#just moved to a new city and me and my roommate basically have no wall decorations
What we need is a few good taters
(Get it here)
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could i pls get a part 2 of elevator with dream🥺 the way that they show their vulnerable sides to each other is adorable <3
yes! of course! i still kept this pretty fluffy but in another request, someone asked for smut so it's a little spicy.
𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
pairing: dream x reader (dre™ my beloved)
warnings: light smut (i didn't completely write it out I'm sorry), a virgin reader, language, fwb kinda, mentions of sexual content
previous part: elevator
After nearly two hours, the elevator began to buzz with life, hoisting up to the floor where Clay and Sapnap lived. The two of you had bonded in the dim, red elevator, coming out of the cramped room as friends when you had previously just been an odd mix of acquaintance and mutual. Sapnap stood in the threshold, an apologetic look on his face as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
You and Clay became nearly inseparable. You found yourself showing up at his apartment for him just as much as for Sapnap. There were even times when you’d text Sapnap to see if he was busy when your roommate would be trying to shove you out the door and he’d send Clay over instead. His presence always made it awkward for your roommate’s boyfriend and while you hated to admit it, it was hilarious.
“So, you do what kind of farming?” Clay asked from his spot beside you, leaning on the counter with his eyes zoning out to watch your hands as you cooked.
Her boyfriend---who the two of you often referred to as Ricky Fitts behind his back---sighed. He had explained his profession to Clay numerous times, but the manner in which he did it was so pretentious that Clay was addicted to picking at him for it. “It’s botanical gardening. Not farming,” he groaned. “In simple man’s terms, I curate a garden for plant research and help to diversify the plant species in the area.”
Clay nodded. “And how many strains of marijuana do you have in the span of, say, a year.”
“I’m not going over this with you again,” he nipped, making Clay look down in mock defeat.
He sighed longingly before straightening up. “Okay, fine. So, hypothetically speaking, how many strains.”
Ricky stared at him blankly and you knew if you looked up, you’d break character. “Don’t the two of you have somewhere to be? Like a cave or something?”
Clay let out a short laugh. “I’m free all night actually,” he spoke, smirking slightly. “Did you wanna check out a cave with me, baby?” Clay asked him, fluttering his eyelashes.
The two of you often rode the bus together; Clay's height mimicking a skyscraper over you to grab at the bar or handle above you and kneeing you in the butt just because you were short enough that he could. That would usually end in you elbowing him in the gut. When you were coming back from class was when you were a bit quieter usually, nearly falling asleep as you stood by him and then fighting off a blush when he would wrap an arm around you just to keep you balanced upright. When he had first ridden the bus, you had completely forgotten what had told him in the elevator.
Your fingers tightened around the pole attaching the overhead bus shelf to the ground, attempting to steady yourself as you stared out the window adjacent to you. The bus screeched to a halt, jolting you forward slightly. The sea of new people obstructed your view, namely a tall figure as he sidestepped through the crowd of people. You furrowed your brows, brushing your hand against Clay’s arm to capture his attention.
He removed his headphones after pretending not to recognize you. He greeted you and grabbed onto the bar you had commandeered, leaning on the bus wall beside you. “Don’t you have a car?” You asked, reaching out to lightly pull on the lanyard sticking out of his pocket.
He smirked, brushing your hand off. “It’s dangerous down there, careful,” he jeered, making you roll your eyes at his lude joke. “Is there something wrong with supporting local businesses?”
Your brows knitted together in disbelief. “We’re on a city bus, Dream.” He shrugged. You bit your lip slightly, your mind breaking off into another explanation. “You wouldn’t be stalking me, would you?” You baited, a ghost of a blush settling over his cheeks.
He reached forward to cover your mouth. “You ask too many questions.”
He moved closer to let someone have the seat beside him, his hand settling to the space just above yours as your sides threatened to touch. You bit back the idea that Clay was following you around, finding a silent pleasure in that fact. He would probably never admit it fully.
He towered over you as the bus swayed, you having to lean back slightly in order to talk to him. “So, are you gonna walk me to class too then, simp?” You mocked, making him shake his head.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a simp, thanks,” he answered with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. “And maybe I will.”
