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am-i-interrupting · 2 months

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A Broadcast For Bitch Breakfast | Vox

Summary: It’s the anniversary of Alastor going missing. Upset he left without a word, left you to deal with his shit, and maybe a bit worried that he may actually be gone, it doesn’t take much for Vox to convince you to go back to his place. Perhaps a bad decision but Husk is right, it’ll make an excellent story for (what he calls) your bitch breakfast with Rosie tomorrow.

Warnings: 18+, implied cannibalism, drinking, choking, oral, P in V

You didn’t want to get out of bed. Your body felt sluggish. Your head was aching. Moving a single finger felt like moving a ton of bricks. You hadn’t even lifted up your blanket and you already wanted the day to be over.

You groaned, nuzzling your face into the pillow. You hadn’t managed to get much sleep at all. Not exactly an uncommon experience for a denizen of hell but normally you could get more than an hour of sleep.

However, today was an anniversary and you knew it. You wished you didn’t. Then maybe this wouldn’t happen every year. Perhaps the third time was the charm, and next year you could get some sleep this night. It seemed doubtful though.

With slow movements, you got up. You switched on your radio, set only to one channel, as you picked out your clothes for the day. Radio silence filled the air and feeling petty, you grabbed a mock flapper dress.

You bought it years ago as a joke, just to piss Alastor off. With the reverse now happening, it seemed like the perfect time to bring it out again.

The dress was a fitted number in your most flattering color. It was off the shoulder with tassels hanging from the top and bottom, brushing against your arms and legs. The real kicker (or at least the thing that caused Alastor’s eyes to narrow and his smile to tighten) was on either side of your waist there were cut outs, showcasing skin. In fact, the whole dress showcased things that a true flapper dress would hide instead of showcase. The only thing that made it even resemble a flapper dress slightly was the beading and tassels.

Regardless, you did your makeup and hair true to fashion for the 1920s but put on some heels that were too tall and too clunky to be accurate.

Ready for the day, you walked out the door.

You passed by sinners and imps alike. None up to anything good, you were sure. Not once were you bothered but you couldn’t help but think how it wasn’t like it used to be.

Every morning for nearly as long as you’d been in hell, Alastor would wait outside your door for you to walk out or you’d invite him in, asking for his opinion on things as you got ready. Then he’d escort you to Cannibal Town for breakfast with Rosie. That stopped two years ago when Alastor disappeared.

Still, you found yourself missing the effect he had on other people. Back then people darted off as soon as they saw him. Now people looked at you and either didn’t know who you were or gave you a slightly weirder berth if they did.

At least in Cannibal Town, people still acted the same. They all smiled. They greeted you with an occasional small bow of the head, one shook your hand then turned it to place a kiss on it.

Cannibal Town remained more or less the same. It was a nice consistency.

“Oh, there you are, dear!” Rosie said, spinning around to face you with a plate in hand, tea cups and a kettle sitting atop it. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming today. Glad to see I was wrong. Come, come, sit. I was just about to grab some snacks. I’ll be right back with it.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” you said as she disappeared.

“Of course, dear, of course. Can’t let you go hungry, can I?”

She came back with a thigh in hand. She placed it in the center of the table and sat herself down. A still steaming cup of tea was brought to her lips. She sighed with a now content smile on her face. She looked you over carefully and that smile turned amused.

“Still no broadcast?” she asked with a nod to your outfit.

“Oh, no. I know he’ll make himself known when he wants to but still,” you said.

Rosie nodded in agreement. “For a man who prides himself on taking such good care of his ladies, he sure does keep us worrying.”

The rest of breakfast was filled with a combination of silence and gossip. It seemed like mere seconds had passed and it was suddenly time for Rosie to open.

“Are you going to check on Alastor’s souls?” Rosie asked as she made sure some things were in place.

“I do it weekly,” you reminded her. “At least with Nifty and Husk.”

“Okay, well, you have a good day, hon.”

“You too, Rosie.”

“Oh!” She caught your arm before you could leave. “I’ve heard talk of some kid trying to be the next up and coming overlord. He’s been getting a bit close to Alastor’s territory. He’s not any kind of real threat but if you wanted to blow off some steam and show him who’s boss. . .”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You did listen to Rosie. You found him easily and he truly wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, even as someone who wasn’t an overlord.

The past two years had been a prime time to grow your power and influence with the absence of Alastor. Not that he’d been holding you back. No, he’d encourage you actually but you never had any reason to, nothing to fight for. With the absence of Alastor less souls went to him for deals and with you taking responsibility for keeping his territory from falling to others found you instead.

You could do a stand in, sure. A couple souls here and there was no problem but you weren’t completely comfortable with the idea of being a full blown overlord yet. You’d take care of his people’s problems when they came to you (and the few you’d taken a liking to even when they didn’t). You’d go to meetings in his place. However, the responsibility was not nothing and it kept you busy even on the lazy days.

You found Nifty and listened to her chat your ear off about a story idea she had as she darted around cleaning. You mentioned off handedly that you could use some help cleaning up your own place since you’d rarely had the time and her smile gave you one of your own.

When night came, you went to the bar you knew Husk frequented. You found him at a table with others, drinking and gambling like you were sure you would.

You sent him a small wave but didn’t speak. Instead you ordered yourself a drink and started casually chatting and moving around, keeping his table in your general vicinity and the cards of others in your eye line. Round after round he won with a combination of his own cheating being aided by yours.

Sat on a stool with a drink in your hand, your attention had been on the truly shitty hand the lamb demon had until the sound of the door opening and a familiar voice hit you. Your head snapped.

Vox waltzed in with a phone by his head and a grimace on his face.

You hadn’t talked to Vox much unless strictly necessary. The only time you actively seemed him out was actually on this very day two years ago. You’d marched onto his office, grabbed him by the lapels of his suit (that he wasn’t wearing right now, odd) and yelled at him demanding to know where Alastor was.

Needless to say the two of you hadn’t had many conversations before that and after? Well, you only spoke to fire back against his points at overlord meetings, spurred on by Rosie beside you who would never say anything but wear a grin and the thought that Alastor would get a kick out of Vox being knocked down several pegs.

You’d just finished your first glass of the night, not going out with the intention of being wasted (you couldn’t help Husk cheat if you were), when Vox sat down right beside you.

“Get me a rye,” Vox said to the bar tender.

You pushed your glass using two fingers. “Make that two, would you?”

Vox glanced at you and then did a double take. “Well, well, if it isn’t Alastor’s little helper?”

“Better than being his fan club,” you retorted.

Vox’s screen did the smallest glitch, just a bit of static electricity coming into the air. He played it off with a scoff of a laugh.

Oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Instead he simply held his whisky glass in his hand. The liquid inside swished as his hand moved.

You took a sip of your own rye. A fan of it or not, it brought back those memories. You leaned back in your seat. Your glass clanked as you say it down with a bit more force than necessary.

“Rye’s Alastor’s favorite,” you said suddenly.

“I know.” You turned to look at him with a curious countenance. “Alastor and I have a long, complicated history.”

“Really now? I would have never guessed,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words.

There was silence for a moment and then, “Did he really never talk about me?”

You were feeling nostalgic, you already knew. Despite the resentment, despite the anger you knew was there, you couldn’t help but indulge him. The alcohol having softened the shell that was those feelings to reveal the truth that you really just missed him.

“Oh, he talked about you. Muttering under his breath about you ever time he saw you but he’s a secretive man. He’ll talk about everything except himself,” you answered.

Vox hummed to himself. “What about you?”

“What exactly about me, Mister Vox?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

“Would you say you’re the same or do your similarities with Alastor start and end with appearance?”

“What’s it to you? Looking for a new nemesis?”

“A man can dream.”

It was your turn to scoff. You turned your head away from Vox only to be met with Husk’s attention half on you and half on the game he was playing. He raised a brow at you, his claws drumming against the wooden table. You glanced down at the cards in his hand. You could see a small exhale leave his body before he did the same.

“You know, I always have wondered—“ you hadn’t even turned around to face Vox when you felt a hand on your ear— “what these felt like.”

Your back went rigid. No one had ever touched your ears save for Rosie and Nifty. Rosie when she felt like doing your hair and Nifty through scrambling up your body like you were her personal jungle gym.

“Vox, what are you—“

Your vocal cords betrayed you as you sighed and leaned back as Vox’s thumb carefully circled the little bit of downy fur at the base of your ears.

“A bit more coarse than I imagined but still pleasant,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up,” you managed to growl out even as you leaned into his touch more.

“Do you want me to stop?” You said nothing. “That’s what I thought.” You wanted to slap him. “The ears, the tail, the demand for attention, the way power suits you. Oh, how very much like Alastor you are.”

You felt the haze of pleasantness lift from you as Husk looked up at you again and he visibly was taken aback. You snapped around and managed to grasp Vox’s hand before it fell back to the countertop.

“You say that like it’s a compliment.”

“Perhaps in a way it is,” Vox said. “There’s a lot of things to admire about Alastor but the difference between you and him is that he wouldn’t let me fuck him.”

You almost got up and left then and there. You rolled your eyes and dropped his wrist. You went to grab your drink, planning on downing it and walking out, when Vox swapped roles with you.

His hand now wrapped around your gradient wrist. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll leave right now.”

You should have. It should have been so easy to say those two simple words of ‘you’re wrong.’ Instead you found yourself saying, “Your death wish a bit more prominent today.”

“Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic. I know you are. Otherwise there’s no doubt in my mind you would have thrown me through the wall. You can do it.”

You could. He knew that. Two years ago you hadn’t just yelled at Vox. You had grabbed him by his suit lapels and demanded the whereabouts of Alastor. After his initial confusion came some form of both glee and oddly rage. He’d yelled about how he was glad Alastor was gone but he should have been the one to kill him. Even then, even without the souls chained to you or the land to protect, you’d summoned some deep seated power within you and used it to throw him through the walls where he fell out of the building.

He knew you could do it and you did too. You should have. You honestly should have but there were a lot of things you should have done but didn’t. You were in hell for a reason and maybe part of that was your unwillingness to leave something unfinished.

“You haven’t said I’m wrong.”

He glanced down at his hand. His grip was loose. It should have never stopped you and yet it had.

You jerked your hand away and downed your glass. You slammed it on the table and turned your back to him as you began to walk towards the door.

Behind you, you heard Vox’s drink be picked up and then much more softly be put down followed by his footsteps.

Your arm was gripped again but instead of a light ghost of a touch, it was one you recognized. Husk’s paw was around your upper arm.

He took off his hat. It was used to block off the view of his mouth as he leaned close to your ear and whispered, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

Husk looked at Vox, almost a glare but not there yet. Then he sighed, “Don’t do something you’re gonna regret just because you know it’ll piss Alastor off.”

“I’m not an idiot, Husk.”

He flipped his hat around and placed it back on his head. He went back to his gambling buddies, grumbling something about a story, bitch breakfast, and Rosie.

Vox shoved you against the wall. You knew you should feel pain in your head and shoulders but this was Hell. You were used to it by now and Vox’s kiss was so much more interesting.

His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth and all you could feel was small electrical shocks. Not painful but buzzing. Almost like kissing pop rocks but with static.

One of his hands was cupping your jaw. The other was at your waist. His bare fingers touching your skin in both places.

Vox was full of new, interesting sensations. From the kiss and now just to his skin texture. You’d never touched him before, just his clothes. His skin was smooth and cold, like glass. However, only his claws had that hardness.

You pulled back. “How do I get this off?” you asked.

One hand was tugging at the collar of his turtleneck. You used the other to push off the black wool jacket he was wearing. Truly a shame to see it go.

He looked so much better in it than his suit or perhaps it was the fact that it was different. Either way, it gave him a 1950s feel even if all the clothes he wore were modern. For a man so insistent on being the future, he did hold onto at least some things from the past.

Vox sighed and moved your hand to the back of his neck where you found zipper. You couldn’t help but smile at the discovery.

“I can’t help but ask, do you need help putting on shirts that aren’t button ups or. . .?” you let your voice trail off teasingly.

“Shut up,” Vox said as he shrugged out of the shirt.

He then immediately placed his hands back on you. Your hair bunched up between his fingers as he drew you in for another kiss.

You felt his chest. Much like his hands, cold and smooth but not hard. You squeezed his shoulders and felt so much tension there. He moaned, fingers twitching.

He hooked his arm under your legs and swooped you up. Your ankles locked behind his back.

He rolled his hips. His hardness pressed against you. It was your turn to moan. You felt heat bubbling up inside you and your tail wiggle in excitement.

Apparently Vox felt it too as he pulled back. He adjusted you in his hold and began walking you to a room (his room you presumed). You were dropped on a bed.

Vox pushed up your dress and pulled on your tail. “Aren’t you just adorable?”

You glared up at him. In retaliation, you decided to pull him down onto the bed and flip your positions.

You leaned in, filling his space with your presence. You hands traveled from his shoulders to his navel and then back upwards. Your fingers lightly brushed against his throat.

“It’d be so easy to choke you,” you said, voice low and barely above a whisper.

“Then do it.”

Your fingers tightened around his neck. The smirk fell off his face and was replaced with a closed eyed, opened mouth expression. The muscles in his throat squirmed beneath your hold. You let up a bit.

Vox now looked up at you, hazy eyed.

You rolled your hips down against him. His breath hitched. His fingers pressed against the skin of your thighs. He pulled you down, held you in place.

His claw hooked your underwear. “Get these off.”

“Let me go.”

Vox did not let you go. Instead he pulled you down against his chest (which was now warmer than it had been mere minutes ago) and kissed you hard. He used this new position to slip your underwear down but as soon as they were off, you broke the kiss.

He looked ready to complain but a pressure on his throat and he was silent. You placed open mouthed kisses on his shoulders, down to his chest. You took a moment to lick his nipples as your undid the button of his pants. His back arch made you file away that information while you continued down his torso.

You slowly began to pull down his pants and underwear.

“For fuck’s sake hurry up,” he growled.

You paused for a moment. Then in two quick moment’s you pulled his clothes off and bit down on his hip. Vox gave a small shout as you licked at the now bleeding spot.

It wasn’t bad. There was barely enough blood to cause any space to start beading up. Though, there were definitely popped blood vessels beneath his skin.

“Ooooh,” Vox chuckled, “you little bitch.”

“No, not a bitch,” you said. “The proper term is doe.”

“I’d say you’re anything but.”

“Oh, really?”

You gave him your best doe eyes as you pressed your face against his hard cock. You hadn’t even truly looked at it but against your face you could tell it’s as long and slender. You mouthed against the base, not looking away from him.

“Oh, fu-uck,” his voice glitched.

You licked up and then deep throated him. You held your position for a moment. Then two. The small, cut off noises were too enjoyable to listen to. The unfiltered groan of frustration when he tried to buck into your mouth only for you to stop him was too entertaining.

You sat up. Your hand wrapped around him and pumped him. A blue tip peaked between your pointer finger and thumb.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him. He wasn’t the thickest or biggest you’ve ever had but he was certainly the longer. You could barely get him in all the way when you felt him bump against your ending. That pressure though, felt so good, so warm, like he was meant to be there.

You lifted yourself up and then down on repeat. With each thrust you let yourself fall with less and less caution. It would hurt if it didn’t feel so pleasurable. This was scratching an itch.

Vox sat up. His hands going to the tassels of your dress. They bunched up in his hands as he pulled the garment off of your body. He threw it across the room.

“You are so fucking—“ he groaned—“You drive me mad, did you know that?“

You didn’t answer because his hands cupped your breasts, so much hotter than they’d previously been. He licked at your neck and sucked on the skin of your shoulders, returning the favor you’d done for him earlier. He rolled your nipple between his fingers. His claws nipped slightly at your skin, providing another pressure that was simply there.

“I’m close. Fuck!” you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole building heard him with how loud he was yelling.

A whirlwind sound began in the room as (what you would later realize was) Vox’s fans kicked on. His hands (so hot you felt like you’d burn) squeezed your breasts as he gave a harsh thrust into you. You couldn’t help a noise of slight pain escape you while he groaned, voice and face glitching with pleasure.

You felt him twitch inside you. You could feel the warmth of his release filling you. You rolled your hips against the feeling. He surprised you by rolling back.

He released his hold on you, still lazily thrusting in you. His fingers reappeared against your clit. He rubbed it several times before they started vibrating.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, moaning his name. A lazy but confident smile covered his face.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

You whimpered and nodded.

He tugged on your tail. “Words.”

“Yes, mmm, perfect,” you said, words slurred.

His smile turned into a smirk. “Come for me.”

Now that he’s said it, you didn’t want to but you couldn’t help it. With his dick still in you, moving and spreading his cum causing it to drip out of you, his fingers against your clit vibrating, and now his voice demanding it, you were helpless.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

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chrisevansjellybeans · 3 years

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Ransom x fem!Reader

Warnings: none (yet) some swearing

Part One

You’ve never wanted to punch somebody in the face so bad until you met Ransom Drysdale. The smug, arrogant, jerk-face had been a thorn in your side since grade school. You both grew up in the Boston area, your parents sending you to the same private schools all the way through high school. You had run in similar crowds but no matter how much your mutual friends tried to get the two of you to get along you never could. For good reason though.

Your family owned and operated Cloak and Dagger Publishing, the direct rival of Ransom’s family’s publishing house, Blood Like Wine. Unlike you and Ransom, your families liked to keep the rivalry in business and not in life. Your father, Jackson Y/L/N and Harlan Thrombey were actually great friends who just liked to rib each other when it came to business, but were proud of the other’s success regardless.

But for some reason you and Ransom could never get to that level of friendship. And you weren’t in any rush to fix that.

Especially when he was pulling shit like this.

You groaned as you opened the door to your office only to see the smirking son of a bitch sitting in your chair, feet propped up on the desk and your favorite fountain pen twirling between his fingers.

“Maria, you’re fired.” You joked to your assistant who nervously looked at you from her desk right outside your door.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N! He just-”

“It’s fine. I know.” You sighed before walking fully into your office, letting the door close behind you.

“Good morning, honey.” Ransom’s voice was sickly sweet.

“Is it?” You snapped. You walked around your desk and pushed his feet off. “Get up.”

“You’re not being very kind to your guest, Y/N. What would dear daddy say about your terrible manners?” Ransom teased but stood up nonetheless. You glared up at him as he stood to his full height.

“Guests are usually wanted and invited, Ransom. Neither of which you are.”

“Honey, you hurt me.” Ransom feigned pain as he gripped his chest. You wanted to stomp your expensive Manolo Blahniks on his toes every time he called you that. It started your junior year of high school and maybe if it was anyone else you would have thought it was a term of endearment but he said it in such a condescending tone you knew it was anything but.

“What do you want, Drysdale?” You let out an exasperated breath.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to visit an old friend?”

“Ransom, please. Unlike some people I actually have work to do.” You moved around him and sat down, pulling out your laptop. You looked up at him as he watched you with intense blue eyes that made your stomach flutter, annoyingly so.

“I’m actually here for business and not pleasure, honey.” He smirked as he sat down at the chair across from you. “I’m here to formally and personally invite you to Bleeding Hearts.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Bleeding Hearts was the Thrombey annual charity gala that they hosted at Harlan’s expansive, hidden mansion. Your parents had been going every year since Harlan first hosted it and you had started going about five years ago. You would never tell Ransom, but you loved Bleeding Hearts. It gave you an excuse to wear a beautiful ball gown-albeit rented-and to feel like a beautiful princess like the ones you had read about growing up. Harlan always hired a full orchestra to play the most beautiful classical pieces throughout the night and it was like stepping into a time machine. You didn’t understand why Ransom had to come all the way down to your office just to invite you to something that you were already going to.

“I’ve already had Maria send in my RSVP and donation, Ransom. So thank you for the courtesy, but it really wasn’t needed.” You rubbed at your temples, a tension headache now forming from all this ‘excitement’ so early in the morning. And before you’ve even had a sip of your coffee.

“I know. And you gave a nice amount this year. Did daddy finally up your monthly allowance?” He smirked.

Just one punch. Just one and then I’ll be satisfied. Technically he’s trespassing, it could be called self defense.

“Goodbye, Ransom.” You blocked him out as you opened your email and began typing away. You got about two sentences out before you felt your laptop being shut against your hands.

“I wasn’t done.” Ransom whispered, you didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up. He was now leaning over your desk, one hand on your laptop and one hand on the edge of the desk closest to you.

“Shame.”

“I’m here to ask if you wanted to come...as my date.” You snorted out a laugh and laughed even harder as a look of annoyance crossed over his face. He stood up and straightened out his shirt almost nervously.

“God, you’re funny. Now please leave. You’ve already wasted so much of my time with this little joke.” You rolled your eyes as you opened your laptop again.

“I wasn’t kidding, Y/N.” His words were sharp and his eyes blazing.

“Neither was I. Get out of my office, Ransom. Or I will call security.” You glared right back at him.

Ransom looked like he was about to say something but decided against it. He tapped his fingers against your desk and gave you a mock salute.

“See ya around, honey.”

“Close the door on your way out.” You muttered.

You clenched your fists as he left your office, leaving your door wide open. You could hear him laughing his ass all the way down the hall.

Damn you, Ransom Drysdale.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. He just kind of walked in.” Maria rushed into your office, almost tripping over her far too high heels.

“Ria, it’s fine. I know how he is.” You waved her off, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” she said nervously. When you gave her another reassuring smile she relaxed her shoulders. “I have to say though, he is really sexy.”

“Maria.” You sighed. “Get out.”

“Sorry.” She squeaked before exiting your office, closing the door fully.

You leaned back in your chair and let out a long breath. How had today already been the longest day and it wasn’t even nine?

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”

“Good afternoon, dad.” You smiled as your father snuck his way into your office.

You and your dad had always been close. When you were younger he called you his “little shadow” because you loved to follow him around throughout his day. You would sit in on meetings and you loved when he would let you pretend to lead the team briefings in the morning. It was only natural that you would follow in his footsteps and work for Cloak and Dagger.

Your father always pushed you to be your best. He didn’t let you take shortcuts to get where you were today in the company. You worked your way up and proved your worth and made your father proud.

“What’s this I hear of Ransom Drysdale stopping in this morning?” He sat down across from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because he doesn’t have anything better to do than irritate me.”

Your father laughed as he slid in his glasses up to the top of his head and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two have been fighting like cats and dogs since you were kids. Will this feud between the two of you ever end? And can it be soon? I made a bet with Harlan that you two would finally stop by the time you were twenty-five.”

“Glad to see that my torture has been amusement for you and your little buddy.”

“Just teasing, sugar plum.”

“Please, let’s talk about anything else besides Ransom Drysdale. I’m begging you.” You gave him a warning look over the top of your computer.

“Fine by me.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward. “How’s it going with Brooke Archer? Has she committed to C&D yet?”

Brooke Archer was an upcoming mystery novelist. Critics called her “the Agatha Cristie of our time” and rightfully so. You had read her first two novels and finished them within a day, completely entranced by her style of writing that had you guessing till the end. She was notoriously self-publishing but now that her books were blowing up she had finally made the decision to sign with a major publishing house. And your father had tasked you with landing her.

“I have a lunch meeting with her tomorrow. I think this could be the closing meeting.” You said confidently.

“Good. I’m proud of you, sugar plum.” He tapped his fingers on your desk. “And please text your mother back. She’s freaking out over what to make for dinner tonight.”

Confused, you pulled your phone out of your bag. You sighed when you saw that you had thirteen missed texts from your lovable but definitely eccentric mother.

“You’d think she’d know what I like by now.” You joked.

“What can I say, she’s a perfectionist.” You dad laughed before saying goodbye and exiting your office.

As you were typing out a response your phone dinged with a new message.

I hope you’re thinking about my proposal from earlier. Wasn’t kidding around this time honey.

Your thumbs hovered over the screen. How the hell had Ransom even gotten your number?

And like I said earlier, neither was I. The answer is no.

He responded only seconds later:

No ugly colors, don’t want to clash with my suit.

You had to give it to him, the man had tenacity.

You’re annoying.

Ransom only responded with a winky face. You shook your head as you exited his chat and went back to responding to your mother, barely noticing the smile that was covering your face thinking of that annoyingly handsome pain in your ass.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #daddy ransom #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans smut #poison and wine

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uhgoodmoni · 3 years

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I’ll Sleep on the Floor | JJK

Summary: Eunjae (oc) and Jungkook aren’t really friends. Like, at all. Actually Eunjae hates Jungkook’s guts. The real issue is that they both are best friends with Seokjin, who wishes that they would just get over their seemingly petty hatred for one another. So to try and solve that Jin invites them to a trip in Greece. Should be fun in paradise? But paradise turns to disaster when a flight gets delayed... they need a hotel and... There’s only ONE bed??

Warnings: Angst cause I always have angst, some fluff ig, idk this ones pretty chill tbh, implied anxiety

(14,286 words)

Ao3 | Wattpad

With my suitcase trailing behind me, wheels scoring the tiles, I walk towards my gate. The first flight was easy up until the end. I napped restfully the entire time but as we came to Tbilisi International Airport in Georgia, the captain had announced that the descent would have rough turbulence because of the storm that was starting. Rough turbulence indeed, a few storage bins had opened up, allowing passengers belongings to fall to the cabin floor. My items were safe, luckily, but the woman seated in front of me had gotten a book to the face. We landed safely and that really was the only thing to be concerned about. Thunder echoed throughout the airport, the flash of lightning shining through the windows. This was bad, very bad. The second flight I would take, Tbilisi air to Athens air. Would it get delayed? I pray not as I walked towards the gate.

Seokjin and I had planned the trip to the T, the next departure an hour and a half after the time we’d land in Tbilisi. A shame we even had to have a layover but our last minute planning had cursed us with that.

I feel like calling Jin now that I have service. Or wifi anyway. So I pull out my phone as I continue my stroll. The airport here is not as busy as Incheon, but still bustling with more people than expected at 8pm.

“Did you make it?” I smile at Jin’s voice coming through the speaker of my phone, only seventy percent. I should charge it before the next flight.

“No, the plane crashed in a fiery accident and I’m calling from my deathbed.” I glance around, looking for a map, or a guide or something that would tell me if I was headed in the right direction.

“Ah, good to know. The beach is waiting here for you. The sun is setting now.”

I look out the window, “I’ve got bad news.”

“What?” He asks, his voice changing to worry after hearing the change in my own tone. “Has Jungkook’s flight not landed yet?”

I shake my head, “No, no. I don’t know where he is. I haven’t even got to my gate yet.” Looking for Jungkook? As if I could care if his plane landed or not. Hopefully it hasn’t and I can fly the final stretch to Greece alone. “There's a storm, it's thundering and I’m not sure if it is going to stick around or not. I haven't checked if our flight is on time.”

He hums, “Well figure it out and let me know.” I nod, seeing the flight list a little further down, just small enough in my vision not to see it yet. Jin stays on the line as I walk.

I glare up at the lit up sign. “Isn’t it supposed to be clear weather here.” I groan, red sign in Georgian, and next to it in English. Delayed.

“That doesn’t sound good? Delayed?”

I sigh, “Yeah.” I look towards where I think my gate is and see the correct number. A few attendants were talking to passengers. “I’m gonna go find out how long. I’ll call you back.”

He hums and hangs up first, he’s probably upset, he’d already been in Greece the whole day alone. He’d just have to wait. It’s not like I have any other choice.

The passengers are complaining of course, their nags getting to my ears before I am close to the desk. Their questions were “How long really is it?” and “you’re joking right?” But some of the other’s I didn’t understand because they weren’t speaking English or Korean.

I look around the gate, seeing that dreaded face sitting in the waiting area. He smiles at me, but only because he knows I’m unhappy to see him. I try not to let him get to me, and I walk towards him instead of the desk. Surely he already knows. Which I’m sure he does because his face turns to a frown as I get closer.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” he mutters as I reach him, standing up to face me. “But the flight is delayed.”

I shake my head. Yeah I already know that. “How long?”

He shrugs, “They haven’t said how long yet.”

“What?” I flip to the attendant at the desk. “How do they not know?”

Jungkook smirks, “It’s nice to see you by the way. And you look just great.” He says, and he’s being sarcastic. I glare and then remember to soften my face because I was sure I looked like a bitch to the poor attendant behind the desk who was already surrounded by Karens.

“Seriously?” I take a deep breath, holding in my feelings that are already about to explode. Fifteen minutes in the airport and only one minute in his presence and I was ready to punch him.

“All I said was that you look great and it’s nice to see you.” He shrugs, that smug grin never leaving his face. “And all you have to say is seriously? Can’t even greet me back?”

I ignore him, seeing an open opportunity to speak with the attendant and slip between the shoulders of two others. “Hi excuse me, this flight is delayed right?”

The person nods, “Yes I am so sorry.” But they don’t say anything else.

“Is it possible you could tell me when it’s going to take off?” I pursue further, but the attendant looks dejected, making me think Jungkook was right.

“Georgia isn’t a country where storms this bad come in. This is probably the worst storm they’ve seen this summer. We just don’t have an exact time right now.”

“You’re joking right?” I sigh to myself, and then cringe realizing I sound like everyone else who is surrounding them. “I’m sorry, actually is there any information that you can give me?”

The attendant frowns, speaking to all of us now. “It’s likely that this flight will be canceled within the hour.” They pull out a map of the airport from under the desk. “For rescheduling you’ll want to go here. They point to a dot on the far end, “It should be easy to get one within the next day or so.” My eyes widen. Day or so? I look back to Jungkook who looks equally as worried.

I thank the attendant and return to my luggage and Jungkook at the benches. “What do we do?”

He glances at the hoard of people heading away from the gate, “Try and get on a flight that’s open I guess.” He sighs, pulling up his phone and dialing for Jin.

I bite my lip, glancing and seeing that the people were all heading off to do the same thing. Our stress-free flight that was planned to the T was no longer in sight. And now the line of those trying to do the same thing as us, would make it take even longer.

