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dreamcatcherrs · 3 years

Note

a high school prom au where the reader and Dream are like childhood best friends and the readers date shows up with someone else then when the reader feels all lonely, Dream is like “what if we danced🥺” ??? anyways love you and your fanfics you’re like my favorite writer on tumblr💖💘

+ this is such a cute concept! I’ve never written anything like this, but I hope it was what you wanted<3

++ also this is such an old request, I’m so sorry

prom night - dream

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: high school au! dream x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after being abandoned by your prom date, the person you expected the least to spend the night with asks you for a dance.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.501

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, swearing, slight mention of alcohol use.

song recommendation: love on the brain - rihanna

you couldn’t believe your eyes.

there your date stood, arm wrapped around a person that you for sure knew wasn't you. the excitement disappeared from every corner and edge of your body, hands falling to your sides in complete disappointment.

proudly, your so-called date stepped forward in line with a smile on their face, waiting to be the next for the photo shoot the had been set up. your smile was gone. and so was your passion for continuing this prom.

looking down, you turned on your heels, walking away from the great asshole of a date, and finding an empty seat by one of the available tables.

you’d wondered why it took so long for your date to arrive - you should’ve known, really. but no - now you were just left sitting alone by an empty table. what was the point of even being there anymore when all you could feel was loneliness?

everyone else was having fun, partying and smiling about the night ahead of them - just like you should’ve been. but now, you were just left with feeling disappointed in yourself. how could you make yourself believe that someone actually wanted to bring a date like you to the prom? what were you thinking?

you sighed deeply as you rested your head in the palm of your hand, other hand busy with tracing the cutouts on the table.

“just go over there, man!”

“yeah, they’re just sitting there all alone… this is your perfect chance!”

clay scratched the back of his head, staring down at the drink in his hand.

“I don't know… what if they say no?”

george and nick both rolled their eyes. the only one who really believed that was gonna happen would be clay. it was crystal clear to literally everyone else that the two of you had developed feelings for each other over the many years of knowing one another. clay would always brush it off with a “we’re just friends”, but really, he knew they were right.

he’d known you since he was 8 and you 7 - having been best friends since that day and until last year. you'd kinda… broken off since then. as you grew older, more important things had distracted you from keeping the connection, and eventually, you just slipped away.

he knew he liked you as more than a friend. but he was certain you didn't.

after all, you wanted to go with a complete dickhead, who ditched you anyway. and now look where you were.

“hey guys~ why are you wasting the night just standing here? let’s party!” karl slurred as he came crashing into george and nick, swinging both arms around their shoulder from behind.

as george was busy pushing karls’ arm off of him, and nick pulling him closer, clay’s eyes were only focused on you. you looked so… sad. no one should be sad on their prom night, and frankly, maybe his friends were right.

before he knew it, his feet dragged him across the dance floor, towards your place on the chair. george’s eyes widened, a big smile spreading across his face, showing off his braces.

“would you two stop flirting with each other and watch what is happening right now?”

nick and karl giggled.

“why, are you jealous gogy?” nick teased, causing a light shade of pink to brush across george’s cheeks.

“shut up-”

“hey.”

the second you broke away from your melancholy stare at the table, your heart started racing and a wave of sweat danced across your skin. he hadn't talked to you since… you couldn’t even remember the last time.

lifting your head off your hand, you sat up straight, watching as clay scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“hi,” you responded, voice quiet and unsure.

why was he talking to you all of a sudden? after all these months with absolutely no contact with each other, now he wants to talk to you? on the other hand, it’s not like you'd been very communicative with him either…

clay hesitated slightly, shifting on his feet. “why are you sitting here all alone? I thought you had a date?”

you sighed, corner of your lips turning down slightly. “yeah… they ditched me.” you looked away from him, feeling somewhat embarrassed that you'd let yourself get into a situation like that.

clay felt bad. how could someone let go so easily of someone as perfect as you? on the other hand, this meant that no one else could have you - and that made him kind of relieved.

he hesitated a little before speaking up again; “what a dickhead.”

that made you laugh a little. “yeah.”

silence approached after that, and a tension started building up. the both of you could feel the unspoken words you'd been keeping from each other rise up - yet you remained quiet.

after all, there wasn’t really anyone you could blame your fading friendship on - apart from yourselves.

clay cleared his throat, as a new, slower song came on, hand reaching out in front of him, hovering right before you. your eyes trailed along his tux-clad arm and up to his eyes, noticing the withheld love in them.

“do you wanna dance with me?”

you blinked at him, thankful that the fluorescent lights made it hard for him to see the blush on your cheeks. your heart felt as if it was pounding out of your chest.

“I-,” you stuttered, recollecting yourself quickly before placing your hand into his, fitting perfectly right into his palm. you smiled up at him softly. “I’d love to.” he smiled back to you, gripping onto your hand and lead you through the large crowd of people onto the dance floor.

he turned to you, taking in how absolutely breathtaking you looked right then. it was hard for him not to blurt out compliments at you at any given chance.

his hands found their place on your waist, and you let your hand snake around his neck, resting right where his haircut ended. it tickled him in a way that made him realise just how much he had missed your touch - hell, even talking to you reminded him of how lonely he’d felt without you.

slowly, the two of you swayed from side to side along to the song, just staring into each others eyes. clay sneaked a glance down at your lips, quickly averting his eyes again once you parted them.

“I’m really sorry we haven’t talked for so long,” you spoke, twirling a finger around one of his locks. “I miss it a lot. I missed you, clay.”

you stared at him with a look of guilt, biting down on your bottom lips once you'd finished your sentence. you looked down again, feeling sorry that you hadn't reached out to him before.

clay moved a hand to your cheek, tilting your head upwards so you'd look at him again. your eyes widened at the touch of his fingers, and you melted into his hand once his thumb bushed across the soft skin of your cheek.

“I missed you too, y/n. don't be sorry about that - I could’ve reached out too, y’know? we’re both guilty on that note. but, now that I can finally talk to you again, I don't wanna worry about the past, okay? I just want you to have a good night.”

you smiled softly at his words, feeling a wave of forgiveness wash over you. it felt good to know that you had your friend back again.

“I don't think my night can be ruined at this point,” you smiled, moving your hands from his nape to his shoulders instead.

“well, can I still make it a little bit better?” you raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head to the side slightly.

his eyes fell down to look at your lips again, this time not being able to hold back from the temptation.

your lips attached to his.

and everything around you just stopped.

your eyes fluttered closed, leaning into the kiss once you realised what was happening, only making him pull you closer to him. his lips moved so gently, slowly against yours, a withheld desire finally being released.

who cared about the things that’d gotten in the way of your friendship? all that mattered right now was this very moment - that’s all that ever mattered.

“yes clay!”

“finally he fucking did it.”

the yelling coming from karl and nick from a distance away made the two of you break away from each other, turning your heads to the direction of them. george elbowed nick in the stomach to stop him from jumping into the air, revealing their spying spot.

you chuckled lightly at them, slowly turning your head back to clay with a lick of your lips. clay sent them a nice “fuck off” with his middle fingers, before also returning to the current situation and smiling at you widely.

“better now?”

you smiled wider at that. if only he knew.

______________________________________

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prettynxsty · 3 years

Text

Spandex

Sub!J-Hope x Domme!Reader

Warnings: polishing (cock head play), power bottom-ish hoseok, hoseok has a pussy, risky semi-public sex, its not really a kink but cameltoe 🥴, impregnation kink, biting, mild sweat kink?, nipple play, nothing short of a creampie

Summary: We barely have a plot this time, reader and Hobi go to Jin’s barbecue and get terribly nasty in the bathroom.

AN: We have the appearance of ot7 in this fic. This was another product of my horrible imagination, enjoy. Sidenote, they’re not kissing each other on the mouth, it’s cheek to cheek as a greeting.

“Are you sure about this?” You peered over at him warily, glancing back at yourself in the mirror.

“Of course, we’re going to be the best dressed there.” Hoseok turns to you with a pointed look, ceasing the fussing over his hair. “Are you doubting my styling abilities?”

“Not at all, but..” You start but trail off in defeat, you knew exactly how stubborn he could be.

“The only person that’s going to be looking at your dick is me,” he turns back to the mirror to fuss over himself, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You threw your hands in the air, grabbing the pair of leggings off of the bed and will yourself to step into them. Sighing through your nose, you decide to tuck your dick into one of the legs instead of letting it rest in a nearly ridiculously sized bulge.

You absolutely loved the idea of wearing matching outfits to Jin’s barbecue, however you never would have guessed that your fiance would put you in such a predicament. Instead of leggings, he wore an irreverent pair of biker shorts that were cut higher than what could have been legally allowed.

You scratch at your bicep for a brief second before grabbing your button up off of the bed. You slip it over your arms, folding the collar down before working the buttons from the bottom to the top. You admire the graphic print as you grab two tails on the sides and twist them neatly before tucking them under the rest of the fabric. You take your time, pulling up the waist of the leggings and achieve the perfect tuck of your shirt.

In contrast, Hoseok’s top was cropped to flash a sliver of his belly and waist chain. He must have had the mind to subtly (loudly) outshine your friends, should any of them have decided to wear matching outfits with their own partners.

“Okay, how do I look babe?” His voice takes you out of your meticulous fretting, turning from the bathroom to where he stood in front of the dresser.

You step back into your house slippers, shuffling out to get a better look.

You remembered why summer had become a close second, if not first to your favorite season. His loose curls swish with life, breathing deep praline chestnut. His cologne smells fresh with a twist of sweet tang, like an ice cold lemonade that kisses you good afternoon during the hottest days.

His skin was halfway between his stunning butter pecan to his deeper toffee with a little rosy flush. He chews on his bottom lip with a cheeky smile, he loved when you got that look in your eye. Hoseok drops his arms and places his hands over the front of his waist, shimmying his shoulders and hips.

Seamless. Your eyes dip down to where his shorts began, coasting a hair above the middle of his thigh. The crotch of his shorts hug his slim little mound and dip in touch, showing exactly where his pussy lips split apart. His inner thighs stretch and sway with each little happy swing of his hips.

“What do you think? What do you think?” He squeals, turning to the side and glancing at himself in the mirror. Your heart beats a little harder for a moment, reminding you that it’s still there. His ass bounces just slightly under the give of the spandex, curving gorgeously from the small of his back.

“I like it a lot, and I can really move in it!” He turns his back to you, arching slightly and spreading his feet before bouncing his ass.

“Keep playing and we won’t make it to Jin’s barbecue.” You wag a finger at him, turning back toward the mirror in the bathroom.

“You know, we could do it right now.” His lips lift into a smile, eyes shimmering with thought unholy. You knew then that you were in for it, you just didn’t know when.

“Not a chance, Jin won’t ever let it go.”

You should’ve thought that the heat was disgusting, abhorrent. Although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it, something about it was nostalgic.

The sun’s rays burned your skin in a way that made pleasant fuzzies creep into your chest. Your forehead is damp, but it doesn’t drip. The light outside was clearer, defining the world’s colors.

Sinewy, fibrous clouds spread and stretch over the expanse of blue overhead. The breeze is ever changing, gusts that warm you and gusts that cool you in concatenation.

Jin’s fence is built of high, wood stained cognac. He didn’t fix the pool for the season yet, everyone preferred to swim during the thick of temperature. You enter through the back, hailed with the warmth of friendship.

The first to approach you is Taehyung, the flush of his cheeks is of the sun’s kiss, not yet too many beers had. The can swishes in his hand as he wraps his arms around you, giving your back a firm pat before pressing his cheek to yours in a kiss.

You rub his back just before he pulls away and greets Hoseok just the same. Nearest to you is Yoongi, to which you slink up behind his chair and sling an arm over his shoulder. His fisherman’s hat brushes your ear as his warmer cheek presses against yours, greeting him.

Jimin’s sandals scrape over the concrete bricks as he approaches you, arms wide open with two damp bottles of ale in between his thumb and index finger. He eagerly receives your kiss in greeting, pressing the bottle into your palm before moving to show love to his old friend.

You enter the semicircle of chairs, kissing Namjoon from his chair before you are yanked into Jungkook’s embrace. Leaning on the tips of your toes, you kiss him and squirm with a noise of alarm.

“Sweaty?” He chuckles, squeezing you before stepping back.

“Ew, yes.” You catch on to his laughter, brows scrunching together.

“Wouldn’t be as bad if hyung cleaned his pool so we could swim.”

“So you could throw us all in one by one? I think I’m good.”

Jungkook runs his fingers through his damp hair, combing it back. “You’ll be alright, he’ll get it cleaned soon anyway.”

You shake your head, lovingly patting his shoulder before making your way toward the grill.

Jin stands back from the smoke, spatula in one hand and the other propped on his hip. His face is hard with concentration, breaking into something relaxed as you approach.

“This should have been a potluck, I’m already tired.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead over the back of his wrist, leaning down to receive your greeting.

Old friends, new friends, friends of friends, and friends of Jin slowly fill out the rest of the backyard, growing a sense of liveliness about you.

You eventually needed a break from the music, dropping yourself in a chair with a plastic cup full of something wild. Jin’s Juice, he liked to dub it. Something that opened the back of your brain and let loose the versions of yourself trapped under your skin, behind the glass of mirrors.

It really should’ve tasted like gasoline, this stuff. But he managed to make it taste like the past. Near an elixir, it was your tongue’s choice to decide what it was. Your tongue this time decided to open, you’re pleased with the mouth smacking tang of lemon, balanced with kisses of sugar and bubbles that sparkle over your tongue.

You pant, carefully pouring away the rest of the drink into a mouthful before tossing it toward the garbage can nearby.

Hoseok notices immediately that something is amiss, slipping his way through a thicket of dancing bodies, swinging, undulating limbs and parts. The pit of his stomach is warm and glowing with coconut rum. His giddy smile widens into a grin that bares his beautiful top row of chompers when he spots you.

He flounces over, dropping himself on your lap, slowly leaning his back against your chest. He turns his head, his lips clumsily passing over the folds of your ear.

“... thought you left.”

The tickling of his breath makes your stomach flutter, you’re not in a place to hide your feelings right now.

“Nah, it’s just hot.” You murmur against the nape of his neck.

He hums in reply, leaning forward and planting his hands on your knees to plant his feet properly. You lean your head back against the chair. You weren’t sure if it was on purpose or happened to be your luck, but Hoseok fully sat himself on your bulge, thighs spread over yours.

The music crawls up his toes like a current, rushing up his body. His shoulders sway back and forth, though it doesn’t take long for his hips to follow.

He glances dramatically over his shoulder at you, lips pouting and spreading around word after word in the current song. His lower back curves and swivels with each wicked grind forward. He spreads his thighs further apart, bouncing his ass over your bulge.

Your lips together, popping out around a single word. “Please.” Your voice is lost in the sound. Your hand molds under the thick of his ass, squeezing it.

He’s only fueled by the burn and yearn, tongue poking through his teeth. His chest bounces with a chuckle that could only be called satisfaction.

Your hand slips around the back of his thigh, dragging your fingertips over his stomach. The small links of his waist chain graze against your palm

A whisper from the back of your skull reminds you that the sun is still high and you must respect the decency of other eyes. He was beautiful, pulling you under, bewitched.

You swallow noisily, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his waist to cease his grinding.

“Bathroom.”

His brows shoot up in surprise, stunned before he squirms in your arms as you shift to stand.

“What? Wait!” He pouts as you set him on his feet before straightening your legs.

You don’t rush, rather saunter away as casually as possible. Your cock throbs helplessly against your thigh as you push open the screen door and step into the chilly house before closing it behind you.

It felt eerily empty since nobody chose to enter unless they needed to get to the bathroom. You pass through the living room and round the couch, silently thanking Jin for having a bathroom downstairs.

You pull the door closed behind you, locking it before dumping yourself over the sink with a groan. You glance at yourself in the mirror, your lids hung low with the buzz floating through your body. You flick at the sink knob, running the water.

It wouldn’t be an instant fix as it went in the movies, but it’d provide you with enough focus to will away your hard on. Blankly you watch the tap run.

It didn’t take Hoseok long to set it in his thick skull that he was going to get it from you no matter what it took. He entered the house just as you shut the door behind you. He approaches the door, placing his hand over the handle. Locked.

He knew well enough that the lock on this door was weak. In fact, it played a role in a lot of pranks over the years.

He whirls around, jogging toward the kitchen. He knew Jin’s place like the back of his hand, just as they all knew each others. Third drawer to the left, it rolls open with ease. He grabs a butter knife and shuts away the rest.

By memory, he lodges the rounded tip into the strike, pushing back the latch bolt. The door welcomes him in silence as he carefully sets the knife on the vase on the floor. He slips through the crack, before pulling it closed.

You cup your hands under the running water, guiding it up and onto the lower half of your face. The click of the door makes your heart jump, snapping your head toward the door.

“You okay?” He wraps his arms around you from behind, his skin pushes heat through yours. You hadn’t realized how much you’d cooled down already.

“Why are you so hot?” You whined, splashing more water over your cheeks.

“Thank you~” he hummed and giggled as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back.

Although you were well aware he was a cup or can shy of drunk, he seemed to retain his fine motor skills anyway. He slips a hand under the waistband of your leggings, snatching up your softening dick.

You feel a tug in your gut without pause when he seals his grip around your heavy shaft. His fingers slip over the pliant flesh as he rolls your foreskin down with his thumb.

Your resolve is wavering.

He lifts his head, pressing a noisy, wet kiss over the grove connecting the back of your ear to your head. You press your lips together, huffing as a shiver crawls up to your shoulders. You knock the faucet closed with a damp fist, gripping the counter with your other hand.

His knuckles roll under the fabric of your leggings as he drags the head of your cock over the ridges of his palm.

“I’m so fucking wet right now, we can be quick.” He muttered into your ear, biting gently on your lobe before sucking it between his lips.

The tip of his index finger circled your frenulum before he presses down and scrubs his finger back and forth. Your toes curl with a groan that swells into a sweet moan.

“Ugh, I love it when I can hear you,” he releases your ear with a pop before moving to work his way down. He finds a place that seems tasty enough, laving his tongue over his before sealing his lips around it.

He slows his assault on your frenulum, wrapping his index and thumb around your glans, squeezing and jerking it.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip with a growl, he washed away your manner of reason much too easily. Your mind cracks into fragments unseen, blown away by his breath.

You make an ugly choked noise, losing rhythm in your breath when wet squelching fills the air.

“God, yes.” He breathes, lifting his fingers to his mouth to smear some of your precum over his tongue before squeezing his fingers back around the head of your cock.

“You’re so fucking nasty.” Your voice was strained. He dug his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tightening his hold on the head of your cock.

Your vision breaks and sparkles. There should have been dents in the counter from your grip. He drags the tip of his tongue around the rosying flesh surrounding your bite mark.

The tip of his nose traces up the column of your neck, meandering to the back. Your hair stands on end. There was something about that spot that made you lose control, and he loved to abuse it.

He presses an opened mouth kiss to the nape of your neck, suckling gently. You swallow noisily as his canines drag over it.

Thick, heavy expletives roll over your gums when he bites down. Only the noise of your heartbeats and blood rushing to your ears is apparent.

“God, take your fucking shorts off.”

The trembling growl in your timbre sends a bounty of blood rushing to his pussy, it felt like his thighs were sticking together. He places a sympathetic kiss over your dark bite mark, shuffling back to work his garment down.

He manages to get one leg out before you shove him against the light grey wall.

“Bet you’re so wet that it’d just go in.”

He whines, throwing his arms around your shoulders as you lift one of his thighs and prop it on your hip.

You grip your dick and swish the head in between his blood swollen folds.

“Look at how fucking red it got.” Your cock jumps in your hand as you give it a few pumps, pulling back your foreskin. You nudge the tip against his clit, licking your lips when he jerks his hips away with a squeal.

“Too much?” You sneer, returning to pumping the head in between his lips. You didn’t fail to catch each squeak when the head of your cock caught around the edge of his hole.

His fists curl around handfuls of your shirt as you press your way in.

“You gonna get me pregnant tonight? Mnh, I didn’t take my birth control this morning.” He keens, gently dropping his forehead against yours. It hardly took a brush of his lips against yours before you consumed his mouth in a filthy kiss.

You curl your tongue around his, sucking it into your mouth noisily. You grind your hips upward, fully settling your hips against his. His moan is muffled by your lips, tongue slipping over the backs of your gums.

You release him with a smack, licking up the traces of vanilla and coconut from the seam of your lips.

“Play with my tits,” he arches his back against the wall, pushing his chest toward you.

You shove a hand under his top, shoving the fabric out of your way with your wrist. He sings for you as your skin begins to thump against his with each thrust.

The pad of your thumb scrubs over the center of his nipple, squeezing a moan out of him.

“Fuck, you gonna give me a baby?” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, throwing his head back with a cheeky smile when you rut in deeper.

His thighs are tingling, it felt so… otherworldly when you went in raw.

His brows knit together, his lips falling apart with a breathy moan. You clumsily shove his crop top further up his chest, leaning in and taking his nipple into your mouth with a wet suckle.

You occupy your free hand by moving it below. You push apart his outer lips with your fingers, gently sweeping your thumb over the head of his clit.