You crossed your legs, knees popping as you bent out of your previous position on the kitchen floor with your back pressed against one of the sink’s cabinet doors. Clay was on his back, shoulders emerged in that same cupboard as he messed with the sink. You handed him a tool that he vaguely asked for, your eyes lingering on his old high school shirt celebrating some kind of sports achievement.
You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Dream?” You got his attention, delaying your question. He hummed in acknowledgment. “How many people have you slept with?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Let me think,” he murmured, making you snicker. “Three.”
“You had to think about that?” You joshed.
He chuckled at your words. “Well, I mean. No one’s asked me what my body count is since like… I don’t know honestly.” He peeked out at you momentarily. “Why? You looking to be number four?” He jeered, a smirk brushing across his lips as you rolled your eyes.
You huffed sarcastically. “Yeah, you wish,” you mumbled, fighting not to blush.
“Maybe I do,” he stated plainly.
You opened your mouth to retort, but Sapnap walked in, peering down at his phone with an unbending concentration. Clay sat up beside you, flashing you a look before Sapnap began to speak. “I have a date. I just wanted you guys to know,” he stated before grabbing his coat off of one of the hooks. He finally looked up from his phone, lazily point a finger at the pair of you. “Don’t hook up. It’ll make it awkward for me and I’m not ready to deal with you guys being together yet.”
Clay laughed and your ears warmed, rolling your eyes as he left the two of you with his words.
After an hour, Sapnap’s words were blown to the wind as Clay’s fingers carded through your hair, his lips pressed against yours in some kind of heated passion to prove himself to you; that he was worthy of being with you in such an intimate way.
You weren’t hesitant, to say the least, and had even initiated the manner as the sun had begun to set. You had been sitting beside each other, lazily discussing your sex lives and lack-there-of.
“So, these three… Do you still keep in touch?” You asked him, watching as his green eyes searched yours for the reason behind your questions. The deep orange rays of the sunset peeked through the blinds to reflect against his blond hair.
He shook his head. “They were all me being stupid, basically. I didn’t really like any of them,” he admitted, making your stomach turn. “What about you? What’s your number?”
You shrugged. “Zero,” you snorted.
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, that’s right. I knew that,” he recounted as if he were remembering what you’d told him when the two of you were trapped in the elevator. “Um… Why?”
You shrugged again. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough.” He barely bit his lip, nodding in understanding. You cleared your throat. “It’s not that it’s a big deal to me or anything, I just… I’d like to feel safe during it, at least,” you clarified.
“It’s okay if it’s a big deal,” he stated. “It was important to me too at one point. I just…” he sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I got caught up in the pressure of losing it.”
You nodded, letting a breath of silence pass between the two of you. “Would you want to…” You looked away from him, biting back a grin at how stupid you were about to sound. “Would you want to take my virginity?”
He nearly giggled. “You feel safe with me?”
You snorted. “Yeah. I mean, I like you,” you answered, biting back a laugh. The air between you was mellow and easy. You had thrown your awkwardness out the window after Sapnap had left. “I mean, you’re one of my best friends, you know. But it’s just an offer.”
He grinned, a dusting of red settling in his cheeks from the pride he was beaming at you. “No, I want to. I just… I want you to be sure.”
You chewed on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m sure. But if it’s too much pressure and everything, like I get it.”
He chuckled. “Quit. I’m honored honestly.”
You laughed. “Okay, then do it,” you stated.
And there the two of you were, Clay’s breath warm against your skin as he knotted his fingers with yours, moaning as you ground your hips against his. You could tell he was holding back for your sake, being as gentle as he could and trying not to crush you under his massive frame.
When you had pictured losing your virginity in the past, you’d always thought your body would be urging you to be thinking of something else, racing with pure terror as your partner got themselves off to get it over with. But Clay’s hands were careful, slowly introducing you to different sensations and testing the waters for you. Your mind was only focused on the fact that Clay smelled like lavender; the scent lingering on his clothes and in his hair.
You slipped your hands under the hem of his shirt, before pulling it over his head. You hadn’t seen him naked before, but heat flushed to your cheeks at the view of him, even if he had pressed you into another kiss as soon as he had discarded his shirt. As he pressed a leg between yours, you moaned, fingers traveling along the length of his spine. His taste of bitter coffee and mint was becoming your new obsession as his tongue pressed into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.