“Hey…” I turn to Jungkook who sits back down in the chair. “They are advising us to find another flight. Something for tomorrow or the next day…” He’s talking to Jin, whose voice I hear on the other end. Much more upset than he was earlier. I try and listen in as I sit next to Jungkook, the nagging feeling that I should go get us a spot in line urging me to bite at the inside of my mouth even more. But the line would be long whether I went now or waited with Jungkook.

“Yeah I know… I’m really sorry Jin.” Jungkook says and then faintly I hear an ‘its not your fault’ and then an ‘room service here is good’ I smile at this, hoping that Jin would make the best of our late comings. “We are going to wait until they cancel it and then I guess see what kind of flights there are. I’ll call you then okay?”

I shake my head. He decided for the both of us. I open my mouth as he finally hangs up the phone but he speaks before I can.

“Listen Eunjae, before you get all gripey with me, I think we should wait because if we go and buy new tickets just to find out that this attendant was wrong and the flight doesn’t get canceled that would fucking suck.” My mouth shuts and Jungkook grins. For now I would listen to him.

Twenty minutes later the sign changed to cancel. Jungkooks defeat, not that it brings me joy. But if anything is going to make me smile in this situation it would be that Jungkook is wrong.

“What if they only have one seat?” I grin at the thought of this. “Can I buy the first flight out?” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Jin might despise you.” He retorts, dragging along one more smaller suitcase than me. I know he was right and stop thinking about the idea. Jin would be furious. Maybe more than Jungkook knew.

Before we had planned the trip Jin had come to me very angry, (as angry as he lets himself get) and very sad that his two best friends hate each other's guts. He had said it made him anxious and he wasn’t sure if either of us would stick around him because of the other.

Which had never crossed my mind. Of course I hate everytime Jin tells me Jungkook would be at an event or would be tagging along with us but I didn’t think that it bothered Jin. To be honest it looked like it stressed him out more than Jungkook and I. Which I understand. It is hard to be the middleman.

No, I never thought about not hanging out with Jin because of Jungkook. Well maybe I was lying. But it was never a permanent thought in my head. Rather it was fleeting in moments that I found out Jungkook would be coming and I didn’t want to go that night anymore. I always told Jin that there were ways to schedule us around eachother, and he’d pretend to listen. Which genuinely upset me, because Jungkook is an asshole. An asshole who I hate, and Jin should listen to how I feel too. But I never tell him that. Instead I agreed to go to Greece with the two of them. Jungkook completely unaware that this is basically a bonding experiment.

“The earliest flight I can put you both on together is tomorrow evening at 5 pm” Which is extremely disappointing. Regardless, we don’t have another choice, so we laid out some money for the flight. Now another decision would have to be made. To stay in the airport and sleep on the floor, waiting hours and hours on end, or to get a hotel just outside of the airport. “With or without you I am getting out of this place.” Jungkook groans, and for once I agree with him and in silence we find our way to the exit. “I called a hotel that’s pretty close.” I say putting the phone down, exhausted as we had just gone through security. “They said we are lucky there are two rooms open so last minute.” Jungkook only grunts in response, hailing a cab for us. I sigh, which is the most either of us lets out the entire car ride to the hotel except to thank and pay the driver.

Neither of us speak when we exit either, heading into the hotel side by side but far apart. Despite the silence so obviously caused by resentment towards each other, I don’t try to fix it. I’ll save my energy for the rest of the trip, while in Seokjin’s presence.

We check in, and pay our own separate ways. A two hundred dollar expense that I wasn’t expecting to pay, but because it’s so last minute the prices for just one night were high.

“Heres your key cards. Hope you enjoy your stay.” The receptionist has a small smile and ushers us along. We aren’t the only people checking in.

I finally break the silence. “I think my room is in the other direction…” I announce and he looks back at me with a curt nod.

“Well if you need anything you have my number.” He says before turning around. “Be safe.” is barely heard as I turn around too. I don’t mutter ‘you too’ back because he’s already walking off.

As I walk off towards my room I let out a deep breath of relief. Glad that the silence wasn’t forced anymore. I seriously don’t know what Jin was thinking. A week trip with just the three of us? It is going to suck, and probably for all of us. Maybe that’s why Jin’s destination is Greece, a place we could try and relax amongst agonizing company. Jin’s trying at least and, since he cares so much I’ll put in my effort. Or at least try to.

I text Jin that we finally got to a hotel and that I would message him before our flight tomorrow. He responds with a smiley and a goodnight. I smile, hoping that he was having a good night too.

By the time I get to my hotel room I am giddy with the idea of jumping in bed. My arm is tired from dragging my suitcase and my back hurts from the airplane seats. Not to mention my aching brain from the practically pointless conversations with Jungkook. Seriously did he not even care to at least make some small talk? He spoke things of such little importance. ‘You look great’ He could have asked some questions about how I was doing or something worth conversation. Or at least make it genuine. However, would it have been worse to hear him speak more?

I pull the card up against the slot, a beep and then a red light blinking. Red is never a good sign. And what do you know the door doesn’t unlock. What a joke. I look down at my stuff debating whether to leave it by the door or take it all the way back to the lobby with me. Then I decide that leaving everything on my person in a foreign country is stupid and I pull the luggage back.

“Hi what can I help you with?” It’s a different attendant this time, and I slide the card to them

“Hi, um I’m in room 128 and my key wont work.”

They nod a few times, taking the key and inserting it somewhere. She types up some things on the computer and then. “Mr Hamira?”

I shake my head. “No it should be under Ha, Ha Eunjae” They seem confused and double check. They shake their head.

“I’m sorry we…” they purse their lips, typing in something else. “I’m sorry one moment.” So I stand there wondering if the earlier receptionist was wrong. There weren't two rooms, and instead had given me a room that someone else was in. Fuck I hope not.

“Well, you’re name is there. I have your receipt here… but someone else already has this booked out as well…” I swallow. Damnit. I nod. “Are you sure?”

They frown and then reach for the phone. “I’ll call the room to see if anyone is in it.” So she dials it up and a moment later an answer. My heart drops. I’ll have to find another room? And if they don’t have one? Then I’d call another hotel. I don’t want to think about what I would do if there aren’t any open hotels for the night. Why’s it so damn busy at this hotel? “Sorry sir for waking you, we just wanted to check…” I open my phone googling a nearby hotel. “Is there any other rooms?”

The receptionist puts the phone down shaking her head. “Not tonight I’m afraid. I’m so sorry, do you remember the name of the person who sold you this room?” I shake my head, not really caring for them to get reprimanded. “I will refund your money right now.” I bite my lip. Damn, what was I going to do?

“Okay.” I mutter dialing the phone to the next closest hotel. They answer but no good news, they were booked out for the rest of the week.

“We have a festival going on nearby that’s why.” She frowns, “I’m sorry…”

I don’t really care, it’s not her fault, but as I call the next hotel and the next and the next all within an hours radius I realize there’s no hope. I could travel the two hours to the next hotel but… I find myself seated in the lobby head pressed against my suitcase. I feel like throwing up, crying and screaming all simultaneously.

Jin crosses my mind and for a moment I think about calling him, but I decide not to bother him. It is my own problem to deal with. Though I can imagine him saying something like “your problems are mine and vice versa.” Blah blah, he cares too much. I frown, thinking about how bad the trip is going to be. I wonder if Jin dreads it as much as me. Does Jungkook dread hanging out with me as much as I do him? He must. After all he thinks that ‘I’m a stuck up cunt’ and many other things I don’t feel like replaying. I frown, how misogynistic and cruel. But I don’t linger on his past words and instead his most recent flutter into my thoughts.

Well if you need anything you have my number.

So because I have no other ideas, I pull open my phone and search him up. There was nothing.

Fuck. Of course not, I never saved his number. I hate his guts. For a moment I hate my own guts. How stupid could I be, not saving his number? Any number of emergencies could have occurred where I might need to contact him.

I cave, realizing who I need to ask, and open our text messages.

‘you’re really asking for his number’

‘yes dont ask i just rlly need it oki???’

‘mhm, why don’t you ask him yourself ;)’

‘jin give me his number’

I roll my eyes, but another text comes and it's a phone number. I stare at it for a moment. Do I text or call? And then I think about doing neither, I could just bear with the two hour drive. I close the message. Honestly getting a cab for two hours would be expensive. But not more expensive than the time I’ll be stuck with Jungkook. Plus I’ll have to sleep on the floor. It would be rude to ask to take the bed… Fuck.

So I call a cab, the line ringing and my head buzzing with regret. How expensive would this ride be? Not to mention I’d have to get another cab back to the airport tomorrow? My teeth tear into the skin in my mouth, this time the taste of iron filling at my tongue.

“What are you doing out here?” I jump at the sound of his voice, turning to see Jungkook standing with his wallet in hand.

I don’t know how to explain but settle with “They sold me a room they don't have.”I stutter thinking how stupid I must look still sitting in the lobby with all my stuff. I was sure to look a mess, almost crying. He looks over to the receptionist who is speaking to someone else. I look at the clock on my phone, still waiting for an answer. It is almost eleven.

“Is there another hotel?” He mutters not even looking back at me.

“No, well. There is one but it’s two hours away.”

His eyes widen as he opens his wallet. “Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t be joking.” I say, my voice raising. I am not in the mood right now. He doesn’t respond. “I’m trying to call a cab.” I take the phone away from my ear as it goes to voice mail. The message is in a language I don’t know. “Fuck.” I hang up. Putting my phone on my lap.

“Did you already rent a room at the other hotel?” He asks, looking longingly to the vending machines.

My jaw clenches. “No.” I spit at him, “They won’t fucking take my money over the phone, because of this damn.” I choke, “This.. Damn festival.” I sniff, pressing my hands against my cheeks that were now rosy and warm.

“What kind of festival?”

I blink, a tear falling from my eye. “I don’t fucking know.” I almost yell, the receptionist looking over. A few more tears drip down my cheeks. I wipe them hastily away.

Jungkook takes a seat next to me. “I’m sorry… I didn’t ask to piss you off..” he sighs, “I wasn’t thinking.” he presses his lips together looking anywhere but me, “you’re not going anywhere, that’s stupid.” I wipe away more stupid tears as he continues. “It’s just one night you can come to my room…” He sighs, eyes falling to his hands.

“Really?” I sniff.

He glares at me even though I was really asking. “Yeah don’t ask again or your calling that cab.”

My smile is small while I stand with him, awkwardly following him to the vending machines and watching as he glanced over his options. He finally just chose a water bottle and some m and ms.

“Do you want anything?” He asks me, and I shake my head softly. Still a foggy mind from the anxiety attack I narrowly dodged.

He buys another water and hands it to me. We quietly walk back towards his room. The receptionist was staring, probably conjuring what kind of person would pick a stranger to stay in their hotel room. Little does she know, we actually know each other.

As we got to his room and he taps the key on the door, I will myself to speak again. “you didn’t have to…” but I only mumble the words.

He pops a chocolate in his mouth and looks down at me. “What? It’s just water.”

“No…” I frown as he kicks open the door. “letting me stay with you.”

He shrugs as we enter the hotel room. “I said don’t mention it, otherwise you’re back on the street.” Despite sounding serious I can tell that he’s not. I shuffle to the side of the room leaving my suitcase on the side.

“I can sleep on the floor…”

“Ew what? No, that's disgusting.” He shakes his head, and unzips his suitcase. He stands there a moment before pulling out some clothes. I stand there idle as he walks around me, closing himself off into the bathroom.

He is right, that is gross. But I don’t want to take his bed? Would he sleep on the floor? How annoying, I know that if it were the other way around I’d be pissed. I should have just gotten the other hotel. I could have napped on the drive and been fine. Although I wouldn’t want to be alone with some driver for two hours. It would probably be a man, and he might be creepy.

“Eunjae are you okay?” Jungkook has come out in sweats and a tshirt. I stare at him a second, but not for any reason other than he spoke to me.

“Oh, yeah.” I realize I’ve been standing in the same place since I got in the room and so I decide that I’ll follow in his footsteps, taking out a pair of shorts and a tshirt I had packed for pajamas.

He squints at me, walking around back to the other side of the room. “You’re being weird…”

“Sorry.” I mutter going into the bathroom to change. Although I knew I would look tired, when I found myself in the mirror I looked worse than I thought. My eyes are red and puffy from fatigue as well as crying. I roll my eyes at myself. It was a stupid reason to cry. I try not to think about the day that had gone wrong so I distract myself by changing. It is in the past now so it doesn’t really matter. But still, I don’t want to be on another flight tomorrow and I don’t want to be in this room, but I don’t want to be anywhere else either. I just want to be in Greece already. Drinking and sitting on the beach with Jin.

After changing I brush my teeth and wash my face. I am ready to pass out. I come back out to the room and Jungkook is playing some videos on his phone. He is laid out on the left side of the bed, already under the covers. Two pillows separate the two sides of the bed. It is only a queen sized bed, and Jungkook isn’t small so there is only just enough space for me.

“What?” He glares at me. And it bothers me because I’ve done absolutely nothing to him.

“N-nothing.” I say, plugging my phone in and stepping to the bed. Really I never did anything to him the entire time we had known each other. And yet he is such an asshole. I take a seat, but really I don’t want to get in the bed. It’s weird.

I hear Jungkook sigh as I stare at my phone. “We aren’t twelve you know.”

“I am aware Jungkook. That doesn’t mean I want to sleep in the same bed as you.” I shoot, back to my regular self.

He huffs, “For one night only. You’ll never get the chance again.” He winks when I turn staring daggers at him.

I ignore this and pull myself under the covers. If I ever am going to fall asleep tonight in the presence of that demon I will have to start getting comfortable now.

We both fall into a silence. The only sounds being the rain hitting the window, the air conditioner, and the tiktoks he's scrolling through. The light is still on so I don’t close my eyes yet. Instead I think about what Jin had asked of me. He won’t want me to fake it. No fake smiles, or being a bitch back to Jungkook after he’s been an asshole. I will have to genuinely be nice to him. How can I do that when he’s only being an ass to me all time? Be honest with my feelings? Hey Jungkook, that hurt my feelings. Ha, he’ll laugh in my face and then do it again… right?

I have never tried that before… and earlier when I had very obviously almost had a breakdown he actually apologized. I think it was genuine. I think that might have been the first time he had ever seen me cry.

“Jungkook.” I hated myself the moment his name came out of my mouth. Why had I spoken?

He rolls over slightly as he had been facing opposite me. “What?” He sounds annoyed, rightfully so.

I stare at the ceiling. “Why do you hate me?” And after I ask the question I bite my lip because it sounds stupid.

He scoffs, “Who told you I hated you?”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean? At the very least you dislike me highly. When have you ever shown any ounce of kindness to me?” Silence, and that sounds even more dumb because he had by letting me stay in his room “Y-you know what I mean.” I squint, realizing I am being a bitch and failing at even one step of pleasing Jin.

“I only treat you the same way you treat me.” He states blankly, my anger immediately blowing over.

“What?” I push myself up on one arm, Jungkook raising a brow at me. “Are you fucking joking? You’ve only ever been an asshole to me. I never did anything but deal with your shit.”

He blinks. “That’s not true.” My mouth falls open at his unwillingness to admit that he had done something wrong. “I only don’t like you because you don’t like me. No other reason.” He sits up, “You started whatever this is.” He scrunches up his face, “and don’t act like you didn’t because from the very beginning of our relationship, you acted like I didn’t exist…”

He shakes his head, hands clenching tightly against his phone, continuing; “and everytime I came into the room you’d look at me like I was some disgusting animal and then whisper to your friends. Do you know how that makes someone feel? All I ever did was say hi and you were so fake I could feel the bitchiness radiating off you. I didn’t do anything and you treated me like shit.” He looks me over. “You were awful.”

I wish I could have interrupted his stupid speech. He really believes that I am in the wrong? Does he really have no recollection?

“Liar.” I growl. “Don’t act like you dont know.” I sniff, “I only ignored you because you thought you had me figured out from the get go.” My frown becomes prominent and that feeling from earlier returns along with the redness in my cheeks and the water in my eyes. “You had met me one time Jungkook. One fucking time and had the nerve to assume you knew anything about me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He has a stupid look on his face, one that makes me even more angry.

“How can you not remember your great first impression of me Jungkook?” I feel a tear slip down my cheeks but it's more out of anger than sadness. “Eunjae seems like a pretentious cunt, I don’t know why Jin is friends with someone like that-” the tears fall freely now, “a- a whore and…” I clasp a hand over my mouth, stopping a sob. There isn’t really a point in continuing. That should refresh his memory enough. a whore and a gold digging bitch. Only friends with Jin for his money. None of which was true. Well maybe the pretentious part, only sometimes. The tears are dripping onto the sheets of the bed, embarrassing. So I push the covers off of me.

“I-” He shakes his head, shakes and shakes. “I didn’t say that. I never said that.” But I am not listening, I stand up and walk into the bathroom, unable to hear whatever it is he’s saying. I shut the door and sit on the edge of the tub, tearing at the tissue to blow my nose.

I had only told a few of my friends why I hated Jungkook. Only the ones that weren’t mutual with him. Even Jin always wondered. Why would I tell him that the young man he looks so highly of is a total douchebag? It only felt right to keep it to myself, I was sure, no, am sure that Jungkook had relayed that impression of me to all our friends. After all it was my friend who had told me she overheard him telling these things to Taehyung. I had met Taehyung that night and after that I thought I saw a tinge of disdain everytime we spoke. At present it is gone, but did he still sometimes agree? Does he think I am a whore? Do Namjoon or Yoongi think I am a golddigger? I am sure Jungkook thinks those things all of the time. Because he has always been an asshole. Always.

There is a knock at the front door, which I hear Jungkook answer. The door opens and I wondered what it is. It shuts again a moment later. Maybe Jungkook left. After gaining my bearings I rinse off my face and go to open the door. How am I meant to stay here after that?

Jungkook is standing across from the door, “There was a noise complaint.” He spoke quietly, scratching the back of his neck. I don’t respond, only try to walk past him back to the bed. “Eunjae, I never said that.” I close my eyes not really wanting to hear it. “I swear to you, I never said that.”

I pout, looking up at him, barely whispering. “I don’t believe you.”

“I- I really didn’t. I don’t know how to prove to you I didn’t. Why would I? I never have thought those things about you. I really would never say those things.” He stutters a few times and then gets annoyed. “Who told you I said that?”

I clench my teeth, “P-Park Iseul.”

He looks defeated, “I- I don’t even know who that is…”

He can’t defend himself which is enough for me. “You said all those things about me, to Tae…”

“No Jae… listen.” I scoff, “Really gonna try using a nickname on me now? You’re really-”

“Eunjae, I’m sorry.” He’s holding back his annoyance with me, “Why don’t you ask Tae then? Mhm?” He purses his lips, “I have never lied to you. Have I?” And I think for a moment. I can’t recollect a time when he had lied, but I’m sure there had to be at least one. “I didn’t say those things about you. In fact I thought you were really cool. Whoever may have said those things really is an asshole and they're wrong.” He flicks his hands up, “But it wasn’t me.”

“Then- then why have you been so mean to me?” Is all I could manage. At this point I’m not sure whether I believe him or not. This whole time of thinking that he had said those things only to be wrong?

“I told you. You made me feel like I was a parasite. Like I didn’t belong. I’ve been wondering why you’ve hated me for years, and figured that there was just something wrong with me.”

My frown is stuck to my face. I never wanted him to feel that way. No, I did, but only because he made me feel the same way. Because he is evil. But if that isn’t true and he never had been evil in the first place, then it was I who had been the evil one.

“I’m sorry.” I say softly, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, his hair falling into his face, “I’m sorry too.” However, if he is telling the truth then there is no real reason for him to apologize. I had thought that Jungkook was reigning terror over me the whole time I had known him but it had actually been the other way around. I am the bitch he thinks I am.

“No really.” I wish I had grabbed a few more tissues because my eyes are leaking again, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so mean.” He doesn’t say anything. “I really thought that-”

“It’s okay.” He sighs, leaning against the wall. “If it had been the other way around, I might have done the same thing.” But something tells me he wouldn’t have. Despite despising him, the years and years of being around each other I knew Jungkook fairly well. The only person he acts like this around is me, and it is all my fault.

I fold my hands together, sniffing. “Jungkook I’m so so so sorry. I really am. I wish I could take it all back.”

He pushes himself off of the wall. “Please, it’s fine I promise you. If you apologize again I’m making you sleep on the floor.” He walks around back to the bed. “I wish I could take it back too, but it’s just the past.” He sits down. “And now we know it was a dumb miscommunication.” A miscommunication and an assumption on my part. And now I feel awful. And as if reading my mind he speaks again, “Don’t apologize again, really.”

“But I-” He shoots me a glare that stops me.

“Eunjae, I know you’re sorry. I think I know you well enough to know now that you mean it genuinely.” Which only made me feel worse knowing that I never have truly apologized for any of the mean things I’ve said to him. I wonder how often I made him feel sad. He didn’t really show it, instead he’d shoot some sarcastic thing back at me.

“I want to apologize for everything… anything I’ve ever said-” I continue… and he sighs.

“Well don’t. Just pretend that we were teasing each other. Most of it was teasing anyway.”

But he is wrong, “For you maybe. You teased me. I was just awful. I can’t imagine how you felt. I-”

“Yes you can imagine, because you felt the same way about all the things I said to you. So we’ll call it even.” He pulls the covers over himself. “Now let's forget about it and sleep. It's already midnight.” I stand in my place for a moment, before admitting defeat and going back to bed. After pulling the covers up to my shoulders, Jungkook switches off the last light, the whole room going dark as well as silent. The patter of rain on the window lulls me to fatigue but my brain doesn’t want to stop churning. Eventually my thoughts calm themselves and I’m able to fall asleep.

It was an awkward morning. Both of us were quiet as we tiptoed around each other, getting ready to head back to the airport. Showered, and freshened up for another 5 hour flight. We had slept in but still were tired, and my back still ached. There were almost six hours till our flight but checkout was at 11 and it was 10:45. I was hungry the last meal I had was back in Korea, and last night I hadn’t even thought about eating. We would hopefully pick up something on the way.

“Do you want to eat?” Jungkook asks as he gives the attendant his keycard. “I’m starving.”

It was the first thing he had said that morning and it felt weird. Our conversation from last night had ended abruptly. At least to me it had. There was so much left unsaid. I wanted to apologize again, in a moment where we were not in the heat of the moment. A real apology.

“Me too.” I say, and I try to smile. “We could go through the drive through with an uber?”

So that’s what we did. A quick sandwich place where the food was cheap and easy. The driver allowed us to eat in the car as long as we didn’t make a mess. The drive to the airport took longer than expected. There was traffic from the event the attendant spoke of last night, but thankfully the driver played music as Jungkook wasn’t talking much. What was he thinking?

He was probably thinking about how much he hated airport security. At least that was what I was thinking as we made our way through the airport. Conversation was the last thing on my mind while I walked through the metal detectors. By the time we were set free by the employees and back around to our new gate it was 1pm with four hours to kill.

“What do you think Jin is doing right now?” I spoke to him for the first time in what might have been an hour of waiting. Now we are sitting together on a bench, with several other passengers. It's not like we have much else to do. I can at least try to kill the awkward with conversation.

He sighs, “Probably eating a five star lunch with a view of the beach…” He leans back against the chair, stretching his neck, and pushing his hair back. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. His chest rising and falling softly. I look away and think back to Jin.

“I wish…” I pull out my phone, he is probably wondering what we are doing too. I dial his number, looking away from Jungkook.

He answers almost right away. “Hey Jinnie….”

“Hey are you at the airport?” He sounds more cheerful than he was last night. He is just as excited as we are that we’ll finally be in Greece with him.

“Yup, still got a while to wait though.” I say frowning, looking at the clock. “We are just sitting here… waiting. Waiting. Waiting.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry…” He sighs and then mumbles to someone off the phone. “I can't wait to see you… In like eight hours…”

I shake my head… “It’ll be late then, you should sleep.” He shouldn’t wait for us. It’s not like we are alone. We’ll be able to find our way to the hotel with eachothers help. I glance to Jungkook who looks like he could be asleep. His lashes were quite long. Just as long as mine, how unfair. He had such a pretty face.

“No, no it sucks that you guys got stuck and I want to meet you there. Don’t need you getting lost.” And I smile at this. He’s always like this. Caring for others. It sucks even more that he is alone though. Is Jungkook asleep? That same soft rise and fall of his chest. No he isn’t, His thumbs twiddle with the tag on his luggage.

“Alright… Then I’ll see you in eight hours… try and save doing the fun stuff with Jungkook and I. I think I have severe FOMO.” I laugh, picking at my fingers. I was a patient person but god this is a long time to wait.

“Me too.” Jungkook huffs, not opening his eyes “What’s he eating? How’s the food?” He groans, “I wanna be there and not here.”

I relay Jungkook's questions which Jin happily answers. “Oh you will love it. Everything is delicious. I don’t want to stop eating. It's so good.”

I smile, barely holding back my anticipation. “We can’t wait to be there.”

For a moment he’s quiet, “You’ve sounded weird… What happened? Did you guys argue or something?” He sighs, “Why am I even asking of course you argued.”

“What?” I purse my lips together. How’d he figure that out so easily? Am I that easy to read? Did I really say something that made it obvious? I didn’t think so. “What do you mean?”

“You’re being suspicious. What happened?”

I frown. What does he mean? Am I really being suspicious… No. “You’re suspicious… When do we not…” I look at Jungkook who’s still not paying attention. “seriously? When has there ever been a time where we didn’t…” I avoid saying the word fight. I don’t want Jungkook to know that we are talking about him.

“Well I asked you not to.” I can just see him crossing his arms, The way his voice has sped up, of course he's upset. “Man I can't handle this, if you guys are going to hate each other the whole trip. Seriously you can’t suck it up and have a good time? Once? Literally that’s all I’m asking is for this one time…”

I clench my phone tighter, “Jin. To be honest you’re a liar.” I try to speak in a cool tone, still not wanting Jungkook to be paying me any mind. “One time? really? No it’s been the whole time, all the times. Fuck.” I take a deep breath. “What about what I asked of you? Mhm? Yeah you didn’t listen to that.”

“Well I’m older than you so…”

“It doesn’t matter anyway because nothing happened anyways, Well, nothing like usual so you can keep your assumptions to yourself. Bye I’ll see you in Greece.” I hung up the phone.

“So what was it that you asked of him?” I look over to Jungkook who’s staring down at me. I blink, why was he eavesdropping? I am a fool to think he wasn’t paying attention. “You know you’re sitting right next to me and it’s not like Iphone speakers are very quiet. So what was it that you asked of him?” He crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” I lean back in my chair, “it was before we figured out it was a misunderstanding.”

“I still want to know.” He’s acting like a child.

“Really? Why? We’ve already spent all day in silence and I’d rather you not hate me again.”

“We already covered that I never hated you in the first place.”

“Really Jungkook?” I roll my eyes. “Plus you’re the one who wanted to stop talking about it? So why are you asking now?”

He shrugs. “I wanna know.” A short breath comes from my nose while I contemplate what to tell him. It was cruel now in hindsight. But it was genuinely how I felt at the time.

I shake my head , “I asked him to make sure I never saw you again.” I almost laugh cause it sounds so stupid. “Like, literally all the time I used to ask that, but a few months ago I genuinely asked him to stop inviting me if you were going to be there. And that’s when he planned this trip. One last big event before I boycotted you.” He stares at me, “Does that make you feel better?” I grind my teeth. “Not that you probably didn’t feel the same way.”

His eyes fell to the floor, his face softening. “Sorry.”

I squint, looking him over. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who’s being a bitch… again.”

His eyes roll over to me. “No, I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t hang out with your best friend.” He frowns, brows furrowed as he contemplates what to say. “That sucks”

“I’m sure you felt the same way…”

He shakes his head. “Not really. So, I’m sorry.” His eyes haven't left mine, and it’s making me uncomfortable.

“I-If I can’t apologize.” I swallow, sitting back in my seat, avoiding that burning eye contact. “Then neither can you.”

“I don’t think I did last night, so I-” he folds his hands together. “I’m really sorry for e-”

“No. You did apologize, so no more apologizing.” I pull out my headphones, “I forgive you so it’s fine.” And I plug them into my phone, shutting him out.

He blinks, shaking his head and turning away from me. Doing whatever. While I sit here and wait.

“Hey, we are boarding.” I blink, waking to Jungkook shaking my shoulder lightly. I yawn, grateful that I had managed some sleep, but knowing that I’d regret it on the plane ride. Planes are so awfully uncomfortable. We board slowly, waiting in line behind other people. I should have grabbed a coffee before we boarded, because now I feel so groggy. But maybe I would manage to fall back asleep. Four hours would be awfully boring if I didn’t. I guess I did download those movies though.

“Do you want the aisle seat?” He asks as we scoot down the aisle. I shrug as we reach our seats. We couldn’t get an outside seat, so we are stuck in the middle aisle. “It doesn’t really matter to me.” He mutters, reaching up and sticking his bag in the overhead storage.

“You’re taller, and wider.” I smile. “It’s fine I’ll take the middle.” He grins, “Who ever could have thought you could actually be nice to me.”

“I’m just being considerate.” I mutter, pushing my extra stuff into the storage as well.

He squeezes past me, “Well so am I.” He takes the seat over, some guy already in the other seat. I squint, wondering if he’s being considerate or petty just to keep me from being nice. Or am I being petty too?

I take my seat anyways, turning my phone onto airplane mode as the attendants go through the safety briefings. “But are you going to have to go to the bathroom?”

He shakes his head, pulling his hoodie over his head. “Nope, I’ve got a strong bladder.”

I take the hoodie as a sign he no longer wants to talk so I plug in my headphones and press on the horror movie I downloaded and brace myself for takeoff.