Hoseok immediately seizes up, squirming against you with a cry.

“Please!” He squealed, his inner thighs spasmed in such a way that his knees nearly buckled.

You roll the tip of his nipple between your teeth, scrubbing the tip of your tongue over it. You release it and kiss around the edges of his areola before treating his other nipple to the same.

“You gonna cum on this dick?” You murmur, digging the heel of your thumb over his little pink nub.

“Oh my god,” he hisses while tilting his hips. “Fuck me harder!”

You move toward his neck, nosing at his shoulder. The clapping of your skin rings in your ears.

Squelching, squirting, wet, disgusting. His breath catches in his throat before coming out as a delighted croon.

His cream spreads over your length and adds a slip that makes your thighs flex.

The beating of yours and his heart takes further residence in your ears. Too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much. Toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuch.

You cum with a rattling groan that sets your limbs aglow, burning and tingling that you can’t get away from. You feel the comforting presence of his nails dragging circles over the canvas of your shoulder blades.

Your erratic breath follows his in canon, slowing to synchronicity as you remember all that surrounds you.

He meets you with a gooey smile, his kiss sets off warm white bursts in your head.

“I love you.”

Jin sent a text to their group chat later, asking why there was a butter knife on the vase by the bathroom.

#sub!bts #sub!idol #sub idol #sub!jhope x domme!reader #sub jhope x domme reader #domme!reader #domme reader #sub kpop #dom reader

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sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

answers

oikawa x reader

desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”

a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk

wc: 3k

— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it's obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.

But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.”

This is just karma.

The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.

The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive.

You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.

But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.

This weekend was no different.

Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…

You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.

Okay, that last part was a little different.

He’d had his head in your lap.

His head… in your… lap.

And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify.

That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin...

You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.

Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.

Like an iron rod poking at hot embers, these prodding memories make your cheeks grow hotter by the millisecond. You bury your face in your pillow, embarrassment tight in your throat.

Somehow you’d forgotten that he’d practically climbed into your lap. You’re not in the clear quite yet, but your brain is functioning well enough that it wishes you’d had a little more to drink – just enough to forget about it entirely. You starfish out on your bed, arms and legs dramatically splayed across the mattress.

Do (hot, charming, charismatic, windswept) flatmates usually get this... cuddly? Is that normal?

Does Iwaizumi wrap his arms around his roomies after a long day and a few bottles? How about Mattsun? Makki…?

Okay, no, none of them really seem like the type to get up close and personal with their roommates without good reason. Well, maybe Makki, but he’d do it to be a pain in the ass – not to charm the living-hell out of someone.

You try to take in a deep breath and wrap your head around what this means for you… but end up inhaling a feather from your pillow instead. As you hack and cough, you try to smother the noise in more cloth material – you really didn’t need him coming into your room, much less leaning over your bed to check on you.

Oikawa is messing with your head.

If you knew any better, you’d have run away screaming the moment he’d asked you to room with him. No one that pretty and charismatic is good news. At least, not when it comes to shared housing.

But, here you are, writhing under the covers and hot like a fever all because he couldn’t keep to himself. Screw him and his charming smile for putting you in this position.

He either knows you’re crushing like he’s the last man on earth or he’s blissfully unaware and way too physically affectionate for his own good.

You don’t dare consider that he likes you back though. Only deer and Olympic athletes made leaps like that. Oikawa had too many admirers… an irritating amount.

The blankets scrunch even tighter between your fists, likely thanking their maker that they don’t have nerve endings.

Every fiber of your being is begging to know if these feelings are reciprocated. You’d hate to live out the rest of this semester knowing the boy down the hall may not like you back. Worse, that he finds out you think he’s hot shit and doesn’t like you back – that would be unrequited love at its finest.

But, with a degree and your mental health on the line, why should you care about such minor, itty bitty, pointless details.

This isn’t that big a deal.

And even if he did like you back? Well, Oikawa isn’t someone you can simply “pin down.” He comes with a distinctive, dramatic personality and a meddling side. Not to mention, he’s already the embodiment of chaos – he’s proven this to be true over the past 4 months he’s lived with you.

There’s a familiar squeak of the shower faucet handle and the hiss of hot water. You jump at the sound.

Maybe he’d forgotten, but your bedroom shares a very thin wall with the bathroom. Though you recall him saying he wanted to take a shower earlier, so you guess that he’s only just remembered.

You pick up your phone, blue light casting a less-than angelic glow on your sleepy face. You pray that TikTok will have some sort of life-changing “I’m in love with my hot, crazy flatmate” advice. Or that it will distract you from your inner turmoil. Either would be appreciated but the latter seems more likely.

Scrolling slowly, you get through about 3 videos before something else catches your attention.

There’s a deep reverberation buzzing through your wall. A gentle hum, much like a shower-concert lullaby.

But the noise is getting louder. And the humming? A lot more lyrical.

You shift into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your hands. With your side sunken into a pillow, you press your ear against the cool drywall. Your ears tune into the sound.

Oikawa, voice confident and free, is… singing.

“...But you were everything to me, I was begging you ‘please don’t go’…”

But he’s not just singing.

“And I said…”

He’s belting Taylor Swift with the enthusiasm of an 11-year-old Swiftie super-fan. Like the world would end if he didn’t put enough passion into this performance. Like the showerhead is his microphone and the surrounding tiles are his adoring audience.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run...”

Most people would be pissed if their friend were singing in the shower at 2 am… but you can’t find it in yourself to be anything but enamored.

God, you hate him for doing this right now. Hate that he’s inadvertently endearing you to him. Hate that, no matter what you do, he’s somehow always there.

Pressed up against you on the couch, meeting you for dinner at his favorite restaurant, fussing at each other over a shitty cup of coffee in your even shittier kitchen, calling you when he needs somebody to keep him company at the library…

“You'll be the prince & I'll be the princess…”

And now he’s accidentally serenading you with Taylor’s “Fearless” album. In the shower.

You facepalm, sinking into your hands, exasperated and just so… done.

You sink back down into the bedsheets, wishing your earbuds were nearby to drown out the regrettably adorable performance.

“It's a love story y/n, just say ‘Yes.’”

And your heart drops, panic setting in like the touch down of a whirling tornado. A fire tornado. A fire tornado with frogs and lizards and sharp objects spinning around inside of it.

What… did he just say?

The lyrics… they were muffled. You definitely heard them incorrectly. You… you just need to get your ears checked. Yes, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. You’ll schedule an appointment first thing tomorrow morning.

Because who the fuck sings like that at 2 am in a shared dorm? And who the fuck puts someone else’s name into a song like that? No one? Yes, no one.

Especially not the Oikawa Tooru.

And especially not with your name.

Because that’s just... weird.

The grip on your phone is mighty – thank God for durable glass because any other material would’ve splintered or shattered in your hold.

But what the hell.

“Y/n, save me, I've been feeling so alone,” he sings as though he were Beyoncé’s son.

This time it’s clear as day. Oikawa is definitely still out of it and he’s undoubtedly singing your name.

No, no, no.

“I keep waiting for you but you never come…”

You bolt out of bed, feet hitting the floor at lightning-strike speed.

“Is this in my head? I don't know what to think,”

In one swift movement, you fling the bedroom door open and rush down the hall. You shouldn’t be listening to this.

“He knelt to the ground & pulled out a ring, and said...”

And before you can stop your hand, it’s knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.

There’s a gasp, what you assume to a bar of soap hitting the shower floor, and an abrupt silence that follows.

You’d only wanted to stop him from singing.

However, you hadn’t thought through what you were going to say to him about this whole... lyrical mess. Your face feels like the surface of the sun, burning and flaring and flushing. What are you supposed to do now?

Oikawa speaks up, voice quiet, “Hello?”

Shit.

Maybe if you’re careful you can get yourself out of this. Just act like you didn’t hear anything and bring it up tomorrow when you’re both thinking straight. A thorough and sober discussion would be needed.

You had questions. Questions that needed answers.

Why did he have his head in your lap? Had you said anything to him that you’d regret later? Does he like you? Where should you two place your boundaries if he doesn’t like you back? And why Taylor Swift?

“Y/n, is that you?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Who else would it be?

The handle squeaks and, with that, the water stops. Only the gentle swirl of the drain and the occasional drips and drops from the showerhead are audible.

It’s too late. You’re already there. You’ve knocked and, in doing so, you’ve sealed your fate.

“...Yes,” is your whisper of a reply.

“What’s up? Was I too loud for you?”

You’ve got the entire building on high-alert singing that loudly.

...is what you would say if you weren’t currently imploding. This is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And nothing you ever want to experience again.

“Um, yeah, sorry.” You look down at your shuffling feet.

The hallway is pitch black, hardly allowing for even a mere shadow. Rushing out of your room, you’d forgotten to turn on even a single light.

You hear him step onto the tile floor and the rustle of a tower from the bathroom closet.

“Wait, can we talk?” He asks as though it weren’t the question of the fucking year. “I mean, preferably after I get out of the bathroom.” There’s a lack of tact to his words.

This isn’t the charming Oikawa you’re used to. This is a blunt… confusingly straightforward Oikawa.

His tone wavers like maybe he’d had a little more to drink than you’d last remembered. Your memory was proving to be disappointingly unreliable tonight.

You swallow thickly, “Sure.”

Because what else can you say?

“Can I stop by your room in a minute?”

You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

And you patter back to your no-longer very safe haven. Oikawa is about to infiltrate your space… with your permission. And the weapons he’ll bring will either harpoon you or leave you emotionally paralyzed – whether that emotional paralysis is a good or bad thing will be decided in the near future.

Your bed, though soft and blanket-covered, looks far less appealing now. It may as well be a bed of nails because you would rather hide beneath it than sit atop it.

But you sit anyway, letting the mattress dip and the springs twang.

The bathroom door cries as it opens, putting you on edge. Your heart is pounding like a drum at a summer festival – hotter and louder with every beat.

The trod of footsteps tells you he’s approaching and, sure enough, the open door reveals Oikawa.

With only a lamp to brighten the space, he’s more contoured than usual. His hair is wet and heavy against his head, taking on an even darker brown than before. You’ve seen him fresh out of the shower before, but this… is different. Oikawa’s shirt sticks to his chest slightly – he must’ve thrown it on without drying off fully to get to you faster.

He takes a few steps into your room, choosing to lean his back against a wall next to your work desk. Oikawa brings his hands behind his back, pressing his weight into them. Brown eyes flicker from you to the wall behind you and back again.

Naturally, tension lays thick as a fog in the air space.

“Hey, I’m…”

You cut him off, “You don’t have to say sorry! It’s… it’s okay.”

Oops, you’d said that a little too loud. Not that it mattered much after Oikawa’s passionate performance.

An eyebrow raises and confusion sparks across his face. Your body freezes.

He brings a hand behind his neck. “Oh, I was just gonna say that I’m still kinda drunk.”

You knew that much. Though you really thought he’d say something other than that. Preferably something about the, uh, devoted love-song?

Why is he acting so casual right now? Is this even Tooru? Had he read too many alien conspiracies and been abducted for learning too much about extraterrestrials?

Maybe he doesn’t realize you’d even heard him say your name in the shower.

“Oh... right.” You say slowly, lips staying parted at the end of your sentence.

“Which… probably isn’t good for either of us,” Different words drawl out and there’s a soft slur to some syllables, but at least he’s easy to understand, “me drinking too much, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you mutter.

“I think we should both just go to bed then.”

Your chest tightens. Of course, you want answers.

They’re likely embarrassing, face-reddening, Taylor Swift-centric answers. But you want them, nonetheless.

Although, it’s probably for the best that you don’t bring this up tonight. It was all probably a joke or a harmless accident – and, anyway, he admitted to being drunk.

“Right.”

“But I think you should know that I like you. A lot.”

“Yeah,” you respond again, automatically.

There’s another heavy silence. The pretty boy just stares at you, cherry colors tinting his cheeks but showing no expression of fear or embarrassment. You stare back, processing his words at turtle-like speeds.

The words tumble out, “Wait, say that again?” You double back, your own face reheating to its earlier temperature.

“I’m gonna be mad at myself in the morning if I don’t leave right now. And I really need to stop listening to that stupid song,” Oikawa says to himself.

“But I wanted to see how you would respond if I changed the lyrics,” the words are pointed back at you again.

He stands up, feet moving slowly toward the doorway. Did he just… completely ignore your question?

Your jaw drops, “Did…” you can hardly speak.

Clearing your throat, you try again, focusing intently on your words, “...did you mean for me to hear you?”

“...Maybe.” He draws out the “e,” looking back at you.

That’s it. He’s lost his fucking mind. You’re going to strangle him.

No TikTok advice could have prepared you for the monstrosity that is Oikawa Tooru. How Iwaizumi put up with that... that child for all these years, you have no idea.

You have to make a note of sending him a “get well” card, because nobody could be mentally okay after dealing with him for that long.

“B- but… why? What?” You stammer out, back stiff as a board.

“You like me don’t you?” He tilts his head, hair flopping cutely with it.

You gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing.

And it’s not that you don’t want to respond.

It’s that you can’t. You have no words. You vocal chords are on a panic-induced lockdown.

Because he knew.

He knew this entire time. Which you thought he might, but that doesn’t make the situation any less infuriating.

“And I like you back.”

You’re dumbfounded. You can’t think. This is ridiculous.

You open your mouth once more but he has no intention of continuing this conversation.

“Sleep well!” Without further comment, Oikawa flashes you a sleepy smile and begins scampering back to his room after having wreaked havoc on your poor heart.

Your voice comes back just in time for you to wake up the entire building once more,

“No, you get your ass back here and explain yourself!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa imagines #seijoh #what did i just write #this is gonna go under: 'things i gave up my sleep for'#ughsjdljlds'ldsdjd #also #i dont like the term crack fic anymore? so i think just calling it humorous is... a good way to go #goodnight yall #queued up!

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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

Text

Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Chapter Six (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader (slight)

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @dariangarcia, @btssmutgalore, and @junghoseokit for supporting my work. To my mamas, Kaitlin, Adora, Lauren, Lanie, Lu, and Sher.

•••> Word Count: 7.81k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: angst, dirty talk, sexual teasing, heartbreak, cursing, pining, depression, breakup, emotional instability, arguing | Warnings are written specifically to chapter.

Taglist: @dariangarcia @apurpledheart @itsgottabeyoo-ngs @hytibm @namjinsbaby @ggukkieland @fan-ati--c

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, say so in a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page, or send me an ask!

NAVIGATION: Chapter Five (M) <- | -> Chapter Seven (M) -> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

•••> Official Playlist

~#~

“I put the dirt into dirtbag. Still got your jacket in my bag.”

THEN.

“Kookie!” You screamed in between breaths, eyes watering at the struggle. “Stop! Please!”

“No way!” His laugh was buried in your hair as he pressed his face against the back of your head. “Apologize!”

“For what?” You wheezed, attempting to get away from the curling fingers that tickled your ribs relentlessly. His long legs were wrapped around your body, restricting your movement and effectively taking away almost any opportunity to escape.

“For calling me a singing demon!” His hands continued their assault, sending you into another laughing fit. You fought helplessly against his tattooed arms.

You wanted to bite back, but the lack of air in your lungs prevented you from doing so. Your heart beat wildly, adrenaline spiking and arms flailing against his grip. Desperation flooding your mind, you wrapped your hand around the one that caged your neck and dug your nails into his flesh in hopes that the pain would get him to weaken his hold.

Jungkook only laughed again and hummed teasingly. “Oh, just like that. Harder, baby.”

Squirming didn’t help much, but when you shifted your hips and felt something poking into your spine, you huffed with defeat on the horizon. His obvious boner signified that he liked your struggle- a clear indicator that there was no way he was letting you go any time soon.

Unless…

With another shift of your hips to grind your ass upwards on him, seating his dick between your clothed ass cheeks, you let the situation take over your body with your brain rewiring into a horny mindset in order to distract him.

“Jungkook,” You whispered through a gasp, hoping the change of pace would throw him off. It was a stunt you always pulled; whether it be during an argument or sex, changing the pace would unfocus your boyfriend’s attention and give you the upper hand.

Sure enough, Jungkook’s embrace around you loosened so that he could give himself more room to slide his manhood against you.

“Oh, baby...” He grunted into your ear with a sliver of surprise tainting his lust.

Slowly, so as to not trigger him, you slid one hand down his stomach and slid two fingers below the waistband of his shorts. With your body on top of him, you couldn’t go further inward, so you settled on harshly scraping your nails across his hip while you dug your other hand harder into his forearm.

“Please.” You said with more air in your lungs. Finally, you could breathe.

“Are you begging for me to fuck you?” His dick twitched against you, desperate to bury itself between your thighs. “Or are you pleading for mercy? Tell me, Y/N,”

Jungkook flipped the two of you over so that your chest pressed into the bed and his entire body pinned you to the mattress with a swift cant of his hips. “Which one is it?”

For a moment, you rolled your eyes and struggled to look at him from your compromised position. It wasn’t until your eyes caught sight of the numbers on the clock sitting on the nightstand that you began struggling with a new burst of concern in your mind.

“Jungkook!” You wheezed. “The time!”

“Answer my question, Y/N. I can stay here all night. The stage can wait.”

“But you’ll be late!” Your voice increased in volume.

“Only if you continue avoiding my question…” Jungkook trailed off for a moment before he leaned down to murmur softly in your ear. “Well, I’ll only be late if you refuse to let go of your pride to ask for mercy and beg for my cock instead. I will rearrange your guts if that is what you’re asking for.”

You huffed in frustration, the desire to fuck your boyfriend dissipating with his words. You knew that Jimin would be through the roof by now, searching high and low for the lead singer of BTS to dress him properly.

“Mercy.” You finally grumbled in defeat, not wanting to delay him any longer.

Almost disappointedly, Jungkook grunted as he removed his weight from on top of you. “Fine.”

“I’ll go turn on the car.” You got up and swiped the keys off of your dresser, thankful that you were still dressed in your internship clothes.

“You go do that.” Jungkook chuckled whilst sliding his shorts off of his body to reveal a very obvious boner tenting his boxers that you pretended to be oblivious of. “You’re a master at turning me on so I trust you with that.”

“Ew.” You grimaced at the poorly-delivered joke. “That was terrible.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was clever.” Jungkook chided.

“Not at all.” You quipped. After you watched him slide a pair of jeans up his muscular legs, you turned to leave. You just needed to make sure he got dressed. “I’ll be in the car.”

~#~

Jimin’s knowledge of art always mystified you. His prowess wasn’t the type of intelligence like knowing how Picasso depicted the loss of innocence in Guernica or how the melting clocks of Dali introduced surrealism to the world of art- no, that was Taehyung’s strong-suit.

Jimin knew how to create his own version of art that left viewers wistful and in absolute awe by making a stage the vessel of his masterpieces.

As you sat on the balcony, overlooking the crowd while they all thrashed and jumped to the beat of Hoseok’s bass drum and the duo of guitars that was Namjoon and Jungkook, you just had to sit back in your chair and stare at the composition that was Jimin’s show.

Flashes of blue and red lights swept across the crowd, printing themselves temporarily into the crowd’s retinas so that when the opposite color came back, a light hue of purple was brought into the experience for a fleeting moment. Short puffs of fire whenever Namjoon strummed a power chord warmed your face, even from the distance in which you sat from the stage, and lasers shot through the crowd every time Yoongi penetrated the sounds of his group with the keys of his keyboard.

Graphics on the jumbotron behind the band, which were also of Jimin’s creation, outlined each member with curls of dark, tentacle-like wisps that matched the purple hue of the crowd with its raven color.

The last song of the setlist, Blue and Grey, was one you were all too familiar with. The lights faded to a soft blue for a moment as Taehyung began the first strong notes with his bass and the crowd in the venue whooped and hollered in excitement- Blue and Grey was BTS’ most popular song. A year and a half into their journey of being a band and they already had a crowd favorite.

As Taehyung continued his bass line with his guitar and tattooed strumming arm put on display by Jimin’s spotlight, Jungkook leaned into the mic and began strumming his own guitar.

“Where is my angel?”

You sighed and leaned forward in your seat, loving the way Jungkook’s voice carried throughout the performance hall.

Taehyung accompanied Jungkook with the intro until Hoseok joined in to transition into the first verse with his high hat and snare drum.

Once the chorus hit, you couldn’t help but stand from your seat as you began to feel the power of BTS’ music rocking the venue.

“I just wanna be happier. To melt the cold me.”

Jungkook’s neck veins bulged from his skin as he belted out the notes, sweat dribbling down his temples from exertion. Even as he huffed for breath in between his lines, the image of him dressed in all black and owning the stage while ripping his fingers through his guitar strings was one you could never get tired of.

The songs were full of angst- the dark, unspoken feelings that not many people talked about- and you loved how you heard them from Jungkook through music. If only he were this honest when it was just the two of you.

“Don’t say it’s okay, ‘cause it’s not okay.” Jungkook closed up his lines with a heartbreaking tone that every fan in the crowd sang along with as Namjoon prepared to sing his part. For a brief moment, your boyfriend met your eyes across the large venue.

“Please don’t leave me alone. It hurts too much.”