He leaned off of you to remove your shirt, every instinct telling you to cover back up, but he brushed it off, pressing his lips to yours again as his thumb gently brushed against your side. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re hot,” he joked, making you giggle as he lightened the mood.
“You’re so charming,” you mocked, running your fingers into his hair as his lips pressed against your neck lovingly.
He chuckled. “Only when you’re around,” he answered, making you laugh again.
The next morning, you sat beside Clay at the breakfast table, the two of you chatting about a movie you were planning on seeing later in the day. Sapnap strolled in, eyeing you carefully with his lips pursed. You both looked up at him as if to motion for him to spit out whatever was bothering him.
Sapnap took to the chair on the other side of Clay after pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Okay, so am I supposed to pretend I didn’t see you sneaking out of Dream’s room this morning?” He gestured between the two of you. “And now you’re wearing each other’s hoodies.” Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Clay look down with a small “what?” whispering from his lips quietly. “I mean come on, that one was mine at one point,” he continued, his comments mainly directed at you.
You scoffed. “Am I supposed to pretend you didn’t come back until an hour ago and I know you don’t carry condoms?” You countered.
Clay let out a soft gasp. “Sapnap… safe sex.” At this point he was just the Sophoclean chorus; the peanut gallery.
Sapnap sent you a sarcastic grin, disregarding your statement. “Am I supposed to pretend like I didn’t tell you guys not to hook up and you did?” Clay sipped his drink at this. “I mean, look at you two!” He swatted his finger to point at where the two of your hands were joined together.
In reality, you weren’t even sure when Clay had grabbed your hand or even that you here holding onto him as well. “Am I supposed to pretend like you didn’t do that on purpose so we didn’t bother you for a few hours?” You shot back.
Sapnap’s mouth dramatically tilted, brows raised in shock. “A Few. Hours?”
You covered your mouth as Clay laughed beside you.
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@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna
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Teach Me | KNJ Oneshot
pairing: wolf hybrid!namjoon x human!female reader
genre: smut, slight angst, dashes of fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot
au: hybrid au, roommates to lovers
rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+
word count: 6.6k
warnings: slight angst, some pining, first time sex, public sex, unprotected sex, biting, scratching, hickies, breast play, knotting, cum holding, cockwarming, slight breeding kink, size kink (joon got a big cock), fingering, oral (f. recieving), multiple orgasms
House Jincubus presents: Room of Restraints
AU Type: Hybrid AU
Theme: First Time Sex, Public Sex
Kinks: Biting, Scratching, Hickies, Breast Play, Knotting, Cum Holding, Cockwarming, Breeding Kink, Size Kink
a/n: Finished this just in time... Didn’t mean to go so long without posting anything but please accept this as an apology. Thank you, thank you, thank you to my soultwin @escapingreality4now for running to my aid when I hit multiple writing blocks with this piece. your support and wisdom saved me. you always know what I need to help me through before I even think of it and i love you. Also, big big thank you to @kimtaehyunq for looking over this last minute to help me make sure everything flows. you are awesome and i love you!
“What have I gotten myself into,” you think to yourself as you walk through your front door from packing up your car.
The loud sound of something large hitting a wall somewhere in your apartment greets you upon entry. You peer down the hallway towards the bedrooms, eyeing your roommate’s, Namjoon, closed door as you make your way to the kitchen. The moment your feet touch the tile of the kitchen, you stop in your tracks. Eyes growing wide at the mess of your countertops. Various amounts of Tupperware half filled with chopped up meat, fruits, and cheeses are scattered around the room, proving to be the aftermath of somebody’s abandoned attempt at meal prepping. Another loud bang comes from behind Namjoon’s door, startling you as you let out a sigh. You walk up the counter and start to organize the food into the containers in equal portions as your mind begins to wander.
It’s only been nine months since you and Namjoon moved in together. Being best friends throughout college, the both of you decided to stay in the city after graduation. Agreeing to move in together to help split the expensive cost of rent that came with living in the heart of the city. You thought the only thing you’d have to worry about is the secret crush you still harbored for him and if it would affect you being able to live together. How naive of you to think that would be the biggest issue.
Namjoon is a wolf hybrid. You’ve never lived with a hybrid before. It’s not that you regret the decision, you just wish you would have thought to research what it would be like to better prepare yourself. Especially for one who is about to go through their heat.
