea how to approach the subject of a potential werewolf at Hogwarts with the school’s very headmaster, Jimin decides to start by moving toward the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

Maybe I just need to sit down and take a deep breath. That should help--

He doesn’t even make it two steps before one of the many books he’s holding crashes to the floor between them, falling open to the page he’d stuck a pencil in to save his spot. The moon cycle for April of 1978 stares back up at him, and when he flicks his gaze up to peer at Dumbledore, he sees the headmaster’s expression has hardened with caution.

“Professor--”

“Have a seat, Mister Park.” Jimin’s heart lodges in his throat at Dumbledore’s tone, never having heard such a sharp edge to the kind man’s voice. He moves to the chair, setting the obnoxious amount of research haphazardly in his lap. His eyes will only go so far as the top of Dumbledore’s desk, unable to bring himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“Sir, I… need to ask you something.” When he isn’t granted a response, he swallows hard, pushing forward. “If there were to be a student at Hogwarts with a… peculiarity of sorts… how would you go about dealing with that?”

“How would I deal with what, Mister Park?”

“That student.”

“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean.” Jimin lifts his eyes then, confused, but he’s met with a deliberately ignorant smile.

“Sir?” Dumbledore’s smile, albeit strained, only widens.

“I think you may be suffering from a lack of sleep, Mister Park. There are no students at Hogwarts with any peculiarities, as you call it.” Jimin stares suspiciously up at him, knowing Dumbledore can tell that Jimin doesn’t for a second believe that claim. Breaking eye contact, he glances down at his lap, trying to figure out how to keep this conversation going. Trying to figure out why he’s even here.

Jimin looks down at himself and the pile of incriminating evidence, cursing his idiocy when he realizes just how bad this situation must look. A student out of bed way past curfew, barging into the headmaster’s office holding weeks of research and making outrageous claims about a potentially dangerous student. And he’s a Ravenclaw no less.

Shit. He probably thought I was some nosy little fucker trying to expose her and get her expelled.

Knowing that he’s risking a lot by being straightforward, he takes a single deep breath and meets Dumbledore’s eyes, his own filled with determination.

“Sir, I know about Y/n Y/l/n, and I know you do, too. I need to know how to take care of her. I need to know how to help her. I need you to tell me what to do because, to be honest with you, I’m freaking out.” The way Dumbledore’s examining him as he speaks tells Jimin that he’s right, but more importantly, it tells Jimin that Dumbledore hadn’t been expecting him to want to help.

“That is a very serious accusation you’re making, Mister Park, especially in this political climate. Very serious.” Jimin doesn’t waver when he responds.

“I know, sir. That’s why you’re the only one I’ve made it to. Because I need your help. Because I know you can help.” Dumbledore narrows his eyes, peering at Jimin over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

“Have you considered the fact that just you knowing this information at all has placed Miss Y/l/n in more danger than she’s already in?” As soon as the words leave Dumbledore’s mouth, Jimin’s heart is stopping in his chest. All the times that Hoseok and Jungkook had told him to mind his business come rushing back, and he feels himself becoming sick to his stomach. Of course it’s more dangerous for her now that he knows -- he’d been too selfish to even think it through, too nosy for his own good. He had done all this to try to understand her, to try to be a better friend who can help when she needs it, but it’s all bullshit. Everything he thought he had done for her sake had actually been for his. For him and his stupid curiosity.

Lifting his head as a thought comes to mind, Jimin doesn’t even think twice before speaking.

“Can you erase my memories?” The headmaster’s eyebrows fly to his hairline, his expression becoming amused as Jimin continues rambling. “Can’t you obliviate me or something? Wouldn’t that be the best way for me to help her? Wait… but do you have to erase everything I know about her -- will I still know her? Can you make sure I still know her? I really like her! I don’t like Hoseok or Jungkook very much -- they kind of scare me -- but I like her! I don’t want to forget her, but also if me knowing that she’s a werewolf is only going to cause her more trouble, then I really think you should make me forget--” Dumbledore lifts his hand calmly, effectively silencing a frantic Jimin.

“Have you always had such a one-track mind, Mister Park?” Jimin smiles weakly, offering a half-joking response.

“It’s my only redeeming Ravenclaw quality…” Dumbledore chuckles before scratching at his forehead with a heavy sigh.

“Unfortunately -- and I do truly mean that -- I cannot erase a student’s memories. So, you and I will need to continue this difficult conversation.” Jimin considers the man’s words, knowing that it really would be better for everyone if he had his mind wiped clean and hating that he’d unknowingly put Y/n even more in harm’s way. He looks up when Dumbledore sighs again.

“Mister Park, you do understand that you are strictly forbidden from informing anyone else of this situation, yes?” When Jimin nods immediately, opening his mouth to assure the man that he wouldn’t say a word, Dumbledore only shakes his head. “No, Mister Park, I’m not sure you really understand. This situation is infinitely more complicated than you could ever imagine, so it is absolutely imperative that you keep this information to yourself.” Jimin blinks, unsure what’s meant by ‘infinitely more complicated’, but he nods again.

“I’ve put her in enough danger just by being here, Sir -- I’m not breathing a word of this to anyone.” Dumbledore examines him a moment longer, essentially staring into Jimin’s soul to gauge his trustworthiness. Eventually he nods, leaning back in his chair.

“What advice would you like me to give you, Mister Park?” Jimin stays silent, thinking hard about any way that he can make Y/n’s life easier, especially after all the trouble he’s caused up to now. His mind flashes back to the conversation he’d overheard in the library. He opens his mouth slowly, choosing his words with care.

“Sir… how does a student that isn’t even taking Potions know how to brew the wolfsbane potion? Isn’t it nearly impossible?” Jimin sees Dumbledore’s eyes flicker with recognition, and the headmaster responds cautiously.

“…If that student isn’t taking any kind of Potions course at all, they’d need to already be an expert from having dedicated all their studies to the art of potionmaking. They would also need an immense amount of private mentoring, even if they are taking Potions. We do not teach the wolfsbane potion in the curriculum. As I’m sure you can imagine, it wouldn’t fare well in these times…” Jimin squints, putting the pieces together quickly in his mind.

“And where would a student like that find this kind of… private mentoring?” The headmaster hums at Jimin’s question, peering down at him with knowing eyes.

“Well, Mister Park, if you wish to receive mentoring on much… safer forms of potionmaking, I’m sure Professor Slughorn would be happy to help you. However, if you are asking me about Mister Jung Hoseok of Slytherin House, and if you are wondering just how he became capable of caring for Miss Y/l/n at the young age of 13, well… you’re looking at his mentor.”