~#~

NOW.

You walked into your building, grateful for the warm protection it offered against the freezing winter of New York City.

Noticing the lack of staff around, being that there was only the elevator operator and the receptionist sitting behind the marble counter, you glanced at your watch to check just how long you spent working.

20:17, your watch read. You had been working in front of computer screens and reading contracts for almost 9 hours.

“Greetings, ma’am!” The receptionist stood from his chair. “May I be of any service to you this evening?”

You shook your head to the man and continued on your path to the elevator where the other employee in the lobby waited to take you up. “None needed. I’ll be leaving momentarily.”

“Very well. Please let me know if you need anything.” He sat back down and turned his gaze to the computer in front of him.

The sound of your pumps echoed against the vast but empty room until you stopped in front of the elevator where the woman already had the doors opening in preparation.

“Good evening, ma’am.” She said lowly.

“ ‘Evening.” You responded, stepping inside without another word. The woman kept the conversation at that, which you appreciated, so you smiled at her in gratitude after you placed your key in the penthouse slot. She returned your smile with her own before the doors closed to encase you in silence.

The ride up was quiet, warranting you to pull out your phone so that you could read over your conversation with Taehyung again.

Why am I wearing think socks? I hate thick socks.

Read at 8:01 pm

Trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

Is that so? Why?

Read 8:03 pm

Just wear the damn socks, Y/N.

Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?

Read 8:04 pm

Negative, captain

Why am I a captain now

Read 8:04 pm

Cuz I said so. Now stop talking or you’ll make me give away my position

Alright.

Read 8:05 pm

I said stop talking

…?

Read 8:05 pm

Fucking hell.

You let a small giggle slip past your lips at how normal the text conversation was. It was as if you never stopped talking to him, slipping into the normalcy of having Taehyung back in your life as quickly as it had been to cut him out of it. You zoned out for a moment in thought.

The strange sensation of friendship didn’t take any getting used to as it settled itself back into your bones and filled your heart with warmth like it never left- like the ice covering the beating organ was only temporary. As you stood alone, staring shallowly at the increasing floor numbers, you smiled in content.

The elevator slowed as the cabin came close to reaching the top floor, bringing you back to your senses. Sliding your phone back into the pocket of your slacks, you looked up once the elevator doors opened, only to drop your briefcase to the floor loudly.

Jungkook sat against the wall beside your door with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. At the sound of your clumsiness clattering on the ground, his gaze snapped to you as he scrambled to stand up.

Anger flooded you immediately. You wanted to backhand him and rip his hair out. You wanted to scream and cry and lose your shit. However much you wanted to hurt him, though, you could not afford catching an assault charge on the man who defaced you once before.

There was a break of silence as you stood staring at him, unsure of how to handle the punch in your mood while the memories were forced to surface in your mind.

“Y/N…” Jungkook trailed, breaking the tangible barrier of tension. He took a step forward whilst obviously hesitating. “I-”

Instead of screaming at him, you went for the more sophisticated and controlled route to keep your lividity at bay whilst stopping his sentence in its tracks.

“How did you get up here?” It was a sensible question to ask. You just wanted to prevent him from deepening the conversation.

“I pulled some strings.” He murmured, looking down almost shyly, before piping up with more confidence. “But listen, I-”

“Save it.” You cut him off again, unable to control your facade much longer. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

His anxious expression turned worried- desperate. You didn’t miss the way his eyes became more expressive than you’ve ever seen them. “Please, Y/N.”

“Please what, Jungkook?”

“Please just give me a moment to speak.”

For a beat, you pondered his request. Taehyung’s words weighed heavily on your mind. We needed to talk.

Fuck talking. You have been done talking for ages.

“Wow.” You scoffed coldly, ice barriers slamming back into place over your heart. Taehyung had been able to melt them away, but Jungkook put them right back with fierce determination to completely ruin you. “You just want to take everything from me, huh?”

“Y/N, what-“ He blinked cluelessly, caught off-guard by your sarcasm.

“I gave you years to speak, Jungkook. I gave you everything.” You stepped forward, the boiling rage overtaking your body, and came to a stop in front of him with the fury of a charging bull. You wanted him to feel small and vulnerable.

“What else could I possibly give you? I have nothing left.” He took everything. The veins in your body were emptied and exhausted of every single ounce of energy to fight for someone.

You were unaware of the way Jungkook’s fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his palms.

You failed to notice how much he trembled under your gaze, physically struggling to protect his butterfly from your wrath.

Your vicious swings at the dainty being of hope were nothing compared to what he, himself, had done to it. Jungkook found it ironic that you gave him an aspect that he was just barely strong enough to protect yet took the darker things from inside him and destroyed them as if they were mere placeholders- as if you were his puppeteer.

You were too stressed to realize the toll it took on Jungkook to keep his act together. He needed to keep the door open long enough to be your friend. Anything to prevent losing you. Earlier, his demons swooped in and overtook him, suffocating him to silence once again, but for the first time, they ebbed away at the mere thought of you.

As he walked down the street with his stage persona flowing, the simple thought of your name empowered his butterfly to beat its wings so fiercely that it blew away all of the impending smoke and dark tentacles of smog that threatened to overtake his vision.

Once he thought of you, he thought of everything.

Your anger was justified. He understood that now. Watching you huff breath after breath following your question was somehow relieving- you still cared enough to be pissed off. Jungkook forced himself to look on the bright side of the encounter with you; he made himself see that you were still passionate about the past. You were passionately upset and he couldn’t be happier.

He had seen you with Taehyung. He saw the way you were happy again. Jungkook wanted a part of that because he was too selfish to back off and stay dormant in your life- too determined to make you silence his demons.

Even if it was just as a friend. He could deal with that.

“You’re right.” Jungkook stated.

You paused in your tracks at the concession. Anger no longer blazing- staying right where it was- you quirked an eyebrow at him. Any time the two of you fought, he would never come even close to alluding that you were right.

“You’re right and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

An apology.

Words always seemed minimal to you. Unless to communicate information, you found that words filled with feeling didn’t mean much from someone you didn’t know.

After Jungkook, anyone that told you they loved you was promptly deemed a liar. Kate worked hard to make sure you were aware of the fact that she would actually take a bullet for you because of how much she loved you. She spent moment after moment proving to you that she cared deeply even though she didn’t have to put up with you.

Your parents, despite not talking to you much, expressed their love and gratitude whenever you sent them money. You knew they were hard workers like you and didn’t have time to worry about trivial things like words. Instead of taking the easy way out by simply telling you that they loved you, they showed you.

But Jungkook, who claimed to love you in the way that a lover would- the only person to actually do so- lied.

You could never trust the words in that way again.

Still, you couldn’t help but be taken by surprise.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Y/N, you’ve been right since the beginning. I took and took and just stopped giving back. I understand that you’re angry and I want to fix it so that you don’t hate me anymore. I want to make it right.”

You were silent. You hadn’t expected him to admit his fault so easily. Jungkook changing the pace of your conversation ruined your momentum, sending you stumbling and scrambling for thoughts.

Jungkook sighed for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line as he let his eyes drop to the floor in your silence. He wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to elaborate further, though.

“Look, I know I fucked up. Bad. I know you can’t possibly forgive me right now, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you.”

Your automatic reaction to being emotionally pushed came back, closing you down and disguising you as a cold woman.

“What the fuck do you know? What the fuck do you know about how badly you fucked up? I don’t need your lame-ass apology, Jungkook. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Stop pretending that you do. Sure, we fucked a little and kissed a few times, but that’s all that it was.” You grit out the last few words, lying through your teeth. “Now please move. You’re blocking the door.”

Shockingly, Jungkook obeyed. He stepped aside and clasped his hands behind his back without another word, allowing you to walk to your door and open it.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back.

No matter how many times you repeated the words in your head, commanding yourself to abide by the mantra as if it were law, the emotions in your head managed to break through and force your head to turn back after stepping through the doorway.

Jungkook stood as still as a statue, staring at you with a blank expression that was almost eerie. You glanced down quickly, unable to maintain the eye contact, and noticed that his knuckles were clenched.

It was almost as if he was a completely different person because of the fact that his appearance was drastically different from that of BTS Jungkook. The man that stood in front of you was no rockstar. He was not an idol nor a role model that millions looked up to.

He was a scared boy. The fear that riddled his eyes was extremely difficult to miss and it made him seem almost small whilst standing in the small junction between the elevator and your penthouse.

You shut the door in his face impulsively, hoping that you wouldn’t have to see him again.

Backing away from the door slightly, you waited until you heard the elevator signal that its doors were closing before going to look through the peephole. You finally released your breath and slumped against the door when you saw that he had left.

Without his presence putting you on edge and keeping you on your toes, you could finally reflect on the conversation that just transpired.

He admitted his wrongdoings and apologized for them. He showed you his belly and became vulnerable. He admitted defeat.

Jungkook wasn’t an apologetic person in the slightest; he wasn’t a forgiving one either. In all the years that you had known him, he was headstrong and stubborn- if you looked past the part where he closed himself off and cheated, of course.

This Jungkook, the one you had just spoken to, was not the one you remember. Maybe you were right. Maybe you didn’t know him anymore.

Your phone vibrating in your pocket distracted you from pondering any further over the epiphany, prompting you to pull it out and fumble with it to get away from the confusing subject. You were thankful for the distraction.

Kim Taehyung (BTS)

I’ll be out front in 15 mins

Cursing internally, you left the idea of Jungkook behind you and rushed to change into clothes better suited for the cold weather.

It was a given that a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips when you slid thick tube socks over your ankles. You hadn’t actually worn tube socks in ages because they didn’t exactly go with your usual professional style of suits and heels.

You zipped your coat up about three-fourths of the way before turning to look at yourself in your mirror with a huff.

Suddenly, you were bombarded with a memory as it flashed before your eyes.

“You know you look good, babe.”

You giggled as Jungkook came up behind you to look at you in the reflection, setting his chin on your shoulder while he used his tongue to toy with the hoop pierced into his lip.

“Thanks, Kook. Just want to look my best is all.” You met his eyes in your bedroom mirror, smiling softly.

“Well, you look beautiful.”

You were left staring at the empty space where his face was, unsure of how to react as you stumbled back from the intrusion. Another meaningless scene came barging into your senses before you could process the first.

“Wow…” You trailed off as you looked at the angry red spot on Jungkook’s chest. A brand new tattoo, the size of your hand, raised out of his skin and shined under the luminescent light of the tattoo parlor. With the tattoo artist cleaning up his station behind the two of you, you were left to admire his beauty in his reflection.

Jungkook stood shirtless in front of the full-length mirror as he smiled brightly at the last tattoo to complete his set. Your eyes drank in the way each exhibit of inked art contrasted with his smooth, caramel expanse of skin while you stood behind him.

The new piece, which was almost large enough to touch the Chinese characters stamped onto the side of his neck and the back of his ear, was a depiction of an angel falling from the heavens. The detail in the blackening feathers attached to the angel’s back was mesmerizing, drawing all of the attention from the rest of the tattoos covering Jungkook’s chest.

“Is there any special meaning behind it?” You asked, knowing that your boyfriend had a few meaningless tattoos that were part of his ‘woke-up-and-it-was-there’ collection.

For a moment, Jungkook stayed silent as he studied the work of art in the mirror. It wasn’t until you called his name again that he answered your question while meeting your gaze in the reflection.

“Nah. It just looked really cool to me.”

You pressed your hand to your forehead and looked away from your mirror, wondering why- now, of all times- you just had to remember those small memories.

You didn’t miss him- you know you didn’t. But something within you twisted at the thought of being with him- the memory of how it felt to be his.

The disconnect between the feelings of your heart and the thoughts of your mind, ever so obvious, shifted. His apology was unexpected, to say the least, but it was also surprisingly heartfelt and pulling on your need to forgive.

Saved by the bell, your landline phone began to ring.

You rushed to the bedside table and grabbed the phone from its dock, pulling it to your ear.

“Ms. Y/L/N? It’s the front desk. Mr. Kim Taehyung is here and waiting for you.”

“Got it. Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.” You hung up the phone and grabbed your wallet and keys before shuffling over to your desk to grab your briefcase on instinct.

“Wait,” you spoke aloud, laughing at yourself and withdrawing your reach. “I don’t need that.”

As you opened the door to your penthouse, the sound of something lightly hitting your door had you looking down.

A small, navy blue bag, the size of your palm, swung from the doorknob and hit lightly against the wood from the momentum of you opening your door. Confused, you unhooked the loop from the doorknob and looked inside the bag to find a familiar-looking box inside.

Gingerly, you pulled it out and opened it. In the way of the box’s contents was a folded piece of notebook paper with your name scrawled across the top in Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

You held your breath after reading the note and looked down at the small charm.

Since you gave me yours, I’ll give you mine. -jk

In the fabric of the satin display lay the familiar gold chain that Jungkook gifted you those few years ago, but, instead of the small J that you were so familiar with, lay your own initial.

You knew Jungkook’s way with words well enough to know that the small note connected his intentions to the chain. You were instantly pulled back to the night that he gifted the necklace to you in the first place.

“It’s beautiful. Happy one-year, babe.” You whispered onto his lips with a smile.

After you sat back into your seat, Jungkook walked to your side of the table to put the chain around your neck. “I obviously have the describe how much this necklace means so that you never take it off.”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t even dream of taking it off, Kook.”

“I still need to explain. It was like a message from heaven when I saw them in the jewelry store.” He pouted, returning to his seat. “So the idea with these is that we’re wearing parts of each other. You’re wearing the part of me that belongs to you and I’m wearing the part of you that belongs to me.”

Jungkook continued as he raised his glass. “So even though you think this necklace is yours because it’s your letter, it’s actually mine.”

You cocked your head in confusion, struggling to understand the concept. “What are you talking about?”

“It sounded so much better in my head, I swear.”

You understood the idea now.

Push off the emotions. Don’t think about them.

You were hellbent on ignoring the weakness, knowing full well what path you would go down if you let them get to you.

Instead, you made your way down to the lobby with the bag gripped tightly in your mitten-clad hands, heading to the desk with determination furrowing your brow. Even as Taehyung stood from the small sofa in the lobby upon seeing you, you did not spare him a glance.

Forcefully, you thrusted the bag into the receptionists’ face, internally wincing at your rude gesture.

“Please put this in the lost and found. I have no idea where it came from.”

The receptionist did well at hiding his expression, however, you could still see a sense of somber recognition behind his eyes. You decided not to press him seeing as you want to avoid the topic of Jungkook like the plague.

“Understood, ma’am.” He took the bag from your grasp before you had the chance to rethink addressing his slip of emotion, placing it in a drawer by his knee. He looked back up and gestured to Taehyung after locking the drawer. “Mr. Kim is here for you.”

You sighed in a mild sense of accomplishment, forcing yourself to shut out the regret and sadness for giving away a formerly precious memory, before turning to face Taehyung with a small smile to mask your inner turmoil. Your smile faltered when you noticed that Taehyung mirrored the same expression on his face that the receptionist wore.

“What?” You asked, walking to him.

“I just-” He looked down for a moment, scowling, and you noticed he had placed his small barbell back into his eyebrow. “-nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Why won’t you tell me anything?” The two of you had walked to the door, stopping before going out into the cold so that you could finish your conversation.

“Like I said before, it’s not my place to say or judge.”

Taehyung opened the door to an icy gust of wind before you could protest, chilling you into a mind-numbing stupor as you whispered, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Good god, it is freezing.” Taehyung mumbled, linking an arm around your body and ushering you towards his SUV across the sidewalk.

Once sat inside the warmth of the cabin, you shivered in satisfaction at the heat gracing your body.

“Please tell me we’re not going to be outside for whatever we’re doing.” You pleaded to him. The light from the city was filtered by the darkened car windows, however, you could still see Taehyung’s shoulders moving up and down when he chuckled.

“Unfortunately, we are, but fortunately, I brought some heat packs for us.”

You whined in protest, looking up to the GPS screen in front of the driver to see if you could identify where the two of you were going. Without a route plotted, you were left even more curious.

About twenty minutes of small talk and a brief roast session targeting Hoseok later, you sat in front of the ice skating rink at the Rockefeller Center.

“We’re ice skating?” You asked, suddenly in shock. You hadn’t been ice skating since-

No. Stop it. Your mind warred with itself as it suppressed the memory threatening to spill over into your eyes.

“You’re quite the detective.” Taehyung’s sentence was drenched in sarcasm, functioning as the perfect distraction, and prompted you to lightly shove him with a giggle as you exited the vehicle.

“I thought I was a captain.” You pouted against the cold, pulling your hat down on your head even further in hopes of retaining your body heat and warmth from the van.

“You are.” Taehyung laughed again. “Captain Detective.”

You only rolled your eyes at his playfulness before you turned to face the rink from the sidewalk. A person passing behind you and bumping into your back lightly had you cursing New York City’s busy and bustling population.

Seeing all of the people on the rink, you instantly remembered that you did not inform Jay of your whereabouts.

“Do we have security?” Worry riddled your brain as you turned to look at him with your eyes widening in a panic. You became hyperaware of all of the possible outcomes to Taehyung being identified in such a crowded place.

Taehyung sighed as he walked you up to the ticket booth. “We don’t. I just want to have a normal and plain but fun time with my friend- without someone glaring at me like they don’t want to be here while they breathe down my neck.”

Despite understanding his statement, you couldn’t help the automatic stress to being in public without any form of protection.

“Taehyung,” You warned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N,” He mocked your tone childishly before leveling it to his regular voice. “Relax, weirdo. We’re here to have fun and people are too busy having their own fun to notice us.”

“I doubt that.”

It wasn’t until you got your rental skates tightly secured onto your feet and began walking toward the ice that Taehyung mentioned a vital detail that he definitely should have mentioned prior to arriving at the center.

“You what?” You were baffled to say the least.

“I can’t skate.” He sheepishly brought his hand to the back of his head and adjusted his trapper hat under your scrutiny.

“Then why did we come?” You were almost yelling at that point.

“Because Brian told me that you liked ice skating!” Taehyung gripped at your fingers tightly, anxiety getting the best of him.

Fucking hell, Brian.

“Did he?” Your laugh was almost hysterical because of how wrong he was. You were becoming increasingly hesitant about giving your personal assistant a raise now.

Still, it was worth the effort. Brian was just trying to help the world’s most popular bassist when he came to him in need of information. It was a decent attempt.

“Yeah,” Taehyung huffed. “He did.”

“Well, Tae, I’ll have you know,” You moved towards the ice rink with determination. “I haven’t been ice skating in ages and I hardly like it. Hopefully, I still have muscle memory.”

“Oh god.” Taehyung groaned, tipping his head back as the feeling of imminent and utter chaos ensued. “Fucking hell, Brian.”

As soon as you stepped on the ice, you realized that you were still perfectly coordinated enough to complete the task.

Taehyung, on the other hand, clung to the walls like the world was attempting to swallow him into the ground. Dutifully, you stood next to him with a cautious hand on his back in the case that he went tumbling.

The sight was one to behold.

Kim Taehyung, hard core rockstar- the physical definition of a stereotypical ‘bad boy’- with tattoos littering his skin and a glistening eyebrow piercing that was winking at you from under his gray trapper, stood hunched over and afraid as he moved baby step-by-baby step to proceed further around the rink. You couldn’t help but giggle as the man who possessed the prowess of an elegant panther on stage adopted the likes of a stumbling newborn giraffe within the span of five minutes.

You were still concerned for him despite how funny it was. Tentatively, you reached your hand to grip his shoulder and urged him to look at you.

“Tae, are you okay? We can do something else if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.” He wheezed in effort. “I got this.”

Making a show out of how brave he was, Taehyung stood up straight on shaky legs and began progressing forward by attempting to walk on the ice.

“I can show you how t-” Taehyung cut off your offer before you could finish it.

“I’ve been shown countless times how to skate and the best I can do is walk and maybe slide forward a little. I’m a lost cause, Y/N.” Even though he seemed upset, Taehyung couldn’t help but crack a smile at how clumsy he was.

You smiled pitifully at your clumsy friend before you stepped in front of him. “Here, hold onto my shoulders and we’ll slide forward together.”

All Taehyung could do was begrudgingly agree, hating the idea of having to lean on you for support but wanting to remain close to you for the majority of the night. Once he placed his hands tightly on your shoulders, you moved.

At first, you skated slowly so that Taehyung could adjust to the feeling of being pulled forward. Once he got the hang of keeping his legs locked so that you could move around easier, you skated at a normal speed.

After about ten minutes of joking around and catching Taehyung’s slipping form a handful of times, your mind was left free and without defense.

You hadn’t realized how vulnerable you were because of it.

“Y/N, slow down! I can’t go that fast!”

Your breathing came to a halt at the voice that echoed in your ears.

“Here, hold my hand and we’ll skate together.”

Panicking, you rushed your mind to shut it out. No. Stop.

Unknowingly, the chaos in your mind and the desperate need to get away from the memories had you gradually increasing your own speed to subconsciously escape your thoughts.

Taehyung’s nervous laugh and call of your name in warning fell on deaf ears while you furrowed your eyebrows in concentration.