Halfway through the flight I notice that Jungkook was asleep. It had taken him a little while, likely because of the uncomfortable seat. Or the random stranger that is sitting next to him and their loud chewing. Or that he is in a hoodie and it is really hot.

Earlier in the flight I could tell he wanted to take it off, but for the sake of not bothering other people he left it on. For a while he watched an anime, but now he is sleeping.

His hair is in his face, his breath hitting one strand that flutteres over his lips. I feel like waking him up as he is about to be leaning on the random stranger, but that feels wrong. He is really peaceful when he sleeps. Those same pretty lashes resting over his cheeks.

The strings of a sharp violin jump up in my ear, making me jump and look back to my screen. I take a deep breath. What am I doing? I pause the movie. Maybe I can try and sleep too. I close my eyes, tucking my phone into my pocket. Ignoring whatever that was.

“Sorry, excuse me.” I open my eyes, Jungkook standing and attempting to squeeze between me and the chair. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, his tattooed arm reaching over my head. I furrow my brows, trying to press myself against the chair and out of his way.

He had taken off his hoodie now, a tight button up shirt that fit around his muscles very nicely. Why would he wear that under a hoodie?

“You look very beautiful.” My eyes scrunch up as I glare at him. Is he being sarcastic? What a weird comment to make? “No really. I mean it.”

I blush, why’s he saying this? On the airplane? While he’s hovering over all sexy like? What the fuck?

“Can I kiss you?” I stare at him, hands clenching the sides of my seat. What does he mean? I look over to the stranger who is surely as uncomfortable as me, but he is gone, as are all of the other passengers. It is just me and Jungkook.

I flinch upon his hand at my cheek. “I asked you a question…” he smirks, my heart skipping a beat.

I shake my head. “No, Jungkook? What the fuck?” I push him off.

“What the fuck? What’s that for?” I blink, seeing Jungkook still over me, back in his hoodie, the stranger sitting next to us staring. I look around, a couple of eyes staring at me. “I’m trying to go to the bathroom.”

I try to collect myself, was it a dream? I look up, catching Jungkook’s glare. “I’m sorry I-” He scoots out of the aisle. “I had a- a bad dream.” He looks at me in confusion before turning his head and heading down towards the bathroom. I sigh checking the time. So I managed to fall asleep… There is about thirty minutes of the flight left. What a relief. I pull the movie back out and decide the time will go by faster that way. Jungkook returns in no time, scooting back to his seat.

“So what kinda bad dream was it?” I turn my head to him, “You were pushing me pretty violently. Something traumatic happen to you that I should know about?”

I laugh light heartedly to hide my anxiety. To be honest or not? “Uh…”

Jungkook turns his eyes to slits, staring intently with a horrid grin. “You said my name. Ring any bells?”

I blink, “I- well. You tried to kiss me.” He laughs at this.

“Really? And it was that bad?” He crosses his arms. “I mean damn you really shoved me into the chair of the person in front of you. It was that bad?” He teases.

My mouth falls open, void of speech for a moment. “It’s awkward… It was weird.” I cover my face. “Wouldn’t it be weird if you had a dream where I tried to kiss you?”

He ponders this for a moment, “You know… I think I’d let you.” He smirks, “Why not?”

“What do you mean why not?” I lean over, trying to maintain my whisper voice, I had already drawn too much attention to myself. “Thats-”

He shrugs, “It’s not like it’s real. No big deal.” He looks at me, expecting an answer.

I fall back into my chair, “Well it felt pretty real so-” I fiddle with my shirt. “It’s not like you would know if it was real or not in the dream.”

“I guess you’re right.” He glances at his phone, the clock ticking oh so slow. He doesn’t say anything more. Leaving me wondering. Would he still let me? Why was that even a question in my mind? I press play on my movie, hoping for it to distract me.

The plane lands and it’s extremely dark outside, the city lights blinking around us. Now that we finally landed I was feeling giddy, excited not only to be there but also to see Jin.

The airport this time around was a lot harder to get around. Our baggage claim took twenty minutes in itself, poor Jin texting me from outside. But we were on our way out, needing to stretch and get some fresh uncirculated air.

“Hey!” I look up seeing Jin waiting for us with an Uber. “Welcome to Athens!” He stretches out his arms, me rushing to be the first to greet him.

“Jinniaahh.” I embrace him, missing his bear hugs. I reluctantly let go, giving Jungkook his turn as well.

“How was the flight here? Not considering the fact that it wasn’t the original one you were meant to take.”

Jungkook beats me to an answer, “It was good aside from the fact that Eunjae tried to claim I assaulted her.”

“No I-”

“It was embarrassing, everyone was staring.” He giggles, looking at me with a smile, and it isn’t meant to be conniving. He is only teasing.

I try to loosen up, not expecting him to be teasing so light-heartedly. He isn’t trying to be mean this time. Would I have to remind myself of that everytime he speaks? I smile, “Yeah it was embarrassing for me to.” I elbow him. “Everyone really was staring.” I pout at Jin, “I felt really bad.”

“Did you now?” Jungkook’s lips curl to one side. “Can we get coffee?”

“Coffee?” I look at the clock, “Are you crazy? It’s almost two in the morning.”

Jin looks at both of us, “What’s going on? Is this playful banter? Are you playing a prank on me?”

I look at him, “What’s wrong with playful banter?” I tease Seokjin, “Isn’t it everything you ever wanted?” The uber driver helps us get our luggage into the trunk.

Jin glares at me, holding the door open for me. “I-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Jungkook winks at him, getting in on the other side.

Jin gets in the front seat, all of us in the car now. “Now I really think you’re faking it…”

I roll my eyes, turning an air conditioning nozzle towards me. “No Jinnie, just teasing you.” He hums and I can tell he’s not fully convinced. Not that I’m all that convinced either.

We get to the airbnb by two thirty, and Jin is ready to pass out. Jungkook and I however are pumped, finally out of the plane and ready to explore Athens, it is a shame that we arrived so late. Here's to hoping that our jet lag won't ruin the day tomorrow.

We pull our luggage into the little house and Jungkook and I are wide eyed. It is really nice, and I am sure it has to have five stars and incredible reviews. It is an open concept, the kitchen, dining, and living room are all connected, stairs at the door leading up to the three bedrooms.

“Thank god we don’t have to share a bed.” Jungkook says, starting up the stairs with a smile. I shake my head pulling in my suitcase behind me. Not only is the inside open, but it is a full fishbowl style, all the windows open towards the city below. We’re up on a hill, trees surrounding the rest of the house for moderate privacy. But the view is beautiful. I wonder what it will look like at sunrise or sunset.

“You guys shared a bed?” Jin asks curiously, opening up the fridge where he pulls out a water, tossing it to me and taking out another for himself.

“Yeah… Was kinda weird. But there was only one room in the hotel we were at. Very very unfortunate.” I huff, “But I guess Jungkook didn’t have to let me stay with him. It was better than being on the street.” I laugh.

“Mhm, is this why you’re being all buddy buddy?” He crosses his arms, taking a sip of his water.

I shrug, opening up my own bottle. “I guess you could say that. I don’t know, we resolved some things.”

“Well that’s a relief…” He sighs, “Why was it that you didn’t like him anyways?”

I look at the ground. “It was dumb really… I’m sorry Jin.”

“No no, It’s fine. I’m just happy you guys can be civil.”

I nod, “Yeah…” Civil. I still feel awful about it. Jungkook really had done nothing after all. He said it himself: We can pretend that we were teasing each other. Had he been teasing me? Playful banter that I returned with malice.

“You good?” I blink, Jin is still standing in the kitchen.

“Yeah… I’m going to try to sleep.” I hike up the stairs, luggage in hand.

“Goodluck,” He says following, and dipping into a far bedroom.

I sigh, I will need that luck. Jet lag, and not to mention the fact that I already slept on the plane. It would probably not be a successful night's sleep. Both doors of the other rooms are closed, nice; Jungkook couldn’t have left me a clue to which room he had taken?

I knock on the door, and wait for anything. No sound so I open the door, peering inside. With a sigh of relief I walk inside. Tugging in the luggage after me. The bed looks so comfortable and suddenly the energy I thought I had was gone.

“I claim this room.” I turn around, Jungkook barging in from behind with his suitcases in tow. I'm speechless as he hops onto the bed.

“I was here first.” I look back out the door, wondering what is so wrong with the other room that he abandoned it.

He raises his brows, looking over from the bed, “Well you didn’t claim it… I did.”

“That’s childish.” I look around, deciding the other room won’t be that bad. “And I’m not so…” I walk out the door so I can take the other room.

“You are childish.” He nags. “Hey, close the door.” To which I ignore him and move on to my room. Which, like I thought, isn’t that much different than the other one. I check the bathroom though, which doesn’t have a shower. I sigh, so that’s why Jungkook must have taken the other one. It’s not like he can stop me from using his, unless he wants me to smell bad. Maybe Jin’s room has a shower too.

I unpack a little into the small chest of drawers in the room, and plug in my phone. I make sure I have everything in order for tomorrow. What is it that we were doing tomorrow anyway?

The first day on our itinerary had been ruined by the unforeseen storm in Georgia, but it’s not like it was strict. We could go to so many different museums or historical sites. Hopefully the other two will be just as interested in those as me. Too bad our other friend Joon didn’t come along. He’d love the art.

Looking at the clock I decide it’s time for bed. I shut out my lights and tuck myself in. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but falling asleep is particularly tricky. What time were we waking up? Should I go ask Jin? No, he might have already fallen asleep. Surely we would sleep in? Jungkook might complain about going straight to the museums instead of something more exciting. What is it that he wants to do again? Surfing, oh yeah. But surely not on our first day after a tiring flight.

I fluff the pillow that is already too hot. My back hurts from the flight and the bed isn’t proving to be as comfortable as I thought it would be. I wonder if the other bed is more comfy. Why’d Jungkook have to go right ahead and take it from me? He’d probably sleep in later than me too. What if Jin’s bathroom didn't have a shower and we both had to use the one in Jungkook’s room? Surely that would be absurd, Three bathrooms and one shower. No way. Not with five star reviews. There should be a shower in my bathroom too. The architect sucks. Brain shut the fuck up. I sigh into the sheets. They smell good. At least I can be sure that they are clean. I bet the floors are clean. If there was only one bed here, we could sleep on the floor and it would be way less disgusting than that of the hotel floor.

My throat is a little dry. I push myself out of the comforter. Is the ac on or Is it my high level of activity that is making me hot? I flip on my bathroom light just to see around me. Where is the thermostat? Downstairs probably. I pick up my phone and switch my flashlight on, waltzing through the hallway and down the stairs. What a house. A chandelier's crystals glimmer from my phone’s light above the stairs. How much would it cost to live in a place like this?

I don’t consider it, it is far above my salary. The kitchen is grand, meant for entertaining, a bar overlooking the living room below. Wow I’d kill to live here, my simple apartment is half the square footage, and not a speck of glamour shines there. Unless you count the prints of someone’s art I bought off of etsy.

I scour the kitchen cabinets, finding lots of plates and dishes for serving. Ah yes, my hands find the cups which shine the reflection of my flashlight. The fridge dispenses ice and cool water which I down quickly. I sm more parched than I thought and I refill the cup a second time. Sipping on the second one I think about the bathroom again. Childish indeed. If I were as childish as he, I would have replied. I don’t see your name on it. But I didn’t… Though it was just playful banter. Did he really see it that way? Was he teasing me all those years? Certainly he did it just to spite me. Either way, it was out of spite of my malice when he had done nothing wrong. He didn’t mean all the little things he said? Was he really just joking? I never was… God I feel awful. Maybe I can hope that he thought I was joking. Which is unlikely.

“Is it hot in here or-” I jump at the sound of his voice, the glass slipping from my hand and onto the floor. It shatters in the dark, pieces glimmering in the light that still shine from my phone.

“Oh my god Jungkook!” I glare at him, yelling in a whisper, hoping that the sound of glass hitting the floor hadn’t woken Jin. What is his reasoning for creeping up on me in the dark? At almost 3:30 in the morning?

“Oh my god Eunjae.” His eyes widen, “You’re bleeding.” I look down to my foot, a piece of glass lodged into the side of the sole.

“Oh my god.” I swallow, it is bleeding. Like a lot. “Oh my god…” I feel sick, blood pooling a little under my foot, I hadn’t even felt it at first, but now I do. “Oh-”

“Don’t freak out.” he says, his voice raised from his own panic. He looks around, flipping the lightswitch and blinding both of us. “Oh my god.” He’s spinning around the room, avoiding stepping on any glass. “Where’s a broom?” He says annoyed that he can’t step any closer.

“Oh my god. Jungkook it’s bleeding all over.” I cry, looking for a towel or something, but I can’t move anyways because little pieces of the cup are scattered over the floor. “Oh fuck.” I look up, avoiding looking at it. How big is the piece? Will it stop bleeding? Will I need stitches? How can this trip get any worse? What if this ruins it? It’s bleeding a lot, the blood sticky under my heel. It hurts so bad, the sharp feeling throbbing as blood seeps out of the wound. “Please help!” I whine and he almost growls at me, searching in an open closet.

“I’m fucking looking.” He runs around to the downstairs bathroom, eventually coming around with a broom and a dustpan. “Pick up your foot.” I shake my head, not wanting to move it. It hurts. He looks at me, annoyed and then more gently. “Please pick up your foot so I don’t accidentally touch it.”

I sit back on a bar stool, my foot coming off the hardwood like a sticker. My stomach churns as blood drips down my toes to the floor. Jungkook sighs, sweeping up the floor around us until no shards are seen glimmering against the lights.

“Oh my god I’m gonna throw up.” I whine, looking anywhere but my foot.

Jungkook frowns, “please don’t it’s just blood,” but I can tell he’s not pleased with the look of it either. He takes some paper towels and tosses them on the floor where I had left a bloody outline of my foot. He hands me a rag that’s slightly dampened from the sink.

“What?” I look at him in horror, “You think that I’m going to touch it?”

Exasperated, he shakes his head, “Do you expect me to? No, no. This is your foot. I’m not touching your foot.” “I- I can’t.” I look down at it, feeling queasy. And I feel hot tears run down my cheeks. “Please…”

His nose scrunches as he looks at it again, “Man you are such a crybaby.”

“Do you want to have the glass lodged in you!” I threaten, wiping away my tears. “This is your fault anyway.”

With a sigh he takes my hand, pulling up my ankle. “Just press the rag here.” He gently sets my hand at the base of my foot, soaking up any blood that was still dripping down. “You don’t have to touch the glass.” He presses my hand slightly, the sharp edge still cutting me. “Just for a second, I’m going to go look for a first aid kit. Or something.” He pushes his hair back taking a quick breath before leaving me in the kitchen.

The glass itself doesn’t seem too long. But without knowing how much of it is in my foot, I can’t gauge if I’ll need stitches or not. It is coming up about an inch from the skin. That is pretty long right? And it’s not coming right out if I move. Fuck. What if I can’t go surfing, or swimming or walking around for long periods of time because of this? I can’t forgive myself for ruining the trip not only for myself but for the other two. I’ll just be a burden.

Jungkook comes back with a smile, “look they actually had stuff!” A wrapping of gauze, medical tape, and some sanitary wipes were in his hands. “I didn’t think they would.”

I feel my heart racing, blood pumping to my foot, bleeding more and more. If it keeps bleeding it would need stitches. That’s how it works, right?

“You aren’t holding it tight enough.” He scoffs, taking the rag from me, and holding my foot more firmly.

“Ow,” I wince, wanting to yank my foot away from him.

“You’re just letting it bleed, dummy.” He frowns looking at it, and then whines, “Why does it have to be me?” He examines the glass, “And before you say anything, yeah I know it’s because I scared you so it’s my fault.”

“Sorry.” I mumble.

“Good you should be, butterfingers.” He reaches down for the glass, making me flinch.

“Are you taking it out?” I cry, making his shoulders drop.

“What else is there to do?” He looks annoyed, I’m one hundred percent getting on his nerves. But it’s not my fault. What if the glass is really deep? And what if the bleeding doesn't stop? “What’s wrong?” He asks and my eyes begin to water.

“There’s a glass in my foot.” I clench my fists. How does he not see what’s wrong?

He huffs, with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, duh. That’s why I’m going to take it out. I can tell that you aren’t okay with it and I’m just wondering why.” He tugs on another bar stool, sitting across from me, and setting my foot on his knee. “What would you rather me do?”

“I- I don’t know.” I sniff, wishing I had a tissue. “Just, what if it’s really deep? And it doesn’t stop bleeding and then we have to go to an emergency room and then I’ll need stitches. It’s four in the morning and we’ll have to wake up Jin.” I take a shaky breath. “And then the trip is ruined. Part two.” I grind my teeth together, “I don’t want to ruin the trip…”

Jungkook shuts his eyes, “God all that anxiety is all up inside you.” He nods, patting my ankle. “Yeah that might happen… but either way we have to take out the glass to find out.” Which is nothing but a fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m worried. “It’s gonna be fine, Eunjae. Things like this happen,” He smiles softly, revealing his little mole under his bottom lip. It had been hiding the majority of the trip, underneath a frown. “plus if the trip does get ruined, then you can blame it on me.” I smile through the pain, “yeah, that would make me feel better.”

“Figured.” He turns his attention back to the glass. “Now I’m going to take it out, please don’t freak out. Look away or something.”

I squeeze the counter bracing for the pain, “Don’t like, just rip it out.”

“Relax. I can promise you it’s going to hurt a lot more if you’re tense.” His voice is calming, even though I can tell that he's not exactly at ease himself. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. The glass shifts as his hands take hold. I tense despite him telling me not to. It pulls out fairly quickly and I can feel a gush of blood when it’s out. Jungkook cringes, and presses the rag against it. The sting worsens, and I can feel the throbbing throughout my whole foot.

“Is it out?” I look down seeing the glass in his hand, slick with my blood. He wraps it in paper towels and throws it out. “How big was it?”

“Like a third of an inch in there.” He shrugs, “that wasn’t that bad was it?” He holds tightly to my foot, the blood seeping through the rag. He lifts my foot, giving it some more elevation.

“We’ll see.” I say shakily.

“I’d say it was worse for me, since I had to touch your foot and take the glass out.” He sticks his tongue out, “feet are gross.”

I rest my chin on my hand, trying to not pay any attention to my foot. “Yeah they are.”

“Eunjae, will you relax?” He pokes my shin, “You’re stressing me out.”

“Were you really teasing me the whole time?”

He rolls his head back, “I didn’t want that to be our subject change. Really?” But it’s too late because my mind has been reeling all day. I just want to apologize, even if he doesn’t want me to.

“Because I wasn’t joking. And if you were… that’s so shitty.” I frown, “And you said, we could pretend that we had teased each other the whole time. Were you doing that already?”

He tilts his head, staring at me. “I don’t know, sometimes.”

I pout, “I thought you were just being mean.”

He shrugs, “I mean I wasn’t teasing you to be nice.”

“But you were teasing!” I look at him, and catch his eyes before looking away again. “I wasn’t. I was being mean to be mean.”

“This conversation is just going in circles, you know that right?” His hand rests on my shin, and he squeezes it softly. “You were being mean because you thought I was being mean.”

I scoff, “That wasn’t what I should have done. I should have been nice even though I thought you were bad. I should have always been nice and maybe we could have found out that it was a misunderstanding sooner…”

“Well that’s not what happened and it's too late to change it now-”

“I just feel so awful, Jungkook.” My tears are falling again. “And- and I said some horrible things about you and to you… I am just so sorry.” My hand lifts to cover my mouth. Jungkook lets out a deep sigh, his eyes staring off at nothing. “I thought we weren’t apologizing anymore?”

I speak through the tears, “I’m sorry.”

“Eunjae…” He rolls his eyes. “Come on. You can’t feel bad for the rest of our friendship.” But couldn’t I? “We both did things we shouldn’t have and now it's over. You’ve apologized, like ten times now and I forgive you. So please let’s move on.”

“I can’t stop thinking about how mean I was-”

“Well stop thinking about it because I don’t care.” He doesn’t let me respond and moves back to my foot, uncovering the cloth. I flinch at the fabric sticking to my skin. “Sorry.” he mutters, opening the package to the sanitary wipe. “See the bleeding has already slowed. We’ll just go surfing later in the trip.”

“How do you not care? Because I care so much… and I don’t know how to stop.” I settle my breathing, “I wish I could take it back.”

He breathes in through his nose. “I care. I just don’t care about the things you said because I know that you wish you could take it back. You would never say those things again would you?”

“No”

“That’s all I care about. Right now. That’s what matters.” He wipes the sanitary wipe gently around the cut. “I wish I could take things back too, but I can’t and I know that so all there's left to do is watch what I say now.” Carefully he wipes over the cut itself, and I clench my jaw. “So I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, that wasn’t my intention.”

“I know-”

“Let me finish please…” He says quietly, “I am sorry for calling you butterfingers, and stealing the bedroom with the shower.”

I almost laugh, “Really? You don’t have to apologize for that...” He glares at me, but I can tell he’s trying not to smile. “I’m sorry for returning your comments with snide remarks all this time. I should have known that you took them personally.” His face falls, “No, I did know that, I just didn’t care and I should have. So I’m sorry.” He looks up at me.

“But you didn’t do anything wrong. I shou-”

“Eunjae just let me apologize.” He whines.

I suck it up, nodding. “I forgive you. I-”

“Good good.” He interrupts, tossing the sanitary wipes away. “We both forgive each other and now we are going to be friends?”

“I can’t tell if that's a joke or not.”

He smirks, “I’m being serious.” All his attention goes to wrapping my foot in gauze. It uses up the whole wrap to keep it secure on my foot, he tapes it for the final measure of security, and sits up from his seat. “It’s so late, but I’m not tired at all.” I’m not tired either and it is already 4:30. Time is going by so fast.

“If we don’t sleep we won’t be able to wake up for tomorrow.” I say, watching as Jungkook cleans up the floor. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wasn’t sure if I could trust you not to throw up.” The clean up is over and I get a new glass of water. “Now I can find the thermostat, I was sweating up there.” On the side of the wall by the fridge it waits for him. “Please don’t change.” The voice he uses to read the note is naggy. “It’s so hot though.”

“Just don’t wear a hoodie or sweatpants.” I mutter, helping myself stand.

He looks offended, “What and sleep naked?” He shakes his head, turning off the kitchen light.

“That is not what I said…” I squint. “Why do you have to be wearing such heavy things?” We make a slow trek up the stairs, Jungkook only talking to me who limps up each step.

“Well normally I don’t really sleep with a lot of clothing on but this is not my own bed so.”

“Just wear a shirt then…”

“But hoodies are comfortable.”

I smile, “yes they are.”

“If I could I would wear hoodies all the time.”

“What about your tattoos? They would just be covered up all the time.” We finally get up the stairs, whispering as to not bother Jin.

“Yeah that’s true, I just really think hoodies are comfortable.”

I shake my head, “yeah I get it, but that doesn’t mean you have to burn up the whole night.”

He fake pouts, pulling up his hoodie, “Since we can’t change the temp, I guess you’re right.” He lifts it over his head, his shirt going with it up his abs. I roll my eyes. Did he really just have to flash me? “Anyway, here.” He goes into his room for a moment, coming back with a pillow. “Here’s an extra pillow, put a couple under your foot to keep it elevated.”

I take it from him, “Yeah I know…” My lips purse together, and I glance into my room.

“Try and get some sleep.” He smiles softly.

“Hey Jungkook.” I breathe through my nose, and he hums. “Nevermind. It’s stupid.” My door creaks as I push it open to leave.

“No- what?” He steps away from his room and toward me. Oh boy he’ll never let me live this down.

“It’s humiliating -I” A blush creeps up onto my cheeks out of embarrassment. He gets closer, trying to regain eye contact. “Jungkook.” I look away.

“Eunjae-” his fingers ghost over my chin, a hesitancy not hidden before his fingers clasp at my jaw. I swallow upon eye contact, his eyes scanning over my face. He winks, “Is this what it was like in your dream?” And then pulls away.

“J-” my brows furrow. “Why’d you do that?”

He raises a brow, “What were you going to ask me?”

I shake my head. “No, no you answer me first, Why’d you do that?”

He grins, “To tease you of course. Why else?” I glare at him, turning away. Not before he can grab my shoulder and flip me around. “No, what were you going to ask me?”

I push him away, “No you ruined it. You’ll never know.” His face drops into annoyance. “Goodnight Jungkook.” I smile, limping backwards.

“Eunjae I wanna know.” He whines as he always does, making me roll my eyes. “Please, I'd like to carry you around or something tomorrow… Just tell me.” He makes puppy dog eyes, hands folded together all prayer like.

“No you’ve embarrassed me enough.”

He groans, “I’ll buy your dinner too.”

I sigh, that is a pretty good deal. “I was gonna ask-” My shoulders drop, and I’m not really believing that I am actually saying it outloud. “I was gonna ask if we could hug.” I glare. “There.”

He stares at me for a second. “That’s what you were going to ask me?” He looks almost amused.

“See- I didn’t want to tell you.” I groan, my cheeks still flush. How embarrassing, why did I even say it out loud? “It’s stupid.”

“No really- is that what you were going to ask me?” He softly chuckles, “that’s cute-” I shake my head, turning into my room. “No really Eunjae-” He stops me. “Is that really what you were going to ask?”

“Yes!” I step backwards, my voice raised. “Why do you keep asking that? I just said it didn’t I?” Why does he have to humiliate me further?

He sighs, “Stop doing that thing where you misunderstand me and get mad.” He steps towards me again. “You’re yelling and going to wake Jin up.” I look towards the bedroom Jin was staying in. He is right. God he is right. “Yes we can hug that’s a dumb question.”

I frown, “It’s just- we never have before and-”

“Yeah I know.” He smiles, pulling me into his chest before I can protest. “It’s because you are so repulsed by me.” His voice vibrates into my hair. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

I shake my head, trapped in his arms. “No I- I wasn’t” I look up at him, brows knitted together. “I’m not.” The guilt is brought back up again. I don’t want him to remember that.

His eyes shine between those lashes, a grin plastered on his face. “Good.” his breath brushes over my face. “Cause it really sucked when I thought you did.”

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “It’s okay.” His eyes fall on my lips, is he thinking of actually kissing me or is he joking again? I blink, my eyes dropping to his chin. I could hug him tighter and say goodnight and then it would be over.

But his thumb drags against my cheek, pulling my eyes back up to his. Agonizingly slow, his head tilts to the side, his hair falling over his face. That tattooed hand sits against my back, holding me in his embrace. His heart is beating really fast, but it matches my own. Would he notice that? He takes a long deep breath, pressing his forehead against mine, my heart skipping a beat. Why isn’t he doing anything? Only his eye contact is consistent. I bite my gums, wanting to look away.

“I just want you to know that this time I’m not fucking around.” He whispers, leaning into my lips. His hand snakes around my neck, pulling me closer. His nose squishes against mine, lips soft and warm. The kiss I had missed in my dream. In an exhale he releases me from his tattooed arm. His eyes scan mine for a reaction.

I didn’t know what to say. “Good” is what comes from my mouth. Another dumb thing out of my lips. “I- I meant”

He laughs, “Thanks” he pinches my neck making me shrug away. Jungkook's lips meet my cheek.

“No I meant-” He shuts me up with another kiss, pulling me closer by my waist.

“Better than in your dream?” He smirks, eyeing me up and down.

“I meant that it’s-” Another kiss, his hand at the base of my neck, the other at my waist. He doesn’t let go so quickly this time. He smiles into the kiss. “Jungkook…”

“Okay,” he looks down at me, “go on.”

“I meant that it’s good that you aren’t fucking around.” I sigh, finally getting to breathe as well as speak. “I- why?”

“Why not?”

“I-”

He ruffles my hair, making me blush again. “I told you: I thought you were really cool. Mhmh. I do think that you’re really cool.”

“I didn’t think that was code for you wanting to kiss me.”

“You’re the one who had a dream about it.” he teases, “Now go to sleep, we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

The next day:

“God did you guys like fuck last night?” Jin looks disgusted at the two of us. I choke on my orange juice. Looking wildly between the two of them.

“Where the hell did you get that idea?” I say staring deep into my breakfast. Did he have to make it more awkward? I barely even knew what to do next after last night. What was that? Are we going to date? Is it going to be casual? Will it never happen again?

Jin squints, “Well, the tension in the room. I’m used to it with you too. But DAMN, it's never been so sexual.”

Jungkook snickers, swirling around his drink “No. No we did not. Just first base.” He winks and my mouth drops.

“Jungkook!” I throw a piece of toast at him, he really is going to expose us just like that?

He flinches, smiling. “I’m actually not sure what the bases are…”

Jin runs his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”

“Good.” I huff, biting into my breakfast. “All you need to know is the directions to the Acropolis.”

Like this? This is a one shot from my A Year of Fics with Han series found

here

Happy Jungkook day everyone !! :P

Greece is on fire click here for more information

y’all pls follow me 😭 i’m posting for joons bday as well and then i’m in a fest rn for bts abyss fest which will be on ao3!!

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 9

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

When she wakes, she momentarily can’t place where she is. The room is dim and there’s a soft whirring sound, a warm body tucked close against her back. Mulder’s apartment, she remembers. They’d decided to make it a double feature, collecting their clothes and switching out Mars Attacks for Twister. She must have drifted off at some point, with Mulder spooning her on the narrow couch, and the automatic rewind on the VCR kicked on when the movie ended. She pulls in a deep breath and his arm around her waist tightens momentarily.

“Stay,” he croaks from behind her, sounding as though he had also fallen asleep.

“I can’t, Mulder,” she replies, twisting her body around to face him, her nose pressed into his chest.

“Why?” he asks, brushing his palm up and down over her back.

“Because, I shouldn’t.” She knows her tone isn’t all that convincing.

“Says who?” he asks, though not indignantly.