When Jimin leaves Dumbledore’s office almost an hour later, he feels like his head is going to explode. The nights of sleeplessness seem to also have come rushing back to him at once, and he’s not sure if he’s going to collapse first from the exhaustion or from the weight of everything he knows now. For a moment, he considers that maybe he really should ask someone to erase his memories -- Jungkook or Hoseok, perhaps.

Yeah, I’m sure they’d absolutely love to do me that favor.

Dragging his feet as he trudges down the corridor in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, Jimin stops short at a window when movement down by the Black Lake catches his eye. Almost as if thinking about them has caused them to materialize before him, Jimin watches the silhouette of Jung Hoseok stroll casually down by the shoreline, followed not long after by Jeon Jungkook racing toward him, a body perched precariously on his back. It’s not hard to see that Y/n’s clinging weakly to him as he runs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he keeps his hands hooked under her knees. Jimin can see that she’s got a gown on from the Hospital Wing, and it’s obvious that Jungkook and Hoseok have snuck her out from under Madam Pomfrey’s stern supervision.

They head for the Forbidden Forest, Y/n reaching back for Hoseok when Jungkook passes him. She beckons him forward, and Jimin watches as the three of them disappear together into the trees. He sighs deeply when he can no longer see them, muttering to himself under his breath as he makes his way to his room, overcome with extreme guilt at the entire situation.

“You’ve really gone and done it now, you fucking idiot.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #park jimin #jimin x reader

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

(More) Haikyuu boys as dads

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Bokuto Koutarou, Miya Astumu, Miya Osamu

(Ushijima ver.) | (Yaku ver.) | (Kita ver.)

Sawamura Daichi

wdym “dad”, do you not see his dozen of children?

he has been training for fatherhood since high school, he is ready

the standard good dad

comes home after work each day and gives each of his kids a big hug when they come to greet him by the door

does that thing where he lifts them up and let them sit on his arm, it’s really cute

strict when he needs to be

always manages to let the kids know what they have done wrong and why it is wrong in a way that doesn’t make them feel like they got yelled for nothing

Karasuno trained you well, Daichi

insists on taking the kids for outings every weekend when he doesn’t have patrol because “it is important to make sure the kids get enough fresh air”

his underclassmen is very hyped when they know you are expecting but he refuses to let them visit the first year the kid was born

“I have a strong feeling that they are not going to be a very good influence...”

however, the nursery is decorated with all the weird shit noya excitedly sent from literally everywhere in the world when he caught the news

so maybe they are already influenced

signs those parent-children events at the kid’s sports festival every year

very helpful with setting things up so he is very popular with the other parents

when his kids get a little older, he finds a lot of joy in playing up the “dad who embarrasses his kids” stereotype

always reminding his kids to eat, being picky is not allowed in the Sawamura household

not very good at comforting his kids emotionally, but gives solid good advice

the kids respect their father very much

Bokutou Koutarou

oh boy

no one is more excited about the arrival of the baby than he is

baby clothes shopping, picking the wallpaper for the nursery, building the crib, he is there with you all the way

wants to be a part of every step of their lives, even though it is hard because he is always away

video calls 24/7

(sometimes, you think he misses the kid more than they miss their dad)

always, always reminding himself to be gentle with the child

“Kou, why are you holding them like that?”

“What if I hurt them by squeezing them too tight...”

his child practically grows up watching his dad’s matches

somehow, even when they are throwing a fit, they always stop crying if you put on one of Bokuto’s matches

he is looking like uwu the whole day after you told him about it

“Hey hey hey! It seems like you’re going to grow up to be a great ace too, yeah?”

Child: *giggles*

“Ohhhhhh!!!!”

expert at making kids laugh

owl-themed everything

has a family pic as his lockscreen

shows everyone the kid’s photos

the entire msby team, every worker at the clubhouse, every passerby, every one of his followers on any social media, his entire family, every single one of his old school mates, and everyone’s dog knew when the kid calls him “papa” the first time

he is bit of a big child of his own

you caught him napping with the kid laying on his chest once and the resemblence is uncanny

(you snapped many many pictures of that moment and you take a look at them whenever parenting gets too tiring)

Miya Atsumu

you know

apparently it’s more likely for someone who is a twin to have twins

now, imagine Atsumu walking around with two mini Tsumus

Atsumu is very conflicted about the fact that the kids look so much like him

“It would be cuter if they look more like you though...”

“Miya Atsumu you must be kidding me.”

tries to hide his accent when the kids are just learning how to talk so they won’t be so confused but fails after the third day

as a result, they all got their dad’s thick accent

he had never been more grateful for his own parents because if his kids are like him then he must be such a pain to raise

gets super cocky when he knows that the boys watches his matches

“I’m only watching for uncle shoyo.”

“I like kageyama more."

...

"Tsumu are you ok.”

“No... just... let me calm down for a second...”

(but you know, you know that the kids secretly watch all of the existing video recordings of his plays)

(you feel like it’s better to not let him know until the kids got older though)

(just so he won’t ruin the respect they have for him)

dumb uncle Samu

“Dad, uncle samu said you still wet your bed until you were six is that true?”

“H U H-?????”

he decided that he’ll be supportive no matter what his children wants to do but he nearly cried tears of joy when they said they want to learn how to play volleyball

when the boys got older, they tried to have a Miya twins vs Miya twins match and it was absolute chaos

Miya Osamu

very glad that he doesn’t have twins

he thinks to himself, while looking at his twin getting bullied by his own kids

buys literally every single baby food recipe in the market

taste test everything himself before feeding it to his kid

is torn between keeping the kid out of the kitchen for safety and letting them watch so they can learn to cook soon

Onigiri Miya started serving kids menu after he became a dad

you are convinced that the new menu is so that he will have a valid excuse to keep trying out meals that his own kid will like

“Do you think we should come out with Onigiri Miya kids wear?”

“Samu, you run a restaurant.”

your child is not picky at all

Miya Osamu has one pride and that pride is that no food will taste bad if he is the one who cooked it

his kid always has the nicest bento out of everyone in their class

doesn’t get angry often but is very strict about not wasting food

the child made him breakfast for father’s day and he emitted an aura of sheer happiness the rest of the day

dumb uncle Tsumu

“Dad, uncle tsumu said you used to get sick all the time because you will eat everything and anything is that true?”

“H U H-?????”

the miya cousins are best friends

the dads, however, gets competitive with each other over the most trivial things

“My sons can spike better than you now.”

“Oh yeah? Can they cook as good as mine?”

“What are you saying?”

“Dad-”

“Dad please-”

“You are being embarrassing...”

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #sawamura x reader #sawamura imagine #bokuto imagine #bokuto x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya atsumu x reader #miya astumu imagine

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serasvictoria · 2 years

Note

🔥 + study

You know I had to. 😏

Just had to use Hvitserk for this one. Damn near killed me again.