“See? It’s easy. Just step and lean. Step- and lean.” His hand clutched yours as if he was trying to squeeze all of the blood from your fingers but you only squeezed back in reassurance.

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Taehyung’s skate crashing into the back of yours served as the perfect distraction, yet it only lasted for a split second as the two fo you went tumbling to the ice in a hauntingly familiar manner.

In the process of falling, Taehyung had managed to wrap his arms around your waist and twist his body so that he could take most of the impact from the ice. Landing on top of him with an ‘oof’ reminded you of the last time you went ice skating.

Even with your face mere centimeters from your friend’s, all you saw was him.

Taehyung’s small puffs of air against your lips were an indicator of how close you were to kissing him. Truly, you could kiss him if you wanted to, needing only to relax your neck and let your head fall to close the rest of the minimal gap between you. He looked up at you with wide eyes, holding onto your gaze with an unreadable expression on his face.

All you saw, however, was a small mole dotting the underside of his lips. Fuck, you wanted to kiss Taehyung and rid yourself of the nightmare, but you couldn’t shake the sensation of how wrong it felt to kiss anyone but Jungkook.

“Y/N,” Taehyung called your name cautiously and pulled you from your thoughts. Instantly, your eyes welled with tears at the realization of how fucked you were.

You yanked yourself from him with abandon, needing to get far away from the reminder that you couldn’t move on.

Kim Taehyung was mature. He was kind and respectful- everything you could ask for in a man- yet the thoughts of Jungkook and the good memories you had with him outweighed the bad, preventing you from truly letting go.

Before Taehyung could protest, you stood and left him on the ice, making for a quick exit. You wanted to go back and help him up so that he wasn’t in danger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face in this setting.

Instead, you skated off the rink and walked to the skate rental area, plopping down on the bench weakly to untie the laces. Once you did so, you set them on the counter and waited for your boots with your eyes on the ground. You didn’t want anyone to see you on the brink of crying.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s voice was loud and attention-grabbing. You had half the mind to be concerned that he would cause people to notice him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you finally got your boots and rushed to put them on. Taehyung was finally off the ice when you slid the first boot on.

“Y/N,” He called your name again, awkwardly approaching you with the blades still on his feet. “Please, talk to me.”

You could only sniffle in response and continue to put your boots back on, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You’d kept them at bay thus far but Taehyung was making it extremely difficult as his comfort approached you. The welcome yet heartbreaking aura he exhumed paired with your teetering emotional stability wouldn’t fare well in such a public setting.

Without hesitation, you stood and walked away once you were done securing your shoes back on your feet. Again, you felt the urgent need to be alone.

And again, Taehyung was right behind you as he ran without putting his shoes back on.

“Y/N!” He grabbed you as he called your name more sternly, forcing you to face him. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked back down to the pavement and cursed yourself once a tear slipped out. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Because I-” Your breath caught in your throat as it constricted due to the beginning of a sob building in your chest. You cleared your throat and struggled to breathe your way through your response- one you had trouble communicating. “-I just can’t.”

Taehyung grimaced, looking around with concern, before he ushered your body to begin walking away from the busy area.

Once you were a good distance down the street, he grabbed both of your shoulders and forced you to face him once again. Away from the well-lit area of the ice rink, the only light that shone in the middle of the dark night was that of the street lights. With bated breath, you looked up at your friend with your mouth closed tightly so that the sob in your chest wouldn’t come barging past your lips.

The pain was nearly unbearable. It anguished you, knowing that you were stupid enough to think that you could eventually move on from Jungkook. It pained you, being aware of the fact that Taehyung had offered himself to you and you did nothing but continue to look at Jungkook.

But most of all, it hurt that you still wanted Jungkook.

If only you could reach into your chest and tear your heart out so that you couldn’t feel anymore. If only you could shut off your feelings so that it didn’t agonize you like this. If only it were that easy.

Under the light of the street lamps with Taehyung’s look of pity- the one he held as he looked at you across the club on that dreadful night those few years ago- on you, you broke.

As you began sobbing, Taehyung pulled you against his body and backed up into the darkness to give you the privacy to cry without being seen.

The pain stabbed your heart repeatedly; quick blows, shallow at first, became increasingly deep as you drowned in the memories of what once was.

Falling so passionately in love became your biggest regret. For so long, you hated the idea. You hated the fact that you still loved Jungkook notwithstanding the things he had done. You denied the fact until you started seeing the good memories again- until it was an unavoidable and objective truth.

The truth that you still loved him.

As Taehyung held you tightly in his embrace while you held your hands to your face and dug your nails into your skin, you sobbed uncontrollably at how completely and royally fucked you were.

“W-why-” You blubbered into your palms. “-why do I-I still lo-ove him?”

“Because your heart wants what it wants, Y/N. You have no control over that.”

At this point, you had to tell him how you felt- how you truly felt.

“I w-wish that it wa-anted you. I’m so sorry, T-Tae.”

“Hey, now. Don’t say that. It’s a waste of time to wish for things that you have no control over. Don’t waste a wish on something stupid like that.” Taehyung pressed his face to the top of your head, pressing his lips there to leave a small kiss. “Besides, I have someone waiting for me back home so you don’t need to worry anymore.”

Instantly, you looked up at him in shock while still hiccuping. “You do?”

“Of course.” Taehyung laughed warmly, smiling down at you. “I wasn’t gonna be stuck on you forever. One way or another, you move on.”

“It’s been years since I’ve even seen him, Tae. The fact that I still haven’t moved on despite that has to tell you something.”

“Which is why I told you that you still need to talk to him. You can’t move on or do anything about the way you feel unless you communicate it.” He pulled back to bend his body to become eye-level with you so that he could look you in the eyes as he spoke. “There’s things you don’t know.”

For a moment, you weighed his words in your mind. If they’re things that Taehyung can’t tell you because they’re ‘not his place’ to say, then you figure that the matter must be a serious one. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. It wasn’t long before you gave in.

“Yeah…” You trailed off in hesitation, suddenly regretting shutting out Jungkook. “I guess I do need to talk to him.”

“Please just… take your time and be patient with him.” Taehyung winced slightly. “He’s hot-headed but he’s a lot better than he was before. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Taehyung.” You scowled as you backed out of his embrace.

“You know I don’t. I would never suggest that you talk to him if he was the same as he was before.”

A few beats of silence passed before you asked the question that had been nagging at your mind since your revelation of remaining love for the lead singer of BTS.

“Do you think we still have a chance?”

Taehyung answered immediately. “That’s not my place to judge. All I know is that you guys did something sad like being broke up even though you had life.”

“Good god, Tae,” You huffed out a laugh. “Are you quoting Lil Dicky right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Taehyung crossed his arms and let out a small ‘hmph’ as he lightly stomped his foot onto the sidewalk. “And you can’t stop me.”

For a while, Taehyung let you catch your breath and calm down while looking up and down the street. It seemed as if he was planning something.

Before you could process what he was doing, Taehyung took you by your arm, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and began walking across the street. You looked up in the direction of your path and noticed that you were heading towards the quaint coffee shop that seemed to be the only open place at the current hour.

Your eyes hurt from crying. Your chest ached from sobbing and hiccuping. Your heart and head hurt as they came to blows with each other. You were slowly beginning to freeze as the calming of your emotions slowed your heart and cooled your body. It was so fucking cold.

You could use a coffee right about now.

~#~

Thank you for reading, reader! If you’d like to check out the rest of my work, feel free to visit my Masterlist!

277 notes · View notes

anusha-swritings · 4 years

Note

hii! could i do a mgk request? so basically kells and the reader have been friends for a while and they both like each other and kells writes bloody valentine about the reader or something like that? just a lot of fluff! thank you!

Bloody Valentine

Summary: British!reader and best friend Colson admit their feelings for each other.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of drug use, language (not offensive)

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“Bloody hell!” I exclaimed seeing all the dishes Colson had left in the sink. I rolled my eyes, at the carelessness of my roommate/best friend. I knew he was probably in the studio working on something, but his carelessness was really pissing me off. If it was anyone else who had to take care of him like I did they’d probably have moved out the first day, but my friends were probably right my major crush on my best friend probably made me biased. Just a little bit.

I walked into the studio and sat on the spare couch while Colson was recording part of a new song with some of the guys. I laid on the couch jamming out to Travis’ drumming. He joined me on the couch a few minutes later and slim not too long after him. I laid my legs on slim’s lap.

Soon Colson finished recording part of the song and all that was left was his background, and overlaps. He lit a blunt and walked to the couch. I moved my legs to let him sit between me and slim. He pulled me in by my waist and I laid my head on his shoulder. The song Colson was recording started playing again in the background as I closed my eyes listening to the lyrics.

The simulation just went bad

But you're the best I ever had

Like hand prints in wet cement

She touched me it's permanent

Colson shifted slightly under me as the song continued.

In my head, in my head

I couldn't hear anything you said but

In my head, in my head

I'm calling you girlfriend, what the fuck

I started analyzing the lyrics. They seemed vaguely familiar.

I don't do fake love, but I'll take some from you tonight

I know I've got to go but I might just miss the flight

I can't stay forever, let's play pretend

And treat this night like it'll happen again

You'll be my bloody valentine tonight

I remembered saying something like that a few weeks ago on valentines day. I was angry and being petty about being alone, so if anyone asked me what was wrong I yelled “It’s bloody valentines day!”

I'm overstimulated and I'm sad

I don't expect you to understand

It's nothing less than true romance

Or am I just making a mess

If this song was about me, what does he feel I don’t understand? I have so many questions: how do I ask him if he wrote a song about me?

In my head in my head

I'm laying naked with you, yeah

In my head, in my head

I'm ready to die holding your hand

I gasped slightly causing Slim to turn to me and give me a questioning look. I just shrugged, gesturing that we’d talk later. Slim was one of the few people I trusted to tell everything. He’s also the only one who knows about my crush on my best friend although he claims everyone can tell.

I don't do fake love, but I'll take some from you tonight (take some from you tonight)

I know I've got to go but I might just miss the flight

I can't stay forever, let's play pretend

And treat this night like it'll happen again

You'll be my bloody valentine tonight

As I continued to listen to the lyrics things started clicking in my brain. I remembered the time Colson missed a flight to stay and console me after my ex broke up with me.

I can't hide

How I feel about you

Inside

I'd give everything up

Tonight

If I could just have you be mine

Be mine, baby

I can't hide

How I feel about you

Inside

I'd give everything up

Tonight

If I could just have you be mine

Be mine

I had to pinch myself to tell if this was real, maybe it was all a big coincidence and Colson was just writing about someone else.

Ay, I don't do fake love, but I'll take some from you tonight (take some from you tonight)

I know I've got to go, but I might just miss the flight

I can't stay forever, let's play pretend

And treat this night like it'll happen again

You'll be my bloody valentine tonight

Everyone cheered and I joined in clapping to avoid suspicion. Colson went around the room ½ high asking everyone what their favorite part was. When Colson got to me I stuttered for a moment. “Um….well I really liked Travis’ drum solo.” Everyone else was interested in a story Travis was telling at this point. Colson and I were sitting in a separate corner of the studio, we’d moved around as everyone was congratulating and hugging each other. I could see Slim watching us from the corner of his eye noting the awkwardness.

“Ok,” Colson rolled his eyes. “What’s your favorite part about me?” He smirked knowing his phrasing was gonna make me blush. His smirk only grew when my whole face turned red and I looked down. Before I could recover to say something witty back to him Baze interrupted us.

“Colson, come sit with us bro we got questions about these fucking lyrics.” Colson got up from his seat pressing a kiss to my forehead, which isn't unusual for us, before sitting with the guys. “So Colson, who’s this song about?” Slim asked, taking a swig of his beer. Colson gave him a look before stating “A girl” in a monotone.

All the boys rolled their eyes and booed trying to get a better answer out of him. Colson just sighed trying to change the conversation but it kept going back to his song. Eventually Colson got so irritated he stood up and walked out of the studio slamming the door behind him.

Eventually everyone in the studio turned to me staring expectantly. “What?” I was confused as to why they're staring at me. “You’re his best friend,” Baze pointed out. “Can you go calm him down please?” They all chimed in trying to convince me. “Fine. you’re lucky I don't wanna deal with an angry Colson.” I turned around glaring at the boys and wagging my finger, and I wonder why they call me the mom of the group.

As I climbed the stairs I silently thanked the heavens for giving me a chance to talk to Colson alone. I approached Colson’s bedroom door and was about to knock when I heard him talking to himself. “Ugh, I wish you’d just understand.” I didn't want to eavesdrop. I was just trying to see if he was okay before I started talking to him but I was now curious as to who he was talking to.

I carefully knocked on the door. “Go away Baze.” Colson groaned from the other side of the door. “It’s y/n.” I heard him walk over to the door and unlock it, silently allowing me in. I walked in seeing him take off his jacket and hang it on a chair before falling face down on his bed. I laid next to him rubbing his back comfortingly. “Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?” I asked. He groaned into his pillow. I giggled. “Ok then can we watch frozen?” I asked.

“Yeah, go on my phone and just use the app to turn on the TV.” He mumbled into his pillow. I picked up his phone and opened it so see him scrolling through my Instagram. I noticed in the bottom corner his profile pic was of me. Why is his profile picture of me? Then it hit me he had a fan account for me. My face turned beet red and Colson noticed. “What wrong?” He asked. “Um...nothing.” I replied quickly, turning his phone off and reaching for the remote, deciding to just turn on the TV the normal way.

Colson sat up and turned to face me. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to tickle it out of you.” I turned away from him, continuing to turn on the TV. “Colson-” I started but was cut off by the feeling of his long fingers grazing and poking my rib cage, emitting loud cackles from me as the remote fell out of my hand and landed on the bed. Colson continued to tickle me, making fun of my loud and obnoxious laugh as he leaned over me untill eventually he was hovering right over my body.

His torture slowly came to a halt as we both realized how close our faces were. Colson slowly leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I stayed frozen in shock even as he pulled away. “Wow you suck at kissing.” He laughed moving back to his side of the bed. “Well you’re the one simping over me, creating a fan account to stalk me, writing a song about me, then out of nowhere kissing me, plus you’re best friend so excuse me if I was a bit shocked.” I said teasingly, sitting back and folding my hands. Colson blushed and sunk back into the pillows. “Aww is Machine Gun Kelly blushing?” I teased.

“Would you like to redeem yourself?” He mumbled. “What? Redeem myself at what?” Colson sat up and leaned his face close to mine. “This.” He whispered and pressed his lips to mine. This time I was more prepared and kissed back as he grabbed my hips and pulled me into his lap.

When we finally pulled away Colson pressed our foreheads together. “So you like me too right?” He asked grinning like a fool. “You’re an idiot.” I laughed pressing our lips together again.

Taglist: @guiltydols @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

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sweethq · 4 years

Text

♡ Maniac // song scenario

𑁍 Characters: Oikawa Tōru, mentions of Iwaizumi Hajime

»»—Trigger warning(s): mild swearing, bullying, mentions of a car accident and death (kinda?)—-««

➶ Genre: angstttttt, timeskip!AU

✎ Word count: 5.5k

-ˏˋ A/N: Hello!! I’m so excited to share this piece of work with you all. This is my first attempt at writing a song scenario so please bear with me! This is also the first long-ish scenario that I am posting on this account which is super exciting!! I hope you all enjoy and I hope to keep posting content that you guys will like ^^ Also, I feel bad for making Oikawa look like a complete and utter jerk lol buuuuut you gotta do what you gotta do. Remember, this is all fiction and is all in good fun!ˊˎ-

Tōru has been acting weird the past few weeks, weirder than one should to their s/o after dating for nine months. The once loving, carefree boy that made your heart race seemed to disappear within a matter of seconds. You remembered the times walking in the city together. He would intertwine his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand while giving you a soft smile. Day trips out into the city are now rare, and when they do occur, the only physical contact is your arms grazing against each other which fades much too quickly.

You would visit his favorite bakery once every two weeks, ordering the same pastry every time: a strawberry iced doughnut. The first time you went there together, on your third date, your first bite ended with you smearing the icing on the corners of your mouth. Tōru chuckled, muttering a quiet “Clumsy,” before leaning over the table to wipe it off for you. You felt your heart clench in your chest, heat making its way up your neck and to your ears. Since then, you made it a point to order the same doughnut each time in hopes that Tōru would once again slide his finger over the corner of your mouth; and he did. Last week was the first time in nearly nine months that he didn’t, leaving an unsettling feeling in your stomach. These types of things were very routine in your relationship, so when they came to a sudden halt, you couldn’t help but feel curious and anxious at the same time. When the two of you are out together, it feels like he’s not even there. He doesn’t give the same warm smile, tell stupid jokes, or even give you a second glance. It just feels… distant.

You tried to approach him about it, knowing that there were too many things that were suddenly changing. “Do you not love me anymore?” “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” “Is there someone else?” Tōru felt guilty. Guilty that he would give you any reason to believe that he was being unfaithful.

“I’m sorry I’ve been making you feel this way, I never meant to hurt you. I’ll do better, I promise,” he stated before walking closer to you. He raised his hand to softly caress your cheek, deeply staring into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He placed a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away and placing another on your forehead.

“I have to go, I promised Iwa-chan that I would go to his place to hang with him and the other guys. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” You gave a small smile and a nod, him returning the favor with another kiss on the forehead before walking out the door. You couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t give an answer to any of the questions you asked.

----------

A few hours have passed since Tōru left, and you can’t stop thinking about the unanswered questions from earlier. You went back and forth between pacing the room, sitting with your knees pulled against your chest, and laying on the floor; hoping that one of these things would help your brain think of a possible explanation. After hours of thinking, you notice his jacket resting on the back of one of your dining room chairs. Your eyes light up, knowing this would be a reasonable excuse to visit your boyfriend at Iwaizumi’s place.

The walk was short, but gave you enough time to think about what you would say when you saw Tōru, not quite sure why you feel the need to think of a script to talk to him. You stand outside Iwaizumi’s door, breathing a sigh of relief as you hear your boyfriend’s loud voice through the wall that separates you two. As you bring your hand up to knock, you suddenly hear your name be said by a female voice, making you freeze in your place. You can’t help but let your curiosity get the better of you. You slowly inch closer to the door and press your ear against it, hoping to not make any unwanted noises.

“Didn’t you say you only asked them out because you pitied them?”

“Yeah, I just felt bad for them. They would always follow me around and tell me how much they love me. I thought it would be fun to play a little game.” You can tell that Tōru’s words were laced with alcohol. The girls inside the room let out little giggles, one commenting, “What a freak.”

The longer you stand with your ear against the door, the more pain you feel in your heart.

“When are you finally going to ditch them? Aren’t you tired of sticking around someone you don’t even like?” There is a long pause after these questions are asked. I’ll never leave them. I love them too much. You hoped he would say something of that sort, but once again was met with disappointment.

“Well I thought that the longer I stay with them, the more fun it will be to end things. You know, it’ll hurt more, I guess…” His words are a little hesitant, voice getting smaller the further into the sentence he got.

“Who knows, maybe they’ll die from a broken heart.” The voice doesn’t belong to Tōru, but the laugh that follows after does. So many emotions are flooding through your brain and your heart, and you’re not sure how to comprehend them all.

You clutch his jacket in your fist, knuckles quick to turn white. Unwelcome tears pool in your eyes as your hands begin to shake. You silently pray that this was all a horrible dream and you didn’t actually hear those words escape his mouth, but know deep down that this is all too real. Quiet sobs left your mouth as you bend down into a squat, legs almost giving out under you. You can’t help but think back to your time with Tōru, all the memories you made together. Was it all a lie? All of the late night walks, the picnics by the river, the little inside jokes, the love… was it all a part of a game?

The sound of a door opening interrupts your thoughts.

You slowly lift your head up to meet the eyes of your boyfriend. You can sense the panic in his face, not sure how long you have been there or how much you heard. The tears streaming down your face tell him that you heard everything. He takes a slight step towards you, reaching out for your hand.

“Y/N, wait-”

You throw his jacket at him before running off the porch and down the street, wanting to be anywhere but in front of the boy who just tore your heart into pieces. You hear him shouting behind you. This is just a misunderstanding. Let me explain. What is there to misunderstand? You gave your heart to someone who promised to take care of it as if it were his own, and you’re now facing the consequences because of it.

You run all the way back to your home, ignoring the burning sensation in your calves. You slam the door behind you and lock it, not wanting any uninvited guests (Tōru). You stand in your empty house, eyes now dry from the cold wind that blew in your face on the run home. Everywhere you look you see him. All of the space between these walls has touched him and will hold him in its memory.

You walk to the kitchen, letting your fingertips graze the shiny countertop, smiling when thinking about the mess you two would always make while baking.