“Says…I don’t know. Me, I guess,” she replies in a defeated tone.

He sighs, then pauses to consider his words.

“I don’t want to pressure you. But the idea of not seeing you again for a week kind of makes me want to die.” His words are soft and measured, communicating honesty, not frustration.

“That’s very dramatic,” she answers with a teasing lilt.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m pathetic.”

She worms up until she’s close enough to kiss him, pressing her lips to his cheek and then his mouth.

“You’re not pathetic,” she says tenderly, “you’re actually very sweet. I’ll make you a deal; I’m not going to stay the night,” she quirks a smile at his dramatic frown, “but we can get dinner tomorrow, and if you want to have coffee one day this week, you can come down.” She gives him a hopeful smile.

“That seems like a fair deal,” he says, kissing her forehead. “But if you get home, or wake up in the middle of the night, and realize you’ve made a horrible mistake, just call me. I’ll come right over.”

“I promise I will,” she says, then disentangles herself from his arms and collects her purse and shoes. She says goodbye to Priscilla, then bids a very long and very kiss-filled goodbye to Mulder before he finally releases his grip on her. As she waits for the elevator she hears the patter of his bare feet on the hallway floor and turns to see him skittering towards her, pulling her into one last kiss before he runs back to his apartment door, waving at her with a coy little smile.

Once she’s buckled into her car, she lets out a deep breath. She’d barely made it out of there; if Mulder had asked one more time, kissed her once more on the couch, she might have caved. Might have stayed the night, and might have done who knows what else. She can easily see the strong potential for this budding relationship to fast track to being more serious than she feels ready for, and it scares her. She’s never felt this strongly about anyone so soon after becoming involved with them. Clearly he has a strong pull on her, given that she cheated on Ethan with him, it’s just a lot, and she’s a person who likes to think clearly and make rational decisions. When she’s with Mulder, she loses the ability to think rationally.

When she’s home and tucked into bed, she does wish he were there, curled up behind her. Knowing she could call him and he’d be here in fifteen minutes is tempting, but she talks herself out of it. Not yet, not until she’s sure that this is more than just animal attraction. More than wanting to prove she didn’t destroy her relationship with Ethan over nothing.

It has to be more. And she suspects that it will be.

———

“Okay, spill it,” Missy says, and Dana looks at her with a mildly shocked expression, not even having fully taken her seat at the cafe with a mocha in hand before Missy gets down to business.

“Hello to you, too, Missy. How was your evening?” she asks her sister with a facetious tone.

“I hung around by myself and wondered what kind of action my little sister was getting that I wasn’t, so please, indulge me.”

Dana laughs and shakes her head, debating how much detail to give.

“It was nice, we just watched a couple movies, ate pizza, drank beer.”

“...and?” Missy asks expectantly.

“...and, we watched Mars Attacks and Twister,” Dana answers, knowing that this is not the information Missy is asking for.

Missy drops her head to the side with a frustrated glare. “Dana, quit being a prude, or I’ll just make up my own story and tell it to you right here in the coffee shop, I know you’d love that.”

Dana makes a face. “Okay, fine. Yes, we...fooled around. But we didn’t have sex.”

“Really, why not?” Missy questions incredulously.

“Missy, it’s not that abnormal not to sleep with someone on the second date,” Dana retorts with an annoyed tone.

“It is if they’ve already gone down on you and you’ve been obsessing over them for almost a year,” Missy shoots back.

“Well, regardless of your unsolicited opinion,” Dana replies, “emphasis on unsolicited, I’m choosing to wait a bit, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Fine, whatever floats your boat, Sis. Please elaborate on ‘fooled around’.”

Dana scoffs. “We...kissed, and some other things. Why are you asking for all this detail, Missy? I don’t recall you ever asking me to be this explicit regarding my sex life with Ethan.”

Missy rolls her eyes. “I’m willing to bet Ethan was into missionary with the lights off. This Mulder guy has serious sexual energy, he seems like the kind of man who knows what he’s doing. When’s his birthday?”

Scully frowns at the memory. “October 13th,” she answers flatly.

Missy shoots her a surprised expression, but suppresses it quickly. “Oh, wow, okay. Um, so he’s a libra. That’s a good thing, libras are very generous lovers.”

“I have seen evidence of that, however my pants stayed on last night so nothing to report in that respect,” Dana answers, taking a sip of her coffee to avoid looking at her sister.

“But his didn’t?” Missy asks with a smirk, and Dana purses her lips but doesn’t respond. It’s as good as saying yes.

“Dana Katherine Scully,” Missy teases with a knowing smile. “Some things never change.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dana asks defensively.

“Oh please, Dana, we went to the same school, you don’t think I heard the story about you and Marcus behind the gymnasium?”

Dana’s mouth hangs open in shock.

“Well, I hope he enjoyed his favor being reciprocated nine months later,” Missy continues, then adds “did you swallow?”

Her mouth drops open wider and she slaps Missy gently on the upper arm. “Melissa, don’t be gross!”

Missy is giggling and swatting her away. “You know what Dad always said, Dana, ‘a Scully sees it through to the end!’” She crosses her arms over her face in self-defense as Dana peppers her with little slaps, though they’re both laughing.

Finally, the tittering subsides and they are both back in their respective seats, catching their breath.

“So when are you seeing him again?” Missy asks, tucking her feet underneath her legs.

“Tonight, actually.” Dana answers self-consciously.

“Oh really? So soon?”

“Well he practically begged me to stay the night and said he didn’t want to wait until next weekend, so it was somewhat of a compromise,” Dana answers, the arrangement sounding like a red flag to her own ears.

“Dang, he’s got it bad,” Missy remarks with a little frown. “Is it too much? Are you doing that thing?”

“What thing?” Dana asks defensively.

“That thing where you get overwhelmed when someone is really interested in you and you sabotage it?” Missy ventures.

Dana furrows her eyebrows. “I don’t do that,” she says, but her tone suggests that she may not believe herself. “I just don’t want to get all caught up in the excitement of a new relationship and not look at things objectively,” she finishes.

“You know,” Missy says helpfully, “that exciting new relationship, not thinking clearly, crazy in love feeling is something most people like, Sis.”

Dana shrugs. “You know me,” she says plainly, “I’m not really one for excitement.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that Mulder is going to put that to the test,” Missy retorts with a smile, and Dana cringes.

“I think you may be right.”

———

Her demeanor when he picks her up for dinner seems just a bit guarded and is markedly different than it had been when they parted ways last night. He brushes it off, figuring that things between them are still new and awkward, and recognizing that he’s probably coming on just a little too strong.

The day has been grey and cool, and she’s wearing jeans and an oversized blue sweater, her hair pulled half up into a little bun. He smiles warmly at her, but stops short of telling her how amazing she looks, sensing that she might not want to hear it. They make their way to a little Mexican place near her house and she is polite but quiet as they order, munching on chips and salsa with a pensive expression.

“Are you okay?” he asks cautiously, and she nods. “I’m freaking you out, aren’t I?” he adds, and she shakes her head gently, but looks at him with wide eyes from beneath her lashes, and he knows it’s true.

He sits back, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Is it the sex part or the feelings part?” he questions, and when her eyebrows lift in surprise he suggests “Both?”

She laughs softly and shakes her head. “It’s really not you, Mulder, it’s me. I’m just not very comfortable with the whole,” she swirls her wrist around in the air, “whirlwind feeling, when things are new.”

He leans forward on his elbows and looks at her seriously. “Tell me what you need me to do differently, Scully, and I promise I’ll do it.”

“Maybe just...don’t act as though I hung the moon?” she offers with a pained expression. “I’m just a human person like anyone else, faults and all. It makes me worry that when you really get to know me you won’t like what you find.”

He gives her an amused smirk. “At the risk of further idolizing you, what’s not to like?”

“You want me to write a list?” She asks, returning his smirk, and he gives her a half shrug, half nod. “Well, if I’m basing this on what my family, friends, and past partners might say; I’m very rigid in my thinking on most matters, take myself far too seriously, am emotionally distant much of the time, don’t really know how to have fun and...I cannot carry a tune in a bucket. Basically I’m a total stick in the mud.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, smiling at her. Her self-consciousness is wildly endearing.

“Okay now you have to go,” she says, picking at her paper napkin.

“Oh, what are my worst qualities?” he clarifies, “Jeez, this could take a while. Um, I’m very singularly focused, as in whatever I’m chasing down at the moment I become completely obsessed with to the detriment of all other things in my life,” he casts her a little glance to confirm that she understands that this is what he’s doing with her, which she does.

“I’m a workaholic, though that’s a lot easier to manage when I’m not all that invested in what I’m working on. I’m terrible with things like birthdays, anniversaries, or generally sentimental things, I just forget them completely. I’m also persistent to a fault, and have a hard time letting things, and people, go, even when I should,” he looks at her again, and she gives him a tight-lipped smile. His worst qualities are the ones that are at risk of scaring her off right now.

“Well then, perhaps,” Scully offers, “I’ll work on not trying to shut you out, and you can work on not trying quite so hard to get in.”

“We’re still talking about feelings here, right?” he jokes, and she rolls her eyes.

“There’s another flaw I forgot, making jokes at completely inappropriate times.”

She smiles at him, with teeth, and he knows they’ll be okay. He needs to be mindful, but he hasn’t totally fucked it up yet.

The rest of their meal goes without incident. He talks about spontaneous human combustion while she calmly explains why it’s medically and scientifically impossible. The way she can disagree with him without talking to him like he’s a lunatic endears to him even further, but he works hard not to let it show. When the waiter comes by and asks about dessert, she shakes her head.

“I have ice cream at home,” she says after the waiter leaves, “saves us five bucks.”

He masks the surprise and delight he feels knowing she’s essentially just invited him back to her apartment, and absolutely does not allow himself to hope that she’ll let him stay the night. It’s a work night after all, and she’s just made clear that she has a tendency towards rules and guidelines; sleepovers on a school night seem like something she’d be against.

Back at her apartment, she gives him a quick tour, having neglected to do so when he was here last week, and he’s impressed though not surprised by how grown up and clean her place is. It matches her personality perfectly, and that makes him like the place immediately.

She opens the freezer and pulls out a pint of ice cream, then retrieves two spoons and hops up on to the counter, which brings them just about face to face height-wise. The cold blast from the open freezer has hardened her nipples and he avoids looking as they pass the pint back and forth, taking alternate bites and talking about their favorite and least favorite flavors. Soon enough, the tub is empty, and she sets it and the two spoons to the side, leaning back against the cupboard behind her. He steps closer into the space between her thighs and places his hands gently on her hips.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks in a neutral tone, not wanting to sound like he’s trying to persuade her.

She quirks her mouth to the side in consideration. “Maybe not just yet,” she says, then hooks her legs around the backs of his thighs and pulls him closer.

He suppresses a victorious smile and instead leans forward to kiss her, simultaneously slipping his hands under the hem of her sweater. She jumps a little at the contact, and he realizes how cold his fingers must be from the ice cream. He pulls his hands free, rubbing them together briskly in the space between their bodies as he continues to kiss her smiling mouth. When he’s satisfied that they are warm, he returns them to her bare sides and she hums in approval. Her hands find the back of his neck, scratching through his hair as his fingers trail their way up the ladder of her rib cage until they meet with the soft underside of her bare breasts. He wants to make mention of the lack of bra, but isn’t sure if calling attention to it would make her self conscious, so he says nothing and just enjoys it. Brushing his thumbs along the seam where chest becomes breast, he moves to kiss down her neck, teasing at the skin behind her ear with the firm tip of his tongue. Finding the spot she seems to like the best, he then runs his thumbs up until they meet with her hardened nipples and she emits a little moan that goes straight to his dick. He stays on this particular combination of rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger while licking and kissing her neck until she’s tightening the grip of her legs around his hips, seeking friction. He pushes the fabric of her sweater up slowly enough that she has plenty of time to tell him if she wants to stop, but once her breasts are exposed and his mouth is wrapped around one of her nipples, he is absolutely sure that she doesn’t. She lets her head fall back against the cupboard, breathing hard through her open mouth. He brings the fingers of one hand to the button on her jeans, then pauses.

“Okay?” he asks around the nipple between his lips, and she hums out an “mmmhmmm.”

Flicking the button open and easing the fly down, he slips his hand palm-up under her panties, drifting down through her neatly trimmed hair and into the slick heat of her. She’s deliciously wet, and knowing he caused it makes him feel weak in the knees as he rubs his groin against the edge of the counter, even more turned on than he had been before. He slides his fingers up and down over her swollen lips, his tongue still lapping and sucking at her nipples alternately, and she is panting and quaking beneath him, hips writhing and fingers digging into his neck telling him that she wants more. He circles his dampened thumb around her clit and she whimpers, clutching his head to her chest. His middle finger finds her entrance and swirls around it, not quite entering, and she stills, waiting, anticipating. When he continues with his same teasing movements, she lets out a frustrated breath and speaks.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice pained.

He smiles against her breast, slipping his finger inside, and she moans low and long, throbbing once around him. He experiments with different ways of touching her, inside and out, and soon she’s gasping and breathing raggedly, flexing her hips into his hand, nearly suffocating him with her breast in his mouth and he feels like he’s in heaven.

“Oh god,” she moans, then goes still for a long moment as he feels her walls clench tight around his finger. Then she’s coming, throbbing rhythmically and pulling his face up to kiss her, pouring her blissful moans right into his open mouth and clutching him as close as he can get with one hand in her pants. Finally, she touches his wrist gently and he pulls his hand free, enveloping her fully in his arms as they kiss with just as much passion as they started with.

“That really wasn’t what I had in mind when I suggested ice cream,” she says against his mouth, and he smiles, breaking the kiss.

“So that wasn’t some kind of ‘dessert’ double entendre?” he asks, pulling back slightly and looking at her flushed cheeks and still-dilated pupils.

“No, but I’m not exactly devastated that you interpreted it that way,” she replies with a playful lilt.

“So...what now?” he asks cautiously, neither wanting to overstay his welcome nor do what Frohike delicately calls ‘hit it and quit it.’

She bites her lip and considers the question. “You wanna hang out for a bit and watch TV? I’ll have to kick you out at 9:00, it being a school night and all.”

He feels his mouth stretch into a broad smile at the confirmation of his suspicion that she calls it early on work nights.

“Sounds perfect,” he replies, then steps back so she can jump down from the counter, re-fastening her jeans while casting him a mirthful glance.

They snuggle up on the couch and half-watch whatever is on, but mostly they talk, and kiss, and laugh. He finally asks her about the little gold cross necklace she’s always wearing, and he finds himself further enamored with how complex she is; a woman of science and religion, beautiful and strong, smart and fun. He’s working hard to temper his expression of it, but if he was only ninety-five percent sure he was in love with her when he said it back in August, he is one-hundred-twenty percent sure now.

True to her word, she kicks him out at 9:00 and promises that they will get together for coffee this week once she takes a look at her autopsy schedule and knows which days she’s free.

Once in his car, he drops his head against the back of the seat with a satisfied sigh. All week at work, his colleagues will ask him what he’s smiling about, and he’ll tell them truthfully that he’s just really, really happy.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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defdaily · 3 years

Text

GQ Korea Magazine June 2021 issue featuring JAY B: in transition

To prove himself, JAY B is constantly changing. Because he has so much to show.

Translated by defdaily

Your greeting from the video earlier was new. You said “This is GOT7’s JAY B and H1GHR MUSIC’s JAY B.” After GOT7 parted ways with JYP Entertainment, you told fans that you were a freelancer and I guess you’ve found your spot.

Yes. It has not been announced officially yet but I’m H1GHR MUSIC’s JAY B. I told fans I was a freelancer as a joke. I like communicating with fans as if we’re friends. But I was looking for a company at that time too.

How did you make your decision?

Of course I thought about it a lot. I talked with various companies, but when considering the freedom and synergy, I felt like H1GHR MUSIC fit me well. That seemed like the best decision.

What kind of synergy and effect are you looking forward to?

I don’t think “I’m definitely hip-hop!” just because I joined a hip-hop label. I think that through the label I can show R&B, dance and pop genres too. I want to attempt different things without any boundaries.

What did you talk about with H1GHR MUSIC’s CEO Jay Park?

From my point of view, it’s a new challenge so I was a little anxious. But Jay Bum hyung’s thoughts were similar to mine and said I could do music comfortably and didn’t wish for any certain colour, because if you keep focusing on one thing, you’ll slowly be locked in it, and said it’s good to try out different things. That’s what he told me.

Will this period of time divide JAY B of the past and future?

Of course it will. If previously it was a situation where I mainly received benefits from the company, now that I have the autonomy, I feel that I should do things myself and I grew a deeper sense of responsibility in that way. I think there’s a need to be more proactive. And I plan on prudently moving forward one step at a time with an appropriate amount of nervousness. Because this is the process of starting from the beginning, I am very careful about every decision.

What factors influenced your decision the most?

Feeling/intuition. I have a feeling of whether I think I should do something or not.

It feels like you have a pretty good sense of the direction you want to move forward in.

I asked Jay Bum hyung why he recruited me and he said that skills were of course a factor but that I seemed like I would work hard consistently. It’s a given to be working hard on your own things but the most important thing is consistency. I've been doing that for a long time, and I'll continue to do what I've been doing.

Do you have any values that you’ve held on for a long time?

I’ve always thought that it’s important to never forget the things that I’ve done and have been doing. I debuted as GOT7. I cannot just suddenly say “I’m not an idol,” and I do not want to disappoint the fans. I’m very thankful. While promoting as part of GOT7, I never forgot the fact that I started as a b-boy at first and that I’m a person who likes hip-hop.

People’s expectations are high because of GOT7’s achievements. On one hand, there must be people viewing you thinking ‘let's see how well it could go.’

I am mindful of that. But it’s just GOT7 JB that was that big, JAY B as an individual isn’t that great. To be honest, sometimes I think that I’m nothing. If you ask people my age which idols they know, even if many people know about GOT7, they might not know me very well. It’s important to be acknowledged for my music but I feel like I have to get my name out there first. There is someone called GOT7’s JAY B, H1GHR MUSIC’s JAY B. I feel like this is just the beginning for me.

It sounds like you are at a point where you feel the need to prove yourself. Do you not worry that fans might not be accepting if you do what you like and want to do?

Rather than being worried, I see it as something that could happen. For example, I could use profanity or harsh expressions if I feel that they’re needed for better musical completion. I can’t help it if some fans who used to like me as an idol hear that and turn their backs. I also don’t want to give up or lose my own standards because of such reactions.

I see you're very determined to make creations of your own. I heard that you're going to release a new song soon. How is it?

The title is Switch It Up. Should I say it’s close to Hip-Hop Dance? It’s a different style from what I have been making consistently under the name Def. You could say it is a little similar to the solo songs I’ve included in GOT7 albums before. I focused on the purpose of informing the public and the music scene that “I think I will do this sort of music in the future." I’m also sending a message to fans saying that I’ll be starting to promote actively again so look forward to it.

I'm curious. Is there any image that came to mind while working on it?

A sexy image. If I use Def. to freely express my personal stories in any genre, I made a distinction that JAY B does cool and sexy music. Regardless, they are both me, but JAY B is more like a fictional character who can show various sides of me.

What do you think are your strengths as an artist?

There is no such thing. I never thought that an artist should be a certain type of way. I think an artist is one who lives the same life as others, but feels differently, and knows how to express that well. As a matter of fact, anyone can do that. Even everyday office workers, when their stress piles and piles and they scribble down their emotions then toss the paper out, I think that can be a way of art too.

I like that. In any form, what do you want to talk about the most now?

That’s what I’m contemplating a lot right now. I think I’ve been pouring out too much. When writing songs, making the melody or arranging the music isn’t that hard but I don’t know what to write about. The same goes for coming up with titles too. No matter how hard I try to come up with an idea, I can’t think of one. I just think, “ I guess it'll just come out gradually.”

Not as JAY B but as Lim Jaebeom, what have you been thinking about or trying to do?

I try to think positively.

Ah not long ago, we saw you posted on your Instagram “Let’s try to think positively.”

I had quite a lot of worries and a negative mindset. A lot of people may live with unnecessary worries but I’m a little worse. I guess it’s my nature. So I try my best to relax my heart/mind and say “it’s good,” “everything will be okay.”

In introspection, what is something that you are most satisfied with?

That’s hard. No matter how hard I think about it, I feel like there's nothing I like about myself at the moment.

Why? Did something change?

No, it’s not that. Even with one thing, one day you could like it and another day you could dislike it. It’s natural to change your mind. So when I speak, I often use the terms “always” and “at the moment.” Anyways, it’s not that I think that my current self is completely bad, but I’m not satisfied to the point where I would go “wow.”

Then, among the various images that you embody, which do you feel is the piece of clothing that fits perfectly?

I think naturally, the clothing of the name Lim Jaebeom is the most natural and comfortable. Because I’ve got a good hold of the side that is most like me, there can exist Def., JAY B of GOT7 and JAY B of H1GHR MUSIC. Oh, I could explain it like this. If Lim Jaebeom is the earth, just as there exists oceans, mountains, and cities within it, there are various sides of myself that are making up my life.

What will happen to GOT7 in the future?

We probably will not be able to promote as actively as before, but the members and I are trying our best to do anything. I often look up and watch videos of when we were promoting and I miss the GOT7 from those days. The overflowing passion and energy as well. Looking back, it was really fun. It's similar to the feeling of reminiscing about school days.

What did you gain personally from the past 7 years promoting as GOT7?

Should I say, I think I’ve gained expertise? People around me say I’ve become much more relaxed now. But I still get nervous. I was nervous even before today’s shoot. But in turn, I’ve gained ways to overcome the nerves. I guess that comes to show that I’ve become experienced

What kind of person does Lim Jaebeom want to be?

I wish I could be endlessly kind and do only good things, but in reality, that’s impossible. As you live you could unintentionally make mistakes and cause disappointment. Nevertheless, I definitely do not want to become a shrewd person, I despise being scheming and fooling people. I don’t want to be that kind of person and neither do I want to be on the receiving end. But it’s still a bit of a mystery if it’s okay to say "I'm going to be this kind of person." Because as I mentioned before, my current feelings and thoughts change frequently just as trends do.

I guess those words right there can change too.

That’s right. That's why I'm cautious about doing interviews. If I talk about something, there will be articles pouring out that say JAY B said this and JAY B said that. Although we’re doing an interview today like this, if I was asked the same question tomorrow, I could have a different response.

How should we wrap up this interview for you to sleep soundly?

This was the story of Lim Jaebeom on May 4th, 2021. I think this will be okay.

Translated by defdaily.

#def.#jaebeom #defdaily #lim jaebeom #defdaily:trans #got7 #got7 jb #interviewtrans #jay b

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domesticmail · 4 years

Text

the one where you and mat become parents

a/n: starts as angst, ends as fluff!!! this was supposed to be a blurb but i got really carried away aksjfahskdjfhdskfjh, 2.3k words about u and mat trying to have a baby!!

shameless plug: go read my other hockey stuff here!

warnings: there is a little bit of internalized sexism for a second, so just beware!!

Your eyes brimmed with tears, hands shaking. The test quivered between your fingers, the sole focus of your attention, the cause of the anger and disappointment writhing in knots in your stomach. Your expression turned bitter as you looked away, biting your lips to keep the tears back, refusing to acknowledge the single blue line glaring back at you.

“Honey?” Mat put a hand on your waist. He came up behind you, peered around your body at the tiny test you were gripping, white-knuckled.

You felt him exhale heavily, his arms enveloping your waist. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

You dropped the test and turned in your husband’s arms, pressed your face into his shirt and started to cry, tears streaming down your face. “It’s not okay!” You cried. “It’s not, Mat, we want a baby!”

“I know, we do,” he said gently, moving one hand to pet your hair. He laid a kiss to the crown of your head. “We want a baby.”

“And I can’t give you one,” you said bitterly. You weakened in his embrace, leaned all of your weight against him and sighed.

Shocked, Mat pulled away from you. He wiped your cheeks with both thumbs, cupping your face in his hands. “You don’t need to give me a baby to make me happy,” he insisted. “You’re perfect, with or without a baby.”

“But you want - “ You began, but Mat cut you off, raising an eyebrow.

“If we want a baby, we will try again.” He put a hand under your chin. You met his gaze with weak eyes. “There’s no you or me in this situation. It’s us. We’re a team, remember? Any decision we make - if we want a baby, if we don’t, if we want to adopt, whatever - will be a team decision, yeah? Say it with me. Making a baby is a Team Barzal decision.”

“Making a baby is a team decision,” you murmured, sniffling.

“No, no, it’s a Team Barzal decision.”

“Mat - “

He shook his head. “This is important.”

You sighed, looking away. He used his hand on your chin to make you look at him, gently guiding you back to face him. “You have to say it, babe. It’s my new thing.”

Another heavy sigh. “It’s a Team Barzal decision.”

Your husband’s face lit up in a grin, clearly pleased. “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

You sniffled grossly in response. Your nose was clogged now, head all stuffy, and your voice was all throaty and hoarse, so you sounded a bit like you had a cold when you said, “Do we want to try again?”

“My half of the team is ready to try again. Is your half?”

You opened your mouth to say yes, but hesitated. Seeing that one blue line - that negative, your nightmare, - had killed you a little bit. You had been so nervous, so excited when your period had been late, you guys hadn’t even been trying but hey, you were financially stable, you felt like maybe, possibly, hopefully, you were ready for a baby! Mat had been ecstatic when you told him, had ran to the store almost immediately, those puppy-dog brown eyes full of joy and affection, looking at you like you were the only person on the planet.

You nearly crumbled when you saw that line, felt like you were going to fall over and dissipate into the wood floor of the hallway, just a pile of ashes. You were so excited, so ready, you hadn’t even known you’d wanted a baby until it’d been a possibility, and now you were exhausted.

Mat watched you hesitate and added, “We don’t have to try again. If your half isn’t ready, we’re not trying again.”

Your heart had broken and you hadn’t even been trying. How painful would it be then? If you were trying?

Could you take that feeling, that sinking, crumbling, breaking, shattering feeling? Were you that strong?

The short answer was you could, and you were.

You did it again and again and again, three more times, and each time it killed you a little less.

And then, finally.

After the fourth test, you told Mat you’d try naturally one more time. If it didn’t work, then maybe it was time to have a conversation about where you wanted to go next - “Where Team Barzal goes next,” you’d said, smiling weakly, trying to make it a joke but only halfway succeeding.

He’d done what he’d always done, smiled and nodded and told you he’d love you no matter what, that he’d be there for you regardless of what happened. “Your body, your rules, baby,” was his favorite phrase recently.

You were lucky to love someone so kind, so selfless. You knew he wanted kids, wanted to see little baby Barzals running around, clinging to his feet, begging him to make pancakes even though he just made waffles for them two minutes ago - so maybe if the fifth try didn’t work out, you’d go to IVF. That wouldn’t be bad, you hoped, but you’d had an aunt who was on IVF, and it had taken her three rounds to get pregnant. Two of those times, you know, she’d had her heart broken.

That was the aunt you’d watched tear herself apart over not being able to have kids. She was so ashamed, she didn’t even want you to bring it up to your cousin - that was absolutely forbidden. She was afraid it would make him feel bad. As if he cared.

Your mom had made sure to not pressure you to have kids after that. You’d only been thirteen, but she’d started asking you more about careers and college and post-grad plans than kids and a family, hoping, if you went down your aunt’s path, you wouldn’t beat yourself up over it. “Kids and a family are good for people who want kids and a family,” you remember her proclaiming to you at the dinner table. “If you don’t want kids, you don’t have to have them. It’s your body, Y/N. Not having kids doesn’t make you any less of a woman.”

To her credit, she’d tried really hard.

When you went to the doctor for your fifth try, to see if this was the one that would pan out, you tried not to get your hopes up. You sat quietly in the passenger seat of the Team Barzal Toyota camry, wishing Mat could’ve been here. He was pulled away, on the road for a few days - insisting every morning, without fail, that you call him, tell him if you felt different, and reminding you every day, “I love you no matter what.” You were going to wait until he came home - tomorrow - to tell him the news, good or bad. You wanted it to be in-person.

You didn’t want to go to the appointment alone, so you asked Mat who he wanted to go in your place. You offered up your own sister, but he refused - there was only one person he would trust to go.

So that’s why Tito was driving you to the hospital. Mat had clarified for him - “If you’re in that room and not me, I’ll kill you,” being the warning he chose - that he would simply wait outside the office in the waiting room, to be there for emotional support. If you weren’t pregnant, you had somebody there to hold you. If you were, you had someone to talk to, to help you prepare. But under no circumstances was he allowed to say anything to Mat. He was to keep silent on all fronts.

Tito was quiet in the front seat, letting the radio play softly.

All you were thinking was, “Not having kids doesn’t make you any less of a woman.” Over and over and over again.

Walking into the doctor’s office, you felt your heartbeat quicken. After checking in (and an uncomfortable conversation with the front desk woman about how no, Tito wouldn’t be coming back with you, he’s not your husband), your husband’s best friend gave you a hug. “I’m here if you need me, okay?”

You nodded. “Thank you, Tito. Really.”

He hugged you again, harder this time, then let you go and took his place in the room. A nurse came out and called your name; you followed her back.

The same doctor from last time appeared after the initial check-up procedure. “Mrs. Barzal, nice to see you again!” He greeted.

“Good to see you too, Dr. Green.” You smiled nervously.

“Mat not with us today?”

“No, just me.”

“Okay. Julie already handled all the formalities, and you’ve done this before, so this should all be old hat, right?”

You nodded.