By the way, I say that it's Hvitserk with an OFC in the tags, but she's an unnamed OFC. It might as well be a reader insert were it not for the fact that I describe a certain part of her anatomy. Blame Hvitserk for that.

“You ace this test and I will suck your dick.”

Hvitserk crumpled the piece of paper in his hand as he thought of the promise that she had made to him. Those were the terms that she had set and he was looking to collect his prize.

At first he hated the idea of getting a private tutor, but his mother had insisted on it and told him that his grades were simply unacceptable. He was determined to make this tutor’s life a living hell. He’d get them to quit as soon as possible if it was the last thing that he’d do.

He was 19 years old for god’s sake! How could he possibly be expected to do anything other than party all night long? That was what college was for, right? The reason why so many people even went in the first place. To get wasted and to sleep with as many people as you could.

It didn’t matter that Ubbe had done just that as well, but still came in top of his class. They were different people and he was convinced that no one was expecting him to outdo Ubbe.

Hvitserk’s grades had never been high at high school either, but he passed every single year so that should have been enough. His grades were “satisfactory” as his father had once told him and that was about as much praise as he could expect.

It wasn’t until he actually saw his tutor that all the thoughts of making their life a living hell left him completely. The tutor that he had been expecting was some kind of brainiac that built model trains on the weekend for kicks, but that was not what he got at all.

She was fucking perfect.

He’d seen her on campus a few times, but hadn’t been paying close enough attention since she was one year his senior. Though seeing her up close now, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed her before.

His eyes had been glued to her chest from the moment that she reached out to shake his hand. The buttons on her shirt were practically begging to be popped open. The fabric was working hard to even keep her breasts contained. It looked like they might end up spilling out if she ever took a deep enough breath.

It didn’t exactly make him focus on studying, his mind very much preoccupied with tearing her shirt open so he could suck on those perfect tits, but at least it gave him incentive to show up the following week.

And the one after that and so on.

Suddenly the idea of having a tutor wasn’t that dumb to him anymore. Not when his tutor looked like that.

The main problem was that his grades weren’t improving however. If anything, they were gradually dropping. The only bright side to that was that his mother had decided that Hvitserk needed to see his tutor five days a week instead of just once.

“I don’t understand how you could have gotten worse,” she groaned in exasperation. “How is that even possible?”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, more in the direction of her chest than that it was aimed at her face. “I’m trying so hard, but I can’t seem to get anything that you explained to stay up here.” He tapped his temple. “Maybe if I could sit next to you for once…”

“We talked about this before,” she replied. “You just kept trying to sneak peeks into my shirt rather than paying attention to what was on the page.”

“Can you blame me?” He gestured at her chest. “They’re begging for some air. I can hear them crying out to be freed every time that we meet up.”

Shaking her head, she tapped her ruler down on the page and he looked down at it for all but five seconds before he started sneaking glances in her direction. Her hands slammed down on the table so hard that he snapped out of it, trying really hard to focus on the words for once in his life.

“Okay,” she exhaled a deep breath and stood up. His eyes went up her body as she leaned over the table. “Pop quiz tomorrow.”

“What? That’s not-“

“Shut up.” She pressed the ruler against his chin and tilted his head back forcefully. “Ten questions. Ten buttons.”

“Ten buttons?”

“Buttons.” She enunciated the word so clearly that he was waiting for her to spell it out to him. Instead her free hand moved up to the top of her shirt and she skimmed a finger down over the buttons, counting them as she went. “You answer a question correctly, I open a button. Deal?”

Hvitserk gulped as she started moving her hand back up her shirt, fingers shifting to the side and following the curve of one of her breasts.

“D-deal.”

That night he had studied harder than he ever had in his life. All he had to do was read five fucking chapters. Piece of cake. He could do this. He would prove to her that he would be able to direct his attention to his studies if he was properly motivated.

In the end, he’d gotten eight out of ten questions right, but the only reason that he had not been able to answer two questions was because they had come from one of the chapters that he hadn’t read. Her idea of a joke.

Hvitserk had watched her with bated breath as she stood in the middle of his bedroom and opened eight buttons of her shirt. He had jokingly offered to do it for her, but she had sternly told him that she wasn’t going to allow him to do that. The bra that she had on underneath was slightly disappointing, it was plain and beige with a small bow in the middle, but when she sat back down at the table he couldn’t care less.

The book in front of him had never been less interesting to him and his eyes kept drifting back to her chest, following the movement every time that she breathed in. It only took him five minutes to reach out, his hand moving in slow motion, his fingertips so close that he could almost feel the warmth that radiated from her…

Whack.

“What the fuck!” He pulled his hand away and started rubbing the back of it. “Why the hell did you do that!”

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch me.” She hit him again with the ruler that she was still holding, his bicep this time. “So don’t.”

“So I’m expected to just sit here and look at you? No touching?”

“Nope. That’s not what we agreed on.”

“We didn’t agree on anything,” he whined, twisting his voice in a manner that usually helped him when he wanted to get his way. “You suggested this.”

“I did, but you didn’t stipulate any additional terms.” The ruler came down on his book with a hard slap. “Did you think that I’d just lay down on your bed so you could have your way with me?”

“Yes!”

“No.” She used her book to cover her chest so as not to distract him any further. “But feel free to come up with something yourself. You never know, I might just agree to it.”

“Okay. If I improve my grade, I get to fuck you.”

“No way. Start small and then expand on it.”

“Fuck.” He did his best to sound annoyed, but in truth, he was loving every second of this. “You drive a hard bargain.”

They negotiated back and forth for a while and eventually agreed that if he managed to get a good grade on his next test, that she would not only undo all the buttons of her shirt, but that he’d actually get to touch her breasts as well.

Amazingly enough, that had been the thing that he needed to get him to actually put some time into studying and he kept improving over time. The rewards got bigger after a while and it went from him being allowed to touch her to him being granted permission to have his hand underneath her skirt during study sessions. One of the last rewards had been something that had been more for her than for himself. He had asked if he’d be allowed to finger her and to his amazement, she had actually agreed to it.

But this was the reward that he had been steadily building up to all along. The sheer thought of her lips wrapped around his cock had been occupying his dreams for a while and he really wanted that particular fantasy to become a reality.

When she opened the door of her dorm room, his eyes almost rolled out of their sockets. He’d almost forgotten about the extra request that he had tacked on this particular time.

“Are you going to stand in the hallway all day?”

“No.” She turned around and walked to her desk as soon as he closed the door behind him. When she sat down, she spread her legs wide open for him, flashing him the pink underwear that she had on underneath. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Outfit like you imagined?”

“Even better.” It had been one hell of an idea to ask her if she could dress up like Britney Spears in that Hit Me Baby One More Time video. “Britney’s got nothing on you.”