Snickerdoodles were always a must when the holidays came around. You were determined to bake the best snickerdoodles known to man when Tōru told you he had never tasted the heavenly treat. You prepared the ingredients on the counter, humming a soft tune to fill the silence in the room. Tōru stood beside you, admiring the calm look on your face and how delicate you looked. He approached you from behind, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He always found it fascinating to watch you bake since everything he would put in an oven would somehow instantly catch on fire. He started to slowly bring his hands back to place them on your hips then run them up your sides. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but let him continue anyways. After drawing little circles over your ribs, he started to tickle you, knowing that you would give him a reaction. You yelped, arms flailing without your consent, knocking over the open bottle of cream into the bowl where the dough was, ruining the cookies that were nearly ready to go into the oven. You gasped before quickly picking up the overturned carton, staring at the masterpiece that quickly turned into a disaster. You huffed and turned to look at your boyfriend who had an apologetic smirk on his face. How can someone express those two emotions at the same time? You stared at him for a second, trying to find the words to voice your frustration. You decided that instead of telling him how you felt, you would show him. You reached behind you and grabbed an egg off the counter, rubbing your thumb against its smooth shell before smashing it in Tōru’s perfectly styled hair, wiping the smirk right off of his face. You couldn’t hold in your laughs as the yolk dripped down his forehead and in between his chocolate eyes. The shock on his face didn’t last for long. He was quick to grab another egg and return the favor, this time topping it off with a handful of flour. Now the kitchen was covered with various ingredients flung in different directions and a couple of idiots that were even messier than the kitchen itself. As the sun was beginning to set, you ran out of items to throw at each other. You stared at him, chuckling at the mess you had made of each other. Even looking at him with egg in his hair and flour covering his complexion, he was still the most beautiful person to you. The sun’s rays beamed through the window making Tōru’s eyes look like pools of honey, sucking you into them deeper and deeper. You brought your hand up to his face and softly caressed his cheek, admiring every inch of his beauty.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” A coy grin on his face after he noticed you staring at him, a hint of pink on the tip of his ears. To his surprise, you pulled out your phone and took a picture of him just like he told you to, reminding yourself to make it his new contact picture later. He chuckled slightly, muttering a soft, “Idiot,” before putting his hand on the back of your neck and closing the space between the two of you. His lips tasted like cinnamon and sugar with a hint of vanilla. After the sweet kiss, you pulled away, making sure to keep your foreheads connected so you could just appreciate being with him in his arms.

You smile at the memory that is all too vivid in your mind. You walk into the living room and glance at the pictures that scatter the walls. You approach Tōru’s favorite picture of the two of you, one that you initially hated but grew to love over time.

It was the 18th of December when Tōru dragged you out of the house for your ‘special Christmas surprise’. You questioned him on why it couldn’t wait until Christmas day but he insisted that it had to be today. When you sat in the passenger seat of his car, he turned to you and held out a blindfold for you to take.

“There’s no way in hell that I’m putting that thing on,” you said, staring him dead in the eyes.

“Come on Y/N-channnn! Just this once, I promise. If you do it, I’ll buy you boba on the way home.” His words were so convincing. You were quick to grab the blindfold out of his hand, grumbling a quiet, “Fine,” as you tied it so it was blocking your vision.

The car ride felt like it took a lifetime and then some, but in reality took no longer than ten minutes. Tōru instructed you to keep the blindfold on and wait for him to come on your side of the car to help you out. You let out a loud sigh, not exactly sure why you still couldn’t take the piece of fabric off. He wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to your final location, making sure to point out any steps or dips in the ground that were approaching. After a short minute walk, you were met with adults chattering and a mixture of children screaming in excitement and crying in fear. You concluded that you were definitely in a very public place, but had absolutely no idea where your lunatic of a boyfriend brought you. After standing around for a couple of minutes and you groaning about how bored you were, you heard an unknown voice shout, “Next!” which made Tōru take a few steps forward, you still in his hold, sightless.

“Okay baby. You can take your blindfold off now!” His voice was covered in excitement, which made you even more anxious to take the piece of cloth off. A smile crept onto your face but when the blindfold came off, so did your smile. You stared straight ahead at the surprise that Tōru had in store for you before turning to face him, a shit-eating grin on his face. You could see tears in his eyes from trying to hold in his laughter.

“Tōru…… What is this.”

“It’s….. It’s Santa Clause.”

“Yeah, but W H Y ?”

He didn’t give you a reply, but instead grabbed your wrist and dragged you to stand in front of the man of the hour. You forced a smile on your face, not wanting to seem rude.

“Hi Santa! My s/o over here really loves and admires you and would appreciate taking a picture sitting on your lap. Is that okay?” His words came out sweet, but they were covered in venom. This was probably payback for the time you ‘accidentally’ spilled your drink on his crotch when you went hiking and proceeded to tell people passing by that he just sweats a lot.

“Of course! Anything for this cutie,” Santa said in a voice used to speak to babies, pinching your cheek in the process. You kinda stood there, not quite sure what to do. You definitely did NOT want to sit on his lap, but at the same time, you were too nice to just walk out of there. Tōru could see your hesitance and decided to give you a little *shove* in the right direction (A/N: please know that y/n is not uncomfortable in this situation, but rather just finds the act embarrassing. Tōru would not make them do this if he knew that they would be uncomfortable). Once you found a spot on Santa’s right knee, you told the person behind the camera to quickly take the photo. You noticed Tōru standing on the other side of Santa’s chair holding a peace sign and smiling from ear to ear. You stare at him with pure anger, wanting to wipe that stupid smile off his face. You didn’t even realize that the photo had already been taken. Tōru ended up printing dozens of copies of this photo, making sure to give it to each of your friends and family on Christmas day.

You look at the photo of the two of you, well, actually the three of you. You seem so angry in the picture, but you know that behind all of that anger, you still were stupidly in love with him. You laugh at how it’s ironic to the situation you’re in. You’re mad. More than mad, furious. Furious that you have all of these memories together and all you can think about is how they are full of lies. Furious that even though he hurt you and will continue to hurt you, you still love that tall idiot.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Y/N… Please open the door. I need to see your face.” You don’t move a muscle, your eyes still locked on that photo.

Another knock. Two. Three.

“Please… You need to hear me out.”

More knocking.

You glance at the door, knowing what awaits you on the other side. The sound of knocking engulfs your house, it’s driving you mad. You breathe out a heavy sigh before storming towards the door and swinging it open.

“What,” you spit at him, trying to ignore the empathy that you feel at the sight of his red eyes and swollen lips. He just stares at you, almost like he was trying to tell if you were real or not. You started to close the door, seeing as you were just wasting time. His hand stops the door before it could shut. You open it again, wide enough for him to be back in your line of sight. He looks down at his intertwined hands that hold a single red rose before looking back up at you and extending his arms.

“I-i got this for you on my way here. I know you like daisies more, but I couldn’t find any so I thought this would be okay.” His voice was quiet and strained, like if he spoke up a little more he would break. He tries to keep a small smile on his face, but when you let a laugh escape your lips, he instantly frowns. You stop laughing.

“Why are you here, Oikawa?”

----------

You were with your friends partying

When the alcohol kicked in, said you wanted me dead

So, you showed up at my home, all alone

With a shovel and a rose

Do you think I’m a joke?

----------

Oikawa winces when his last name falls off your lips. He always loved it when you called him Tōru, and you knew that. But this wasn’t Tōru, not the one that you fell in love with. This wasn’t the same guy that would play with your hair when you laid your head in his lap, or kissed your fingertips when you’d accidentally burn them. No. This is someone different. Someone you feel you don’t even know.

“I’m.. I’m so sorry, Y/N! I never meant to hurt you. God, I’m such an idiot… I don’t even know how to explain myse-”

“Just answer me this. Did you ever love me? Or were these past nine months a complete lie?” You hold your breath, hoping the tears will stop threatening to fall. You were hesitant to ask these questions, knowing that the answer could crush you, but you needed to know. Oikawa’s eyes grew, tears cascading down his flushed cheeks.

“Of course I loved you! I still do, so, so much! These past nine months have been the best months of my entire life, none of it was fake, I promise. You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I can’t fake something like that…” Oikawa’s eyes were burning holes into yours, you started to wonder the last time he blinked. His words were convincing, but the words he said earlier this night kept playing on repeat in your head.

“Bullshit. If you love me so much, why would you say those things about me? Why would you tell them that I was some crazy stalker who was obsessed with you? Why would you tell them that you’re dating me as a joke? Why did you say all of these things that you knew would hurt me?” A single tear falls, causing the others to join. Oikawa takes a step forward, wanting to kiss your tears and pain away. You simultaneously take a step back, finally breaking the eye contact that bound the two of you together. His heart broke at the sight of you. Not only were you hurting, but you were hurting because of him.

“I-I just… Just… I-”

“You just what?”

He continues to stare at you, wondering whether or not he should even attempt to explain himself. His sober mind knows that his actions are the result of narcissism and stupidity, and there’s a chance that his lame excuse could hurt you even more.

“Most of the people that I was with tonight, I don’t usually hang out with. Recently Iwa-chan has been inviting them to hang out because they’re always pestering us and we thought if we hung out with them a few times, they would stop. So we invited them to hang out, have a few drinks, and show them how boring we are,” he stopped to take a breath, hesitant to move on. “I guess they knew that I was dating you and, for whatever reason, didn’t like that. They would make fun of me and say mean things and… it reminded me of my childhood when I used to get bullied and was an outcast. I guess it really traumatized me because when that feeling came back, I wanted nothing more than to make it disappear. I guess the alcohol made that decision for me and that’s when I started saying all of those horrible things and… I guess I didn’t think it was going to affect our relationship because I didn’t think you would ever find out… I know I’m such an asshole, but please you need to know that none of the things I told them were true. My love for you is completely and utterly real, and the fact that I screwed it up is killing me.”

You remain silent, once again staring into Oikawa’s eyes, reading him like a book. His eyes shine like glass, full of guilt and sorrow. His bottom lip is red from biting it, hoping to make it stop quivering. His interlocked hands are still holding the rose he brought you, his thumbs anxiously fiddling with each other. You can tell that he genuinely feels sorry and ashamed of his mistakes.

“Y/N. Please, say something. Anything.”

Unfortunately for him, there was no longer room in your heart for forgiveness.

“So I guess you’ve been telling them these kinds of things for a while now, huh? I guess that explains why you stopped acting like we’re a couple in public, right? You didn’t want one of your new friends to see us and question your motives.” You give a small laugh, not sure if it’s out of self-pity or anger. “You should go back to Iwaizumi’s. I’m sure they’re all wondering where you went and why you ran after your psychotic s/o who you don’t even like… Just keep telling them the same story, or better yet, why don’t you tell them that you broke my heart, threw it in my face, and then laughed at me? I’m sure you’ll earn some extra brownie points from them.” You look at his eyes one last time before turning around to walk back inside, pausing before shutting the door. “I’ll stop by your place tomorrow to pick up my things.”

Before you could close the door, Oikawa pleaded.

“Please don’t leave me. Please. I need you in my life.”

You pause at the shakiness in his voice, so close to caving in and forgetting all of the events that occurred tonight. Before you can make any impulsive decisions, you shut the door in his face, not wanting to think about how he’s feeling or what he’s going to do. You try to ignore any type of empathy you feel for him, he’s the one that hurt you, remember?

----------

Well, people like you always want back what they can’t have

But I’m past that, and you know that

So you should turn back to your rat pack, telling ‘em trash

----------

You lay on the sofa holding a picture of Oikawa in your lap, not attempting to move from your spot for the hour since Oikawa left. You hate that after all of the things he said about you, you still couldn’t stop thinking about him and how much you wish he were right next to you. You wish that he were holding you close and wiping the stray tears that leave your eyes, but instead, he was the one inflicting them. The white ceiling above you keeps your attention, becoming the screen as your memories become the projector. You can almost visualize all of the times you spent with Oikawa, even the times before you started dating. You wish you could go back to the simpler times, the times when things weren’t turning to shit.

Your phone rings beside you. You remember in the beginning of your relationship with Oikawa your heart would always race when you got a phone call or message, hoping that it was him on the other side. Even at a time like this, your mind can’t help but think of those chocolate eyes and soft brown locks. You pick up your phone and stare at the caller ID. It’s Oikawa.

You fight with yourself, deciding whether or not it would be smart to answer his call. You click ‘accept’ before you have a chance to back out again.

The call is silent with the exception of sniffles on the other end. Oikawa breaks the silence.

“Y/N? A-are you there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m here. Why are you calling?”

“I just really, really wanted to hear your voice.” You hear the rev of a car engine through the phone.

“You shouldn’t be talking on the phone while you’re driving. It’s dangerous.”

“But talking to you makes me feel so safe.” Silence engulfed the phone call, neither of you knowing what to say to each other. Oikawa starts to cry, his sobs soon becoming the only thing you can hear. You continue to not say a word.

“God, I’m so stupid. I thought I was finally getting my life together. I’m in good health, I have my dream job, I met the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I had to go and fuck it all up. Honestly I don’t give a shit about my health or my job, all I care about is you. I just love you so much, I can’t-” His words are cut off by a long screech and then a loud crash. Once again, the call is silent.

“O-oikawa?” There’s no reply. “Oikawa?! Tōru?! Are you okay? Please answer me?” Your breathing was becoming erratic, shaky fingers having a hard time keeping the phone pressed against your cheek. You hear a groan and shuffling from the other side before getting a response.

“Shit. I crashed my damn car into a tree.”

“I don’t care about the car, are you okay? I need to call an ambulance for you-”

“No,” he interrupts you, “I don’t want to see any paramedics. The only person I want to see is you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you need to go to the hospital. You probably have a concussion, and you’re bleeding, aren’t you?”

“I don’t care. I won’t see anyone but you.” Oikawa takes a deep breath before getting out of his wrecked car. He starts his walk back home, not caring to wait for first responders. “I’m not going to beg you to come, but if you want to see me, you know where to find me.” He hangs up the phone, leaving you speechless on the other end.

You don’t want to waste another second. You quickly grab your car keys and toss your jacket over your shoulder. Even though you know it’s going to hurt you to see him again, you need to make sure he’s okay.

----------

You just went too far

Wrecked your car, called me crying in the dark

Now you’re breakin’ my heart

So I show up at your place right away

Wipe the tears off of your face

While you beg me to stay

----------

It’s stupid. Stupid that you’ll drop everything you’re doing to rush to his side whenever he says he needs you. Stupid that you still love and care about him just as much as you did in the beginning.

You turn the engine off upon arriving at Oikawa’s apartment. You swiftly get out of your car and race to his door, taking the stairs instead of the elevator to save a few seconds. You fiddle with the keys on your keychain as you reach his front door, trying to find the matching one. You knew all too well that one of Oikawa’s antics is always locking the door, even when he’s expecting company. You find the fitting key and waste no time unlocking the door and scouting the place for any sign of life. You figure he’s in his bedroom as the kitchen and living room remain vacant.

You peek around the corner that leads into his room, spotting the tall man laying on the bed, legs dangling over the edge.You gasp at the blood, cuts and scrapes coving his skin. You walk over to him and grab his cold hand, pulling him off the bed and into the bathroom.

“Sit,” you order, pointing at the counter. He obeys without a word, head hanging low. You search the cabinets for a first aid kit, knowing that he would have one from his volleyball days. After finding the small box, you pull out the materials that were needed to clean him up; lots of antibacterial wipes, gauze and band-aids. You take one of the wipes and press it onto a cut on his shin, Oikawa hissing at the impact. You ignore it and continue to clean the scrapes that scatter both of his legs, finishing with a deeper cut on his knee. As you finished cleaning it, you heard him sniffle and watched a tear fall into his lap.

“What are you, five? It doesn’t hurt that much-”

“I didn’t think you would come,” he whispered, voice shaky and emotionless. You peer up at him, his head still hanging and refusing to meet your eyes. You reach your hand up and wipe the tears that wet his face, your palm lingering, cupping his cheek. He melted into your touch.

“Idiot… Of course I would come.”

You spend the rest of the time patching up his wounds in silence, neither of you able to find the correct words in this situation. You finish putting the last band-aid on his cheekbone, your face in shocking proximity to his. He stares into your eyes, you looking anywhere but. You’re afraid that if you look into his eyes, there’s no turning back.

“I should go,” you mutter, not wanting to overstay your visit. You turn around to walk out of the bathroom, but come to a halt with the feeling of Oikawa’s slender fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“Please don’t leave me.” His grip tightened slightly, but not enough to hurt you. “I need you. Please.”

You stare straight ahead, not daring to turn around and face him.

“I’ll stay,” you start, “If you promise to give up your pride and tell everyone that you were lying. Tell them that you really do love me and that you were scared of what others would think. I’ll stay if you promise never to lie about those kinds of things and to never hurt me like you have ever again. Can you do that?” The silence was eerie, and made your stomach do hundreds of flips. You hoped that the universe would be on your side for once and hear the things you wished would escape his lips.

“I-I can’t… I just-”

You grabbed his wrist with your vacant hand and violently removed his grasp from yours, not letting him finish his sentence. You still stood with your back towards him, not wanting him to see the tears that were once again trickling down your face. You pull your keychain out of your pocket, finding your key to Oikawa’s apartment and stripping it from the rest. You drop it onto the floor by your feet, clanging a few times on the hardwood floor before it stops. As you walk out of the bathroom, your words make his heart clench in his chest.

“Goodbye, Oikawa.”

----------

Tell all of your friends that I’m crazy and drive you mad

That I’m such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath

Then tell them you hate me, and dated me just for laughs

So why do you call me and tell me you want me back?

You maniac

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu social media #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu writers #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu angst #oikawa angst

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noona-clock · 3 years

Text

Traveling Love (Collab) - Part 4, Final Chapter

Genre: Fluffy/Romantic AU

Pairing: Nam Joo Hyuk x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, Masterlist | Words: 2,094

A/N: Welcome to the third series in the monthly Love In Fours Ways collab with myself, @jackiejacks923 @prettywordsyouleft & @this-song-thats-only-for-you . We have all taken inspiration from 4 illustrations (linked below), and during the last week of the month, we will each be sharing a 4-part mini-series based on those drawings.

Credit to: Puuung - Love Is In The Small Things

Part 4: Tucking Her into a Perfect Sleeping Burrito

You’d never experienced the feeling of Post-Vacation Blues quite as acutely as you were now.

When you’d planned this trip over the last several weeks, you’d had a feeling it was going to be wonderful -- not only because your destination had too many fun and exciting things to do and see and visit and eat, but because you were going with someone you loved. Plus, Joo Hyuk had really needed this vacation.

But you hadn’t been prepared for just how wonderful.

If you could’ve designed your perfect vacation with no limitations, it wouldn’t have been as perfect as the one you’d just taken with Joo Hyuk. You had absolutely never been on a trip like it, and you would absolutely never go on another trip like it again.

It’s not like you did anything extremely special or note-worthy; you explored the city, you took pictures, you ate delicious food, you saw beautiful scenery. Very typical vacation stuff!

Something about it had just been... special, and no amount of money or planning would ever be able to recreate this past week.

...However.

And you were very reluctant to admit this however, and you certainly wouldn’t admit it out loud to Joo Hyuk.

But. However.

All of the planning and the fact that you’d known how very much Joo Hyuk had needed a break from work had built up quite a bit of pressure for this vacation to be as perfect as it could be.

It had been as perfect as it could be, but perfect never comes easily.

You’d worked hard to help it become perfect, and now that it was all over and you were very soon to arrive back home...

You were feeling it.

All of the work you’d done before the trip, all of the activities you’d checked off during the trip, and the unconscious demand lurking in the back of your head for the trip to be just what Joo Hyuk needed... It was all coming to the tipping point the closer you got to your apartment, and by the time you stepped in through the front door, you felt like you were going to collapse with exhaustion.

“It does feel good to be home, though,” Joo Hyuk said, and his tone made it obvious that hadn’t been the first thing he’d said.

Were you already so tired that you were zoning out and missing full sentences?

“Mm,” you hummed, deciding not to let on that you were kind of about to drop right here on the floor and fall asleep -- that you were so exhausted, you’d completely missed the first part of whatever your boyfriend had said.

“I’m just going to check my email,” Joo Hyuk murmured as you began to lug your suitcase back toward your shared bedroom.

Again, you simply hummed in response -- and that’s how you knew your brain was fried. Joo Hyuk checking his email just after arriving home from vacation should have made you stop and warn him that he at least needed to wait until tomorrow to get back into Work Mode. But, no. You just hummed and trudged through your apartment to go unpack.

When you reached your bedroom, you let your suitcase fall to the floor, and you dropped onto your knees beside it to unzip it.

Your arms felt like lead -- or like they were stuck in Jello -- as you began to take out your clothes and put them in a pile next to you.

If you were in your right mind, you would have taken your suitcase closer to your clothes hamper to cut out the middle man.

But you were, apparently, just too tired to think efficiently at the moment.

Joo Hyuk’s voice suddenly cut through the silence, and you jumped a little --

...Wait.

How had he checked his email so quickly?

And why had his sudden presence startled you that much?

...Had you been --

“Why didn’t you tell me you were that tired?” Joo Hyuk said softly as he crouched down next to you.

Well, then. You had just fallen asleep while unpacking your suitcase.

You knew you were exhausted, but you didn’t realize you were that exhausted.

“Sorry,” you murmured, your brow furrowed as Joo Hyuk reached to pick you up. He slid one arm behind your knees, the other across your back, and stood up to carry you bridal-style to your bed. “I guess it just hit me all at once when we got home.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he replied, carefully leaning over and setting you on top of the bed. “You did a lot of work, and we were pretty busy this whole week. You just get some rest, and I’ll finish unpacking, okay?”