“Fantastic.” He handed you the cup and gestured to the bathroom. “I’ll leave, let you get situated, and I’ll be back in a couple minutes, yeah?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, you handed him back the cup, he took it and left the room, and you sat quietly on the examination bed, hands folded in your lap. The only noise you could hear was your heart pounding in your chest, slamming against your ribcage. You gave yourself a mental pep talk: “You’re not any less of a woman if you don’t have kids. Mat will still love you. If the team,” - that’s what you’d taken to calling the two of you, your marriage, the team - “wants to keep trying, we’ll talk about IVF and maybe try that. And anyways, there’s always adoption -”

Three knocks on the door. “Ms. Y/N?”

“Come on in,” you said.

Dr. Green entered, holding his signature clipboard in one hand. “Well, I know this was our fifth try, right?”

You nodded, feeling like someone had dropped a lead ball in your gut.

“Usually by now couples have gone to IVF, which, admittedly, is a tough process, and can be a lot of waiting. For some couples it doesn’t even work, which is a whole different heartbreak - oh, I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

You looked at him expectantly, gave a weak smile. “No worries.”

He peered over his glasses at you. “Most couples go to IVF, but...I’d say you should be glad you kept trying.”

And just like that, you felt weightless. The lead ball in your stomach disappeared. You felt your heart nearly burst, oh my god, you were pregnant, you’re gonna have a baby, you and Mat are gonna have a child, a little kid, a baby - and then your brain reminded you, “He didn’t say you were having a baby.”

Shit.

“Dr. Green,” you said carefully, trying to suppress a grin. “Am I pregnant?”

The man grinned. “I’m happy to inform you, dear, you are pregnant.”

You burst into tears and laughter, a smile lighting up your features. You raised your hands and yelled to the doctor, “We’re having a baby!”

He chuckled. “You’re having a baby!”

You walked into the waiting room and grinned at Tito, who picked you up in a hug. “Congrats, Y/N! That’s great news!”

The drive home was full of excitement, you and Tito rambling over each other about how happy Mat was gonna be, how he was gonna freak out, you were gonna have to buy baby stuff, would Tito help baby-proof the house? Would he babysit? Was he okay with ‘Uncle Tito’ or did he want to just be ‘Tito’ instead? Planning, questioning, wondering, everything, every emotion was in the front of the car that day. Needless to say, you were ecstatic.

Mat, on the other hand, was dying. He wanted - no, he needed to know if he was having a baby. Was there gonna be a little Barzal around in nine months? Was he gonna be a dad? The suspense was killing him.

When he finally came home, he burst through the front door with no warning, dropping his bags on the ground. He didn’t even wait to take his shoes off, just headed right for the bedroom, where he thought you’d be - where you weren’t.

You were in the kitchen, watching your husband run at breakneck speed to the room. “In the kitchen, honey,” you called after him.

He peeked his head out of the doorway, saw you standing at the island, cutting tomatoes for a salad. Took a few tentative steps towards you, hesitant, not wanting to be too excited but so nervous, so ready, let this be the one, please - he looked at you with pleading eyes. “So?”

“So…? How was the trip?” You asked, not looking him in the eye. You knew if you did, you’d give it away instantly. You wanted to hold onto the apprehension for just a little longer.

“Who cares about how the trip went,” he groaned. “Are you…?”

“Am I what?”

“Y/N! Are you pregnant?” He asked, breathless. “Are we having a baby?”

You met his gaze slowly, a grin forming on your features. “Mat,” you said quietly. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

“I’m gonna be a dad?” His hands went straight to his hair, elbows up, eyes wide. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

You laughed, smiling big. “You’re gonna be a dad, honey!”

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby!” He yelled. “Y/N, we’re gonna be parents, we’re having a baby!” He laughed loudly, running and enveloping you in his arms. He planted a kiss on your forehead, then your lips. “We’re having a baby!”

“We’re gonna be parents,” you giggled, cupping his jaw with one hand.

Those puppy-dog eyes looked into yours again, like he was trying to show you just how much he loved you with only his gaze. “I love you, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too, Maty.”

He exhaled hard, then grinned. “We’re gonna be the best parents.”

tagging my mat simps lol I love u guys. @starkeybabie @heypope @fav-imagines @young-beezy @brock-mcginny @softstarkey @mtkachuk

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #husband!barzy #husband!mat barzal #pregnant!reader

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petersasteria · 3 years

Text

Love Documentary - Harry Holland

Harry || Main || Taglist

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Requested? Nah.

3,470 words

TW; one mention of death, heartbreaking

* * * *

“Hi everyone! I’m Harry Holland and what you’re about to see, are short interviews that I did with people as I ask about what great love really is. Sit back, relax, and enjoy this love-filled journey.”

“Are you ready?” Harry asked and the old couple looked at him and nodded with a smile. Harry smiled too and started filming them. “So, how did you two meet?”

“We were childhood best friends.” The old man smiled as he reminisced the early days of his childhood. “I was a hopeless romantic and she wasn’t, but it all worked out in the end.”

“He was really cheesy.” The old man’s wife added with a laugh, causing Harry to laugh too. “He recited lines from movies just to get me to be with him. It was like he knew that we’d end up together.”

“Did the lines work?” Harry asked.

“They didn’t, but look where we are now.” The old lady smiled at her husband.

“We’ve been married for 60 years.” The old man proudly said.

“Are you each other’s greatest love?” Harry asked.

“I’d say we are.” The old man responded as the old lady nodded in agreement.

“We are.”

“So, for you, what is great love?” Harry asked. That was the important question. He needed that to be answered.

“Great love is loving someone unconditionally. No matter what happens between the two of you, you’ll still love them.” The old lady answered. “Right?” She looked at her husband.

“Right.”

Harry sits behind the camera as he watches the old man sit comfortably in his seat. The old man nods at Harry, signaling that he’s ready to be interviewed. Harry smiled softly and started recording.

“Please tell me your name, sir.”

“My name is Henry and I’m 82 years old.” Henry, the old man, said. Harry nodded before looking down on his notebook to write Henry’s name and age. After doing so, he read the question that he wrote there earlier.

“Who is your great love?” Harry asked.

“That’s easy; it’s my wife.” Henry answered with a sweet smile. “She’s the loveliest person you’ll ever meet and she makes the most delicious pancakes from scratch.”

“She sounds lovely.” Harry smiled. “How long have you two been married?”

“55 years this year, but this will be the first time I’ll be celebrating without her. She passed away.” Henry shared. The sadness was evident in his eyes and it made Harry sad.

“How did you two meet?”

“We met at a car repair shop. She was the mechanic and I was there getting my car fixed. She was the only girl I’ve ever been with and I have no regrets. Everyday, she loved me like there was no tomorrow. No one’s ever loved me like that and I will forever yearn for it.” Henry said, not bothering to wipe the tears streaming down his face.

“And, what’s great love for you?” Harry asked.

“For me, great love is being an all in one person for your one and only person. You’re the best friend, the sidekick, the lover; everything. When you meet your great love, you wouldn’t find anyone else.” Henry answered.

“Hi! I’m Harry Holland and I’m just popping in to say that the elderly know so much about great love. So, I asked the youth what they think is great love.”

For you, what is great love?

“I’m Amaranthine LaSpina and I’m 21 years old. They say that great love is what Jesus did for us, but I don’t know about that since I don’t believe in things like that. But in my opinion, great love doesn’t necessarily mean ‘romantic love’. It can take on many forms like friendship, family, etc. The constant factor is that they are people who care for you regardless of the decisions you made and will make. They offer you their full opinions without bias, and still support you even though you go on a different path. In summary, they want what they think is best for you without being control freaks.”

“Hiii, I’m Jaemren and I’m 15 years old. For me, great love means having an instinct, of some sort, to treat someone as part of your family even though you’re in a relationship with them or if they’re just a friend or if they’re an artist who doesn’t know you exist. You will have the sudden urge to protect them at all cost because you don’t want them to get hurt. Because if they get hurt, you feel their pain; you feel like you’re getting hurt too. Of course, you will correct them when they’re wrong and you’ll be comfortable around them because you feel at home when you’re with them, y’know? Like, there’s warmth. Great love is treasuring someone you don’t want to lose in your life and in terms of feeling it, I think reassurance is the best way.”

“Betty Montefalco, here! I’m 20 years old now and great love will always be there. It’ll always fight for you- in fact, it never slept without an argument. It’s great, it’s explosive, it’s annihilating, it could be exhausting, but at the end of the day- it’s what you want and it’s what you go back to. Even when you’re not in that headspace or happenstance anymore, it’s yearning for someone for the rest of your life; consciously, subconsciously, or unconsciously. If you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll get to see the greatness endure and eventually flourish in this lifetime. If not, I believe you get to have that love elsewhere. Maybe in another lifetime or in a mirrored universe. I believe the people we yearn for were put in our lives for a reason and none of these people go to waste. I try to remind myself that everyday and that not everything’s figured out yet.”

“I’m Lucas and I’m 18 years old. For me, great love just boils down to understanding a person to the deepest level. It doesn’t even need to be exclusive to a romantic kind of love. True love, for me, is knowing the person in every situation. I don’t mean that the person knows your favorites or knows your deepest, darkest secrets. Knowing the person in every situation is knowing how to talk to you in times of your happiness, knowing how to keep you happy, and knowing how to be there for you in tough times without being intrusive or anything. They can sense when something is wrong about you or if you’re feeling off and they really know how to help you. They don’t even need to be your lovers or even best friends. It takes a certain kind of empathy to be able to understand someone’s emotion so well and knowing how to help you with those emotions is what I believe to be the greatest kind of love one can show to another.”

“HAHAHA, great love??? I haven’t experienced that yet. I only have my firsts, but I don’t consider them my great loves. My expectation is that hopefully we’re in the same wavelength-ish. To me, it doesn’t matter how they will be. Hopefully no sacrifices will be made. You can get great love from your friends and family. Like, you do stuff for them just because you love them. Oh, I’m 21 years old and my name is Hebe. It’s pronounced like ‘Phoebe’.”

“I’m Alessandra; 21 years old. Honestly, I don’t know what great love is. But I guess it’s something that makes someone’s world meaningful. Crushes come and go, but great love stays.”

“I’m 18 years old and my name is Dash. Great love is where you can experience the good and bad without ever getting tired nor ever get sick of the person. It’s trusting the person who you experience great love with.”

“I’m Jai and I’m 18 years old. Greatest love. As someone who ceases to exist, but lives by the quote ‘we accept the love we think we deserve’, I definitely have no idea what love truly is. In the first place, we shouldn’t even be rationalizing what it is. I once told a friend that I never believed in love. I was teased about it, but sometimes I just want someone to take me in their tender arms and cover me in dirt, cover me in roses. As gravity pulls me in their arms; I’ll feel warmth, I’ll feel safe, I’ll feel at home. Oh, to have someone be the mark of who I need to be, to have a blossoming reverie with, like the way they came in my life would feel so right. I think greatest love would make me want to twist and turn, cry and burn, but I’d like it.”

Harry sat in his room editing his ‘great love documentary’ and he’s frustrated. He couldn’t feel a thing from it. He felt as if he’s lacking some kind of passion, but he doesn’t know what it is; he can’t put his finger on it. So, he saved the video and went to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. While doing so, he took out his phone and called his mum.

“Harry!” Nikki happily said through the phone. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. ‘M just a bit stressed, that’s all. You?” Harry asked before putting his mum on speaker, so he can decently make a sandwich.

“I’m alright. I’m just editing pictures. How’s the documentary coming along? Is it like you pictured in your head?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah, it’s alright. It’s not finished, but it’s all coming together. The documentary isn’t the problem, though. It’s me. I feel like something’s lacking in me. Like, I don’t feel a thing while asking those ‘for you, what is great love?’ questions. When I asked old couples, I didn’t feel my heart swelling with joy and love. Is something wrong with me?” Harry explained.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then, what is it? I want this documentary to work, I really do. I just want to be a great director. Not just for this project, but also in projects that I’ll do in the future. But I can’t do that if my feelings aren’t in the right mood or place. Am I making any sense, mum?” Harry sighed before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

Nikki laughed, “I definitely know what you’re talking about. Harry, darling, you’re not inspired. That’s it. You’re doing a documentary about ‘great love’, but you don’t have one yourself.”

“Do I have to find someone as soon as possible?” Harry asked. “I don’t want to put this documentary on hold.”

“You don’t have to find someone as soon as possible and you don’t have to put your documentary on hold. You’ll find someone along the way, I promise you that. Just do what you have to do.”

“How do I know if I meet the right one?”

“You’ll just know. Trust me.”

Harry sighed, “Okay. Thanks, mum.”

“You’re welcome. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry hung up and finished his sandwich before going back to his room to continue editing.

Harry took his time with the documentary. He needed the inspiration to continue, so he took a break from it. He was in the neighborhood with a small ball in his hand as he walked Tessa for a little bit of exercise. That’s when he saw you. You were painting a piece of cardboard as you sat on the grass. Your eyebrows were knit as you concentrated on what you were doing. He walked up to where you were and stood next to you. He removed the leash from Tessa’s collar and threw the ball. Tessa immediately ran off to find the ball and Harry finally gave you his attention.

You felt his presence next to you, but you didn’t mind him. After all, he was a stranger.

“Um, hi!” Harry spoke, causing you to look up from painting. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and said, “Hello.”

“What’re you doing?” Harry asked as he crouched down to see it better.

“I’m doing a miniature version of The Office. Right now, I’m painting the walls. So, when I put them together, it looks like an empty office. I already have the grey felt paper for the carpet flooring of the whole office. I haven’t sticked it yet because I have to cut out the exact shape of the floor if that makes sense.” You rambled as you continued painting.

“That sounds… tiring.” Harry said. He looked around and saw Tessa coming back to him. He pats her head before throwing the ball once more, making the dog leave again.

“It’s really tiring. I’m just glad that I have all the materials and the patience to make things like this. A few months ago, I did Rachel and Monica’s apartment. It was epic!” You grinned before looking at him. “What do you do?”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, sitting down next to you to stretch his legs.

“Like, what do you do in your free time, or just in general? What are your hobbies? Anything.” You asked him.

“Oh! I, uh, I’m a filmmaker.” Harry answered. You looked at him for a while and nodded. “That’s interesting. I’ve never met a filmmaker before. I guess this’ll be my first time meeting one.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Harry chuckled awkwardly. “I’m Harry, by the way.” He extended his hand to you.

“Like the prince?” You asked and he laughed, but nodded. “I’m Y/N.” You shook hands before you continued painting. Tessa came back with the ball and Harry took it from her before throwing it again.

“What kind of films do you make?” You asked as you carefully put the cardboard down on the spot next to you to let it dry. You grabbed another cardboard and started painting it.

“Just anything that comes to mind, really. Right now, I’m making a documentary about ‘great love’.” Harry said and you nodded.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why are you making a documentary about ‘great love’?” You asked. You paused painting to look at him with curious eyes. Harry looked at you and shrugged, “There’s no special reason, actually. I just want to experiment. It sucks, though. I don’t feel it and I hate that I don’t feel it.”

You nodded in understanding, “You need a muse, y’know, like an inspiration.”

“Funny. My mum said the same thing.” Harry chuckled which made you smile.

“Great minds think alike.” You giggled. “Your mum and I should hang out, then. We clearly have the same thoughts.”

“I’ll tell her.” Harry said. You both laughed and you looked at your watch. The sun was about to set and you decided it’s best to start packing up your materials. Harry helped you pack up and when you were done, you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You said and he just grinned in return. “I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Harry.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Y/N.” Harry said. At that moment he realized that if he lets you go, he probably would never see you again. If he never sees you again, his mind will swarm with what could have been’s and what if’s. He didn’t like it already. He knew he had to decide now and he did.

“Can I have your number, Y/N?”

As cheesy as it sounds, Harry became motivated in his work again. He began to really feel things towards you and it made him soar. His mum was right. He’ll know when he meets the right person for him. Lucky for him, he found that person at 22 years old while others aren’t so lucky.

He never doubted you for one second. He knew that you were the right person for him. That’s why he confidently asked you on a date. He was delighted when you agreed to go on a date with him. Eventually, one date turned into multiple dates. You even met his family. You thought it was too soon, but he insisted on introducing his great love to his loved ones.

You and Harry didn’t have a label yet and you were still at the ‘getting to know’ stage of your ‘relationship’. Harry learned about your quirks while you learned about his likes and dislikes. It was truly an exciting experience for you because it’s different and new; it’s refreshing.

Harry was your breath of fresh air on a sunny day. He was your quiet life in the countryside. With him, you were peaceful and safe. Your life would come to a pause when you’re around him because you want to live in the moment. You were merely a passerby in this situation.

Of course, passersby come and go. People who pass through the countryside rarely stay because it would only be a matter of time until they make their way back to the hustle bustle of the city.

And it happened to you.

His name was Jack. You and Jack had a long history together, but you both went your separate ways for reasons you could barely recall. You know how people have something consistent in their lives? Jack was yours and you were his. Even if you weren’t together anymore, both of you knew that you’d have each other no matter what. You didn’t know how Jack found you, but he did. After all, that’s how fate works.

Then suddenly the life in the countryside didn’t seem as enticing as it was anymore. The air made you feel suffocated and the sun started burning your skin. Your quiet life in the countryside began to make you feel agitated. Your life desperately wanted to play, but it stayed on a pause and you feared that it would stay that way. You wanted to move on and go through the roads up ahead, but something- someone, rather, was holding you back.

You knew it was time to come clean. As much as you enjoyed and liked Harry’s company, you just couldn’t stay with him. It pained you to realize that the countryside wasn’t for you even if it seemed so perfect. But fate tied you to the city and a city person, you’ll remain. When you told Harry, he didn’t understand it. You didn’t expect him to understand immediately, but you knew that in time, he will.

And he did.

He didn’t let you go; you just left. Besides, he could never let you go. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He was crestfallen for a long time, but his mum told him that things would get better. And she was right… again.

Harry moved on too, but he never forgot about you. To him, you’ll always be in his heart. He finally finished the documentary and he was happy with the outcome.

“Hi, it’s Harry! I’ve decided to add a little clip of me saying stuff that I’ve learned throughout this documentary.” Harry said with a small smile on his face.

“I’ve learned that great love is different for everyone. Great love is loving someone unconditionally and great love is also being an all in one person for your one and only person. Great love is or are people who care for you regardless of the decisions you make and will make. They also want what’s best for you. You have the urge to protect them at all costs and you treasure them because you don’t want to lose them in your life.”

“Great love will always be there; it stays. It’s what you want and will go back to, no matter what. It’s yearning someone for the rest of your life. Great love is understanding someone on the deepest level and you do things for them just because you love them. It’s something that makes someone’s world meaningful. Greatest love would make you want to twist and turn, cry and burn, but you’d like it. You’d like it because it comes with it.”

“During the process of this documentary, I’ve met my great love. I realized that all the answers that I’ve heard made sense when I met this person.”

“Unfortunately, this person isn’t in my life anymore. I used to curse life because of it, but now I get it. I was not their great love, but they were mine. What I felt for them was special and I will never feel that way for someone ever again. I now understand that just because I found great love for me, doesn’t mean that I’m their great love too. I will forever yearn for this person, but I will move on. I am moving on.”

Harry paused for a second and smiled at the camera, “Thank you for watching.”

* * * *

lol what do yall think??? i personally like how it turned out. feedback would be greatly appreciated. you are all my great loves 🤍

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @thatforgottenangel @turtoix @givebuckyhisplumsnow @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @euphorichxlland @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @more-like-reyna @aayaissaa

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz

+ @leafy-holland (oml why cant i tag u??)

#harry holland #harry holland one shots #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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nct-oli · 3 years

Text

IPYTM EP 4

I just feel like saying all of my IPYTM ep 4 thoughts now that I watched the episode, before I read any other posts on here. Raw thoughts minutes after closing the episode.

I feel like I need to say this first. I do not agree with Oh reading Teh’s logbook and invading his privacy, but I do appreciate that he told him later that he did. I also do not like the hitting Teh with the bouquet. Okay, just wanted to get that out of the way.

TEH (AND JAI)

I’m still mad at Teh. I do not forgive him. But I do want to say that Jai is a piece of shit for manipulating Teh the way he did. This episode made it so clear to me how Jai used what Teh wrote in that logbook to his gain, recognizing how vulnerable Teh was and seeing how weak his relationship with Oh-Aew had gotten and using that to his benefit.

Now honestly, I can’t tell if that truly was his plan from the start or if he saw the way Teh had fallen for him and what happened with Oh and decided to say that it was never real in an attempt to stop it as soon as possible.

Regardless, if he was a good friend as well as a good director, Jai would never have used Teh’s broken relationship the way he did. He could have tried to help Teh rekindle things with Oh, work through some of his fears and anxieties that were keeping him from feeling close to his boyfriend. That very likely could have solved both problems–Teh’s relationship issues and his acting barrier–but instead, Jai manipulated Teh’s feelings.

However, I’m not letting Teh off that easily either. There was a moment when I actually did feel a little bad for him, when I started to recognize how Jai was using him and playing with his feelings. And when Teh and Oh started doing a little better, I allowed myself to think that maybe they could figure it out with more communication.

But no, Teh wandered off at the after party to see Jai, and any tiny flicker of forgiveness I felt went out the door. The way he showed no genuine guilt or shame with Oh too made me honestly sick. Like Oh said, did he think he was stupid? Did Teh think he was being subtle? It gave me secondhand embarrassment to see him believe he was being anything except disgustingly obvious about what was going on.

And then for him to call Jai the Fang to his Akin, with his too-forgiving boyfriend sitting in the other room?? Again, do you have no shame, Teh???

Also, the way Jai and Teh both gaslit Oh-Aew, trying to make him think he was overreacting and overthinking when both of them knew Teh’s feelings were not just the result of his great acting. That the kiss was never just an exercise (at least from Teh’s side, which is the side that mattered most). Watching them both lie to Oh’s face like that lit a rage fire within me.

Now, the scene of Oh-Aew and Teh singing on stage and the music going quiet as Teh’s attention drifted from Oh to Jai was heartbreaking in a really good way. I’m so proud of Oh-Aew for finally deciding that moment was enough, that Teh deserved no more chances, and that he needed to walk away. I’m so proud of him for choosing himself.

I appreciate Teh’s roommate. I don’t have the sympathy in me at this very moment so soon after the episode to wish Teh such kindness, but I’m sure tomorrow morning I’ll be a little more open to him having the emotional support I know deep down he needs. So I’m glad he has his roommate extending a hand.

And it was incredibly sad to watch Teh realize how he’d isolated himself to the extreme all for this one dream, maybe forgetting along the way to dream about his relationship with Oh-Aew, his long term friendships, etc. All of the other dreams you can and should have as well. I think he started to realize everything he’d given up for acting and how less glamorous and fun it really was now that he was here.

And that hit him even more when he got casted and potentially signed, only to face the reality that it also meant erasing the digital footprint of his relationship with Oh, one of the few things he still had left. This life he had envisioned kept getting less and less glamorous by the second.

I’m not saying I want him to give up on his dream of acting, but I do hope that everything that has happened is his much needed wake up call. That he finds more empathy for the people he judged for drifting from acting, for the people he pushed away for not trying hard enough. I hope he sees how selfish and ignorant his actions and his words have been over the past few years and that he takes this as a starting point for a more understanding and accepting outlook on not just his own life but the lives of those around him.

And I do hope he heals one day. Or, well, I will hope for that tomorrow. Tonight I’m still mad at him.

OH-AEW

Now on to Oh. As I said before, I don’t condone the invasion of Teh’s privacy or hitting him with the bouquet. But otherwise, I really am proud of Oh-Aew. Do I think he handled everything perfectly? No. In an ideal world, I would have liked him to confront Teh sooner so he could have given him the opportunity to be honest early on.

But given everything, I think Oh’s level of compassion and his willingness to try to understand are more than most people are willing to give in his shoes. I genuinely do respect how level-headed he went about it. I wish he had been better rewarded for his grace, and instead he got a boyfriend who lied and continued to go behind his back even after Oh had given him an undeserved second chance.

But what I am most proud of is how Oh-Aew handled breaking up with Teh. Telling Teh that he was hurt and asking him to have pity on him. Oh chose himself again, more permanently. In that moment, he understood that Teh’s apology did not warrant forgiveness and that he was allowed to stay hurt, to stay angry, to stay unwilling to take Teh back.

Oh was vulnerable and still stayed firm in his decision to respect himself anyway, to trust his feelings and prioritize his healing. Teh was there crying before him, and he still understood that he had no responsibility to fix Teh’s pain. That the pain Teh was feeling was pain he had inflicted on himself.

You can see in the way he turned back to look at Teh leave and then the way he sobbed afterwards that it took all of his strength to not give in moments earlier. How easy it would have been for him to take comfort in the familiarity of Teh’s embrace once again, to give him that second chance and hope for the best. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did; it’s hard to give up someone who once made you feel safe. Who once felt like home.

But I am so proud of him for choosing himself anyway. For knowing that, however hard it was in that moment to let go, it would have been even harder to live every day sacrificing his mental and emotional security for a relationship he knew would never feel the same. For a man he could never fully trust again.

Oh-Aew has grown so much.

OH’S FRIENDS

Also, Oh has the cutest, sweetest friends in the world. This was my favorite scene in the entire episode. I’m so glad he found his group and that they love him so much.

The contrast between Teh and Oh-Aew throughout this season and especially in this episode has been really apparent as they’ve drifted apart. And I think this scene really highlighted that. Teh verbally acknowledged how he had no one to turn to anymore, how he’d ruined his relationships with everyone over time, meanwhile Oh was surrounded by people ready to love him and take care of him until he was better.

Oh’s honesty with himself and the people around him resulted in a community of friends supporting him as his authentic self, while Teh’s lies to himself and the people around him resulted in solitude.

It’s tragic for him, really.

EP 5?

Honestly, I have no idea what will happen with episode 5. At this point, I want Oh-Aew to find happiness away from Teh and for Teh to fix his insecurities on his own. I don’t want them together.

Maybe one day they’ll find each other again. I don’t know. But after this season’s storyline has unfolded, I think Oh deserves better. And I don’t think they make sense anymore.

AND BECAUSE IT NEEDS TO BE SAID

Oh-Aew dying his hair from red to black again? Yeah. He is Teh’s red no more.

#this took me 2 whole hours to write and gif #it’s not even THAT long but organizing my thoughts enough to write something coherent took a long time #they should have just left it at itsay #they could have left everyone believing Teh and Oh were happily together :(#long post #sorry I’m on mobile so I can’t add a read more thing #teh x oh aew #i promised you the moon #ipytm spoilers

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Play date with the Lans and Nies! Except it's Nie Mingjue training with little Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen painting with Nie Huaisang! Baby brothers getting crushes!!!! Adorable all around!!!!!

Lan Xichen had been told several times not to expect that things would be the same as they’d been the last time he’d visited Qinghe and the Unclean Realm.

It was unusual that he’d visited before at all, in fact; usually, the heirs to the Great Sects were raised very firmly in their own traditions before allowed to venture out to meet any others – often only in their teenage years, when they were wise enough to learn from others without losing the core of their ancestor’s teaching. But his uncle had been friends with old sect leader Nie, personal friends in addition to being allies, and so he’d had the chance to visit once before, a few years back.

He’d enjoyed that visit.

He’d been very young, younger than Lan Wangji was now – sometimes he felt he was still younger than Lan Wangji, who was not quite nine years old but very solemn about it – but Nie Mingjue was very nice to him, showing him around and playing games with him very earnestly as if he hadn’t had any friends at all.

It didn’t feel at all like the older boy had been humoring him. They’d even gotten in trouble with their parents together, having tried to switch their baby brothers around so that old Nie would stop complaining about his child’s low vitality and Lan Xichen’s Uncle could have some peace and quiet from Lan Wangji’s very effective lungs at last.

Things would be different now, of course.

Lan Xichen was nearly thirteen years old, on the verge of adulthood (in the technical sense, anyway), but Nie Mingjue…

Nie Mingjue was already Sect Leader.

(It puzzled Lan Xichen a little, how someone he remembered as being only a few years older than him could have so quickly shot into the ranks of real adulthood – were there really six years between them? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, he had spent his childhood visit looking up at Nie Mingjue from a great distance...)

It was Nie Mingjue, not old Nie, who greeted them at the door, and who sat with Uncle in the study to drink tea and talk politics. And when he was done with that, he had to go and deal with sect business, first a table full of papers that Lan Xichen would never be allowed to look at and then a hall full of people asking questions and after that he had to lead saber training for the Nie sect disciples.

It wasn’t until right before bedtime in Gusu that Lan Xichen was able to find time to talk to his friend.

“You look tired,” he said, and Nie Mingjue smiled a little, nodding in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his eyes. “Can you spend some time with Huaisang tomorrow? I haven’t had as much time for him as I’d like, these past few days, and he’s only just barely started being able to handle being away from me for a few hours without going into a panic.”

“Certainly,” Lan Xichen said, and a beautiful idea appeared in his brain. “And I’ll send Wangji to you, of course.”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him.

“We did always say they’d make a good trade,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled when Nie Mingjue laughed.

The next morning, Lan Xichen told Lan Wangji that his duty for the day was to go and help Sect Leader Nie with whatever he needed, which Lan Wangji accepted with a deep, solemn nod that suggested he was preparing to go to war.

“It won’t be that bad,” Lan Xichen coaxed. “It’s only Mingjue-xiong. Don’t you remember when he came to visit Gusu a few years back? You sparred with him a few times, and later –”

Lan Wangji’s ears abruptly turned bright red and he shook his head furiously to forestall any further commentary. Lan Xichen pressed his lips together to keep from laughing; Lan Wangji had had the most adorable crush on Nie Mingjue in those days.

“You know,” Lan Xichen said innocently, “given that it’s morning, I think you’ll probably find Mingjue-xiong at the training grounds…”

Lan Wangji was gone faster than the wind.