In the beginning, living with Namjoon was going great. The close quarters and seeing each other every day brought you two closer and it didn’t take long for you to feel as if your crush wasn’t so unrequited. Only a few weeks ago Namjoon was placing soft good morning kisses to the top of your head or resting his hand briefly on your waist as he brushed past you. But just as soon as it started, it all had stopped. You continue with your task of sorting the food as you think back to the day he told you what was going on.
2 weeks ago
“Joonie, what’s all this meat for?” You ask, a slight giggle to you tone as you walk back up to the shopping cart. Namjoon stands there with two stacks of meat in his hands, the muscles in his arms flexing as he places the items into the cart. His pointed ears perk up at the sound of you walking up to him. His tail wagging sheepishly as he blushes, dimple ghosting his cheek as he gives you a shy smile. You can’t help but inwardly swoon at how attractive he looks. The bangs of his dark brown hair falling into his face as he stands up straight.
“Well, uh… My heat is coming up. Need to make sure I have enough food to make it through,” he says, eyes on you as he watches you process the news.
“Ah.” You nod your head in response. Not sure why you are as it’s not like you fully understood. Being human, hybrid heats weren’t exactly your expertise. You take another step towards the cart, placing the bottle of laundry detergent you had gone to retrieve on top of the growing pile. You hear a small cough and look up at it’s owner. You notice Namjoon staring at the detergent bottle with furrowed brows.
“Did I get the wrong kind?” You ask, looking back down at the item. You could have sworn you grabbed the right brand. The smell of this detergent being one you would know instantly. The subtle woodsy fragrance being one you associate very much with Namjoon.
“No, it is the one I buy. It’s just, um…” Namjoon trails off, scratching the back of his head as you look back up at him. He averts his eyes, avoiding eye contact with you as he starts again. “I was actually going to grab a bottle of yours.”
He continues speaking before you can say anything, answering your unspoken question. “I was going to take it with me to the hybrid hotel. In case I started to miss you,” he mumbles shyly.
You feel your cheeks heat at the sentiment. A blooming warmth in your chest begins to grow only to be cut off by your mind fixating on the rest of his words. “Hybrid hotel?” you repeat, your brows furrowing in curiosity.
Namjoon shuffles slightly on his feet as his eyes finally meet yours. “It’s a place for hybrids to go during their heat. Where other hybrids can get together for, umm…” He pauses, clearing his throat as his face turns a darker shade of pink. “... for help.”
“Help?” you parrot back in confusion before your brows shoot up. Your mouth dropping open as you let out a soft ‘Oh’ in realization. “Oh! Right, okay. Uhh, yeah. I’ll just go swap them out then.” You rush out the last of your words, snatching the bottle from the cart and turning around. You practically run back to the laundry aisle, not giving Namjoon a chance to say anything more.
As you place the last bit of meat into the last container, you remember how hurt you felt. Still feel if you were being honest. You wonder if he ever thought about asking you for help. You’d consider it, even though you don’t know what all that would consist of being. You remember thinking it would be something more comfortable to go through in your own home. Maybe he chose the hotel because he didn’t want you around. This thought is what led you to make the choice that you did. Considering his reaction when you told him your plan, it only added to your realization of how sorely uneducated you are on hybrid heats.
1 week ago
“You don’t have to go to the hotel. You can stay here.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, catching Namjoon off guard as soon as you got home after work. You just didn’t know how to bring it up and you’ve barely talked to him, let alone seen him, since the grocery trip a week ago. So when you walked into the apartment and saw him folding laundry on the couch, you acted without thinking.
You can tell you startled him at the slight jump of his shoulders. He turns to look at you. A look of surprise displays across his face as he replies, “You… you want me to stay?”
“Yeah. I figure it would be more comfortable than any hotel,” you explain, walking into the living room and sitting next to him on the couch. A mix of his woodsy detergent and another scent hitting you as you get closer.
He looks at you curiously, a twinkle of wariness in his eyes as he goes to fold the blanket in his hand. “Are you sure you’d be okay with me being here?”
You let out a small giggle as you give him a reassuring look. “Joon, this is your place, too. Why wouldn’t I be? I just figured I’d help anyway I can.”