The second your head hit the soft cushion of your pillow, your eyes began to droop. You weren’t sure if you even responded to him, and the last thing you remember was Joo Hyuk reaching for the throw blanket at the end of the bed.

An indeterminate length of time later, the scent of something cooking tickled your nose. You smelled it first before you even blinked your eyes open, but when you did open your eyes, you found that not only had Joo Hyuk covered you with a blanket...

He had wrapped the blanket around you like the tortilla of a burrito.

A smile tugged at your lips, and you nestled into the blanket even further, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

You were wrapped up in your blanket like a burrito, the apartment smelled like the most delicious dinner was cooking, and you had just taken a much-needed nap.

There was no way you could be even remotely upset right now. Not even the tiniest bit.

With a groan, you began to sit up so you could unroll yourself and make your way to the kitchen. The smell of dinner was just too tempting to resist, and your stomach was on the verge of letting out a rather audible grumble.

But before you could even lift one corner of the blanket around you, you heard footsteps shuffling toward the bedroom. And when your gaze landed on the doorway, you saw Joo Hyuk had appeared gingerly carrying a steaming bowl, his hands covered by your favorite floral pot holders.

You managed to inch up into a seated position by the time he got to the side of the bed, and you asked, “What’s this?”

“I thought I would make you some soup,” he answered, perching on the edge of the mattress and shifting the bowl to cradle it in one hand. After slipping the pot holder from his now free hand, he took the spoon from inside the bowl and dipped it into the soup.

“Babe, you don’t have to feed me,” you chuckled, though you still accepted the spoonful he offered, slurping the soup carefully. Once you’d swallowed it, feeling the comforting warmth sliding down your throat, you added, “I’m not sick! I’m just exhausted.”

Joo Hyuk held out another spoonful of soup for you, waiting until you’d taken it before replying with, “Yeah, but you took care of me this whole week -- and a long time before then, too. It’s time for me to take care of you.”

“I did not take care of you,” you retorted with a soft grin.

“You absolutely did.”

“I just planned our trip! Once we actually got there, we did everything together.”

Your boyfriend let out a soft sigh and leaned over to set the bowl down on the nightstand. “I know, but... I know it hasn’t been easy because I’ve been so stressed out.”

“It really --”

“Just let me finish,” he interrupted, shooting you a playful smirk.

You pressed your lips together and snuggled back into your pillows.

“I know I’m not always the easiest person to live with because I don’t share things easily. Or... at all. Unless you force me to. And no one should have to do that to their partner, so I’m sorry I clam up when I’m stressed. But if it annoys you or worries you, literally no one would know. You either do an amazing job of hiding it or...”

He trailed off, so you took this opportunity to say something.

“Or I just know that’s how you are, and I love you. Unconditionally,” you said quietly.

Yes, sometimes it did annoy you that Joo Hyuk had such a hard time sharing how he felt. Sometimes you did feel like you were nagging him to be more open and forcing him to tell you what emotions he was experiencing.

But... you also understood that emotions can be super tricky. And complicated. And hard to express. Everyone is different, and everyone handles emotions differently. So, if you loved Joo Hyuk unconditionally, you had to accept that he was one of those people who just had a difficult time with them.

If you didn’t accept that, wouldn’t it be a condition to your love? You only loved him if he expressed his emotions freely?

So, you mustered all your patience and you gave him time. You helped him out as much as you could and stepped away when you felt like you needed to.

Joo Hyuk smiled down at his lap, shaking his head gently. “I... don’t know how I got so lucky finding you, but...” He lifted his gaze, looking at you with more love in his eyes than you really even knew what to do with. “I hope you know how much you mean to me, and that I never want to take you for granted.”

“Of course, I do,” you murmured, finally wriggling your hands free from your blanket burrito so you could cradle his ridiculously handsome face in your palms. “I know you, and I know that you letting me in is just one way you show me that you care. You may not realize it, but you do a lot of little things, and I learned pretty quickly that they all mean you love me.”

Joo Hyuk grinned bashfully, and you leaned in to capture his lips in a brief kiss.

“And I love you, too,” you whispered. “And I really love when you turn me into a blanket burrito and make soup for me, even if I’m not sick.”

Your boyfriend chuckled lightly, his breathy laugh grazing over your lips.

“It’s really good soup, by the way,” you told him as you pulled away and reached for the bowl on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” he replied, setting one of the pot holders in your lap so you could put the bowl there. “I used that cookbook you got me for Christmas last year.”

Your eyes widened, and you beamed over at him. “You did?!” you marveled. “Oh, now I really know you love me.”

“Please don’t take that to mean I want another one this year,” he laughed, shaking his head. “One cookbook is enough.”

“No, you can never have too many cookbooks!” you argued playfully. “Just like you can never have too many blankets.”

“That is also not true. We’re only two people, we can’t use that many --”

“But what if I want to be a different blanket burrito every day of the week?”

Joo Hyuk quirked a brow at you and opened his mouth to reply... but he stopped himself. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re right,” he mumbled before he got up and headed back out of the bedroom. “You’re right. You always are.”

Rather than crow triumphantly after him, you simply smiled down at your bowl of soup. You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from squealing, and that’s when you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Joo Hyuk would be by your side for as long as you both shall live.

After two years, he could still make you bite your lip and squeal like a young girl with a schoolyard crush. He could still make you smile like a kid on Christmas morning. He could still make your heart and stomach flip just like he could the first time you’d met him.

...I mean, you’d already known he was your Forever, long before this. But you know what I mean. You just knew even more.

At home, on vacation, stressed out, in a blanket burrito, with a bowl of soup, out on the balcony, under the stars...

Whenever, wherever, however -- it didn’t matter.

Forever and ever, even more, he was yours.

#kwritersworldnet #nam joo hyuk scenarios #nam joo hyuk imagines #nam joo hyuk au #nam joo hyuk fluff #nam joo hyuk fanfic #kdrama scenarios #kdrama imagines #kdrama au #kdrama fluff #kdrama fanfic #kdrama actor #korean actor #nam joo hyuk

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heartsywritesthethings · 3 years

Text

Tickling Plus Ultra! 2

Part 1

“Wh-what?” Deku stammered, his entire face burning red almost immediately. Why was Bakugo asking this question when he already knew the answer?

“Man, why is this turning into a truth or tickle game? Why can’t we play something more fun like strip poker? Or strip jenga? Or strip–” Mineta began before a length of tape wrapped around his face. The purple pervert looked at Sero in shock before pulling at the tape on his face. When it didn’t budge, he looked around the room for anyone’s assistance. No one moved to help.

“I dunno. I kinda like truth or tickle! It makes things more fun!” Mina said, sitting back in her spot.

“It does make the risk of one of us possibly embarrassing ourselves and getting caught greatly reduced,” Iida mumbled to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Uraraka hummed, though she was mostly just talking about the embarrassed look on Deku’s face.

“Answer the question ya damn nerd.” Bakugo said, ignoring the chattering of his other classmates.

“Uh-uh-um. I…I guess I would have to say, uh…well, my lower stomach and hips are pretty bad…but then again, my ribs are pretty bad as well…and then there’s my underarms…or maybe my feet…I’d need to do some proper research I guess…” Midoriya said, his voice lowering to his usual mutter.

“Wow, Deku, you really are ticklish pretty much everywhere.” Uraraka laughed and nudged him in the side in order to get him to stop talking to himself. Deku jumped and his cheeks turned pink.

“Y-yeah. I guess. Not a very heroic thing, though.” Deku said and scratched the back of his head nervously. “Oh, uh it’s my turn n-”

“You’re dead, Deku!” Bakugo yelled, leaping from his position and tackling Deku to the floor. Soon, Bakugo was straddling his middle and his tickly wiggling fingers descended almost immediately over Deku’s lower torso. Deku almost immediately exploded in laughter, his arms flying down in an attempt to guard his vulnerable tickle spots.

“AHAHAHAH KAHAHAHACHAAAAN!” Deku whined, his head flying back against the floor as he laughed.

“I’m not even tickling you that bad, ya damn nerd!” Bakugo said.

Suddenly, he was floating in the air, softly flying away from his ticklee target.

“You leave Deku alone!” Uraraka said, pulling Deku up as Bakugo floated softly and harmlessly away.

“Ihihit’s okay, Uraraka.” Deku giggled, though he was thankful for the help.

“How about we call it a night before this whole place falls apart in a tickle mess?” Iida said, gesturing for everyone to get up.

“Well, well, well…” a voice said from the darkness of the dorm hall. The entire class of 1-A all turned to see…

Shigaraki?! How did he get in here?!

The heroes of class 1-A all jumped to their feet as they realized that there was an intruder within a little sleepover.

“I should have guessed that a class full of small students would all have such a similar and childish weakness.” Shigaraki hummed. The man sauntered forwards more and out of the darkness.

“You again?!” Bakugo said, little balls of fire forming in his hands. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Kacchan! Wait!” Deku exclaimed, jumping up as well. In a flash, Bakugo just…disappeared. One moment he was there and then he was just gone. Shigaraki chuckled and waved his hand to motion for the Nomus to step forward as well. They were clear to see as well, all standing in the windows.

“Iida! Go get the teachers!” Deku said, getting in his hero position. He jumped forward, using about 15% of his power in his legs. Kirishima jumped forward too, wanting to grab at Shigaraki as well.

“Right behind you, Deku!” Uraraka yelled as she used her quirk to propel herself forward.

The three all disappeared in the darkness of the Void villain, falling into absolute nothingness. Kirishima, Uraraka, and Deku all floated into nothingness. None of them could see anything, not even their own hands in front of them.

Then, all three of them fell harshly to the ground.

“Good of you three to follow us. Perfect.” Shigaraki hissed, kneeling down by all three of the fallen heroes.

“Where did you–?!” Deku began before He was harshly grabbed from behind and yanked up in the air by a rough Nomu hand.

“I’m glad that we decided to work together. Now, I’ll leave these three for you to destroy, my dear.” Shigaraki said, waving for another villain to step forward.

In front of the now restrained heroes stood the League of Villains. Dabi, Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, and Kurogiri all stared back at the kids. The hearts of the three 1-A students all dropped as they realized how much of a pickle that they were really in. There was no way that they could really fight against all of these high level villains. Did anyone at the dorms have any idea where they were now? Was there any way that they could get out of here?

Back at the dorms, Shoto Todoroki watched as four of his friends were taken from him. He had been so shocked by the sudden ambush that he hadn’t even moved. Everything had happened so quickly and he mentally kicked himself for not moving faster. Damn, even Deku had jumped into action before he had.

“What are we gonna do?!” Mina screamed, stumbling away from the windows. Dozens of nomus were waiting for them, just staring through the windows.

“None of them are attacking.” Todoroki said, though he was ready for a fight anyways. They were just keeping them all here in the dorms. Something else was going on. It didn’t quite sit right with him.

Not that the kidnapping of several friends would sit right with anyone.

“Iida, you need to get help and fast. As much as my ice and fire can keep some of them away, they have proven to be too strong for even pro heroes.” Todoroki said, taking the role as the leader as several of their strongest heroes were taken away.

Not him though.

And that was a mistake. The other students pulled themselves off the bed and raised their fists defensively. There was going to be a fight, and it was going to be a dirty one. They did need to get some pro help, however. Iida nodded, and jumped a couple of times to get his legs warmed up.

“I’ll go from the roof. That way, I can make my escape from the Nomus from above!” Iida said.

“But if you jump from that height, you’re surely going to break a leg or something. Then, you won’t get anywhere.” Momo said, pulling a knife from her arm and beginning to cut away at her clothes. Mineta stared and while he couldn’t say anything, everyone still had a vague idea of what was going on in his perverted little brain.

“What are you doing, Momo?” Tsu asked, tilting her head as she watched her friend.

“I’ll…I’ll need some food and quick. We have to get Iida out of here, and he’s right, the roof is the way to go. I just want to make sure that he lands safely.” Momo said, turning away from everyone as she continued to tear up her shirt.

“Smart.” Todoroki said with a small nod, understanding exactly what was going on here. Momo had a good plan here, but everyone just had to get into position.

“Alright, we need to get out of here, but we will have to work together. Shoji, cover up Momo with your arms while also keeping your eyes out on as many Nomus as you can. Jiro, Kaminari, attempt to get some form of message out there over the radio waves. Hagakure, we’ll need you to sneak out the back as well. See if you can get past the nomus using your quirk. Mina and Tokoyami, look after her as best as you can. See if you can at least just get her out of the building safely. Everyone else, we’re going to hold down the fort here and see if we can get Momo’s plan into action.” Todoroki said, pointing at each of them in turn as he spoke their names.

“What are you planning, Todoroki?” Iida asked, looking between everyone.

“We are going to blast through the front to get Momo’s cushion out in front of the building. That way, when you jump, you’ll land safely.” Todoroki answered.

“But, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to just run through the chaos? If we’re just gonna make a hole in their defense…?” Mina asked.

“We don’t want Iida getting caught in the crossfire. If we can guarantee his safety in getting him out of here, as well as Hagakure being a back up, we are sure to get some pro heroes here so we can start looking for the league of villains.” Todoroki said in a low voice. Just thinking about how those other heroes had just burst into action, anger bubbled up in his chest. Even if it meant that he would have to face his father and answer questions from the officials, they had to get Deku and the others back.

“Hang in there, guys. We’re coming.”

“Aw, I am so lucky!” Toga exclaimed as she jumped up and down around the three restrained 1-A students. The other villains had left her and Twice at their hideout, opting to get a head start on the pro heroes that were sure to be on the lookout for them soon.

“You all look so so so so so cute! And! Now that handsy boy has told me you all have something in common, I am more than happy to oblige!” Toga said, looking at all three of the kids up and down. Her cruel smile took up her entire face, her eyes slitting like a cat’s.

Kirishima, Uraraka, and Deku were all held above the ground by the many roughed hands of the nemus. Toga danced in front of them, tapping them each on the stomach as she passed by each of them.

“That’s just soooooo adorable! I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before!” Toga sang as she skipped around.

“Who. Will. I. Tickle. First?” She asked, looking between all three of them.

“You won’t touch any of us! You villain!” Kirishima said, struggling against the nomu’s tough grip.

“Why yes! Of course! But a villain would harm you three! I’ve been ordered not to as the big bag ham hands wants someone to come and grab you later! They’re way too occupied by all the running and the chasing.” Toga said, in a sing-song voice.

“Allmight will find you all! This won’t last!” Deku yelled, his teeth grinding together in all of his anger.

“Although, I might wanna take my favorite out of you three with me! As a little present to myself for doing such a good job!” Toga said and jumped up and down, clapping her hands together as if applauding herself.

“I’ll start with…hmmmm…You! You first!” Toga exclaimed.

And just like that, her first victim was chosen.

(9/25)

-Ga!babe

#did I lose all sense of time yesterday and forget to post?#yeah #yeah I did #my bad #25 Days of Fics #9/25 #submission #GA!babe #mha #got some villains up in here!!#(me being lazy with tags cause I wanna post the other one)

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buck-nialled · 4 years

Note

Could I request something where Niall and the reader are just messing about, it could be late one evening and they’re not tired at all so they put some music on and dance like fools and make each other laugh and just have a great time

its a lengthy one ppl get ready! especially you, anon, hope ya like it!

Drunk Dancing - N. Horan Imagine

“We could…watch Netflix?” Niall raises his eyebrows as he tilts his head down at you. You only roll your eyes and snuggle deeper into his torso, your body fitting comfortably between his two legs on the couch.

“We’ve watched everything on there and I’m not in the mood to just sit.”

“You’re sitting right now!” Niall argues with a scoff.

“I’m laying.” You huff, before erecting your body upwards and sitting up against the sofa’s back. “Now I am sitting.”

“Okay, but you don’t want to sit. So, what do ya want to do then?” You hummed and took a glance around your apartment, with no certain idea striking your mind. Your eyes dart to the small closet harboring your extra blankets and various party games for your friends.

“Battleship?” You suggest, earning only a vigorous shake of Niall’s head. “Don’t be a sore loser because you lost last time.” You remark as you stood up from your spot on the couch and took the empty plates off of the coffee table. As you stroll your way into the kitchen, you catch a defensive grumble leaving Niall, which has you holding back giggles. You could not help that you were a master at the game.

“Golf’s on!” You heard Niall exclaim, as you set the two plates and silverware into the sink to clean later on.

“Don’t even think about it.” All this week your brain had been replaying games and various phrases from how many games Niall watched during his off time. You did not mind the sport at all, but the man adored it to an extent you never knew could be reached.

“You’re no fun! I bet you couldn’t think of a better idea.” Rolling your eyes at his childish quip, a ding draws your attention away from the television’s sounds of clubs hitting golf balls. You had forgotten you left it on the counter when Niall came through the door, right as you were finishing up dinner. What was I even doing, the thought crossed your mind as you unlocked your phone?

The familiar Spotify playlist you and Niall had made comes into view, making a smile instinctively wash over your face. It specifically lists all of your favorite songs as a couple, so neither of you could skip a song of the other’s or sit in place awkwardly while the other belted all of the words out alone. These were songs the two of you knew and loved. Over the time that you both have been together, the list has only accumulated. You find yourself adding at least one new song every couple of days by how much music the two of you listen to together.

You hit shuffle on the playlist and turned up the volume enough to hear it play over the golf match. In a moment of spontaneity, you climbed up onto the counters lining the periphery of your kitchen and reached a hand up into one of the kitchen cabinets. After securing your hand around the tepid neck of the wine bottle you were saving for your and Niall’s anniversary, you let the thought cross your mind without qualms. You could always afford another if you decided you wanted it. However, one of your knees slipped off of the counter due to your unbalanced state as you were trying to reach the floor. You let a squeal leave you as your body followed, ready to flop on the impending tile, but instead finding itself wrapped in warm skin.

“What’re you doing?” Niall asks nonchalantly. A guilty blush covers your cheeks as you deliver a sheepish smile back. Your hand, still attaining the wine, lifted it up to catch the attention of his curious blues.

“Celebrating early? Happy almost-aversary!” You cheered, While Niall safely placed your body back onto the floor.

“You want to celebrate now? It’s still a couple of days away.” Niall reminds you, who was digging through the drawers near the stove before holding up the corkscrew in satisfaction.

“So? Who says the celebration can’t be a couple of days long?” You reason, already beginning to twist the large, pointed screw into the cork lodged in the bottle’s mouth. Your hips swayed lightly to the music as you kept twisting the screw into the cork. You saw Niall’s body wander away from the corner of your eye, and soon felt his prescience behind you, his hands making themselves at home on your hips, while his lips find themselves by your ear.

��I guess your right,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. “But it’s not worth an injury.” He comments, before sending a teasing pinch to your hip. It makes your hip jerk away from the mild affliction. “Don’t need any more dodgy knees than we’ve already got.”

“Aww, but I was so hoping to have it damaged! Then I could go to the hospital, get surgery, we could even get matching screws in our legs! We would never get past TSA together.” You jest, but immediately regret your words at the repercussion that was Niall’s hands at your sides again, tickling and poking at them. Your hands cover his in an attempt to stop them, but they do not.

“Little shit.” Niall murmurs, as he continues the devilish assault on your skin. It makes a barrage of laughter leave the two of you. When his hands finally move away, you let out a few broken laughs that are continuously interrupted with deep breaths.

“You want to do the honors?” You ask Niall, jerking your chin at the cork, ready to be freed from the neck of the wine bottle. Niall nods and takes a hold of the tight screw impaled in the cork and tugs it fiercely before a loud POP echo around the kitchen’s walls. You could not help your wandering hands from traveling up his arms, which have been appearing even more muscular each time you take notice of them.

“Your knees might be dodgy but these do you enough justice, trust me.” You smirk. Niall raises his eyebrows at your brazen statement.

“That so?” You answer your question with a nod and string of giggles, before meeting his lips for a few short kisses. But they turn into more than a few, and longer than “short” could describe. Before you knew it, your hands were climbing up the hem of the wifebeater adorning his top half, your fingers trying to sneak beneath it. At the feeling of your eager fingertips on his skin, he hums against your lips before separating them from his own and reaching up to grab ahold of your hands.

“Woah, I think you owe me a drink before we go any further.” Niall jokes but urges you to grab some wine glasses from the cabinet. You pout in disappointment but agreed with Niall. It would be a waste to let the wine just sit here and not be drunk after you spent five minutes and a near-hospital trip in order to open the thing.

“What brand did you even get? Domaine Drouhin Oregon Pinot Noir?” Niall reads out the name with a suspicious look. Drinking wine was a rarity between the two of you, as beer was the usual choice. “Is this good?” he asks, twisting the bottle in his hands to observe the detailing on the wrapping.

You shrug. “We’re about to find out.” Setting down the bottles, you took the bottle from Niall’s hands without a single word exchanged and poured a reasonable amount into your own glass. But when you poured Niall’s, you waited until his eyes grew wide as to how much wine you were flooding his glass with and he cried for you to stop. As a result, the amount in his own glass was almost double the amount which filled yours.

“How drunk are you trying to get me, lover?” He cocks a single brow at you, who could not hide the smile behind the glass of wine in front of your lips.