“Thank you.” The smile that appeared on her face had a hint of shyness to it, but then she pulled her shirt open just a little bit more, giving him an even better view of the lace pink bra underneath. “Show me your results.” He swallowed heavily and approached her slowly. She extended her hand out to him and he gave her the piece of paper. When she had smoothed it out, she looked at the page and then a frown appeared. “Thought I told you to ace the test.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but there were questions on that test that I didn’t study for and-”

“No excuses,” she interjected. “You should have been prepared for anything.”

“I still passed.” Maybe if he tried to whine, he might be able to persuade her. Not that it had ever worked on her before, but you never knew. “I used to get nothing but average grades, but they’ve really improved, haven’t they?”

“Are you trying to persuade me into still giving you a reward?”

“Y-yes.” Hvitserk looked down at the floor. He knew what he had to do for him to get some form of compensation for his hard work. They had set these terms a while back after he had failed once before. He had whined until he was almost blue in the face that time, but nothing had worked. “I’ll try harder next time.”

“Oh lord, don’t give me those sad puppy dog eyes,” she said with a groan. “Just this once…”

“You’ll still do it?”

“No.” His face fell again almost immediately which made her sigh. “Will you let me finish first? Your grade is still good and this isn’t exactly your best subject. So maybe I set the goal too high this time instead of the other way around?”

“Maybe.” He tried to keep the sad look in his eyes up even if he was almost dying of excitement. It sounded like there was still a shot of him getting some kind of reward out of this. “So… what does this mean?”

“Well, I’d say that the blowjob is off the table completely since you didn’t get the grade that I wanted you to, but maybe something a little bit smaller?” Her white shirt had been tied together at the bottom and she undid the fastening. She pulled her shirt down her arms, threw it at him and then scooped her breasts out of her bra. He had to work very hard to stop himself from drooling. “Since you’re so obsessed with these,” she pointed at her breasts and watched the movement of his hand as he grabbed the front of his trousers which he pulled on to relieve a bit of the pressure. “How about I let you put your cock between them?”

Hvitserk almost choked on the spot and he started coughing uncontrollably. “Y-you’d let me fuck your tits?”

“Unless you don’t want to.”

“No!” The word came out as a shout. He cleared his throat and tried to recollect himself, but he was failing miserably. “I mean… I mean… Fuck! How could I turn that down!”

“So come over here.”

How his legs were even working right now was a complete mystery, but he managed to walk in her direction and come to a standstill in front of her. He watched her grab a tube of hand cream from her desk which she then proceeded to spread over her breasts to serve as a form of lubrication.

Reaching out, she hooked her fingers into the top of his jeans and pulled him closer until he was standing between her legs. One of her hands settled on the front of his trousers and she started rubbing over his bulge slowly. Hvitserk sucked in air through his teeth when she touched him, feeling her hand exactly where he wanted it was nothing short of amazing.

“Oh honey,” she purred at him. “Look at that. You really need me, don’t you?” He only barely managed to nod in answer to her question. “Let me help you out then. I’ll give you what you need.”

#prompts #smut prompts #vikings #vikings au #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk x ofc #mar writes #vikingstrash

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imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Arvin Russell - The preacher’s sins (1/2)

Requested by an anon, please enjoy it! It was too long, so I divided it in two parts. I’ll post the next one tomorrow!

Plot: there is nothing bigger for you than the love you feel for Arvin Russell. Not a lot of people can awaken what he does in you, with his cheeky smile and chocolate eyes. Now, a stranger threatens to break that bond, manipulating where it hurts the most.

Warnings: It’s the devil all the time, and you know the preacher. So if you’re reading this, it’s because you’re alright with what’s about to happen. Anyway, violence and manipulation.

Arvin’s car was waiting for you when your shift at the café ended. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face when you thought about the upcoming events; a whole weekend just for the two of you, in your house since your parents were away in a business travel. That meant you could sleep in the same bed, have your own space and dream about finally moving in together. As you crossed the street jogging, your bag hanging from your left shoulder, you thought you could get used to it.

He was smoking, looking ahead and lost in his thoughts. Some wild strands of hair had fallen on his face, making him look a bit more childish that usually. Arvin Russell looked as handsome as ever, and for two whole days, would be handsome only for you.

“Arv” you announced your presence when you climbed in the seat beside him, rubbing your arms in an attempt to get ride of the rain’s coldness.

“Hey, pretty girl”

Arvin dropped his denim jacket over you, and while you put it on, he threw his cigarrete through the window’s car, moving his hand around to get ride of the smoke. Once he made sure you wouldn’t choke with it, he closed the car’s windows and looked at you with a half-smile.

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening” you giggled softly, enjoying that moment of excitement and peace.

“Hope ya haven’ changed your mind” Arvin quickly pressed his lips against your cheek, before starting the car. “How was work?”

As you started talking about a cute dog which owner had let you pet, Arvin drove you to your house. He managed to listen to the story, drive safely and sneak a hand so that he could hold yours.

During most of the weeks, it was hard to see him. He was busy with his family and his part times job, taking what he could to earn a little money. Lenora took a lot of his time too, because she often got picked up by the bullies at highschool and Arvin insisted in picking her up every day. Then, he went with her to the grave yard to visit his mother, and he stayed with her until she finished. Sometimes, he would sneak for a few minutes and come visit you in the café, ordering the cheapest thing in the menu and watching you for afar.

Neither of you had a lot of free time. Your family, humble and hard-working, was also very conservative, so even if they accepted your relationship with Arvin, they didn’t like when he stayed at night. His family didn’t have a lot of free space neither, and if they had they didn’t see with good eyes sleeping together before marriage.

That week hadn’t been different. You had been working every afternoon until the sun came down, and then drove back home. The only difference was that you had been stopping briefly at the church, to talk with the new preacher. You knew Arvin didn’t like him – which was why the mood darkened on the way to your house.

“He ain’t good, Y/N” he grumbled, briefly looking at you.

“You don’t know him, it’s just – he’s new here, he needs a chance to prove himself” you defended. “I know what he did to your grandma was wrong, but we can’t judge him by one mistake!”

“It wasn’ just one mistake. He talks and talks ‘bout how everyone is a sinner but ‘im” Arvin protested.

“Arvin, please” you shifted closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be just a few minutes. He told me he needed my help with something, you don’t even have to see him.”

The preacher, indeed, had told you the previous day that he wanted to meet you in the church on Friday. You hadn’t told him your plans with Arvin, even if he was kind of interrupting your peaceful weekend with your boyfriend; probably, because you knew he wouldn’t approve you spending the night with him.

Deep inside, you knew that Arvin was probably right; he always was at the end, no matter what he was talking about. He was the one who said that the boy who Lenora’s was after wasn’t a good man, and now he had fun chasing her with a bag and awful words. There was something about the preacher that you didn’t like either, but you still didn’t know what. For now, you wanted to be on his good side.