Still chuckling, Lan Xichen went to go find his own charge. Nie Huaisang had been sick with allergies during part of their visit to Gusu, staying inside so he wouldn’t make them worse, so Lan Xichen hadn’t had much of an impression of him – he remembered a little dumpling, a round face with a vivacious smile and an awful lot of giggling, a sunny contrast to Lan Wangji’s natural seriousness.

The shy, skinny child that flinched away from him and hid his face away behind a fan wasn’t anything like the child he’d remembered.

Nie Mingjue had said something about Nie Huaisang having developed a tendency to have brief attacks of heightened panic, Lan Xichen remembered, which were worsened if he couldn’t lay eyes on his elder brother for any extended period of time. He must be afraid of losing his brother the way he’d lost his father, which Lan Xichen could understand – the painful memory of being told his mother wasn’t there anymore still stung bitterly anytime he let himself think too much about it, and it’d been years, not months.

(Nie Mingjue’s visit had been the only thing that had managed to lift Lan Wangji’s gloom after the death of their mother, and Lan Xichen would be forever indebted to him for that. Even if he’d never tell him the exact reason – Lan Wangji would immediately expire out of sheer embarrassment if he ever did.)

“I’m going to be spending time with you today,” Lan Xichen announced, and Nie Huaisang looked more resigned than anything else, turning his head gloomily to look at where his saber was sitting in its proper place. “How do you feel about painting?”

Nie Huaisang paused and very slowly turned his head back to look at Lan Xichen suspiciously. “…real painting?”

“With ink and colors and everything,” Lan Xichen promised. He knew that Qinghe Nie tended to believe that physical exercise was a good antidote to grief, but he’d personally found that art worked better for him as an escape – maybe the same would be true for Nie Huaisang. “We can go paint some landscapes. Or maybe we can see if we can find any birds?”

There were a lot of birds in Qinghe, and all different types, too. It was as if every time Lan Xichen turned his head, there was a new explosion of feathers in some new configuration.

“I like birds,” Nie Huaisang murmured, his voice very soft.

“We’ll keep an eye out for any we see, then,” Lan Xichen said enthusiastically. “If we can catch one, I’ll convinced your brother to let you keep it.”

Nie Huaisang’s face brightened, and Lan Xichen was sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince Nie Mingjue to let his brother keep a few animals, not if he could see that smile. “Really? I can keep one at home?”

“Really.”

“It’s safe now?” Nie Huaisang asked, hopping off the bed to go put his hand in Lan Xichen’s.

Lan Xichen thought that was an odd question, but nodded again. “We’ll buy a nice bronze cage in the market,” he said, thinking that Nie Huaisang might be worried about cats or something – another notable feature of Qinghe. Stray cats everywhere. “That’ll keep it safe.”

“Steel is better,” Nie Huaisang said as Lan Xichen led him out. “Bronze will bend if a fist hits it hard enough; it won’t protect whatever’s inside.”

“Steel it is, then,” Lan Xichen said. He’d only thought that bronze would match the décor of Nie Huaisang’s bedroom; steel would clash and ruin the feng shui. “Maybe plated in bronze?”

“That works!”

“I’m a Sect Leader now,” Nie Mingjue told Lan Wangji, who was standing at attention better than some of the adult Nie sect disciples. “What I need right now are good lieutenants. Are you capable?”

Lan Wangji nodded firmly.

“It won’t be that interesting,” Nie Mingjue warned him. “If you think you’ll get bored and want to wander off –”

“I won’t,” Lan Wangji said, and there was a note of determination and pride in his voice that made Nie Mingjue want to pick him up with one arm and give him a hug the way he’d done in the past.

He didn’t, of course. For one thing, it’d be beneath his dignity as a Sect Leader to so causally embrace a child from another sect – or anyone, for that matter; for another, Lan Wangji had always had a great deal of pride for a child, and Nie Mingjue had long ago figured out that the best way to deal with pride was to offer respect where it was due.

“Very well then,” Nie Mingjue said. “I will count on you.”

Lan Wangji lifted his head and clenched his fists, his eyes shining, and his expression only became more and more happy (in that barely-noticeable way he had) when he realized Nie Mingjue was giving him tasks that actually needed doing, rather than merely filling the time to entertain him.

Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have done the latter regardless – he’d always disdained the idea of condescending to a child like that – but as a matter of fact he did need the help: someone to write things down as he made decisions, to survey things and report back to him what he saw, to arrange that he would have fresh ink before he noticed he was out, to put signatures on things that needed to be signed once Nie Mingjue had approved the idea, to inconspicuously serve tea during important political discussions while keeping enough of an ear out to be able to remind Nie Mingjue of everything that had been discussed later…

His advisers were right; he really did need a deputy. Possibly several of them, if he couldn’t find one competent enough to serve alone.

“Wangji,” he said towards the end of the day, and Lan Wangji looked up at him from where he was faithfully copying out one of the letters that needed to go out before the end of the day. He was barely tall enough to sit properly at the table, but his calligraphy was perfect. “You helped me a great deal today. Well done.”

Lan Wangji nodded and looked back down to finish off the letter, only the redness of his ears revealing his embarrassment.

They went down to the entrance to meet Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, who were returning from their outing for the day – Nie Huaisang was clutching a giant bird cage covered in a cloth, with a smile that almost looked like the one from last year, from before, and Lan Xichen had paint splattered on his face and white clothing.

“Do I want to know?” he asked Lan Xichen dryly as he gestured for the two children to greet each other, but Lan Xichen only laughed.

“I promised him he could keep whatever we found,” he said with a smile. “Also, Huaisang has some paintings he wants to show you. If you like them, you might consider hanging one up in your office.”

He will hang them all up no matter how ugly they are, Nie Mingjue decides immediately. He doesn’t say that out loud, merely nods and says, “We’ll see, then.”

“How was Wangji?” Lan Xichen asked. “He didn’t bother you, did he?”

“Don’t be absurd, Wangji’s a good boy,” Nie Mingjue said. “And an excellent deputy. If he wasn’t your brother, I’d try to steal him away from you.”

“He might like that,” Lan Xichen said, looking at Lan Wangji fondly. “Maybe when he’s a little older, I can send him here for a season, to improve his cultivation –”

Lan Wangji didn’t do anything as crass as nod furiously, but his expression showed distinct signs of interest; he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to Nie Huaisang, who was rambling into his ear.

“And perhaps I’ll send Huaisang to the Cloud Recesses for your uncle’s teaching,” Nie Mingjue replied, mildly hopeful – it was out of the question right now, with Nie Huaisang only sleeping through the night half the days in the week and never when he was on his own, but it would be nice, in the future. He thought that his younger brother would enjoy the serenity of Gusu.

“– and then we caught a bird, look!” Nie Huaisang concluded, pulling the cover off the birdcage.

Nie Mingjue glanced over, then did a double-take and stared.

“Xichen,” he said, with admirable restraint. “Did you actually promise that my brother would be allowed to keep a vicious flesh-eating hawk?”

“There’s no way a hawk is that small,” Lan Xichen said. After a second of observing Nie Mingjue’s face, he added, a little weakly, “…right?”

#mdzs #lan xichen #lan wangji #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #possibly this is the background to Pastime (With Good Company)#but it can also stand alone #Anonymous

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Awaken

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyunjin (some mentions of Y/N x Seo Changbin)

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut and language, use of vibrators, Hyunjin is kinda obsessed in this one

Genre: College AU; Professor AU

Summary: When Y/N transferred into a prestigious all-girls university, she never expected to be on the receiving end of a very handsome professor’s near-constant attention.

It had been a difficult decision - transferring from my previous school into one of the most Elite universities in the world. I understand that it might seem contradictory, but there were several uncertainties that impeded my ability to make a decision. The first being an existential dread surrounding the idea of leaving behind my best friends, including my off-and-on again boyfriend, Changbin. The second reason involved my new university’s strict mandate that it would only accept female applicants.

Yes, the school only admitted women, and as someone who maintained a diligent sex life with previous boyfriends, I was not excited by the prospect of being forced into celibacy.

But the pressure from my parents and close academic advisors eventually forced my hand, and I found myself dragging most of my belongings out of my dorm room with a few friends helping me along. “What the hell is in this suitcase, Y/N?” Jisung asked, grunting with the effort of dragging my bag along the sidewalk.

“Probably just clothes,” I said, shrugging because I was trying to remain perfectly nonchalant about my transfer, even though I was having a total meltdown on the inside.

“I think that’s all of it,” Changbin said, and he was giving me that same somber look that I was starting to hate - the one that told me he wasn’t very happy about my transfer. “You know,” he continued, bracing himself against the side of my car. “If you ever need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Quit trying to get your dick wet, Changbin, and grab something!” Chan snapped. “Or, are those arms just for show?”

Changbin rolled his eyes, but he leaned down to grab my laundry basket before bringing it to the trunk. “Are you gonna miss us, Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“Not as much as you’ll miss me,” I said. “Who else will edit your essays, Han?”

Jisung frowned as if he was actually thinking deeply about my question. “Maybe I could just email them-”

“Jisung,” Chan interrupted, knocking against his shoulder with an affectionate smile. “There’s still one more box inside.”

“I’m on it!” Jisung shouted, and I grinned at the sight of the younger boy pumping his arms as he jogged back up the staircase.

“He doesn’t really get the severity of the situation,” Chan said, leaning next to me to against my car.

“It’s okay,” I said, looking down at my shoes. “I’ll miss all of you.”

“Y/N,” Chan said, “I thought we weren’t gonna cry until after you left.”

I sniffled around the rising urge to do exactly that before tossing my arms around his neck for a long embrace. “You’ll come see me, right?”

“Of course,” Chan agreed, pulling back to meet my gaze. “Ya! Don’t cry over this, Y/N. It’s supposed to be your big opportunity.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, but it didn’t really feel like it anymore, and when my eyes connected with Changbin’s, I couldn’t help but feel a terrible weight pressing down on my chest.

Maybe this was the worst idea ever, but I was already enrolled for the upcoming academic semester. I would do my best, of course, but I desperately hoped that my parents might reconsider another transfer. Because these were my friends (and my sometimes boyfriend), and I belonged with them.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Chan instructed me firmly. “Call us if you ever want to hangout.”

“I will,” I promised him, and he brushed a friendly kiss across my forehead. It was the ultimate sign that I had truly signed my life away on the enrollment papers for the school in the next town. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad once I made new friends, but at this moment, everything hurt and I was doing my best to hold myself together as I drove away with my old life waving goodbye from the rear-view mirror.

Upon the start of the Spring semester, I was officially moved into my new dorm room which I was sharing with an very enthusiastic young woman named Claire. Her optimism was unmatched, and she had spent most of the day dragging me around campus while pointing out anything that seemed remotely interesting. “You’ll love it here, Y/N!” she promised, and I feigned a smile mostly for her benefit.

“It seems nice,” I told her later on after we returned to our shared dorm room.

“Oh, yeah, the teachers are great!” she said. “What’s your schedule like?”

I shrugged with vacant dismissal, reaching into my bag to hand her the folded piece of paper I had received earlier that week. “You got in Mr. Hwang’s class!” Claire abruptly squealed. “You lucky bitch!”

“What’s the big deal?” I grumbled, snatching my schedule back out of her hands.

“The big deal!” Claire shrieked like I had just committed an unforgivable crime. “He’s only the hottest teacher on campus!”

I rolled my eyes because I should’ve anticipated something superficial. But I was beginning to understand that most of these poor girls were thirsty for anything remotely attractive, and I had even witnessed one girl lusting over a much-older professor just because he still had all of his hair. It was everything I feared about an all-girls institution, and I was beginning to experience the same mania as the rest of them.

But my thoughts usually went to Changbin, and there was no way I would ever fantasize about one of my teachers. “How old is he?” I asked.

“He’s only 27!” Claire giggled. “I’m not kidding, Y/N, it looks like he was literally sculpted by the gods!”

“That’s original,” I muttered. “Well, I hope he’s good at poetry.”

“Oh, he’s the best,” Claire assured me, but I didn’t think I could take her word for it because she was certainly biased when it concerned his looks. “He’s been published all around the world!”

“He must be decent,” I said because the school’s academic reputation wouldn’t allow anything less than acceptable.

“My friend had a class with him last semester,” Claire continued, and I regretted not changing the topic earlier. “Apparently, she could hardly concentrate on the lesson because she couldn’t stop staring at his ass.”

“Your friend sounds dedicated.”

“There’s also a rumor going around campus that he only got his position because he seduced our admissions advisor!”

I snorted at the idea. “I doubt I’ll be that interested in him.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” Claire sing-songed. “You’ll change your mind when you see him.”

“I highly doubt it,” I muttered, and I glanced over at the side table where my phone was waiting. “I’ll be back,” I said, and I left the dorm room and found myself in an isolated study room which I ensured was locked before dialing Changbin’s number.

Then, I settled down against the couch and closed my eyes, shoving my hand underneath the waistband of my sleeping shorts to gently graze my fingers against my clitoris.

Graciously, Changbin picked up after the fourth ring: “Y/N?” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Changbin chuckled, and the static from the phone made it sound far more guttural. I bit my lower lip as I dipped one finger inside my tight heat. “How’s your new roommate?” he asked. “Chan told me that she was unbearable.”

“She’s chatty,” I said, taking a deep breath before asking him: “Changbin, I miss you.”

He was silent from the other end, and I could only pray that Changbin had read the situation correctly, especially when I offered a quiet moan into the receiver. “Are you touching yourself, Y/N?” he asked, and I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“I wish you were here,” I told him, and I smiled at the familiar sound of Changbin’s zipper as he tugged his pants down those thick thighs that I loved.

“I’m here, babe,” he said, and there was a slight desperation to his tone. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” I said, hissing around a stuttered exhale when I grazed a sensitive spot. “I’m thinking about your cock, Changbin.”

He moaned from the other end, and the slick sound of Changbin lubing up his erection was particularly raunchy. “I want you here with me, Y/N,” Changbin said, and I could easily imagine him jerking off his cock from behind my eyelids. “I’d have you on your hands and knees, fingering that little pussy of yours.”

I gasped at his words, arching my back against the couch as I shoved my fingers even further inside. Changbin had an uncanny gift for dirty talk that I attributed in large part to his irresistible baritone voice. “Tell me more,” I begged him.

“Are you wet?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Changbin growled. “I could just slide right in.”

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed, and I imagined everything as he continued to describe it to me - moving my fingers even faster at the phantom sensation of his cock filling me up so well like he always did whenever we had sex together. “I want to come so bad for you.”

“Then do it,” Changbin said, grunting from his end as he undoubtedly brought himself to completion.

And I eventually came with a loud moan - shameless despite the thin walls of the surrounding dorms. But I was on cloud nine, savoring the necessary heat of my well-deserved orgasm. “Call me tomorrow,” Changbin said after a while, and I had almost forgotten that we were still talking.

“Yeah,” I panted around a sigh. “I will.”

The bell-tower struck noon when I entered Hwang Hyunjin’s poetry class for the very first time. I had already anticipated a large class, but I was still surprised by the sheer number of students who were crowding the front rows of the classroom. I rolled my eyes because I was forced to sit at the back, and it certainly did no favors for my poor vision.

Regardless, I was also frustrated because there was a small part of myself which remained curious about this mysterious teacher. I could tell that all the other students were practically gushing with excitement, but I schooled my expression and slumped down in my seat as I pulled out a fresh notebook. What the hell were they expecting? A striptease in the middle of our lecture?

However, the most frustrating part of all was the grand entrance of the elusive teacher who had enraptured most of the population. And I couldn’t be any less impressed with him as I rolled my eyes over his tall, lean form. Yeah, he was pretty to look at, but he certainly wasn’t my type. I sighed as my mind instantly reminded me of an image of Changbin; specifically, a sweaty Changbin who had just finished up in the gym - wearing nothing around his waist except for a towel.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mr Hwang finally spoke, and there was a deeper aspect to his voice that I wasn’t expecting. “My name is Mr. Hwang, and this is our poetry 278 lecture.”

There was a collective sigh over his words, and I held back my laughter at the pathetic way everyone was swooning over him. “Let’s start with introductions,” Mr. Hwang suggested, and I groaned because I loathed ice-breakers. “When I call your name, you can give me your year and intended major.”

God, was this Elementary school?

Nevertheless, I waited for my turn, listening as the other students went above and beyond the call of duty to provide Mr. Hwang with as much unnecessary additional information as they could. “I study political science,” one girl said. “I was the leader of my high school’s debate club, and I won an award at the state convention.”

“Impressive,” Mr. Hwang said, and I briefly entertained the idea of the girl fainting on the spot. “Y/N?”

I glanced up to meet Mr. Hwang’s gaze. “Third year,” I replied. “I just transferred, and I’m studying English.”

“Oh, really?” Mr. Hwang inquired. “Do you have any interest in writing an honor’s thesis?”

I blinked twice at the question because he hadn’t bothered to push anyone else for something more. “I’d like to in the future,” I told him, and I squirmed around uncomfortably in my chair when his gaze lingered for several beats too long.

Thankfully, he quietly moved on, and I was able to relax in my seat once again. The lecture proceeded from there, and I sighed when I realized that we would be talking about Emily Dickinson who I had already studied numerous times in my other classes. But I guess that left me the rare opportunity to doodle nonsensical images on my notebook while thinking about my friends, wondering what Jisung, Chan, and Changbin might be doing at that moment.

In another universe, we could be sharing this class together, and I felt a pang of homesickness for my previous school as I listened to Mr. Hwang’s voice at the back of my head. But after another hour, our class concluded and I breathed a sigh of relief as I packed up my belongings. I wasn’t able to finish my picture of Munchlax, but maybe I could work out the details later on. In the meantime, I hoisted my bag over my shoulder as I tried to fight my way around the crowd of students who were all waiting around Mr. Hwang’s desk.

And I was almost at the exit when his voice suddenly stopped me. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I paused mid-step because I wasn’t expecting to hear him call my name. “Can you stay behind for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said, even as I bristled at the thought of having to wait for those other girls to leave first.

They all insisted that they had so many questions to ask Mr. Hwang, and I was left to stew in the corner while crossing my arms over my chest. I had another class in half an hour, and I couldn’t afford to stand around all day while I waited at the behest of a teacher who had somehow won the affections of every student in this stupid school simply by being the prettiest in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mr. Hwang said with a bright smile to the last girl who scampered out of the room with a breathless giggle.

Finally, it was just me and Mr. Hwang, and I hesitantly walked over to his desk. “You needed to see me?”

“Yes,” Mr. Hwang said as he looked up at me from his grade-book. “Is there something wrong with the way I teach?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I was surprised to see him pouting at me with his lower lip sticking out.

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Hwang,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag.

“Well, it didn’t seem like you were too invested in my lecture,” Hyunjin explained.

Oh, great, he caught me daydreaming about Changbin.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, searching for an excuse. “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Mr. Hwang nodded. “You transferred here for the new semester.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, and I chanced a step back towards the doorway. “I’ll do better in the future.”

“Well, hold on for just a minute, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m here to help my students when they’re struggling.”

“It’s not really a struggle,” I said, but I held my tongue when he pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something at the top.

“Here,” he said, holding out the paper for me to take. “It’s my personal phone number,” Mr. Hwang added with a wink.

Personal number? “Oh, thank you, sir,” I offered in return because I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response might be in that situation.

“Call me anytime,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and I couldn’t help but notice the mischievous gleam in his gaze like we were playing some kind of game and I was the one who was losing. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

One Week Later

Despite my new school’s formidable reputation, I was doing exceedingly well in all of my classes. Most of my instructors were greatly impressed, and a few English teachers had already brought up the prospect of mentoring me for the honor’s thesis. Yet, there was one class that I couldn’t quite get a handle on, and I was shocked to see another giant C- written across the top of my latest essay.

I swallowed hard when Mr. Hwang returned to the front of the room to conclude his lecture. What the hell was I doing wrong? I had even sent this paper to a former TA at my previous school who offered to look at it before I submitted the damn thing.

But instead of feeling disappointed about my failure, I sensed a rising anger directed at the man standing in front of the room. Everyone else around me celebrated their A’s while I was left with a nasty letter grade that would hardly reflect well on my GPA. What could the rest of my classmates be doing differently?

“That’s it for today!” Mr. Hwang announced. “We’ll pick up on this again next time!”

I frowned as I stuffed the essay at the bottom of my bag. It still wasn’t too late to switch out of this stupid class, and then I could finally re-orient my focus. “Y/N!” Mr. Hwang called out when I passed by his desk. “Can I have a moment of your time, dear?”

Dear?! “Sure,” I grumbled, once again waiting for the masses of Mr. Hwang’s admirers to leave the room before I confronted my teacher.

“Well,” Mr. Hwang began with an exaggerated sigh. “What will we do about these poor grades of yours?”

I bristled at the comment because it sounded strangely hostile - perhaps even threatening. “Don’t worry, sir,” I said. “I’m transferring out your class. You don’t have to concern yourself with me.”

I turned my back on Mr. Hwang as I started for the exit. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’ve spoken to your other teachers, and they tell me that this a requirement for your major. And I’m the only person who teaches the subject.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed under my breath, but I did my best to retain a neutral expression as I returned to his desk. “What’s the problem, sir?” I asked. “I had the last essay peer-checked by a former instructor.”

“Our grading standards are much higher, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang informed me haughtily. “I think the real issue is your attitude.”

“My attitude?” I repeated - completely dumbfounded by the accusation.

“You don’t really show any engagement with the material,” Mr. Hwang elaborated. “You always come to class, but I can tell that your attention is elsewhere. And you don’t even bother to come to my office hours to talk about the topics we cover.”

“I didn’t realize, sir,” I said, and I was shocked that he considered me disinterested in my studies.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang explained. “You’re the only student who never stays behind to talk to me.”

Because I have better things to compliment your face! “I have another lecture after this one,” I offered as a response.

“Then it seems to me like I should make an effort to meet you outside of designated hours,” Mr. Hwang said. “I have an apartment off-campus. Maybe you can come over this weekend?”

For a moment, I was completely stunned by his proposal. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Hwang,” I said, taking a step back away from him.

“Why not?” Mr. Hwang asked. “It’ll just be me and you.”

“Uh, I don’t know...”

“Oh, Y/N, I have to insist,” Mr. Hwang said, and I watched him open his grade-book. “You won’t even muster a C in this class if you keep going at this rate.”

It seemed preposterous that I could make straight A’s in every other class but still fail this one at the same time. “I’ll think about it,” I said while doing my best to ignore his pleased smile.

It was late that night when my phone lit up with an incoming notification. I groaned in response because I wasn’t expecting anything from the boys, but then again, maybe Changbin needed fresh jerk-off material, and I could always send him a picture of my tits. But I was surprised to realize that I was wrong on all accounts, and my heart started beating faster when I read the message:

From Unknown:

Y/N, it’s Hyunjin from your poetry class.

Hyunjin? Oh, right, that was Mr. Hwang’s first name.

To Unknown:

Me: How did you get this number?

From Unknown:

H: The student profiles.

“It’s still an invasion of my privacy,” I grumbled.

H: We can be very casual with one another outside of class. Wouldn’t you agree?

I narrowed my eyes at the informal suggestion.

To Unknown:

Me: If that’s okay with you, sir.

I waited for several moments, but it seemed like Mr. Hwang was finally done texting me. I shrugged at the unusual conversation, but before I could place my phone back on my nightstand, it vibrated with another incoming message. This one had a picture attached....

“Holy shit!” I gasped, dropping my phone onto the bed as my heart started to thud violently inside my chest.

From Unknown:

H: Do you like it, princess?

“Is he crazy?” I decried, and my hands were trembling when I brought my phone screen closer. Because the attachment contained a very obscene picture of a dick, and I didn’t need more than two guesses to assume that it was Mr. Hwang’s.

My fingers were shaking as I stared at the image - zooming in closer to observe the delicate bead of precum glistening at the tip. There was also a hand wrapped around the base, and even though I didn’t have much experience with sex, I could still acknowledge that it was a very nice cock. But did I really just get a dick pic from my poetry teacher?

To Unknown:

Me: I’m not sure what you expect me to say.

I sent the message before attempting to fan my flushed skin - feeling overheated because this was not what I had been expecting when Mr. Hwang sent me the first message.

From Unknown:

H: It’s alright, princess. I’m not much for talking either. Why don’t you come over this weekend so you can show me your reaction instead?

Oh, god, I was definitely teetering on the precipice of very dangerous ground. I’m talking the same kind of inappropriate that could get him fired and me expelled. What the hell was he even thinking? Was Mr. Hwang trying to hit on me?!!

I shook my head because it was suddenly very difficult to concentrate, but I was also feeling the vestiges of panic creeping around the edges of my vision. My hands could barely hold the screen long enough for me to type out a quick response:

To Unknown:

Me: Maybe some other time.

The next morning, I was still shaken from my unexpected text conversation with Mr. Hwang. For most of the night, I simply stared at the ceiling while my phone continued to vibrate with incoming messages. Eventually, I was forced to mute his number, and I still couldn’t fall asleep.

I was barely functional the next morning, but I was also strangely horny, which is why I didn’t hesitate to encourage Changbin when he sent me a message asking if he could come visit. I waited and chose a time when my roommate would be gone - sighing in relief when I heard him knocking on the door. I threw it open quickly, and he was clearly caught off-guard by my eagerness. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said, and I didn’t hesitate to lock my lips with his, kissing Changbin with all the nervous energy that I had tried to keep to myself all weekend.

“Wow,” Changbin managed when we both pulled apart for air. “The no dick policy at this shithole has fucked you up.”

“Yeah? I need you to fuck me, Changbin,” I said, and he must’ve saw something in my eyes that changed his mind.

He pushed us both into my room, turning around to lock the door before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. “Bend over for me, baby,” he said, and his voice was husky as I took off my clothes and braced myself against the desk.

“I really need this,” I told him from over my shoulder - shameless as I explored every inch of his toned form.

“I got you, baby,” Changbin said, and he moved behind me to spread my legs, taking a few moments to finger me with his long digits, stretching out my opening while stimulating my clitoris with his thumb. “You definitely need to be fucked,” Changbin remarked. “Your pussy is so tight.”

“Please,” I whispered, and Changbin was quick to replace his fingers with the same cock that I often drooled over when I masturbated late at night. He set an urgent pace from the start, grabbing my hips between his hands to hold me in place as he filled me with his cock over and over again. “Changbin,” I whined, burying my face in my forearms and trying to ignore the pain in my stomach from where he knocked me into the wood on every thrust.

It wasn’t equivocal to one of our more passionate rounds of lovemaking, but it was everything that I needed. Enough to wipe all consideration of Hwang Hyunjin clear out of my head as I enjoyed the delightful friction of Changbin’s cock rolling against the constricting walls of my cunt. “It feels so good,” I whispered, and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Changbin said. “I wouldn’t want your roommate to come back.”

However, the inherent risk of being caught by my roommate was also a factor in my rapid ascent to orgasm. “Coming!” I shouted while feeling myself unravel around his cock as he rammed himself inside.

Thereafter, I settled on top of my bed while Changbin tied off his condom and tossed it into the trash. I smiled when he crawled in next to me, reaching for his jeans hanging from the edge and pulling out a package of cigarettes. “Open the window,” I instructed him. “I can’t have you polluting my room.”

Changbin chuckled, but obeyed nonetheless. He also drug the ashtray on the windowsill closer before lighting the cigarette and bringing it to his swollen lips for a long inhale. “I really missed you, Y/N,” Changbin said, taking another drag from his cigarette before placing it in the ash tray next to the open window.

“I missed you too,” I told him, closing my eyes for a moment as I relaxed against the pillows - savoring the warmth of Changbin from next to me.

“I had a nice time with you,” Changbin added. “Maybe we could...try dating again?”

I froze at the words I had been dreading to hear. You see, Changbin and I had been dating off-and-on for many years at this point, and we both knew that we didn’t work well as a couple. Yet, that never stopped him from encouraging us to try again, and as much as I loved the sex, I couldn’t tolerate the complicated feelings involved.

“I don’t think so, Changbin,” I said, wincing when I heard him sigh. “You know that never ends well for us.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, although it hurt my heart to see him look so sad. “I can’t help it, Y/N.”

“We can still keep doing this,” I said, reaching over to place a tender kiss on his bicep.

“Maybe,” Changbin agreed, but something in his tone told me that this might be the last time I ever enjoyed Changbin’s company in bed.

“Could I at least show you around campus?” I asked him. “I’ll even treat you to lunch?”

Thankfully, Changbin managed a smile at my offer.

By the time Changbin had left campus, I was feeling strangely alone when I settled at a cafe in the student union to work on some homework. I couldn’t help but feel like I had disappointed Changbin, and I prayed to anyone who was listening that we might still be friends. Because we had been close well before the sexting and late-night phone conversations that always ended up with an orgasm or two.

Changbin was the epitome of the type of guy I usually lusted after: strong, handsome, and intimidating. But we always argued too much whenever we tried the whole couple thing, and that was enough to ruin any preconceived notions I held about a relationship with the object of my most intimate fantasies. “You always manage to ruin everything, Y/N,” I muttered to myself, and it was suddenly way too difficult to focus on homework.

But I was still distracted enough that I almost failed to recognize the man who had just walked into the cafe...until he was standing right next to my table. “I always enjoy seeing my students outside of our lectures,” Mr. Hwang said with a smirk. “Do you mind if I join you?”

It took me a while to respond to his simple inquiry because my mind instantly returned to the picture of his cock that still sat in my messages. “Sure,” I eventually mustered, willing my stomach to settle down while ignoring the harsh smell of his cologne.

“Is that my assignment you’re working on?” Mr. Hwang inquired as he took another sip of his coffee.

Is he just going to pretend like everything is okay? “Yeah,” I said, sliding my laptop screen closer. “For the author essay.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I shivered at the dark look in his gaze.

“I guess so,” I said, and I passed off my computer screen, observing the way he read over the words before sighing.