“Well, you never gave a specific amount.” You say. “But if you want my opinion…enough to get you in bed with me.” You whisper the last part, as though it were secret and you and Niall were comfortable strangers. He scoffs and raises his glass of wine out to be level with your own.

“We live together, pet. Going to the same bed at the end of the night, anyway.” You two meet in the middle with the glasses, clinking them together.

“Happy almost-aversary, Ni.”

“Happy almost-aversary, love.”

You both bring the glasses to your lips and take a slow sip of the crimson liquor, before spitting it into your kitchen sink almost immediately after.

“Shit!” Niall spits, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe at his lips. “The fuck did you buy, Y/N/N?” He asks, appalled by the flavor still tainting his mouth. You stand up from your crouched position above the sink, attempting to rid the taste from your own tongue.

“I don’t know. It looked fancy, we both like red. It was a little pricier than some…figured I couldn’t go wrong.” You shrug, jutting out your bottom lip at the failed experimentation. Niall could only chuckle, chest still bouncing as he brought your chest to meet his.

“Awe, it’s alright love. Now we know not to blindly choose wine next time.” All you do is whine into his chest, which elicits more chuckles. Niall’s fingers thread through your hair and brush it back in a comforting motion. “I still appreciate you tried, darling. Even if you couldn’t get me drunk.” You pick up your red face away from his chest and look up to meet his eyes, peering down at you with affection.

“Love, listen.” He instructs in a hushed tone, making your eyebrows furrow. A song quietly flowed from your phone on the counter. But not just any song.

“It’s our song.” He dragged you over to the phone and turned the volume up the highest it would reach. His hands grab your waist, unbridled and begin swaying your body with his, reveling in the feeling of your arms linking around his neck and fingers brushing through the hair above his neck. Niall dips you without warning, making your breath hitch and body tense. He gives you an admonishing look once bringing your body back up with his.

“C’mon love, you didn’t think I’d drop you, did ya? With these guns?” He takes an arm away from your middle and lifts it up to flex his biceps. “You even said it yourself, they do me justice.” He smirks, letting the arm drop back to its original position.

“Still right.” You say, resuming your slow dance number across the kitchen floor.

hope you all enjoyed this one! more niall fluff can be found HERE (aka my masterlist) :)

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lost-in-sokovia · 4 years

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The Years That Passed and the Years Past (Part 2)

back by popular demand because i had WAY too many sad steve rogers fangirls on my page and we can’t let that happen😅... so here’s your part 2 where i’ll fix some dumb steve crap, and you can read part one here! so @heyiamthatbitch @lovely-geek @vesta-ro @yn-the-reader @ladythena @itzelreader , here you go! anyway, i hope you all enjoy!💙 (beginning dialogue is not my own, it is from the avengers: endgame script. thank you!)

Steve and Bucky hugged each other in front of the platform in the forest. The sun was still shining and it was a beautiful day.

Tony’s funeral was finished and it was now time for Steve to return the Infinity Stones where they belonged so time and history wouldn’t mess itself up.

Steve and Bucky broke their embrace and Bucky looked at his best friend with his sad blue eyes.

“Gonna miss you buddy,” he whispered.

“It’s gonna be okay, Buck,” Steve reassured his best friend. Bucky smiled softly, knowing that very soon things weren’t going to be the same.

He turned and began to walk into the platform where he would travel through time again. Bruce pushed buttons and flipped switches on the control panel as Steve mentally prepared himself.

Steve pushed the button and his time-traveling suit formed around his body as he gripped the briefcase containing the precious stones. The mjlonir was at his side and he stood still and solemn.

“How long is this gonna take?” Sam asked skeptically.

“For him as long as he needs, for us five seconds,” Bruce replied.

Steve turned around slowly and grabbed the mjolnir, looking through the trees over to Tony and Pepper’s house.

“You ready, Cap?” Bruce asked.

Steve sighed nervously and nodded as Bruce messed with more controls. He was about to reunite with the love of his life and he was scared?

This was all going to work out.

He had spent time and effort thinking about and making this decision.

It was what he wanted, and this was going to make him happy. A life with Peggy Carter, the love of his life.

Right?

The sun shined on him through the trees and he closed his eyes for a brief second.

“Alright, we’ll meet you back here okay?” Bruce replied as the machine started to rev up with a high-pitched whir.

Steve stood there for a minute before allowing the helmet to form over his head. Images of you and Luca flew through his head.

Luca was his son, his little mini-me and someone who loved and looked up to him.

Luca was your’s and Steve’s.

You.

Steve thought about how perfect your relationship used to be. How much joy you brought him. The way your (Y/E/C) eyes lit up when you met him, and how your smile gave him butterflies.

You and Steve had made this child who he just met, and was now going to abandon?

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“You bet,” Steve said back with a new motive. The helmet formed over his head and with another whir and a zap of light, he was gone.

Bucky stood there in his warm jacket and watched the place where Steve once stood. He was gone now and it would be different when he returned.

Bucky thought about you and Luca. How was that little boy going to make it through life without his father who was ripped from him? Bucky knew you were strong and could take care of your boy by yourself, but it just wouldn’t be the same.

He sighed and looked up for a minute. Maybe he could fill in for Steve? Not like that of course, but he could help Luca through life? Bucky wanted to cry.

Bruce counted down from five, and suddenly Steve was back where he stood. Bucky’s eyes widened and he stepped back, shocked. Sam smiled and nodded with satisfaction because as far as he knew, this was supposed to happen.

Bruce began to happily shut everything off after the successful mission and Steve ran off the platform to Bucky.

“Steve?” Bucky gasped as he eyed his best friend with concern. “Weren’t you going to-?”

“Buck, I can’t do it,” Steve confessed. “(Y/N) and Luca are my life and family, what was I thinking?” He put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky stared with wide blue eyes into his best friend’s blue eyes filled with conflict.

Bucky nodded and Steve sighed before quickly turning around to look at Sam and Bruce.

“Great job, Cap,” Sam complimented. Bruce nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah Steve, that was great-“

“Look I have to go,” Steve said urgently, gesturing his head up to the direction of the Stark residence. Sam stared for a moment with squinted eyes, then shrugged.

“O-Okay, whatever you say man.” Sam replied casually. Steve glanced over to Bruce before taking off into the opposite direction.

As he ran through the trees he thought of the life he could have with you and his son. His son who he loved and needed to be with.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

~•~•~•~

You buckled Luca into his car seat quietly. You had let him meet Morgan and you had discussed play dates with Pepper. You let him meet Clint’s family and his kids were delighted to meet him. Cassie Lang had even volunteered to ever be a possible babysitter if you needed one in a bind. Peter Quill had mesmerized your boy and Peter Parker made him laugh.

Despite all his new friends, Luca longed for his dad.

The sun shined through the windows of your car and warmed Luca. You watched a tear fall down his soft cheek as he looked down sadly. His blue eyes were watery and his face was beginning to flush.

You frowned and sighed; Luca wasn’t the only one who wanted Steve.

You kissed your boy’s head before walking around and climbing into the driver seat of the car. You ran a hand through your (Y/H/C) hair and closed your eyes for a moment.

What a whirlwind these past couple of weeks had been.

You started the car and began to drive away from the scene. You checked on Luca through the mirror and saw his sad little face that couldn’t help but choke you up. He wiped away tears with his small fingers and sniffed.

“It’s a bit of a drive home baby, you can go to sleep if you’d like,” you inquired softly. He continued to look down.

“I m-miss Daddy,” he whimpered. You felt your eyes water and turned on Luca’s playlist with lullabies and his favorite songs, not wanting your son to see you cry too.

“I do too Luca... Try to go to sleep,” you said caringly. He nodded and slumped down into his car seat, closing his eyes and inhaling shakily.

You still couldn’t believe what Steve had done, even after meeting his son. His son! You shook your head and focused on the road. Bucky would always be in contact, you thought. Bucky would do anything for you.

You let your mind race as you drove through the backroads towards home.

~•~•~•~

By the time Steve had gotten back to where everyone gathered, you were gone. He clenched his fists in frustration and ran a hand through his hair.

He looked around the area and was trying to piece together an idea of where you may be heading.

He knew he had to get back to the compound to try and figure out where you were currently living.

If Steve was going to dedicate his life to you it needed to start today; and he wanted to.

~•~•~•~

It was about a thirty-minute drive from the Stark’s to your house. By the time you pulled in front of your complex, you were exhausted.

You checked in the mirror to see your baby boy sleeping in his car seat, his blond tufts tussled about. You rubbed your (Y/E/C) eyes and sighed, unbuckling and getting out to grab your son.

The sun embraced your body as a cool breeze blew your hair back. You opened the car door and gently unbuckled Luca and picked him up.

Luca laid his head against your shoulder and gently grabbed a few strands of your hair, a comfort-habit he’d had since he was a baby.

You walked into the lobby of your complex and waved at the bell boy. You walked up to the elevator and pushed the button to your floor.

Once you were in your apartment, you took off Luca’s dirty clothes gently as he slept, leaving him only in his Mickey Mouse underwear. You tossed them aside and laid your boy on your bed and covered him.

You sat beside him a second as you stroked his soft blond hair, admiring how much he looked like Steve.

You kissed him and quietly slipped out, pulling the door slightly closed behind you.

You walked over to your couch and collapsed on it, falling asleep from exhaustion before you could even set any alarms to wake yourself up. You deserved this though.

You deserved a break.

~•~•~•~

After frantically speeding back to the compound, Steve began to open all of your data and record files.

Full name, birthdate, hometown, parents, occupation... Nothing on current whereabouts.

Not even with all the advanced tech that Tony left behind could he begin to piece together where you might be.

He would’ve asked Nat for help, but she wouldn’t be there to do that anymore...

Steve searched his brain for any trace of where you could be. The past couple days had be so chaotic he couldn’t remember where the team picked you up to recruit you again.

How the hell could he forget something as important as that?

He paced back and forth, holding his hands tightly behind his back and growing angry with himself. He then stopped abruptly with wide blue eyes.

He remembered the day he had helped move you out of your old apartment and officially into Avengers Tower. The day he was just trying to help the new recruit.

Though that was long ago, it was the only shot he had.

Grabbing his keys he made his way to his car, getting ready to go drive just outside the heart of New York and to the nice little complex where you may or may not have been located.

Whatever it took, he was going to find you.

~•~•~•~

You were able to sleep for about a good hour and a half before you were woken by giggles and extra weight on top of you.

You smiled and opened your eyes to meet Luca’s bright blue ones right in front of you. Happiness danced in them as he laughed again and wrapped his arms around your neck.

You hugged him tightly and tickled his belly which made him squeal. You pushed back your tangled (Y/H/C) hair and stretched out your legs.

“Did you have a good nap, Luca?” You asked nicely as he nodded. He jumped off of you and presented to you that he redressed himself...

In his blue Captain America shirt with bright orange shorts (that you were pretty sure were backwards) and just one neon green sock.

“Mommy I dressed myself!” He exclaimed proudly, doing a little turn to show you. You smiled while stifling laughter, not wanting to hurt his feelings; he made a decent effort.

“You did! Look at you!” You replied and stood up and picked him up. You twirled him around and kissed him all over his face. He laughed and you patted his back as you set him back down.

“Mommy is still in her clothes from earlier, maybe she should get changed then we can eat.” You winked. Your boy jumped up and down enthusiastically.

“Let me help you get clothes mommy!” Luca grabbed your hand and started to lead you to your room.

“O-Oh, okay...”

~•~•~•~

Steve pulled up to the building you apparently lived in. It was a nice little complex, small, but you definitely needed a steady income to afford it.

He climbed out and walked in, his nerves starting to get to him.

The bell boy smiled at him nicely as Steve walked up to him.

“H-Hi, does (Y/N) (Y/L/N) live here? I’m an old colleague,” Steve explained quietly. The boy stared for a moment then smiled.

“You’re Captain America...” He said. Steve nodded and the boy grabbed Steve’s hand to shake it.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done, m-my family wouldn’t be back today if it wasn’t for you,” he said in gratitude. Steve nodded as the boy rustled around and grabbed a key.

“She lives in 14B,” the bell boy said. Steve sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair.

“Thank you,” Steve said breathlessly and ran up the stairs to get to your floor.

He stood at your door for a moment and inhaled. He could vaguely make out your voice and his son’s squeals and excited voice.

He inserted the key into your door.

After Luca had helped you change into a very stylish outfit of your red Avengers logo shirt with your bright pink sweatpants, the two of you scrolled on your phone for a place to order takeout from.

When the two of you heard your doorknob jiggle you looked up and Luca held onto to you tightly.

And before you could do anything else Steve Rogers stood in your apartment with a relieved expression.

His blond hair was no longer neat and his blue eyes pierced into your (Y/E/C) ones.

“Daddy!” Luca screamed and ran across the room to hug him. Steve knelt down and embraced his son tightly.

You stood up with an open mouth and tears in your eyes. Steve squeezed his son one last time before standing up and looking at you as a tear fell from his eyes.

Luca stood to the side of Steve but his smile didn’t falter. You ran up to Steve and kissed him passionately, him wrapping his arms around your waist and you putting your hands on his cheeks.

He picked you up with lips still connected, then set you down and slowly pulled away to admire your gorgeous face.

Your gaze never broke away from him as though you were afraid that if you blinked he would leave once again. He swiped a tear from your eyes and gently grabbed one of your hands to kiss it.

You hugged him again and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“I-I thought I lost you,” you whispered shakily.

He was never going again. Feeling your touch again and seeing your beautiful face, the way you gave him butterflies and a reason to keep going on in life. He couldn’t ask for more.

“I’m not going anywhere, (Y/N),” Steve reassured softly. He rubbed your back and gently tugged you away so he could kiss you again.

“I love you,” He said softly with a smile and those dazzling blue eyes. You hugged again, and Steve felt a small tug on his pants.

He looked down and saw his baby boy Luca still smiling up at him, reaching up in a gesture to be picked up.

Steve chuckled and reached down to hoist up his mini-me. Steve kissed Luca’s soft cheek and smiled at him.

“Daddy are you going to stay?” Luca asked. Steve glanced at you with a smile and looked back at the bubbly boy in his arms.

“Yes Luca, and I promise to be here for the rest of your life.”

“Infinity and always?” Luca asked. Steve tussled his son’s blond hair as he giggled.

“Infinity and always,” Steve replied.

Steve set Luca down as Luca ran over to the couch to begin a grand tour of your not-so-grand apartment.

Steve held your hand as the two of you followed Luca.

“(Y/N),” Steve started. “Not to start off our new life like this... But who dressed you?”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Welcome to parenthood, Captain America.”

WELL I THINK THAT WAS CUTE?? like did i live up to your expectations? did i fix everything? also can “infinity and always” be the new “i love you 3000” for luca? anyways, i hope you enjoy that lil bean luca and you’re always welcome to throw him in your requests anytime! thanks always for reading!💙

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hecallsmehischild · 3 years

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Recent Media Consumed

Books

A Knot in the Grain and Other Stories by Robin McKinley. Not bad for a fantasy short story compilation, but as I read the stories I felt like too many questions went unanswered, or the answer wasn’t clear enough. I know there’s an art to not answering questions and making that intentional, but I didn’t pick up the feeling of the author being intentionally vague. It was still fun to read. I’m really just in a fantasy binge mode.

Fire and Water by Robin McKinley and Peter Dickinson. Both books are collections of short stories based on elemental spirits. Eh…. they were okay. Didn’t like them as much as the others.

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Hard book to get through. There’s so much monologuing and it doesn’t all make sense to me. People seem to be talking trite nonsense half the time and then being unbearably deep the other half. It is an interesting look at morbid aspects of the human heart. Might be that it’s a bit over my head to appreciate fully, but I’d like to read at least one more by this author. Maybe The Brothers Karamazov.

Movies

Hello Dolly. (mini liveblogging of reactions) There are way too many musicals I have not gotten around to seeing, simply because I have old favorites and sometimes it’s hard to get out of a rut. I am two minutes and four seconds in and CLEARLY not watching this before now was a failure on my part. I am in awe of the opening sequence that is just a series of legs and feet, but they are all moving to the music and they tell a dozen different stories that are very easy to understand even without seeing anybody’s top half, this is EXCELLENT framing and shooting and I feel like I’m in for a real treat. (In the middle of “It takes a woman”) I cannot tell you how much I missed over the top satire. This very much has the feel of My Fair Lady’s “With A Little Bit of Luck”. But then it’s taken up by the protagonist with an entirely different tone and WHAM the feels hit. I’m not enjoying all of the musical numbers, but there’s this one bit in the middle of the song about dancing where Dolly accepts a dance invitation from the grizzled old groundskeeper, and seeing this high-class looking widow take his invitation without a shred of irony, and to see him take her dancing in such a way that shows he’s clearly done this for many years and may be a widower himself, it’s just this strange sweet kind of moment that’s meant to be savored. And then again WHAM this high class widow, whenever she has a musical number in private, just NAILS you with her song and performance and all her emotions. Barbara Streisand was incredible, absolutely incredible. A lot of the other characters don’t really feel real, they feel like Musical People. She slips on the clothes of a Musical Person but then she drops the facade and shows you how hard all this is for her and it’s incredible. The movie is worth it just to watch HER. Even if it is very stressful watching her manipulate conversations and move people around like pawns. I have to say I do not, for the life of me, understand why she wants a relationship with Mr. Horace Vandergelder, or why he agrees. They look like they’ll make each other miserable for life.

Honest Thief. I went in with low “dumb robbery movie” expectations and was pleasantly surprised. I think I was most surprised by the fantastic chemistry of the couple and pretty much everyone’s acting. Aside from the acting it wasn’t anything remarkable, but everyone took it up to the next level. Nice flick. Also it tickles me to hear the voice of Aslan talking about how he carried out perfect robberies.

Nezha. Holy. Cow. Okay it doesn’t make total sense to me, not all the way through, but I chalk that up to missing cultural/lit knowledge and translation issues. Setting that aside, animation was gorgeous. Story was fun, but also compelling. There was some gross-out humor, but I’ve seen worse. And the climactic fight scene? Man. It went SO LONG but I didn’t even care. Some fight scenes drag on, but this one could have been twice as long and I would have been fine with that. The creators of this film really went all out with creativity and variety all throughout the film. I don’t totally understand the ending but I would love to see more (as the credits scenes hinted that there might be more). Oh wait, there is more and it’s called Jiang Ziya…

The Mitchells vs The Machines. This movie was so full of heart and also so full of complete over the top dumb goofiness. It kind of reminded me of Despicable Me in that way. Definitely brought a smile to my face.

Shows

Star vs the Forces of Evil. I had to re-watch through Eclipsa’s and Meteora’s arc because I’d seen that much before, but too long ago to remember. I re-watched it, then settled in for the last season which I hadn’t seen before. Watching through the new content and… I’m… disappointed. Story seems to be all over the place. The conflict is so forced it hurts. People are flatter than flat. And they’re all idiots. I feel like the show is trying to reach for a moral and don’t even know what that is from episode to episode. Wow. And as I go into the final arc, it just gets worse. Ham-fisted with zero focus and twists out of the bloody blue that make zero sense. You know… this series was hard to get into because characters were annoying and gross at the start. But then it added depth to each character and made me care about them as it went along. But everything after Eclipsa became queen has flushed all of that down the toilet as fast as possible and it is maddening to see that story-trust wasted. Nothing means anything in this story, that’s the conclusion I end up coming to. Nothing means anything and there is nobody worth caring about. I am radically disappointed. And kind of angry at the sheer number of levels at which the storytelling became terrible.

Games

Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle another controller-based game after getting so accustomed to Breath of the Wild (I’m on a second re-play of that, I play it whenever my brain is on the fritz so badly that I can’t do anything else). But it turned out to be pretty easy to get into. The hardest part is getting stuck about how to solve certain puzzles and trying to figure it out over and over. Sometimes I figure it out, but sometimes I need to look up a hint online. I’m almost at the end of the game and I’ve enjoyed it quite a bit. I want to play more Zelda games...

Katamari Re-Roll. This is so stupid. I mean, SO VERY STUPID. And so much fun. You start off as this tiny little person just rolling a ball around and you can pick up anything smaller than you (thumbtacks, coins, caramel candies) and as your ball gets bigger, your options open up (mice, carrots, eggs, crabs) and open up (shoes, toys, cats, dogs) and open up (humans, food carts, cows). I hear you get to roll up houses at some point. I’m looking forward to that. For now I’m at the level where I’m rolling up a lot of people. They’re all wiggly and shrieky. It’s funny. There’s a time limit on each level, and you have to reach a certain size by the time limit, which is the only really annoying thing about it. But I’m still having a lot of fun.

World of Warcraft: Classic. Of all the games I never thought I’d play, this is probably toward the top of the list. I don’t like the concept of grinding. I like story. But after playing Breath of the Wild, I also found out that I love exploration/open world type games. My husband helped me build a character and we ran around doing quests and levelling up. Now I’m a level 17 Dwarf hunter who does skinning and leatherworking. I have a pet wolf named Chompers. I’m having a lot of fun. Probably not obsessive levels of fun, but enough fun that I’m happy to sink a couple several-hour sessions a week into playing.