“So? Can we stop?”

“I’d feel better if not” Arvin scoffed. “But I guess that’s a yes”

Arvin stopped on the graveyard, an empty place where the sun was setting already. It was dark and silent, and even you, who wanted to stop, were starting to reconsider the decision. You looked out the window, seeing that the church’s door was open and a dim light could be seen from the inside. Arvin exited the car without another word, and you knew he was pissed. He wasn’t too keen on sharing his feelings, even more when they weren’t of love or happiness.

You had been dating for seven months officially, and it had been ten since he asked you for a date after your shift at the café. There was no way you could make him talk about it and comfort him before the sun disappeared completely, so you decided to ignore him and walk towards the church. Still, before entering you looked back, half expecting him to be ready to leave and pick you later. But he had lighted up another smoke and was leaning against the car, looking to his feet.

Much less happier than before, you entered the church. You wanted nothing more than Arvin to be happy, and if you were up to wish anything, for him to have a better relationship with the rest of Knockemstiff; starting with the preacher.

He was sitting in the first row, reading from a small book. The faint lights you had seen came from the candles, which made the place much more scarier than usually. You didn’t think anything about it, not even when you made yourself heard by calling him and he told you to close the door. It was a cold, October day, so you guessed there was nothing wrong with it. After looking at Arvin once more, and receiving no smiles, you closed the door behind you.

“What did you want me for, preacher?”

“Come sit with me, Y/N” he patted the bench beside him, and you approached him. “You ever read the bible?”

“Um, a little. Lenora reads to me sometimes, a-and from what I hear on Sundays” you explained, not really wanting to say it out loud.

The truth was that you had never learned how to read. You had had to drop out of highschool at a young age because your mother had fallen ill, and your father couldn’t manage the family business on his own. With no money to buy books or material, your father had you help in on the shop. You were good with numbers, from years of experience, and you were starting to know what some words were written like thanks to Lenora and Arvin. But not a lot of people in Knockemstiff knew that you didn’t write the orders down in the café because you didn’t know how.

The preacher hummed, finally raising his eyes from the small book on his lap. He shifted closer to you, until you were sure you could hear his heartbeat. He showed you what he had been so focused on, and while you knew some of the letters, it all looked like garbage.

“This is my favourite part” he said, his voice soft but with a sharp edge. “Mom used to read it to me every night, too. You know it?”

“U-um, yeah” you said. Quickly, you tried to search for a word that you could understand. Lenora always read to you a passage of the bible when you went to their house, and maybe you could know what was it about. However, the preacher closed the bible before you had time to find it.

“God is merciful and benevolent, Y/N” he stretched one arm behind your shoulders, and you felt tears run to your eyes when you understood he knew it. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of – Arvin had managed to convince you it wasn’t, but you felt embarrassment crawl through your spine. “He forgives us all, all of our sins. But you know what is what he doesn’t forgive? Lies”

The back of your hair was grabbed with so much force that you emitted a low cry. If the door had been open, maybe Arvin would have heard you. But he angrily pacing around the graveyard, thinking about how he shouldn’t be so hard with you, and you were too afraid and embarrassed to scream any louder.

You were met with the preacher’s hard eyes, hateful and unforgivable. The back of your head throbbed from how hard he was gripping it, and finally a lonely tear made its way down your cheek. It seemed to offend him more, because he squeezed harder.

“You think you’re worthy of stepping into this temple?” he hissed, his hot breath making you shudder. “You think I wouldn’t find out that you can’t read? Or that you spend the nights with that boyfriend of yours?”

“Preacher –“

“Shut the fuck up!”

The nice man who you had been talking to the rest of the week disappeared in thin air, and you were thrown to the ground with a force you didn’t know the kind preacher had. A small cry of pain left your lips as your right wrist bent awkwardly against the edge of the bench, and you tried to move away. But the preacher had other ideas, because he hoisted you up until his face was inches away from you again.

You were sure he would just bash your head against the bench and Arvin would only have your cold body for the weekend when his face morphed, and that calm that always surrounded him was back. He sat on the bench again, and put his head against his hands, as if he was in deep thinking. Before you could think about running out of there screaming Arvin’s name, the preacher talked.

“Get naked”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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matryosika · 3 years

Text

shoot me, chapter VI

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III chapter IV chapter V chapter VI

word count for this chapter — 4.1 k

warnings — mentions of alcohol and emotional abuse

note — this chapter has no smut in it. still, the love-story gets completely developed here. next chapters will be filled with smut and angst so stay tuned! i haven't read this chapter because i wanted to upload it as soon as possible, so it may contain grammar mistakes. i will check it later since i have to go out with my family to have dinner! <3 hope you enjoy

taglist:@cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n @minaamhh @pinkishwen @spilledtee

[changbin's pov]

"so?" you asked him, modeling one of the dresses that you had previously selected from the expensive clothing shop "what do you think?"

she looks like a goddess.

"good" changbin limited to reply. "is that the last one?"

"c'mon you are not helping at all" you grunted, turning around slightly on the mirror to see the full silhouette of the dress "this might be the one, don't you think?"

i think so. i think you look perfect in all the things you have tried on, actually.

"it's alright" the dark-haired man reply "just take that one and let's get this over with"

"jesus, changbin" you whined "you are such a pain in the ass. if you were in a bad mood then you shouldn't have accepted to drive me here so i can buy a dress for the wedding"

you had been in korea for a month and 2 weeks now, your relationship with changbin growing unconciously intimate as you often engage in sexual encounters with him. you wouldn't say the both of you were close, but each day that passed by you could feel how you learned more about him just like he learned more about you too. you wouldn't consider him a good friend, since hostility made a presence every now and then between the both of you, but you had learned to spend time with him without feeling the need to put plugs into your ears and a blindfold to stop acknowledging his existence.

"if you needed help picking a dress" changbin interrupted, standing up from the seat he had been occupying for the last 45 minutes "you should've asked hyejin or ryujin to come and help you out, not me"

"hyejin is busy" you were quick to respond "ryujin had work today and you were the only other person i know that owns a car"

"cabs exist"

"yeah well" you made a pause, swallowing hard "i don't like cabs"

"you could've asked arthur to lend you his private driver" changbin tilted his head slightly.

"i get uncomfortable with strangers" you answered after a few seconds of being completely silent, changbin's gaze making you incredibly nervous.

"really?" he inquired, one of his hands traveling all the way to the pocket of his jacket as he pulled his wallet out. "why won't you just admit that you wanted to spend time with me?"

"fuck no" a grimace of disgust was quick to appear on your face "don't get confused. i would rather be dead than to spend more time with you than i already have to"

"yet you are still here" he teased "maybe i'm not as unbearable as your mind is trying to convince you i truly am"

with lazy steps he took the bunch of dresses that were piled up on the chair next to him, putting them all over his shoulder as he walked to the counter. "what are you doing?" you asked, still wearing the last dress you tried on.