“You just don’t seem to understand, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said, and I could feel myself almost snapping.

“What don’t I understand, Mr. Hwang?” I asked with barely constrained frustration.

“Oh, please call me Hyunjin,” he replied. “Mr. Hwang makes me sound so old.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “But the essay?”

“It lacks passion,” Mr. Hwang explained. “Your writing is decent, but it’s very by the books, you know? I’m looking for my students to play around with their words and have fun! We read enough academia as it stands.”

“Passion?” I repeated. “And how do you suggest that I learn passion?”

Mr. Hwang smiled, and I felt like I had just walked right into a trap. “You’re a very young and attractive woman, Y/N,” he said. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

“Several,” I said, keeping my responses short and vague on purpose. Because i couldn’t figure out where he was going with this strange conversation.

“Several?” Mr. Hwang repeated. “Well, that’s a shame then.”

“What do you mean?”

“The sex must be very boring,” Mr. Hwang said. “If you’re still writing this way.”

I didn’t even bother trying to stop my mouth from falling open. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business!”

“I have to make it my business when your grades are this atrocious,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and his eyes rolled over my form. “I find myself quite attracted to you, Y/N. Perhaps I can help solve this little dilemma of yours.”

Fuck it! I thought to myself as I leaned in closer - ready to risk it all because I wouldn’t tolerate his attitude for another moment! “To tell you the truth, Mr. Hwang,” I said, feeling triumphant when his eyes flashed in annoyance at my blatant dismissal of his earlier request. “You’re just not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Mr. Hwang snapped. “Certainly not that little jock you were walking around with on campus?”

“Changbin?” I said without really thinking, but then I found myself wondering how he even knew about that in the first place. “How did you know?”

“I saw the two of you,” Mr. Hwang said like it wasn’t a big deal. “I couldn’t help but notice, Y/N, and that poor boy was following you around like a lost puppy.”

“This is crossing a line,” I said, slamming my laptop closed. “I can see anyone I want.”

“You’re not interested in doing better?” Mr. Hwang asked. “Trust me, Y/N. I was there once, and most college boys like him are only interested in sticking their dicks into something warm. I think you need someone mature who isn’t only interested in their own satisfaction.”

“Changbin’s sweet to me,” I insisted, and Mr. Hwang scoffed.

“I bet he is, especially if you’re always willing to spread your legs for him.”

“Like you could do any better!”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

I fell back into my seat as I slowly processed his words. “Sir, I-”

“You can’t possibly know if I’m your type, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang continued. “I think I deserve a fair chance to prove you wrong.”

I could scarcely believe how casual he was acting - like this wasn’t completely against thousands of school rules. It was entirely scandalous, and there were so many inherent risks if we were to ever get caught....but, yet, somewhere deep down inside of me, I felt the familiar heat of arousal.

“You’re thinking about it.” Mr. Hwang smiled. “Come over this Friday, Y/N, and I’ll show you what a real man looks like.”

I had never been this nervous before in my entire life, wiping my sweaty palms against my jeans as I walked up to Hyunjin’s apartment. There was a far more rational part of myself that was screaming at me to run in the opposite direction, but the incessant desire to knock on the door far outweighed the consequences. And my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him standing in the doorway dressed to the nines in tight skinny jeans and a white, button-up shirt while I looked like I had just woken up,

“There you are,” Hyunjin said with a sultry tone, and he reached for my hand to pull me inside. “Sit down for a moment,” he encouraged me, smirking at the look on my face as I took in his lavishly decorated apartment. Still, I managed to obey him as I sat down on the leather futon in the center of the room.

“Your apartment is nice,” I commented, and I held my breath when Hyunjin sat down next to me - stretching out his long legs while he studied me with an impenetrable gaze.

“I have a few rules tonight, Y/N,” he said, and I forced myself to nod. “Are you aware of the color-light system?”

“Color-light system?” I repeated.

“How adorable,” Hyunjin said with a mocking tone. “You’ve made it seem like you know your way around a cock, but you’re clearly more innocent than I assumed.”

My eyes widened at his filthy language. “Sir?”

“That’s a good start,” Hyunjin said. “You will refer to me as sir tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin smiled at my easy compliance.

“As for the color system,” Hyunjin said. “I want to make sure that you’re comfortable, Y/N. Green means that you can handle whatever we’re doing, yellow means that I need to slow down, and red implies that we’ll stop completely. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Hyunjin purred. “Would you feel more at ease in the bedroom?”

I offered him a timid nod, and Hyunjin held out his hand which I accepted - hoping that he wouldn’t notice the evidence of my nerves. But I was half-way expecting something truly horrible, which meant that I was also genuinely surprised to discover a normal bedroom - sparsely furnished with a king-sized bed with a beautiful silk comforter. “Why don’t you take your clothes off for me, princess?” Hyunjin asked, and I shivered at the familiar pet name. “Lay down on the bed, and I’ll grab a few things before we start.”

I waited until Hyunjin turned his back to me before undressing and leaving my clothes in a neat pile on a nearby chair. Then, I hesitantly lowered my body onto the mattress while resisting the urge to cover myself. Especially when Hyunjin returned with a bundle of interesting items, placing them aside while he looked me over from head to toe. “Oh, princess,” he said. “What a beautiful body.”

I could feel myself flushing at his words and Hyunjin laughed. “Where’s that feisty attitude from before, princess? Or was it all for show?”

“Mr. Hwang-”

“Sir,” he quickly corrected me, and I stiffened when he presented a bright red blindfold. “We’ll put this on first,” Hyunjin said, and he ordered me to sit up long enough for him to secure the tie in the back - taking away my sight and leaving me anxious for his next move. “This will make everything feel so much better,” he said, and I jumped when his fingers started to trail down the smooth skin of my stomach. “Oh, you must be very sensitive,” Hyunjin remarked, and I didn't quite know what to do with my hands when he parted the delicate folds of my pussy. “Y/N, are you already wet?” he asked, and I tried to hold back a moan when he inserted one finger, moving it around before leaving me feeling empty once again.

“Let’s try this,” Hyunjin said, and I gasped when I heard the familiar sounds of a vibrator. “You’ve probably used this plenty of times,” Hyunjin continued. “When you had to finish yourself off after those little boys tried to please you.”

He started with my nipples - moving in small circles around the hardened peaks. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, and I enjoyed the pleasant sensation. However, the soothing action didn’t last for long, and I gripped the silken sheets between my fingers, spreading my legs wider on instinct when Hyunjin trailed the vibrations down to my sensitive pussy lips. “Oh, shit,” I said, nearly exploding when the vibrator made contact with my clitoris. Especially when he increased the power - turning the damn thing up to its highest setting as he held it there in the same spot.

I was gone before it had even started, convulsing around nothing as I came hard against the sheets. And I fully expected him to stop since he had gotten his way, but Hyunjin only surprised me when he continued to move the vibrator against my throbbing clit, refusing to relinquish the stimulating vibrations as everything started to burn with the threat of yet another orgasm slowly building.

“Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere,” Hyunjin said, but there was only awe in his tone, and I could practically feel the weight of his gaze. “Such a good girl,” Hyunjin added, and he started moving the vibrator in faster circles while he refused to take it away from my poor, aching sex.

I moaned around my second orgasm - coming hard again, but there was also an undeniable sensitivity that had me trying to escape the cursed vibrator, but Hyunjin only used a firm grip on my hips to hold me in place.

“Please stop!” I cried.

“Color,” Hyunjin growled, and he continued to press down even harder.

“Y-yellow,” I stuttered, and the vibrations slowed down to a more acceptable level as Hyunjin circled the head around my clit.

“I want one more from you, Y/N,” he said. “Then, I think you might be ready for my cock.”

I almost fell apart at his words, and I found myself unable to deny that everything was so good with him. There was also a strange and foreign part of me that desperately wanted to please him, and I started rolling my hips in time with his circles, chasing another high as I nearly screamed from the intensity. “Look at you,” Hyunjin sneered when he turned off the vibrator, and I could feel the bed dip beneath his weight. He snatched away my blindfold, and I blinked rapidly at the returning light before focusing on the obscene image of Hyunjin jerking himself off in front of me. “You have to be honest with me, princess,” he growled. “Is my cock better than his?”

“S-sir?” I questioned, having trouble focusing because of the thick haze surrounding my frazzled brain.

“That little prick you were with,” Hyunjin said. “Is his cock better than mine?”

I was smart enough to know the right answer, and I shook my head from side to side. “Your cock is better, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin brightened with a grin.

“It’s big, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asked, and he was shuffling over me with a sardonic grin. “Why don’t you touch it?”

I swallowed hard, but quickly acquiesced, wrapping my hand around his impressive girth before allowing myself to give him several strokes - making sure to give some attention to the head. “Oh,” Hyunjin moaned, looking down at me with sultry eyes. “That feels good, princess, but would you rather have my cock somewhere else?”

I whimpered at his words. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me where,” Hyunjin demanded. “I want to know exactly what you want me to do, princess.”

“I want your cock in my pussy,” I said. “I need you to fuck me, sir.”

“Shit,” Hyunjin snarled, and he moved my legs apart to expose my cunt. “How can I possibly say no when you asked me so nicely?”

But I was a complete mess at this point - debauched and overcome with pleasure. Yet, when I felt the tip of Hyunjin’s cock penetrate my weeping sex, I could already feel myself growing excited all over again. He wasn’t gentle either - spearing me with one harsh plunge of his erection against the resisting walls of my pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” Hyunjin said. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin, princess?”

There were tears in my eyes when I reached out for his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he started moving himself around inside of me. Pulling back to leave just the tip of his cock at my entrance, before thrusting forward with unrelenting strength. In spite of his skinnier stature, Hyunjin wasn’t to be underestimated. He knew exactly how to use his hips, and he continued to breach my constricting cunt with everything that he had.

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” he said, forcing my legs even further apart, and finding a better angle to attack the delicate g-spot that rapidly sent me hurtling for my fourth orgasm of the night.

I was completely spent, barely holding on to consciousness while Hyunjin finally came with a hoarse cry of my name - dragging his cock in and out of my pussy as he milked himself for every last bit of cum. Then, he pulled himself out with a far more gentle touch, leaning down for the first time that night to connect our lips in a surprisingly warm kiss.

“Is that what you were expecting, Y/N?” he asked with a playful smile. “Am I still not your type?”

I shook my head because words were the last thing on my mind. But Hyunjin simply chuckled at my speechless state, and I watched him move around the room completely naked as he cleaned up the mess we had made. Meanwhile, I held up my hands to make sure that my vision had returned to normal.

Eventually, Hyunjin settled back down behind me, and I was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t kicked me out of his apartment. Even more so when he started to run his fingers down my waist. “I think you finally learned passion, Y/N,” he said, and I couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Can I start writing acceptable essays?” I asked him with a more confident tone.

“Of course,” he agreed. “But Y/N,” Hyunjin added, and I groaned when he cupped the heat between my legs. “You better call me Hyunjin from now on.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, grinning when I heard him growl in warning.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

I gave him a coy smile in return, watching as he rolled over top of me to spread my thighs again.

The next day in class, I smiled when I saw an A+ written at the top of my latest essay assignment. One that I had stayed up late to complete while sitting at Hyunjin’s desk with his cock buried inside my wet heat. Apparently, my first lesson was complete, but I couldn’t help but think that there was still a lot more left to learn.

“Everyone did well,” Hyunjin said as he paced at the front of the room. “I’ll see you all again soon.”

The dismissal was met with the beginnings of several conversations throughout the lecture room, and I simply organized my things before tossing my bag over my shoulder. Yet, on the way out the door, I couldn’t help but smile when I heard Hyunjin’s voice from behind me. “Y/N?” Hyunjin called out, and I could already feel the arousal gathering between my legs. “Why don’t you stay after class?”

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshots #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz hyunjin #skz hyunjin fanfic #stray kids hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x y/n #mostlycompetent

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raindancer2004 · 3 years

Text

Unloved and Unwanted?

Word Count: 3,395 Felix x Reader Part One. Warnings: Fluff Angst

Y/N was 17 years old when her entire life changed; her mother Molly died in a car accident and she found herself in Forks living with her father Charlie Swan, who she had never met. Charlie was shocked when he got a phone call from Child Services advising him about Y/N as he didn’t know she even existed. This made it hard for Charlie to accept her; as a result he struggled to build relationship with Y/N once she arrived in Forks. Charlie and Sue were busy working and planning their wedding; leaving little time to help Y/N settle in.

Bella had already moved out as she was married to Edward Cullen and they had a daughter Renesmee. Bella did not make an effort to meet her younger half-sister, choosing to ignore her.

Y/N didn’t make any friends at her new school either, she went almost unnoticed there. She felt truly alone and it only made her miss her mom even more, especially as they had been very close before the accident.

One Saturday morning Bella dropped Renesmee off at Charlie’s for a visit but didn’t stay herself as she had things to do. After a few hours Charlie was called into the station due to an emergency and as Y/N was home he asked her to keep an eye on Renesmee. This surprised Y/N as she had only met Renesmee briefly a few times as she was not included in ‘family time’ during Renesmee’s visits. This led to Y/N staying in her room during Renesmee’s visits as to not be in the way. In fact Y/N stayed in her room even when Renesmee wasn’t around for the same reason.

Y/N and Renesmee baked chocolate chips cookies and watched a few Disney films together, before Charlie came home with take out. Y/N had dinner with them that night but only because Renesmee asked her to join them. Charlie did not engage Y/N in conversation other than to ask about what she and Renesmee did whilst he was at work.

That night when Renesmee got home she told her family about the time she spent with Y/N; how much she liked her and that she felt sorry for her as she had lost her mom. This conversation prompted Bella to finally decide to meet Y/N; six months after she had moved to Forks.

This decision prompted Alice to have a vision;

Y/N was in Italy with the Volturi; more specifically with Felix, one of the elite guards. They didn’t look happy together either with Felix leaving Y/N alone in her room and making his way to the throne room for guard duty.

Felix spending his evenings with Demetri and Santiago playing cards or playing on his computer console with other members of the guard when not on guard duty at night.

Y/N’s room was not very big and was barely decorated and the only visitors she got other than Felix was Gianna, who bought her meals every day, Heidi and Demetri who check in on her.

Edward saw the vision as it happened and knew what he had to; for this solved a problem for everyone, Y/N would leave Forks and live in Volterra. He filled his siblings and Bella in on the plan and they all agreed. “She’ll be someone’s else’s problem soon, Charlie still isn’t warming to the idea of having another daughter around” Edward told them, having read Charlie’s mind the last time he was over there “Bella, you need to befriend Y/N and bring her over so we can inform her about Vampires; the Volturi and her mate” Bella agreed instantly.

Bella met with Y/N at Charlie’s a few days later “Hello Y/N, I’m Bella. I’m sorry for not coming over sooner to meet you” “Hi Bella, that’s ok. It’s nice to finally meet you” Y/N replied “Yeah you too. How are you settling in?” Bella asked “I’m settling in ok, thanks” Y/N lied.

They spent the afternoon talking to each other attempting to get to know one another. Y/N couldn’t help feeling suspicious of Bella; wondering why she came over to meet her and why she was being nice to her after ignoring her the last six months.

The following Friday Bella called and invited Y/N over to the Cullen house “Hello Y/N, I hope you are ok. I’m calling to invite you over tomorrow. I think it would be nice for you to meet Edwards’s siblings” “Err, ok thanks. Sounds nice, thank you” Y/N relied. The following morning Bella drove to Charlie’s and picked up Y/N and bought her back to the main house. When they arrived Bella introduced her to everyone “Y/N this is my husband Edward” She said pointing to Edward “Hello Edward, it’s nice to meet you” Y/N greeted “You too Y/N” Edward smiled “These are my siblings Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice” He continued; they all smiled and said hello to Y/N and she did the same in return. “My father Carlisle is at the hospital and my mother Esme has taken Renesmee out for the day. Hopefully you’ll meet them next time” Edward added.

Neither Carlisle nor Esme knew of Edward’s plan or the other’s involvement as they all knew that they wouldn’t agree with or support their plan.

They all sat down in the family room and explained to Y/N that they were vampires and that they feed off of animals instead of humans; hence their golden eyes. They explained that vampires have something called a ‘mate’; one person they would love, protect and spend an eternity with. They also explained that Rose and Emmett were mates; as were Jasper and Alice, Edward and Bella and lastly Carlisle and Esme. Alice explained that her, Jasper, Edward and Bella had ‘gifts’ and explained which each one was. Y/N nodded trying to take in the information so far

Emmett went onto explain about the Volturi who lived in Italy; how they were the rulers of the vampire world enforcing the laws, one of which was that humans were not allowed to know of their existence. “Why have you told me then?” Y/N asked confused. “We have told you about vampires because Alice has had a vision and it showed you with your mate; who is an elite Volturi guard” Edward answered. “What does that mean for me?” She asked “It means that you would need to go to Volterra to be with him. If they came here to check on Renesmee and found out that we knew you were the mate of one of their guards and we didn’t tell them; they would kill us and take you to Italy forcibly” Edward continued. “What is the guard I’m mated to like?” She asked. The Cullen siblings and Bella looked at each other before Rosalie answered her “He is known for being the strongest vampire in the world and has killed many vampires and humans alike” Shock flashed across Y/N’s face at hearing this “The Volturi do not like humans much; seeing them as not much more than their food source. So the news of one of their elite guards being mated to a human will not go down well” Rosalie continued. “He will likely reject you as his mate as you’re human” Bella added “I-If he is to reject me…why does he need to know about me?” Y/N asked. Noone answered her straight away, again looking at each other silently deciding who would answer her.

“As I said before, they would kill us if they found out we kept you from your mate. We can’t and won’t risk our lives for you” Edward replied rather matter of factly; Y/N said nothing. “You need to know more about your mate” Bella added and Y/N nodded, waiting for someone to continue.

“The Volturi do not usually allow newborns in the castle; however, they will make an exception for you…” “What do you mean newborns?” Y/N cut Edward off sounding confused “Newborns are what newly turned vampires are called” Bella answered her, Y/N nodded “You’ll spend your newborn years in the dungeon and provided your mate remembers you’re down there; you’ll more than likely be taken to a room in one of the towers…where you will spend your eternity once you’re no longer a newborn” Edward informed her “W-Why did you say if he remembered I was in the dungeon?” She asked a little worried “Edward means there are vampires that have been down in the dungeons for decades if not centuries. They kinda get forgotten about” Alice replied quickly “So if I am to be rejected, why would he keep me in the castle?” Y/N asked feeling confused. Jasper answered her this time “Once he meets you the mate bond will kick in and he will feel protective of you and will need to know that you are safe. If a vampire loses their mate they become heartbroken and overtime they fall into a deep depression and he won’t want that; the Volturi leaders won’t want that either as he is too valuable to them. This will still apply even after his rejection of you” “Oh” Was all Y/N could say.

“Some of the Volturi are gifted too, so you won’t be able to run and hide either as they have the world’s best tracker and they will send him after you and he will find you and drag you back to Volterra kicking and screaming if he has to. You’ll also see the cruel side of your mate too if you were to run from him” Emmett added; all of them being careful not to reveal Y/N’s mate’s name. “You leave for Volterra in three days. We have already bought you a ticket and to ensure you actually get there I will accompany you” Edward says. “So I don’t have a choice in this?” Y/N asked “No you don’t!” Bella said sharply. “Edward I don’t think going to Volterra with another human is a good idea. We have letters for her and Aro; I think it’s best if she goes alone” Alice says looking at Edward, who nods “Fine, but I’m taking her to the airport regardless. I’ll pick you up at 8pm Tuesday Y/N” Y/N just nods in response. Y/N made sure to not think about how she felt about this around Edward knowing that he may be able to read her mind.

Later that night Y/N started packing a few things for her trip and couldn’t help her thoughts ‘I find out I have a soulmate; someone who’s supposed to love me forever, only to find out that he won’t want me. He’ll just reject me and lock me away forever. I don’t know why I’m so surprised that someone else who is supposed to love me doesn’t. It’s the story of my life recently, being unwanted and unloved. It’s bad enough I have to stay here with Charlie who doesn’t want me around.’ Tears slipped down her cheeks at the thought of being unloved, unwanted and locked away forever, just to be forgotten about. She cried herself to sleep that night.

The following morning Charlie opens a letter informing him that Y/N has been accepted into an Art college in Italy and that she is due there in a few days. Alice had put the letter together as a cover story for Y/N to leave Forks. “Morning, Y/N. This came yesterday after I left for work; it’s an acceptance letter for an Art college in Italy. They need you there in a few days so you should get packing” Charlie said smiling as Y/N entered the kitchen “Oh ok, I’ll-I’ll do that” Y/N couldn’t believe the Cullens had faked a letter to get her to Italy; clearly they wanted her gone and soon.

A few days later Edward dropped Y/N off at the airport “Here this is a letter for Aro; make sure to give it to him when you arrive at the castle. This letter is for you to read on the plane, it’s basically tells you what we told you the other night. When you arrive a car will be waiting to take you Volterra. Safe flight” He gets back in the car and drives away leaving Y/N at the airport alone.

Y/N sits on the plane reading the letter addressed to her; and it’s a repeat of the information she was told a few days ago. She thought about not going to Italy but figured the Cullens will know if she doesn’t arrive or they’ll call Aro to check that she arrived so it’s probably just easier to go voluntarily rather than be chased down by the Volturi’s tracker and incur the wrath of her mate.

The plane lands and Y/N makes her way through to the airport to the waiting car “Miss Y/S/N?” The man asks “Yes, you’re taking me to Volterra?” Y/N replies “Yes miss. Get in the car please” The man says placing her case in the trunk. Y/N is dropped off just outside of the town square “The castle is just up there; you can’t miss it as there’s a huge fountain in the middle of the square” “Thank you” Y/N said taking her case from the driver.

Y/N made her way to the town square and sat down on the fountain trying to get the courage up to walk into a castle full of vampires; knowing that once she’s inside she’ll never be allowed to leave. Unknown to Y/N she is being watched by Heidi who has stepped outside of the castle to see if there are any tourists around that she can add to the ‘castle tour’ scheduled for tomorrow. With her enhanced sight Heidi notices that Y/N holding an envelope in her hands whilst looking at the castle and after about an hour Heidi makes her way over to Y/N “Are you ok?” She asks sitting beside her “I think so” Y/N replies sounding unsure. “I’m Heidi by the way, so what brings you to Volterra?” Y/N notices Heidi’s eyes are a lilac colour and her skin is pale but looks perfect, just like the Cullens “I’m Y/N. I’ve been sent here to meet my mate, not that he’s going to happy about it. In fact I’ve been told that…he won’t want me” Y/N says looking down handing Heidi her letter “It’s all explained in here”

Heidi takes the letter reading it and it explains that Y/N is mated to one of the elite guards and as soon as she reads ‘he is the strongest vampire in the world’ she knows who Y/N’s mate is. Heidi frowns as she continues to read the letter as she doesn’t like what she is reading. It is depicting Felix as cruel when he is actually kind despite him coming across as intimidating due to his physical appearance. She also knows that Felix would his love his mate whether she be human or vampire as he has been waiting a long time to meet her and would be hurt if he knew that his mate thought of him this way. “Who gave you this letter?” Heidi asks sounding a little upset “Edward Cullen handed me this letter at the airport for me to read to remind me about what awaits me upon landing here. I also have another letter for Aro” She tells Heidi “How come you showed me this letter?” Heidi asks “You are a vampire and I’m guessing you live in the castle” Y/N replies “How did you…” Y/N cuts Heidi off “You have pale skin like the Cullens and you came from the direction of the castle and you didn’t seem surprised when I mentioned the word ‘mate’ nor when you were reading the letter” “Huh, very true. Would you like me to take you inside to meet Aro?” Heidi asks “I’m not sure if I’m ready to go in just yet” Y/N replies quietly “Ok I’ll wait with you until you’re ready” “Thank you Heidi.” Y/N gives Heidi a small smile. After an hour of sitting on the fountain making small talk Heidi and Y/N make their way into the castle; Heidi taking Y/N’s hand in hers “Do not let go of my hand Y/N” “Ok” Y/N nods.

Once inside the castle Heidi heads straight to the reception desk “Hi Gianna, this is Y/N. I need you to take this to Aro for me please” Heidi says handing her a quick note asking to meet with him, Caius and Marcus and minimal guards as she has a delicate matter to discuss. Heidi and Y/N wait in reception for Gianna to return “Heidi, Y/N, Aro is ready for you and the guards have been dismissed except for Jane and Demetri” Heidi was pleased Felix wouldn’t be in the room during this conversation.

They arrive at throne room “Good afternoon masters” Heidi greets them with a smile “Heidi so good to see you and you have bought a human with you” Aro replies curious. “There is a very good reason for that. This is Y/N and she has a letter for you from the Cullens” Caius’ attention is piqued when he hears the Cullens name mentioned. “May I see the letter please my dear?” Aro asks “Of course” Y/N responds handing the letter over. Y/N and Heidi watch Aro’s facial expressions as he reads the letter and he doesn’t seem happy. “What’s in the letter brother?” Caius asks impatiently; Aro extends his arm holding out the letter for him. “Y/N my dear, when did you learn about us?” Aro asks “A few days ago, I was invited to the Cullen’s house and Edward, his siblings and Bella informed me about vampires, the Volturi and…mates” She answered “Do you know who your mate is?” Caius interjects “Not exactly. I only know that he is one of the elite guards…and is known for being the strongest vampire in the world. Also that he along with the rest of you don’t like humans much…there-therefore he won’t want me…as his mate. I’ve been told that I will be rejected and locked away” Y/N replies not looking at Caius “WHAT?!” Caius screams; Heidi and Y/N flinch at this, Heidi grips Y/N’s hand in a comforting gesture. Y/N’s comment also gains Marcus’ attention whilst Jane and Demetri look on curiously.

Caius storms down the steps to stand beside Aro “If you know you are to be rejected why did you come here?” Aro asks gently “Edward told me if you found out that they knew I was the mate of one of your guards and they didn’t tell you; you would kill them…and bring me here by force. He said they wouldn’t risk their lives for me. They also said that if I were to run and hide…you-you would send the world’s best tracker after me; who would find me and…bring me here…kicking and screaming if needed and…I would incur the wrath of my mate…who can be rather cruel. I-I figured it was just easier to come here willingly” She replied quietly looking down. Demetri felt himself get a little angry hearing that the Cullens had used him to threaten the human girl into coming to Volterra. “You mentioned being locked away, what do you mean by this?” Caius asked confusion clearly showing on his face “Edward told me that you do not usually allow newborns in the castle; however, you will make an exception for me…that I’d spend my newborn years in the dungeon and…provided my mate remembers I’m down there; he’ll come and get me… lock me away in the tower where I’ll spend eternity once I’m no longer a newborn”

A look of shock crossed the faces of the three kings as well as Jane’s and Demetri’s upon hearing this. “I want you know that I don’t intend to object to the rejection” Y/N added. “Why would you accept the rejection child?” Marcus asks curiously joining his brothers at the bottom of the steps “Not being wanted is not a new thing for me. I’m not going to make someone be with me if they don’t want to be. I have no intention of messing up his life just because I’m not wanted back home either” Y/N replied looking at Marcus, who gave her a small smile.

‘Poor beautiful, broken girl.’ Heidi thought to herself listening to this last part.

#felix volturi #demetri volturi #jane volturi #alec volturi #aro volturi #marcus volturi #caius volturi #heidi volturi #volturi #the cullens

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inkrabbit · 3 years

Text

Too Good to be True - Micah x GN!Reader

You know, I started writing this. Hated it. Pulled it back up cause I like the concept and finished it. So here we are.

Summary: While working the general store in place of your father, you meet a new face. The two of you hit it off quick, but when events transpire in Valentine, you find yourself making a quick decision.

Word count: 2,340

The start of spring had proved it was here to make an impact on you. Having broken his leg and too busy nursing it, your elderly father had put you in charge of the general store in Valentine. It hadn’t been the first time he had done this, broken limb and all, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. This wasn’t your first time working for the man, and you found yourself doing it more often than not whenever he didn’t feel like getting up and running the store. However, it wasn’t too bad. The store wasn’t that far from home and folk that resided in Valentine had loved you and your family from the moment you all had moved. They were friendly for the most part, coming in and greeting you with smiles as they picked out what they had wanted. You would lend them the catalog anytime they wanted something from the back, and you helped them pick out items for jobs or even gifts. But even with the tame life, you always felt as though you were missing something.

A week into you running the shop was when things started changing. A man you had never seen before had entered the shop in the late evening, blue eyes looking you up and down with a crooked smirk as he started to browse. He certainly stood out from the rest of the townsfolk. His white hat was dusty and stained of dirt, his blond hair reaching his shoulders. His leather coat, while still a good shade of black, had also looked like it had seen its fair share of better days. He had peaked your curiosity from the moment he walked through that door, bell chiming as you two made eye contact.

“Haven’t seen you before,” you comment, catching his attention. He turns away from the cigarettes, showing off his green neckerchief a bit more as he raises his head, eyebrows raised and waiting for you to continue. “You new to Valentine? Or just passin’ through?”

“Depends on the company,” he replies with a playful tone, going to turn back around and continue his search for what he needed. “They all look like you? Might just have to stay.”

“Well, is that so?” You lean against the counter, listening to him chuckle softly.

“Oh, it is so, darlin’,” he purrs, snatching up a can of tobacco chew and strutting over to you. He sets it down none too gently, resting his hand on the top of the counter and inspecting you further. He gives you a toothy grin, mischievous but intriguing. “So, what’s your name, anyway? Gotta be as beautiful as you.”

And he said it was when you told him. You have had customers flirt with you before, complimenting your looks and even how you worked so diligently, but this man – Micah Bell the third, he said his name was – was the only one who caught and held your interest even long after he left the shop, promising to visit again real soon so you two could get to know each other better. You had stood there, smiling like an idiot far after he had left the store with a wink, questions running through your head. You wanted to know where he came from, what he did and exactly who he was.