#Child loves books #child loves movies #child loves shows #n00b gamer child #recent media consumed

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madfatty · 4 years

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the finn nelson agenda - an mmfd fic #27

Long time, no see. I come bearing gift. Consider this my woefully inadequate attempt to distract you for a few moments from the shit-show that is now.

The plan is for this to be one of eight or nine stories about Finn falling for Rae, as told by the people who watched it happened. The collection is tentatively titled, ‘Why Are You So Blind?” and this one is from Finn’s POV.

What I’ve learned is that I can’t write it in the order that it ought to be read, so they’ll go up as they’re finished (if they’re finished). This is probably third or fourth from the end, so for the time being, we’ll pretend it’s a stand alone.

My thanks to the most lovely and much missed @bitchy-broken for planting the seed and my dearest @slitherouter for listening to me read it in many of it’s various forms and for the words that inspired both me and the title

.. my secret agenda is actually just to sit in your room and show you my favorite songs while you explain different things you have on your wall or your desk to me

Things Finn Nelson says

(a thing that Shiri said. I mean, *GAH* right. I love her SO much.)

Ta very much to @late-to-the-sexy-party for her thoughts and enthusiasm. Big love and thanks to the wondrous @endemictoearth for giving it a twice-over and the benefit of her talent and experience. She made it infinitely better. Thank you, my gorgeous.

And finally, thank you dear reader, for giving this a go.

the finn nelson agenda

It’s one of those lazy, late summer days he’d spent all term daydreaming about, slouched in the back corner of some classroom, tapping out bass lines on his desk or scribbling band names and song lyrics all over his binder. Staring out the window while elaborate fantasies built of music, football and girls, all vividly drawn, played out against the white noise of his reality. He feels the waste of it; counting down the seconds to the end of the hour, the end of the day, the end of school.

None of that matters now. There are still weeks left of the holidays and each day is filled with even more promise now that Rae’s around. Days like today. While there are thousands of elsewheres he imagines himself being between nine and three during term, today Rutlands will do just fine.

All his mates are here, there’s tunes and booze and a sense of time being stretched out and suspended in the liquid amber of the golden afternoon. It’s almost perfect. The only thing missing is the girl. And fingers crossed, she’ll be here soon too, because Finn’s beginning to realise things are just better when she’s there.

Where was she though? He’s been a twitching mess the whole time they’ve been here, checking his watch every few seconds, never registering the time, but still feeling the drag of it. Not toward the end of something now, but the start.

Ever since the party, he’s tried to find time every day to get her on own, but it isn’t easy. She’s quickly become the centre around which they all revolve, so competition for her attention is huge. This means he spends a lot of his time waiting to share hers. He prowls an invisible periphery, ever watchful for his chance. They don’t come up nearly as often as he’d like so he’s had to get creative.

Now, depending on how late he gets in from a long day of almost being together, there’s a new nightly ritual he follows; home, a quick shower and something to eat, then he makes a mug of tea and a cosy nest and dials her number with shaking hands. The last of his preparations is pressing ‘play’ on the carefully curated backing tracking for their conversation while he listens nervously for her to pick up.

Even then, he has to share her with her family. The sniping and the bickering between her and her mum, the deep warm tones of a hesitant male voice, a rumble in the background.

He can hear the life she complains about going on behind her, crowded and noisy and messy; the chaos and the lack of privacy, he can’t help feel how much he wants to be in the middle of it.

What he’d really like is to show up at her door with a bag full of music and a couple of sneaky cans of lager. He’d happily listen to her mum bitch about the ladies she works with at the hospital and watch football with Karim or help out with the birds if it means that eventually, they can escape upstairs to her room, because even though Finn’s only really been to her house the once, (if you didn’t count the apology), he likes it there. Finn’s got a secret wish; to sit in her room, sharing his favourite songs while she talks about her books, and her posters and all those weird little toy things that cover her desk. He wants to find out about all of it. To know everything about her.

However, despite his best -obvious, desperate - efforts, she hasn’t taken any of the heavy hints he’s dropped to ask him over again, so he’s going to invite her ‘round to his. He’s going to ask her today because he wants so badly for her to come and fill his house with her smile and her smell and her stories and yeah, to make some stories of their own.

He’d tried again, last night at the pub. Just as they were all getting ready to leave, with his heart in his mouth - ‘cause that’s always where it is when Rae’s around, when it’s not in his eyes or on his sleeve, - he’d stuttered out an offer to collect her this morning. His plan was to get there super early so they could just hang out on their own. He’d been prepared for her ‘no’ but it didn’t stop the curl of disappointment when she gave it.

Sometimes he worries that that night at hers didn’t mean as much to Rae as it did (hell, still DOES) to him, that it was just a random kindness, not the revelation that he’d felt, and to her he was just a guy having a bad night that she’d taken pity on. Other times, he believes she can feel this thread between them too. A delicate thing but he thinks it’s getting stronger, can feel it getting tighter somewhere around his ribs. No longer nothing, but not quite the something he’s hoping for.

Finn doesn’t want to test that thread, in case he tugs too hard and it snaps. He can’t help feeling that he needs to do something though, because it doesn’t matter what Archie says about it, there’s this niggle inside him that says all it would take would be for Archie to finally decide that he really did want her, and with the crook of his finger, Rae would come running.

He’s separated himself slightly from the others, coiled up tight in the shade of a nearby tree, his back to the bark, the pinch and bite of it through his t-shirt not enough to distract him from his vigil.

Cigarette butts lie in an untidy circle around his feet. His ears are straining past the drone of the radio and the fat buzzing noise of insects, tuning out the prattle of the others for the first sign of her. Her name caught up in the pulse behind his eyes. Everything is so loud inside his head.

He’s about to risk asking Izzy for a third time if she’s sure Rae knew exactly where they’d be when Rae appears. The anxiety of her absence is replaced with the relief of her proximity. The physical response is exactly the same. The next breath he takes is easier than the one before.

He doesn’t care what it looks like. It’s not enough to be near her anymore; he can’t bear any distance between them. It makes him brave. Or crazy.

Without consultation, his body moves with deliberate intent. He turns the music up, up, and reaches for another can, trying to fill his belly with something other than butterflies, hoping that his counterfeit swagger hides the jelly of his knees. Finn lets himself fall – continue to fall, he’s been falling for a week, pushed from a plane without a parachute – to land beside to her.

He must have lost his mind. It’s the only way to explain his behaviour. He’s got her pinned to the ground from shoulder to ankle like some sort of lunatic but that’s not the insane part. No, the insane part is his brain trying to convince him that if he doesn’t grab hold of her hand like he so desperately wants to, she won’t notice that he has her pinned to the ground from shoulder to ankle like some sort of lunatic. For fuck’s sake, it’s screaming, don’t hold her hand because then she’ll know. Like that’s where all his subtlety would disappear. He holds fast to his wrist, pinning the would-be offending hand to his chest; a single idiotic attempt at self-restraint.

It’s all he can do to lie here, outwardly calm while inside he’s vibrating so hard his teeth are rattling, his heart bouncing so fiercely off his ribs any minute now he’ll come loose from the ground. His tongue lies thick and useless in his mouth, dry despite the beer.

He hopes his deafening silence reads like casual confidence to her.

The weight of the sun and the heat from the ground beneath him, simultaneously seeps in and rises up to meet in the middle of him. Yet neither burns him like the length of her body under the press of his arm and the cage of his legs. A sheen of sweat covers his body, caught between his skin and his clothes. It tickles along his hairline, behind his ears and slides down the sides of his neck.

Everything inside the moment is sharp and highly defined. He can feel each breath that fills her lungs. Everything outside of a three foot radius blurs in his field of vision. It’s coming in waves, all at once and he doesn’t know which bits to savour, which bits to focus on and what to put away for later. He has to keep sneaking looks at her just to make sure this is really happening. Rae on the other hand, has her face turned skyward, barely acknowledging his presence, unmoved by the miracle that’s changing his life.

He’s filling up with her. His head, his heart, his bones. Every nerve is exposed. It’s all stinging nettles and ants itching under his skin.

He couldn’t have stood if you paid him. Dizzy from the blood roaring in his ears before it raced south.

She hasn’t pushed him away.

What would she do, if he just stopped thinking and did what his body was screaming out to do; if he rolled over and covered her body with his own. What would she say? If he gave in to the impulse and kissed those maddening pink lips, lush and full, and coaxed her sharp acid tongue into his own mouth, to taste the sweetness he’s seen her gift to others?

What she must feel like under the long cotton sleeves of her shirt, and what might that do to him; finally touching her skin. He’s never fantasised about forearms before, or calves or even feet. Her pale wrist under his thick fingers, or the crook of her elbow beneath his lips. The curve of her shoulder, the tip of her ear, the back of her knee. To see and touch and memorize. To know if his hands have guessed the way of her correctly.

Lying here, so close to everything he longs for, his thoughts slide inevitably to those most recently taken up residence in his brain, a divine carnal loop he indulges in almost hourly, the heavy press of her breasts against him, the torment of that smug mouth around his cock, the taste of her cunt, should he ever be blessed enough to be invited.

He has to stop that line of thought before his body gives him away. Before he can’t help himself anymore and he takes hold of her hand and places it on his hardening cock – do you see now? This is what being near you does to me. This is me, all the time, thinking about the back of your neck and the length of your leg and what sort of knickers you’re wearing or if you’re wearing any knickers at all. Look at me Rae, I’m trying to tell you that I … that I’m a mess about you. My head and my sheets and my record collection. The smell of green apple makes me hard, costs my dad a fortune at the green grocers. I can’t sleep, can’t leave myself alone, imagining your hand down my pants, your tongue in my mouth, the sounds that you’d make with my fingers inside you. I… I… Even in his own head he can’t say the word. Even he knows it’s too soon, but… Like is not enough, although he does like her. Desire is a stupid overused word, a song lyric that rhymes with ‘fire’. Want. He definitely wants her.

Can you see, Rae?

He can’t tell which one of them is trembling.

She still hasn’t pushed him away.

She’s quiet. He doesn’t like it as much when she’s quiet; it makes him nervous. Everything about her makes him nervous but at least when she’s talking, he has some idea of what she’s thinking and right now he needs to know what’s going on in her head. So he asks.

Her answer makes him laugh. It’s not exactly what he was hoping for until she laughs too. It’s treacle over his jangled nerves. They take the same breath and he feels her relax beneath him, which is when his brain detonates.

With the shittest timing in the world, Chop’s hissing Kendo’s name.

Kendo’s a mate of Chop’s older brother Robbie and a wannabe hard man. He’s also a prize dickhead but that doesn’t stop Chop trying too hard to look cool in front of him, although Finn can see he’s shitting himself in case Kendo makes him look like a twat. Right now, Finn thinks Chop’s doing okay on his own on that score.

Rae stiffens. She sits up and Finn can’t help but follow, caught up as he is in her gravitational pull. All the ease from a few seconds before is gone. Everything that’s said in the next two minutes sounds like it’s being spoken underwater because Finn can’t focus on anything but the distance she’s trying to put between them without physically moving.

The damage is done by the time Kendo finally slithers off, dragging the corpse of the mood he’s killed behind him.

Finn’s still up in his head about how he’s going to get Rae to lay back down with him or if that moment’s gone for good, so he’s not really listening when Chloe asks her question. He says ‘yeah, course’ two seconds before his brain catches up with his mouth and just as he’s trying to scramble back from his offer, Rae’s telling them she can’t go. The ground drops out from under him and his heart is flailing, doing a Wile E. Coyote over his gut.

Wait, wait, a minute ago we were on our way to perfect. Fucking Chop. Fucking Kendo. Fucking fuck.

He’s reeling but before he can find a way to get them back to where they were, a shadow falls over them and Chloe’s voice, brittle and insistent.

“Rae, can I speak with you? Privately.”

Fucking Chloe.

For a moment hope soars because he can feel Rae’s reluctance to move but it’s only for a moment; she’s pulling away now and she’s taking all the warm and the hope with her. He sits there among the shattered bits of the beautiful bubble they’d been floating in, with his unasked question filling up his throat and his eyes closed because he can’t stand to watch her walk away.

#madfatty spouts off #mmfd fanfic #the finn nelson agenda #a part of the 'why are you so blind?' collection #if and when it eventuates #i made this #27 #i'll fix any fuckups tomorrow #now i gotta sleep

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nsheetee · 5 years

Text

My Only Star

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader Genre: Soulmate AU || Fluff, a dash of Angst Length: 2k Summary: You and Doyoung are linked by Fate’s red string in the most unique way: you can communicate through music before you meet each other for the first time. When you decide to date Kun, a long time friend who helps you get experience in the dating world, Doyoung becomes jealous decides it’s time to finally meet you in person.

a/n: the italicized quotes are from @doietonic ‘s poem “The Only Star.” Credit for the poem goes to them (thank you for letting me use it :’) )

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“At first, I wasn’t so sure whether you’re a sickness or a cure but as time passes by, you were neither- but a star in the sky.”

When you first heard music in your head, you were absolutely frightened. You poked your head up and searched for the source, but when no source could be found you quickly ran to your mother in the next room, straight into her open arms and nuzzled into her warmth, screaming to make the invisible music stop. After you were calmed down and explained the new phenomenon, you could have sworn you were cursed.

It took you months to get used to the new voice in your head, one that you could not control. It felt like a part of your brain was not your own, an unsettling feeling to have to get used to, but something that was forced upon you without choice. You certainly cursed at Fate for the years to come, before you understood how much of a blessing your soulmate tell really was.

Music became more than background noise for you, or something used to calm you down when things got rough; it was now a tool to communicate with your soulmate. If you directly sang, your voices could be heard as clear as day in each other’s head; or if there was enough music playing in the background, you could pick up conversations the other person was having with others around them.

Once you and your soulmate learned the ins and outs of your tell, you started to talk to each other through simple and quiet melodies. You had nightly singing sessions with your soulmate; you sung out of your window and to the moon in hopes of not waking up the rest of the people who were sleeping in your home. The conversations were not deep or lengthy, awkwardness keeping certain details from being shared, but the connection between the two of you could be felt deep in both of your hearts.

Your soulmate’s name is Doyoung; his voice reminded you of spun silk and steamed milk and everything that is nice to the senses. Even at a young age, Doyoung had an amazing talent of singing and it only improved as he grew up, you had the pleasure of experiencing this talent bloom first hand. His voice became your new music: it calms you down on the nights that you could not sleep due to anxiety, stress, or just a bad case of the toss-and-turns. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only person who would listen to you and your troubles.

You got to know him through his absentminded singing while he was working or doing homework, while he was cleaning his house to the point of it being spotless, and while he was relaxing with a cup of tea on his balcony. It felt backwards to you: knowing someone through their personality first rather than through the basic facts like what they did for a living, what their favorite color was, and what they looked like.

Doyoung got to know your persistence and hard-working nature when he would hear you practice the piano almost every single night. Some practice sessions ended in success, but some ended in distress; Doyoung admired how you would always get back behind the piano the next day and work out the problems. Sometimes, when you added your voice to your playing, Doyoung would stop whatever he was doing and just listen. He wondered how you looked when you played the piano and sang. Did you close your eyes? Did you tilt your head in an attempt to get some tricky notes out? He so badly wanted to know- to see with his own eyes.

If only Doyoung had spoken out about wanting to see you in person, maybe things could have been different. You and Doyoung never actually knew how physically close you were to each other; how many times you had walked passed each other on the streets, or stood in line behind each other at the bookstore, or rode the same bus at the same time. Since the location of your residence was not something either of you brought up (either being too shy to bring it up first, or maybe scared of what reality this new information could bring,) the fake distance you created between each other made you become each other's star in the sky: unreachable, but not a feature to be overlooked.

“I didn’t realize that you were there, I’ve always thought that some stars were rare. So, I loved the moon even if it was hard to reach.”

When you got a boyfriend, Doyoung became confused. Here was his literal soulmate, the person made for him, being intimate with someone else. It made him want to rip out the part of his head that was made specially for you, maybe then he could stop hearing your cheerful laughter towards someone who wasn’t him. Doyoung knew in the end it would be him that you would end up with, but he couldn’t help getting a bit insecure.

Kun was an amazing person, of course you would date him. He was funny, caring, and a long time friend. Although he has his own soulmate and you have yours, you both decided to create this arrangement for the purpose of getting experience in the dating world before meeting your soulmates in person. It was honestly relaxing to be able to go through things like your first date with Kun- he made it light-hearted and you felt more experienced coming out of it.

When you discussed this arrangement with Doyoung, he was now not only confused but slightly territorial, especially when you started talking about Kun during your nightly chats with the moon. You would sing about how you did this and that with Kun, how Kun made this amazing pasta a few days ago, how Kun got your favorite flowers for you, Kun this, Kun that, Kun. Doyoung was sure you didn’t mean to rub the relationship in his nose; he couldn’t help but feel isolated and forgotten. He is your soulmate, you are his. He didn’t care how experienced or inexperienced you were when you met him, he just wanted you in his life and he wanted Kun out of it.

“Then a star like you came and fell and as if you had this spell- a spell which made me realize things- things that I did not know only you could bring.”

The warm grass tickled your toes as you sat bare-foot on a blanket in the park; like a sunflower, your head tilted up to the sun and caught it’s rays as they shone down. The band currently on the make-shift stage in front of you was sending beautiful music towards your direction, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and absolutely fall in love with the moment. It took you awhile to realize that the same music in front of you was repeating in your head, but your eyes popped open in shock when you did. You turned your head around, looking at the other concert-goers for anyone who looked like your soulmate, which you thought would be impossible since you’ve never seen him before.

And yet, when your eyes met with a pair of dark, raven-like ones for the first time, you knew. This is Doyoung. You had no idea what to expect, but he exceeded anything you could ever think of. Your feet picked you off of the grass and you made your way to where he was standing on the concrete behind the rest of the audience. When you reached him, your throat felt narrow from the nerves in your stomach.

“D-Doyoung?” You asked timidly, sending a small, empty prayer that this was him.

“Y/N.” He answered, and you sighed at how much his live voice sounded like the one that you are so used to hearing in your head.

“You opened my heart to something new, and that was about loving you. You are the star that can connect with me just like the constellations being looked at by the sea. You’ll always be my only star.”

Getting to know Doyoung in real life was different than getting to know him through your soulmate tell. Maybe it was something about the added senses of touch and sight that made him feel more real. Being with Doyoung was different than being with Kun; with Kun you had to try and find the things you liked about him, but with Doyoung, the things you fell in love with came to you.

Like when you shared your first kiss on the doorstep of your home one night, and Doyoung couldn’t look at you before he did it. You gently took hold of his jaw, turned him to you, and then leaned forward. You didn’t feel like each other’s star in the sky, you felt like you were finally connected, finally together. Lips meshing together and warmth seeping between both of you. You shamelessly wondered if Fate took her time in making sure you and Doyoung were absolutely perfect for each other.

Or once you and Doyoung moved in together, you found out how he had to drink coffee in the morning to function and it doesn’t matter who you are, you don’t talk to him until he’s had his coffee. The first morning spent with Doyoung felt more like a nightmare, you couldn’t figure out what you did wrong to make him glare at you the way he did. When you learned about his addiction to the heavenly bitter caffeine, you wanted to show a small act of compromise. You started bringing Doyoung his coffee in bed with a kiss on his messy bed hair and a delicate “good morning” to stir him out of his sleep. The mornings he wakes up to the smell of coffee just the way he likes it and your body next to his were some of the greatest mornings of his life.

Or how he would sing in the shower, his voice echoing off the tile walls to reach your ears in the bedroom. His singing skills seemed to only improve as time went on, and the acoustics in the bathroom made you lean your ear against the door, trying to block out the echo of his song in your head. You liked hearing Doyoung’s authentic voice nowadays rather than the copy that was in your head. One day, when you convince Doyoung to let you join him in the shower, he coyly sings melodies into your wet, bare shoulder and laughs through the lyrics as you massaged the shampoo through his hair. Yes, hearing Doyoung’s voice live was one of your new favorite simplicities in life.

Or when you try to fall asleep but something in your head just isn’t letting you, Doyoung wraps you tightly in his hold and hums you into a blissful sleep. Although it’s an amazing feeling to fall asleep to, it’s even better when you wake up to him still beside you, tracing patterns on the skin of your waist and pushing the hair out of your eyes. No words shared, barely-awake glaces at one another that Doyoung forgets as he falls back asleep, but you wouldn’t give up these moments for the whole world.

It was ridiculously easy to forget about everyone and everything with Doyoung around, he lifted you up and secured you down. He was a trusted ally and a place you could go when you felt like everyone else was against you. He is your soulmate, and loving him is as easy as loving the stars if they were all in the palm of your hand. As for Doyoung- he got what he wanted: to be the only one that mattered to you, and to have the simplicity of hearing you in real life, next to him, was enough. For once being each other’s unreachable star, it was pleasantly sweet to now be each other’s only star.

#doyoung #nct fluff #doyoung fluff #doyoung drabbles #nct x reader #nct soft hours #nct doyoung #nct drabbles #nct au #doyoung scenarios #doyoung au #doyoung x reader #doyoung soft hours #soulmate au #nct angst

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