"you are indecisive and i am starving" he said without even looking at you "i don't need to spend another 45 minutes here looking at how much you struggle to pick between 5 dresses, just have them all and pick one when you are alone"

you looked at him in desbelief "do you have any idea of how much just one of them cost? are you stupid?" you almost yelled in astonishment, looking at the figure of changbin slightly turning around to face you.

"i am not stupid" changbin reply "like i said, i am just hungry"

and currently thinking about how beautiful you are looking right now with that look of amazement on your pretty face. if i could, i would buy you the entire world just for you to destroy.

[y/n's pov]

"i will pay every single one of those dresses back before i leave" you mumbled, eating your food as if you had been starving for days "i had money, i didn't need you to come and rescue me as if i was some sort of damsel in distress"

"you were in distress though" he added, taking a sip of the drink he ordered "you took almost 30 minutes just to pick one dress to try on, you are really undecisive"

"yeah well, it's not like i had anywhere else to be" you replied.

"isn't arthur going to have a small gathering at his house today?" changbin inquired "like a pre-celebration of the wedding or something?"

you shrugged your shoulders "i don't know and i don't care. i am just here for the wedding and then i will be finally free"

you kept on eating your plate of food, confused as to why changbin's gaze stayed fix on you. "what, do i have something on my f-?"

"are you leaving right after the wedding?" he asked in a very hostile way, almost as if he had completely forgot that you were not going to stay forever.

"not right after but that's the main reason i came here, yeah" you replied, having a mixture of feelings inside your guts.

you couldn't deny the fact that you missed tsukuba, but living there meant to be trapped in the university dorms 24/7 just studying. but still, the lifestyle you have had for the past time was absolutely something you could get use to it: ryujin, hyejin, going out on the weekends, being free from school, changbin...

changbin?

"i still don't know the exact date though" you added "school doesn't start for me in another months so..."

"how is your life?" he asked, earning a weird look from you as you couldn't quite understand his question "in Japan, i mean"

you sighed. you had thought that living in japan was really good and you felt utterly comfortable living there until you arrived to korea and discovered a whole new life style that you had already learned to love. not only that, but leaving everything here was going to get you a bit nostalgic in the future. "it is great, better than people say it is honestly" you responded as he nodded "i live at the university dorms so life is pretty much everything but rushed. i spend my days at the library studying, i sometimes work as a shadow teacher for like 4 or 5 kids and on weekends i go and visit my mom and her partner"

"your mom got married after divorcing arthur?" changbin followed, just in time as he finished his dish of food.

"uh, it's complicated" you gave him a smile "she lives with someone and she is very happy"

"and are you?"

you were about to answer the question when you felt a pinch on your heart. a month ago you would have replied "yes" without a doubt. you thought you were happy living in japan, you thought you were happy when you visited thea, your mother, and reiko, her girlfriend. you thought you were happy when reiko made you her special coffee and you thought you were happy when they ocasionally visited you on winter nights at your dorm. you thought you were happy when you worked with children and spent time with them. you thought you were happy when you rode your bike from school to work and you thought you were happy when ryejin visited you and your mom on the holidays.

however, you had learned a new definition of happiness here.

"are you?" you fired back.

changbin slightly tilted his head as he laid completely back on his seat "i could be"

"what is exactly stopping you from being happy?" you asked him, intruiged.

"even if i explained it to you" he mumbled "i don't think you will be able to understand it"

"ah, there you are again" you scoffed, slightly rolling your eyes "your god complex has not show all day. i guess you missed it."

"c'mon" he grunted, raising his hand at one of the waiters at the restaurant "let's go somewhere else"

"where exactly?" you laughed "to your place? your car? a motel? jesus changbin, you can't really go a day without fucking, can you?"

"that's not actually what i had in mind" he replied, taking out his credit card as he saw the waiter approaching the table "but i mean if you want to fuck i won't say no"

"you had something in mind?" you asked, faking excitment "for me? you planned something for me?"

"if you want i can drop you at arthur's place right now so he can force you to have dinner with him and his bride. it's up to you"

you weren't really feeling like spending "quality time" with your father, and you also knew that hyejin was probably not going to attent the dinner, so there was no point of you being there. but at the same time, the thought of spending time with changbin doing non-sexual activities was something that it always made you nervous for an unknown reason, and you were feeling particularly nervous today.

"whatever"

the evening went on peacefully and that alone was unreal. he drove you to the center of seoul and suggested to take a walk around the most popular avenues because "the city looked better at night", something you have always believed too.

changbin was attractive and, even though your personalities crashed every damn time, you couldn't deny the fact that there were some sort of intimate bond going on between the both of you since that very first night at the bar. still, you wouldn't accept it. you wouldn't accept that the one person you disliked the most was starting to change your mind.

and you couldn't get yourself to trust him either. you couldn't trust any men, for that matter.

"have you thought about which dress you are going to wear tomorrow?" he asked so casually, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket as his gaze diverted from building to building.

"no" you replied, trying to get back at the trail of thoughts you had been threading since you left the restaurant with him. "have you?"

"have i thought about the dress i am going to wear tomorrow?" he laughed "i don't know, it will depend on which one you lend me"

"i got distracted" you admitted "but i will try on all the dresses tomorrow morning and i will give you the rest of them so you can return them to the store"

"i won't do that" he clicked his tongue "i bought them for you"

your heart skipped a beat after hearing those words and it was everything but pleasent.

"i don't want them"

"you can't reject a gift" he mumbled "that's the whole point of a gift"

"i will sell them on the internet" you threatened.

"do it, at the end of the day they are yours" he gave you a side look while smirking "but i wouldn't sell them if i were you. you look good in them"

"oh so you want to give opinions about the dresses now, huh?" you asked, mildly annoyed "you could've help me back at the store but you chose to be grumpy"

"at least i am helping you now"

"you are unbearable" you whispered.

a bright smile was quick to appear on his face. a genuine smile, as if he was enjoying the conversation. not only the conversation but the whole moment: you and him, walking around the city and talking about something so casual and trivial like which clothes you were going to wear tomorrow or which dress he liked best on you.

and for a moment it felt nice.

you felt safe.

"the red one was pretty" he added. you looked at him confused, once again lost in your trail of thoughts. "the red dress, the one that you tried on last"

"good" you responded "i'll make sure not to wear that one"

"you hate me that much?" he teased while a faint chuckle left his lips.