So those were all questions you asked whenever Micah would return to the store. He seemed to come back every other day to help you close shop, roaming the town with you as you asked everything you could, your arms linked and some of the townsfolk giving you questioning looks as you would giggle at his comments. Oh, but he was a mystery of a person, responding to your questions with vague answers. He did “this and that” for work, and he lived “you know… here and there”. It was irritating to no end, but he had confessed that it wasn’t the right moment to explain everything. Honestly, you were worried he had a family waiting for him back home, but he had laughed out loud when you voiced these concerns. He told you of a “family”, but it wasn’t the one you were worried about.

Every night it was the same. The two of you would walk around Valentine, sometimes going to the saloon to get something to drink and relax. You had found yourself feeling more relaxed than you had been in a long time, and those soft touches he would trail along your hand with his would send a shiver up your spine.

“So, how’s that father of yours?” he asks as he takes a sip of his whiskey. You had told him of the fall your father had taken the week prior to you two meeting when he had asked if you worked at the store all alone.

“He’s doing fine. Practically better now, but he’s bein’ a baby,” you tell him with a smile. He hums, nodding his head as his thumb brushes your knuckles. “Business been slow, though. Wishin’ it would kick back up.”

“Money gettin’ tight?” he questions. You give him a nod, sighing softly. He listened to your story, almost intently as you told him about the bills that had been piling up. Of course, you had shrugged it off, telling him it would all work out. He just gives you another hum.

And just like the other nights, when your fun would have to come to an end, he would walk you back home. You would thank him for the nice time, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, something he had to get used to. The first time you had done it, he had seemed so surprised, but had quickly recovered with that smug grin. He always waited until you got inside safely, too. You weren’t sure if he knew, but you would always peek out the window and watch him walk away, whistling for his horse. You always wondered where he went, and what that “family” of his was like. He had told you his father passed and didn’t admit to having any siblings.

You hadn’t seen Micah for a few days after that, and you had worried that confessing to your family’s money problem had put him off. Or, maybe he was just a drifter that had finally decided to pack up and head off somewhere else. Whatever the case was, you found yourself missing his company. His gruff voice and those sweet compliments he would always give you as he pulled you closer. Well, there was always tomorrow. At least, you hoped. Closing up shop and making your way home. However, as you walk up the steps leading up to your porch, you notice a little lockbox sitting on the bench, its lock busted. Curiously, you pick it up and open the top, peering inside. There’s a small piece of paper with your name scribbled on it, atop a stack of money that almost makes you choke. You don’t know how much there is, but you take it inside after a moment’s hesitation. You remove the paper with your name, tossing it into the trash and heading to your room. Setting the lockbox on your nightstand, you close the top and sit down on the edge of your bed. Maybe you would talk to your father about it tomorrow after dinner.

By the time the evening comes tomorrow, Valentine is in lockdown. You heard the officers firing at some “Van der Linde”, and a sheriff had urged you to stay inside the shop and keep your head down until it was safe to come out. It felt like a lifetime before everything outside had stopped and someone had told you everything was okay. He had looked you over and made sure you weren’t hurt before he sent you on your way. You were to go straight home and stay safe. Wishing him luck on catching the outlaws, you made your way down the road and towards home.

“There you are, darlin’!” Micah was the last person you expected to see lingering around your property. However, he seemed jumpy and in a hurry.

“And where have you been, Mister Bell?” you ask him. He doesn’t exactly reply, just walks over to take your hands, giving one of them a kiss.

“Walk with me, darlin’,” he says, leading you away from your house. You give him a curious look but you follow regardless. He’s leading you further and further away from Valentine, just on the outskirts, and you notice this is the first time you two are walking without your arms linked, but instead your fingers laced together.

“You gonna tell me what all this is about, Micah?” You finally ask. He groans softly, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“I gotta move,” he tells you. The same disappointment you had when he didn’t show up at the shop hits you again. Of course. You didn’t know what to expect, honestly. Settle down with a man who had a shady background? Just your luck.

“Of course you do…” Your voice is low and your hand slips from his as you cross your arms, staring down at the ground. Micah’s quick, however, stepping forward to grab your face with a gentle touch so you’re looking at him again. Those blue eyes are finally filled with a different emotion, and if you had to guess, you’d say it was worry.

“Now, don’t you start that, darlin’,” he coos, thumb stroking your cheek. “Look, I know I ain’t been truthful and it ain’t been fair to you. But I just… I need you to trust me, one last time.”

“Trust you for what, Micah?” you question. He inhales deeply, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before he pulls back.

“Come back with me,” His words hit you like one of those trains you had heard all about. Your mind goes a mile a minute, thinking of every possible outcome as you open your mouth.

“Micah… I…” You don’t know what you’re going to say. Sure, you had one day longed to pick up and move from your parents house and have your own life. But for Micah to just so suddenly tell you he has to leave and wanted you to tag along. It was something out of those fairy tale books, where Prince Charming comes to take the princess away to a fantasy land to live happily ever after. You never exactly considered yourself some princess locked away somewhere, but as Micah speaks, it becomes more convincing.

“It ain’t gonna be easy, I’ll admit,” he starts softly, removing his hands from your face to once again hold yours. “but we’ll make it work, doll. You an’ me? We’ll be alright. I’ll show you the ropes and make sure you know how to take care of yourself. We’d be free, together.”

“What about my parents?” you finally ask. You can see him falter, but he regains himself quick.

“We can send them money!” he responds, and he seems to be getting more anxious as the seconds go by. “C’mon, sweetheart. Trust me this once and come with me?”

You take a moment to think it over. Perhaps this was what you were missing in your life? Micah keeps looking around, but a smile finally breaks out on his nervous face when you finally tell him “yes”. His arms envelope around you in a tight embrace, a barking laugh escaping his lips as he lifts you up and swings you around. Finally being set back on the ground, you’re greeted with a bright grin as he lifts a hand, whistling for his horse.

“You won’t regret this, darlin’,” he promises. You just give him a smile as a Missouri Fox Trotter makes its way over. Micah helps you on the back of the animal before mounting up himself. The plan was to go pack your things, leave a note for your parents that you were hightailing it out of there and would eventually be back to visit. You knew your father was pretty much back to his normal self and had just been letting you continue to run the shop so he could continue his “vacation”, as you liked to call it. You left the note on top of the broken lockbox, making sure to keep the top open to show off the money inside. And once you were done, suitcase in hand, Micah helps you back up. It almost feels surreal as he spurs his horse, Baylock.

Along the way down the road, Micah finally comes clean, though he sounds reluctant to do so. He had confessed that he was the one who had left the lockbox at your doorstep, and when he tells you about how he’s part of an outlaw gang, you’re almost surprised to hear the name “Van der Linde” again. The same group that had tore up your hometown a few days prior. Apparently someone his leader had stolen from was looking for vengeance, which had ultimately escalated to a gunfight. Of course, this didn’t sit right with you, but Micah’s colossal hand reaches back to gently rest on your knee.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he coos as he glances back to look at you, “We’re gonna be alright. I just need ya to… have some faith in me.”

And truth be told, you do. With an arm hooked snugly around his waist, you rest your head on his shoulder and let out a soft hum. He doesn’t tell you everything, and you didn’t expect him to. But he tells you enough about the gang, and tells you the plan his leader, Dutch, has. A trip to Tahiti once they get enough money, and Micah promises you a spot on the boat right next to him. It sounds nice. A fairy tale ending. You don’t even notice the smile that graces your lips as you imagine what it’d be like in Tahiti with him and the rest of the group.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #micah bell #gn!reader #micah bell x reader #oneshot #I still hate this

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Text

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 5/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The Final is a big deal. Even more so this year since it’s the last international competition before the Olympics — the last chance to show the world that you’re worthy of their attention come February. Buck’s been to five of the last eight Finals, and usually all the extra attention from press and fans, even during non-Olympic seasons, make him giddy with excitement, adrenaline pumping through him for almost a solid week before he actually competes.

This time, however, it’s been a week of feeling like he’s going to throw up any second.

It’s not because he’s doing bad at practices — in fact, he’s feeling better than ever, even got to work out his shaky landing on his quad flip that’s been haunting him for weeks. Ice looks the same no matter where you are, so it’s easy for him to get lost in the two hours he’s out there and forget everything and everyone else around him while he works.

When he steps off the ice, though, he’s thrust right back into a world where everyone is keeping an eye on him, watching him to see if he’ll live up to the expectations of being one of the best US skaters a top Olympic hopeful, or if he’ll crumble under the pressure of trying to be the best but always falling a little bit short, especially since the last Games. He’s always viewed it as a redemption — overcoming his injury and clawing his way back to the top — but he can’t control how outsiders view it, has no idea if they feel the same way or have counted him out all together. ESPN can do as many pieces on him as they want, but they can’t guarantee that people are still rooting for him. He’s sure people are talking about him, but he’s steered clear of social media knowing that even if there are nice things about him floating around, it’ll still make him feel worse, crushed by more and more expectations that he’s still not sure he’s going to live up to.

He misses when all that attention would make him feel like he was invincible.

The biggest thing keeping him sane — despite the 6,000 miles between LA and Turin — is Eddie. They’d seen each other plenty before Buck left, Eddie still coming to the rink every day for PT and light workouts so he could stay in shape while he recovered. It was good, it was normal, even if Eddie wasn’t skating.

But the night before his flight to Italy, the prospect of being at one of the most important competitions of the season, of his life, without most of his other teammates had hit him hard once again, sucking all the air out of his lungs and making the room spin.

He called Eddie without even thinking and barely heard him say “Hello?” before he was spilling everything, letting out all the fears and worries he had been trying to keep under control since Bobby told him he was going to the Final. Despite being caught very off guard at 12:30 in the morning, Eddie had listened to it all — really listened, Buck could tell even over the phone. He sympathized with his fears and doubts and didn’t try to downplay them with empty platitudes. And somehow, in those frantic moments, to be heard like that was enough. Enough for the worries in Buck’s head to quiet down and retreat back into the shadows, enough for him to finally be able to breathe. They kept talking afterwards, the smooth timbre of Eddie’s voice making his eyes feel heavier and heavier, until they close and open again to sunlight filtering into his room, his phone on the pillow next to him with a disconnected call and a text that says You’re going to be amazing. Call me whenever you need me.

Buck didn’t think he’d take Eddie up on that, but he’s called him every day since he arrived and every time, no matter what time it is, Eddie picks up and listens to him.

On the last day of practice before short programs, dread settles heavy in Buck’s stomach and doesn’t get any lighter as the day wears on. He skates at the practice rink until his fingers feel numb with cold, and works out after even longer, blasting music in his headphones so he’s not alone with his thoughts for too long. He’s exhausted when he gets back to his room, the quiet that’s become so unfamiliar mixing with the dread and weighing down Buck’s entire body, feeling like it’s trying to push him straight down into the earth. Sinking onto the bed, he dials Eddie’s number.

Five rings, and no answer. He tries again. Nothing.

He tosses his phone to the side and sighs. The dread had lightened ever so slightly at the mere prospect of getting to talk to Eddie, but now it’s back in full force. If he lays here for too long, he’s worried he might melt right into the bedspread.

There’s a knock at the door, and takes every ounce of mental and physical strength he has to get him up. He has a brief, delusional thought that maybe the person on the other side of the door is the same one who didn’t answer his phone, but it’s quickly squashed when there’s another knock, followed by a voice that’s definitely not Eddie’s.

“Buck? I know you’re in there, and I can get my hands on a master key if you don’t let me in right now.”

Hen.

He opens the door quickly, because he thinks she’s bluffing, but there’s also a very real chance that she’s not. He stands at his full height, pushing back against the dread, and plasters on a smile. “Don’t tell me you have notes 12 hours before the competition starts?”

She looks him up and down, looks through him it seems, judging by the way he suddenly wants to curl in on himself, hide whatever it is she’s looking for. She finds it, he guesses, because she nods decisively and pushes into his room. She grabs his still packed skating bag from the foot of the bed and tosses him his jacket as she goes back into the hallway.

“Come on,” she calls over her shoulder. “We’re going for a drive.”

It takes a minute for Buck’s brain to catch up with everything, but when it does, he hustles to meet her at the elevators. They make their way to the parking lot next to the hotel, where Hen unlocks the Fiat Bobby had rented for the week to get them around. “Bobby’s cool with you taking the car?”

She shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

“So I’m basically being kidnapped right now.”

“You would’ve stayed in your room if you really didn’t want to come.”

He smiles a real smile at that — she knows him too well.

Turin is beautiful at night. The city bustles with energy as people mill around, window shopping and filling up tables outside of cafes despite the early December chill. Christmas decorations have already been hung in windows and strung over rooftops, thousands of lights washing the streets in twinkling colors. Buck lets his eyes relax as he stares out the window, losing himself in the colors that pass by, hoping they’ll burn the heaviness right out of him. They stop outside the Palavela, standing out in its shadowy height among the brightness, decked out in ISU flags in anticipation for the start of competition tomorrow. Hen turns off the car and gets out, walking into the shadows of the arena and almost disappearing before Buck catches up. They make their way to the service entrance at the back of the building, where Hen pulls a key out of her coat pocket and unlocks the door.

Buck’s jaw drops. “I believed you about the hotel, but how did you get a key to this place?”

“A lot of people owe me a lot of favors,” she says, leading the way through the back hallways.

It occurs to Buck that he doesn’t even know why they’re here, didn’t bother to ask, but regardless, he follows her deeper into the belly of the building. Hallways twist and turn as they follow them seemingly at random, until they finally make it to a set of double doors. Hen pushes them open, and Buck has a moment of panic when he sees what’s on the other side.

“Isn’t it bad luck to see the main rink the day before a competition?”

Hen rolls her eyes and walks inside. “You’re not getting married, Buck. And we’re not just here for the ice.” She keeps moving, up into the stands and further up the stairs to the mid-level walkway. It’s a former Olympic venue, so there’s thousands and thousands of seats, and the reminder that in a few short hours, they’ll be filled with people waiting to see Buck thrive or fail spectacularly weighs him down even more, coming down on his shoulders and threatening to make him stumble. He does stumble when he runs into Hen, who’s stopped dead center of the walkway, eyes warm and bright as she nods towards the other side of the rink.

Tears swim into his vision, but not because of shot nerves or worry this time (though those may be contributing to how quickly this is making him emotional).

Fans bring posters to events all the time — beautiful, handmade posters emblazoned with flags and encouraging quotes, showing their love for their favorite skaters and teams. They’re made of cardboard or printed on fabric, but are usually small, hard to see unless you’re watching on TV or very close to the boards. Sometimes, though — with special permission from the venue, usually — they go big, creating huge tarps that get hung up on the banisters surrounding the seats and stay there all week, loudly cheering for their favorites even when they may not be in the stands.

Which is exactly what Buck comes face to face with — two banners hung across part of the middle banister, covering at least 15 seats. One has a picture of him from Autumn Classic, smiling with his gold medal, with “Go Buck Go!” in big block letters over his head, all on a deep red background and surrounded by golden fireworks. The other — the one that really takes his breath away — is a collage of pictures from his programs over the years, some of his more memorable spins and poses emblazoned across the dark blue fabric. His final pose from his short this season, reaching toward the crowd and looking off into the distance, is featured most prominently, with an ornate script next to it that reads “Evan Buckley: Future Olympic Champion”.

He grips the railing a little tighter to keep himself steady, feels Hen’s hand rubbing up and down his back.

“How—” he starts, voice a little raw.

“Bobby and I saw them when we came by earlier to get our credentials. We think someone hung them up after the short dance today so they’d be ready for tomorrow.”

“Wow,” is all Buck can manage. He’s seen his face on plenty of posters, but never like this, never something that he could see from anywhere in the arena, loudly proclaiming that there are fans in his corner, people beyond himself and his sister that see him at the top of the Olympic podium. He knows they're out there, rationally, when he’s not riddled with nerves and self doubt, but still. It’s nice to be reminded. And what a reminder this is.

“I know it’s been a rough week for you,” Hen says quietly, hand still on his back. “But just...take this in. Let it push you through the next few months. They’re rooting for you, Buck. We all are. You’ve got to keep rooting for yourself too.”

As usual, she’s right — Buck went into this season as his own biggest fan, with one goal in mind that felt like it had been slipping farther and farther away with every fall and every less than perfect score. That drive to win gold becoming more and more desperate as the weeks wore on — like if he didn’t get back to where he should be, where he needed to be, he might not survive. But he has people — his team, his family, and fans like this — who are still envisioning that success for him, who believe in him no matter what. Who will still be in his corner even if he doesn’t make it to the top. Who he wants to prove right for believing in him.

Hen pats his back one last time and heads back down the stairs. Buck lingers a little longer, taking in every detail of the banners that he can, since he won’t be able to appreciate them properly tomorrow. He sneaks a few pictures on his phone, quickly shooting them off to Maddie and Eddie. It doesn’t feel like bragging — they’re at the very top of the list of people that have constantly pulled him up when he falls down the hardest. He knows they’ll appreciate this for him, just like Hen did. They’ll understand how much this means to him.

As he follows Hen’s path down the stairs, the heaviness he had convinced himself was etched into his bones feels like it stays behind, making it easier to breathe, easier to be.

Hen’s next to the boards holding his skates out to him. “You’ve got like 30 minutes — skate it out. I’ll stand watch by the door.” He takes them and sets them on the bench before enveloping her in a hug, rocking back and forth as she laughs into his shoulder. She ruffles his hair and pats his cheek before going to her post.

He feels at peace on the ice, finally. The cold isn’t harsh, it’s invigorating. The fluorescent lights aren’t too bright, they’re comforting, lighting up the grooves and divots of the ice, showing all the paths Buck can follow. A couple of laps gets his blood pumping, roaring in his ears and blocking out everything else. He starts with some easy steps — rockers and three turns, over and over like he did in skating lessons when he was a kid, losing himself in the repetition. When he feels good, really good, he goes for a quad flip, confidence flowing into every stroke as he gets in position. He takes off, and he feels light again — right again — like he’s flying, not falling, not sinking.

Figuratively and literally rising.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s two missed calls from Eddie when he gets back to his room, and still riding the high of his good mood, he FaceTimes him.

“Wow, I really missed that smile,” Eddie says when the call connects, and Buck rolls his eyes, not even bothering to hide the blush he can feel warm his cheeks. Eddie must have just gotten back from PT — his hair is falling in swoops over his forehead, damp with sweat, his tank top sticking to what little Buck can see of his chest. His blush gets a couple of shades darker, he’s sure, as he tries not to let his eyes linger anywhere for too long.

Buck flops onto the bed on his back, holding his phone in front of his face. “I had a pretty good night,” he says with feigned nonchalance.

“Seeing banners of your giant face already proclaiming you the next gold medalist will do that to you.” Buck laughs and Eddie laughs with him, the sound like pure happiness, burning out the very last of the dread that had been following him since he arrived. It stops quickly when Eddie sits down on his couch and hisses, wincing as he shuffles to get comfortable.

“Rough day with Lena?” He saw her every day for two months straight once upon a time, he knows how hard she can push.

“Rough couple of days.”

“Are you feeling better, at least? Do the doctors think it’s healing okay?”

“I have a check-up tomorrow, but it’s fine. Just sore.” He finally settles but he still looks like he’s in pain. Buck wants to press, wants to know every detail of his last few days — what exercises he’s done, when the pain really got worse, if he’s resting enough. But this isn’t his injury, and everyone heals differently. And he trusts Eddie, trusts him to know how to take care of himself like he promised he would.

“Anyway,” Eddie says lightly, clearly trying to change the subject. Buck lets him. “I’m sure this good night will make for a good day tomorrow, too. You feel ready?”

“I do,” Buck answers. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that he actually means it.

“Good. I know you’ll be great. And you’ll have my sleep deprived text commentary to look forward to when you finish.”

Buck winces. “I’m not gonna be skating until like 4AM your time, you really don’t—”

“I really do. I really want to. And there’s not a whole lot you can do to stop me.” Eddie flashes his crowd-charming smile and Buck feels like he’s melting into the mattress again. He tries for a snappy comeback, anything to keep Eddie talking, but he cuts himself off with a yawn, the exhaustion from the week seeming to catch up with him all at once.

Eddie’s smile gets a little softer. “Go to sleep, Buck. I’m gonna take a nap too so I make sure I wake up on time.”

“Okay, okay. Goodnight Eds.”

“Goodnight. Knock ‘em dead tomorrow.”

After they hang up, Buck gives himself a minute, just a minute, to really bask in that, in Eddie’s active support of him from halfway across the world. It’s one thing to have your teammates watch your programs from the stands, but to find competitions on TV, if they’re being shown at all? To figure out time zones and wake up at ungodly hours just to watch you skate live? It may not seem like much, but it’s everything to Buck. He’s only gotten this kind of commitment from one other person in his life — even his parents stopped keeping up once he started competing abroad more. And it’s different with Maddie — they’ve been on this road together for almost two decades, so intertwined with each other’s successes and failures that they’re hard to differentiate sometimes. Sure, Eddie’s been a part of his life for years now too, but as competition, an obstacle he kept trying and failing to overcome. It’s different now that they’re...whatever they are. Friends. Almost something else.

For the second time tonight, Buck’s reminded of how grateful he is to have another solid, supportive presence in his corner. The last lingering bits of heaviness and loneliness evaporate from within him, and he knows this weekend will be good for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Second place.

Second place is fine. Second place is great, actually. Second place is enough to show the USFSA that he’s still a contender, that he can still keep up with the best of the best despite a rocky first half of the season.

But second place is not first place. Even if it’s only six points away.

Overall, Buck is happy with his performance. He was clean on his step sequences, attacked every jump, and didn’t fall once. And six points behind the skater from Japan that everyone considers Eddie’s biggest international rival, his biggest threat against his potential Olympic gold, would make most other people ecstatic.

He’s not most other people, though. This past week has reignited the fire in his belly and it’s burning brighter than it has in a while. The medal ceremony, the interviews, the gala, everything flashes by because all he can think about is getting back to work, changing transitions and tweaking spins until even the smallest gap between him and any other skater is erased. Until he knows his programs are undoubtedly gold medal worthy.

It’s refreshing — a relief — to be back in this headspace, being pushed forward by obstacles and less-than-perfection instead of dragged into spiraling sadness.

He almost loses it a couple of times, especially when he decides to take an innocent peek at Twitter to see what fans had to say about the Final, the words “overscored” and “inconsistent” swimming in front of him until they don’t mean anything anymore, just leave doubt lingering, trying to find the home in Buck’s brain that it had just vacated. In those moments, he goes back to his messages and rereads the live texts he’d gotten all weekend, and one in particular that makes his heart skip two beats every time he sees it:

[from: Eddie] I think you make everyone fall a little bit in love with you every time you skate

Eddie sent it in the middle of his free skate, in the middle of dozens of other compliments and criticism of other skaters, and Buck’s sure he was half awake when he sent it, but it fills him with something he doesn’t quite have a name for. Something that makes all of the harsh words and doubts disappear, because none of those matter when Eddie is here telling him that he’s good, that he deserves all of his scores and praises. That he’s loved, no matter how often he may forget.

Another fire is burning in him, a little above the one in his gut, but it’s pushing him just as hard to prove his worth.

~~~~~~~~~

There’s four weeks left until Nationals, and Eddie still isn’t better.

Buck can tell he’s getting frustrated too — the tension in his shoulders gets tighter and tighter, the set of his mouth harder and harder each day he comes to the rink still wearing his air cast, only able to work in the gym and with Lena, far away from the ice and the excited chatter of preparing for the second half of the season. Buck tries to be there, a shoulder to lean on, someone to listen, but he also knows how Eddie operates — he’ll slap on a smile and say he’s fine until he’s really not, until he cracks from the inside out and finally explodes with everything he’s been holding in so he keeps up this air of perfection he’s made for himself. Buck used to think it was annoying, that perfect facade, but now he knows it’s more defensive than anything, Eddie just trying to protect himself from the world and maybe from himself.

Buck doesn’t take it personally anymore, and he’s going to do his damned best to be there to keep the cracks from spreading.

It’s after 10pm when he walks into the gym, still breathing heavily from practice, his muscles burning from overuse and the need to be stretched. He was certain he was alone, so he just about jumps out of his skin when he sees someone lying on the padded floor in front of the mirrors. When he gets closer, his blood runs cold for an entirely different reason.

It’s Eddie.

Buck’s first thought is to call for an ambulance, because why else would Eddie be lying on the floor if he hadn’t hurt himself again? But as he gets closer still, Buck thinks this might be intentional. He’s on his back, headphones on, eyes closed, rhythmically tapping his hands to whatever song he’s listening to on his stomach. As Buck's shadow passes over his face, he opens his eyes and blinks at him for a minute before giving a half-hearted smile and closing his eyes again. He looks sadder, somehow, than he has in the past weeks, dark circles under his eyes and none of the golden glow that seems to follow him wherever he goes (though that may be coming just from Buck’s own imagination anyway).

Buck’s not really sure what to do here, how to fix whatever it is that’s making Eddie feel so bad.

So he lays down right next to him and waits.

The headphones come off after 10 minutes, and Eddie doesn’t open his eyes for another five. When he does, he looks over to Buck, and rather than something supportive or sweet or literally anything else, he says the first dumb thing that comes to his head:

“Are we meditating?”

But he gets an actual smile out of it from Eddie, so he takes it as a win.

Eddie scrubs his hands over his face. “Trying to, I think.” He turns onto his side, facing Buck, and Buck turns to mirror him. He can tell Eddie is searching for his words, the right phrasing to get his point across, and he’s willing to wait as long as he needs to for Eddie to share.

Finally, he takes a long, steadying breath. “My doctor said I might not be able to skate until the end of January, which means I might miss Nats, which means I might not—” he gestures vaguely at that, like he expects Buck to know what his silence means. Buck knows exactly what he means, and it makes him ache for Eddie, makes him reach out and squeeze his wrist when his eyes start to shine, thumb tracing over his pulse point trying to soothe him. “I’ve worked my ass off for weeks now to get better, and it still might not be good enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says quietly. “I know it sucks. More than anything.”

Eddie goes quiet again, eyes drifting to where Buck is still holding his wrist. He pulls away for just a second before slotting their fingers together properly and gently squeezing. Like always, Buck marvels at how right it feels, to be holding Eddie’s hand.

“Did you know they’ve been saying I’m the favorite to win gold for three years now? Not to brag, but—” he says quickly, eyes wide. Buck chuckles because he knows — knows now — that Eddie doesn’t have an arrogant bone in his body. He squeezes his hand back and waits for him to keep going. “It’s all I can think about. Every time I fuck up a level or finish off podium, it just stays with me, makes me feel like I’m about to crash and burn and everyone is going to be disappointed in me because I’m not actually as good as they think.” Eddie’s trembling, squeezing his hand tighter to try and stop it. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I tricked everyone into believing in me, and this stupid busted ankle is—”

“Hey, hey, no,” Buck says, pulling them up to sitting and cupping Eddie’s face in his hands as his tears threaten to spill over, slipping through the cracks. “You don’t deserve this, Eddie, no one deserves to be injured. Believe me, I know what it’s like to put all of your worth into this, and I still do it, but...you’re worth so much more than just your skating. To the fans, to the team. To me.” Eddie’s eyes drift away from his, trying to find an escape, but Buck holds firm until they drift back. “You are good. Not just a good skater, but a good person. You’ll always have that, gold medals or not. And if no one else believes in you, I do.”

Eddie stares at him, looking dumbstruck, and he’s quiet for so long that Buck worries he went too far, bared himself a little too much. He’s about to backtrack, save both of them whatever awkwardness might come, but Eddie surges forward before he can and kisses him so fiercely he swears the earth stands still.

He pushes away just as quickly, eyes wide in panic. “Shit, Buck, I’m sorry, I know we—” but Buck cuts him off, kissing him slow and deep, hands tangling into Eddie’s hair trying to pull him as close as possible. Eddie’s everywhere, his taste, his smell, his touch, and when he feels Eddie’s smile against his mouth, a smile that he put there, he feels like flying.

It finally clicks for Buck that he doesn’t have to — doesn’t want to — compartmentalize his life so much anymore. Skating and Eddie make him happier than pretty much anything. Why shouldn’t he have both?

They break apart slowly and rest their foreheads together. Buck ended up in Eddie’s lap at some point, and from here he can’t see anything but Eddie, gets lost in the curve of his cheekbones and the pout of his lips, and mentally smacks himself for thinking it was really better not having all of this. Eddie is in his corner, always, and he wants to be in Eddie’s too. Wants him to know he’s there, to remember even at his lowest points that he’s not alone, ever.

Eddie finally opens his eyes and smiles at Buck, soft but absolutely breathtaking. He squeezes his arms a little tighter around Buck’s waist, and Buck is more than happy to get as close as he can, would crawl into Eddie’s chest and stay there forever if he could.

“What are you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly.

Buck’s thinking a lot of things, or at least he was, but now that he’s focused on honey brown eyes so full of affection he could drown in them, his only real thought is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“I think we’re stupid,” he says after a minute, and Eddie’s laugh echos around the empty gym.

“We’re stupid?”

“Okay, I’m stupid. But I think I want to fix that.”

“Oh really?”

“I think I want to be here for you, for everything.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I think I want to remind you how amazing you are whenever I can.”

“Buck—”

“I think I want to convince you of how incredible you are whenever you stop believing it.”

Eddie’s eyes are shining again, but his smile could also put the sun to shame.

“And I think I really, really want to keep kissing you.”

Eddie shakes his head, smile getting bigger and somehow pulling Buck even closer. “I think we can make that happen,” he whispers.

He kisses him again, and Buck is soaring.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #fs au #ficcery #there's still so much figure skating drama left i hope y'all are psyched

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