"oh changbin, you have no idea" deep down knowing it wasn't more than a vile lie.

you looked in the mirror one last time before you heard hyejin calling your name once again "y/n, how long will you take? i need to stop by the bakery to pick up the wedding cake"

"i'll be out in a minute" you replied, noticing how your hands got sweatier by the second.

you were quite nervous, but couldn't really understand why. maybe the sole thought of your father having his "happy ending" made you jealous because you knew that he did not deserve that at all; he didn't deserve the love he had.

the emotional abuse your mother and you suffered throughout your childhood and adolescence was not something that could be fixed in a month or two and you were certain about it. no matter how happy your father was, you couldn't help but to feel jealous about how he never had to suffer like you and your mother did.

and even though you got over your negative feelings towards him, the scars and aftermath of an abusive household still caught up on you: the mistrust, the negativity, the hostility and the lack of commitment were things you had to deal with on a daily basis.

of course he was the one to blame. but you were an adult now, and you were supposed to deal with all those issues by yourself. no one was going to fix them for you.

"jesus y/n, we are running late" hyejin busted the door open "are you ready now?"

"yes" you were quick to respond, grabbing the purse on your bed and trying to quickly divert from your sister's gaze.

"wait" she mumbled, gripping both of your shoulder as you intended to the leave the room "why are you tearing up?"

"i am not" you replied "i yawned"

she didn't look convinced, but still decided not to push any further "i'll meet you in the car, i just have to grab a few things"

you nodded and made your way through the hallway. because of how rushed she was, you didn't have a chance to tell hyejin how gorgeous she looked. she was wearing a golden shiny dress that embraced her body just fine and carrying a maching clutch with it. she was really pretty, maybe the prettiest woman you had ever seen, and not only that but she was also very smart. any guy would be head over heels for her, but she still decided not to engage in a "silly love story" as she called them because "it is a waste of her precious time, and time is money"

you wished you had the same mentality as she did, but you grew up getting educated on how love was portrayed in books, movies and television. it was ironic how you were the first person on earth to deny that love actually existed, but you were still a hopeless romantic after all.

[changbin's pov]

"changbin, are you too far from the church?" haeun, his mother, asked desperately as changbin picked up the phone.

"i'm right outside" he grunted "i told you i was not going to be late"

"we are sitting on the second bench at the left of the altar" the old woman added "hurry up"

changbin hung up the phone and cursed under his breath. the weather today was maybe too nice for his own liking and his clothes were a bit too uncomfortable to be wearing them under the sun.

as quickly as he could, he closed the door of his car and started walking towards the entrance, making sure that the ceremony hadn't started just yet so he wouldn't make a scene.

"did you bring the gift?" jang-yeop inquired as he sat down next to him and changbin nodded "did you also bring your mother the pair of shoes?"

"yes" he responded "how long is this going to take?"

"40-45 minutes?" his father replied "i have no idea, what time is it?"

"7:02 p.m." haeun was quick to answer "now, the both of you shut up"

right after she mumbled those words, music started to sound on the church. changbin, being in a rush to get to his seat before the ceremony started, didn't notice that arthur was already standing up next to the altar and waiting for his soon-to-be wife. changbin's gaze was fixed on arthur, then it diverted into the bride walking down the aisle and then returned to arthur once again. he never thought about marriage or building a family. hell, he never thought about having a romantic relationship that would last longer than a few months actually. but as he grew older, and as he experienced new stuff, he wasn't sure if he still had the same mentality he used to have last year.

to changbin, arthur seemed genuinely happy. his half-lidded eyes along with that bright smile he was wearing indicated that the man was living one of the happiest days of his life. and as changbin witnessed that romantic scene, the question that popped up in the conversation he had with you last night grabbed his attention once again.

what exactly is stopping me from being happy?

and before he could respond himself with words, his eyes had already found the answer: standing on the bench at the right of the altar and wearing that promising dark red dress that could drive any man insane, the woman he never dreamed of looking just as beautiful as the very first day he met her.

not being able to have her completely.

[y/n's pov]

after the ceremony, a big party was held at a very elegant event hall located in one of the tallest buildings of seoul. you were not particularly excited about having to see arthur's side of the family, but you still managed to keep yourself together the whole time.

"you are wearing the red dress" a sudden voice whispered into your ear as you were counting the tables that were still missing their dinner plates, an order given by hyejin. you slightly turned around to meet changbin's breath dancing on your neck and nape, goosebumps filling every single inch of your skin due to the proximity.

"congratulations" you sighed "your vision is crystal clear"

"i have been watching you since the ceremony" changbin added "i can't help but think about how pretty you are going to look when you are taking that dress off for me"

a spark of electricity traveled around your whole body and directly into your core. you immediatly looked around and notice a few people who worked for arthur's company sitting not that far away from the both of us "do you really want to do this here?" you asked "aren't you scared of being caught by any of arthur's friends?"

"are you concerned about that now?" he chuckled "that didn't seem to bother you at the company's elevator"

"c'mon" you whispered, your back slightly pressing against his chest "i have to help hyejin with some stuff"

changbin slightly gripped your hand and guided you to the dancefloor that was crowded with couples dancing around "i am sure that she can handle all of this by herself"

before you could protest, you took out your phone and sent her a message with the information she asked for. you had no idea what changbin was up to, but you still decided to follow him.

changbin positioned his hands on your waist as he gracefully dragged you across the dancefloor, looking for a spot in the middle of the crowd so it would be easier for the two of you to get lost.

"you are spending the night at my place" he mumbled over the slow songs that were now playing. it wasn't a question nor a petition, it was an order.

"yeah right" you chuckled "if you are too desperate to fuck we can do that, but i am not fond of sleepovers"

the thought of you spending the night with him was terrifying, but you would've been lying if you said that you hadn't think about what it would be like to wake up next to his him.

"i wasn't asking" he responded. "tell me when you are ready to leave".

with a swift movement, your whole body was pressed against his, his hands resting on your lowerback as you both swinged from side to side, following the rythm of the song. this was a whole new side of him that you didn't know it existed, and you couldn't deny that you were loving every second of it.

"who thaught you how to dance, huh?" you asked, your gaze fixed on his eyes that looked even brighter because of all the lights adorning the hall.

"there is so much about me that you don't know" he replied.

"oh i know everything there is to know about you, changbin" you scoffed "but let's see if you can keep surprising me"

it wasn't even midnight but people were already starting to get completely intoxicated with alcohol. arthur had spent the night dancing with ara and, after she was done being the unofficial wedding planner, hyejin ended up getting wasted with the small group of friends she invited to the wedding. you, on the other hand, spent the night dancing with changbin and eating your dinner with him.

it was not unusual to see the both of you together since you spent too much time at the company, but tonight it was sort of different. the looks he gave you, the way you two danced for hours on end, the way he was treating you... it felt different, a little bit more personal and intimate. his parents probably noticed this too, since they made a lof of comments about "how happy they were about us being really good friends". if only they knew.

"i think i am ready" you said to changbin after telling hyejin that you were going to spend the night somewhere else. she nodded her head and agreed to say, if asked, that "you were at ryujin's" even when she wasn't invited to the wedding in the first place. you just smiled at her and nodded, not leaving without telling one of her sober friends to look out for her.

"don't worry" the pretty pale girl mumbled "she will stay at my house tonight"

you glanced over to arthur and ara who were still having the greatest time of their lives on the dancefloor, and proceeded to walk away from the party with changbin. "you parents will stay here?"

"yeah, they will leave in an hour or so" changbin replied "i told them that you wanted to go home and that i was going to drive you"

"perks of living alone i guess" you joked.

the walk through the empty corridors of the building felt eerie as the loud sound of the music were still ringing in your ears. even though you were walking on your own, you could still feel changbin's ablazing touch on your body and that only provoked your heartbeat to go even faster.

as you waited for the elevator to open their doors, changbin's lips unexpectedly crashed against yours. it wasn't a passionate kiss, and it wasn't rushed either. it was just a kiss, an innocent kiss, a kiss you give to your significant other as a demostration of how much you love them. his soft lips dragged against yours as his teeth bite softly your bottom lip, earning a small whine from you. his hands, that were now located into your waist, guided you to the insides of the elevator once the doors were opened.

"you look so beautiful tonight" he whispered interrupting, his breathing getting faster each second that passed by "i can't get you out of my head"

his lips left yours to meet the sensitive spots on your neck, peppering soft kisses all over the surface. your gaze found the reflection of the scene in the mirror of the elevator, looking at how changbin was tasting every inch of your skin with his eyes closed, his rushed hands traveling all the way from your waist to your lower back trying to memorize every single trace of your body.

"i don't want to hurt you tonight" he continued "no roughness, no pain, no petnames. i want to make you completely mine, in the most pure way"

and for the night, you agreed to let your feelings out and let go.

no fear and no mistrust, you were ready to face the overwhelming feelings that had been building up inside you since the day you met him.

even if you could potentially regret it later...

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshots #seo changbin smut #kpop smut

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kenny-power · 3 years

Text

Gas Station Coffee

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Warnings: slight use of language,

Fluff

A/N - this is my first imagine for The Outsiders. IDK if anyone would actually read this, but please feel free to vote or comment, just so I know you're there! I also will try my best to keep the imagines gender-neutral to include everyone. Thanks so much!

✨✨✨

If there was anything I hated more than working the night shift of the rowdiest diner in town, it's the walk home. Feet sore, smelling like ketchup and stale coffee - it was the worst part of my mornings. Of course, I could get a car, but then I wouldn't be able to afford food for a couple of months. And I won't even think about asking for a ride home, the people who hang around the diner in the late hours of the night and early hours of the day are always unpleasant, coworkers included.

So, that leaves me stuck with walking home. Honestly, I'm probably being dramatic. The walk from the diner to my single-story family home is only about 30 minutes, 25 if I'm feeling particularly motivated (meaning I have something at home that I need to study for before taking a quick nap and going to school). Being a senior in high school and having to single-handedly support myself and my little brother is a real drag. It's tough, but it's life and if I don't do it, then nobody else will. Because there is no one else.

I never knew my father, and from what I gathered, he was a real bum. My ma is a different story. She was the light of my life, my best friend. As little as our small family had, she made the most of it. That is, until she passed away last year. Cancer is a bitch.

Anyways, tonight's shift was a hard one. There's a rodeo in town for the weekend, so the amount of customers there was more than double, yet the tips still sucked. I had gotten yelled at and berated by so many different people over the littlest of things. If I didn't need this job to survive, I would've quit a long time ago.

My head is pounding. Golly, I need a coffee.

Just in luck, I was about to pass a DX station. Now if I could help it, I would steer clear from coffee from a gas station, something about it is always a little off. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and I couldn't afford to be picky with the quality of my coffee.

Sighing heavily, I trudge into the station. The bell above the door rang cheerily, signaling my entrance. Faintly, I heard the person covering the front counter groan quietly. I stifled a laugh, I would probably have the same reaction to a customer coming in at 6:30 in the morning.

I made my way to the back of the store, straight for the beat-up coffee machine. Grabbing an insulated cup, I put it under the dispenser and waited for it to fill with the beverage. Yawning, I pick up the now full cup and trudge my way over to the checkout counter. Setting the coffee done on the counter, I start to rummage around in the apron I'm still wearing, looking for loose change.

"That'll be 35 cents," a male voice says softly. Pulling the change out, I finally look up to hand it over. I make eye contact with the cashier and, I kid you not, he was the prettiest boy I have ever seen. He gives me a faint smile and I realize I still haven't given him the change.

"Oh, sorry!" I say quickly, putting my quarter and dime in his outstretched hand, our fingers barely brushing. A small electrical jolt runs through our fingertips and we make eye contact again.

"Rough night?" He asks, gesturing to my unruly hair and stained Dingo uniform.

"Ugh, yes," I groaned, trying to comb through my hair with my fingers. "There's a rodeo in town this weekend and apparently everyone there wants to eat at the Dingo." He laughed a little and my heart skipped a beat. What a beautiful sound.

"You work at the Dingo?" He asked.

"Every week-night and during the day on weekends."

"Wow, that's a lot. You look don't look old enough to have a full-time job. Do you go to school anywhere?" I smiled wearily, I get this question all the time.

"I'm a senior at the high school, I just work a lot to support me and my little brother." The boy's face brightened. What a truly beautiful sight.

"I do the same thing! I work here to help my brother Darry with the bills, only I don't go to school anymore." I smiled at his excitability.

"How very noble of you, brother-of-Darry."

"It's Sodapop, actually." He said.

"That's your actual name?" I asked.

"Says so on my birth certificate," he replied.

"What a wonderful name," I said, "very original." His face colored red.

"Well, my pops was an original person," he said proudly.

I told him my name.

"It suits you, except for that last name bit. Bet I could convince you to change it." Now it was my turn to blush.

"Are you flirting with me, Sodapop?"

"What if I am?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the counter and getting closer to me. "What you gonna do about it?" My heart fluttered inside of my chest and If I could have any turned redder, I probably would have. I cleared my throat, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Oh my, you are too much." I checked the watch on my wrist for the time. "Oh shoot, I need to go home." I smiled at him and turned to leave, coffee in my hand.

"Wait!" He said, catching my arm. "Can I see you again?"

"Maybe," I said, raising my coffee cup in a toast and smiling at him. "Bye, Sodapop." I stepped out of the DX and took a sip of my drink. Disgusting.

Yet, I somehow knew that I'd be coming back for more gas station coffee.

#the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #sodapop curtis #sodapop x reader #80s #ponyboy michael curtis #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston imagines #darry curtis imagines #darry curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle

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