His ears perk up as he takes in your words. Eyes wide in shock as he looks at you. Mouthing dropping open to speak, but you cut him off before he gets a chance. ”Which is why I’ll be staying elsewhere for the week,” you rush out. “I have a coworker who's dating a fox hybrid and she’s offered a place for me to stay.”
You watch as his pointed wolf ears fall just slightly as he looks away. His features darkening as he clenches his jaw, grabbing his folded laundry and placing them into the basket. “So, you won't be here,” he deduces from your words, placing the last piece of laundry into the basket.
“No,” you reply cautiously. “I figured you’d want your privacy? I didn’t want to get in your way in case…” In case you wanted to bring someone to help. You finish the sentence in your mind. The words cause an uneasy feeling in your stomach.
Namjoon nods at your words, still looking at the basket in front of him. “Right,” he clips, grabbing the basket as he stands from the couch. “Well, thanks,” he mutters, his tone laced with annoyance as he walks past you. You get another small whiff of the other other scent coming from the laundry as he passes, identifying as the mystery scent as the lavender detergent you use. You watch as he walks down the hallway, still not looking at you as he slams his door, disappearing into his bedroom.
Another loud thud startles you, pulling you from your memory. You look down at the completed meal preps and let out another sigh. You make sure the lids are secure on the containers and begin to stack them in the fridge. You place the last container of food in the fridge and wipe down the counter. You inspect your t-shirt and jeans, making sure no food stains have found their way onto your attire, prompting for a wardrobe change. Having no other distraction to delay your departure to your coworker’s house, you decided now is as good as any time to hit the road.
Walking out of the kitchen, you stop in the hallway, looking back down towards Namjoon’s room. You figure it would be rude of you not to tell him you were leaving. You walk towards his door, raising a fist to knock when you hesitate. Wondering to yourself if he even wants you to say bye to him. You debate if you should ask him to give you a call should his heat end early. Or if he would like for you to call and check on him. Or even drop in to make sure he eats. “Oh god what if he has someone over?”
Before your mind could dwell too much on that thought, the door in front of you swings open, bringing you face to face with the tall, brown-haired hybrid. His ears pointing up in shock to see you standing there.
“Why are you just standing here?” He asks you as he holds open his door.
“I, umm,” you stammer, the sudden appearance of him catching you off guard. “I’m about to head out. Just wanted to tell you bye before I…” You trail off, taking in his appearance. He had a plain shirt and gym shorts on. Sweat is building on his hairline as you notice his breathes seemed slightly uneven. Your eyes trail down his arms, ogling at how noticeable buff they look, wondering if his upcoming heat has anything to do with how they look larger than usual. You catch the sight of his house keys in his hand and nod to them. “Are you going somewhere?”
He looks down and clears his throat. Taking a step forward around you and closing his door. “Uh, yeah. I forgot to settle something at the bookstore. Didn’t set for Jimin to have access to process payroll. It needs to be sent out while I’ll be gone,” he says, walking down the hallway to the front door.
You follow him, grabbing your keys from the kitchen counter as you pass by. “Do you want me to drive you and drop you back off? I don’t mind.”
“No, I got it. I’ll take my bike.” He grabs his jacket and reaches for the front door. You try to shake off the feeling that he doesn’t want to be around you and go to offer again.
“But, Joon it’s…” You’re cut off by the loud curse Namjoon lets out as he opens the door, taking in the state of the weather outside.
“It’s raining,” he finishes your sentence. The sound of raindrops hitting the pavement hard filling the brief silence that follows. He turns to look at you as he lets out a small huff. “Yeah, a ride would be appreciated. Thank you.”
You give him a soft smile as he holds the door open for you, closing it behind him as he follows you to your car.
The drive to the bookstore was silent. The rain drowns out any music playing from the radio during your short drive to Namjoon’s work. You pull up to the curb, parking right in front of the storefront to give Namjoon the shortest trek in the rain possible. He unbuckles his seatbelt, grabbing the door handle before he stops and turns to you. “You can come in if you want. I don’t know how long this will take me and it will probably be more comfortable than waiting out here.”
You give him a smile, nodding at him as you pull the keys out of the ignition. You both speed out of the car and towards the shop, managing your best to stay as dry as possible in the short distance. Locking your car, you follow Namjoon into the bookstore. Once inside, a warm, angelic voice greets you.
“Welcome to Cypher Bookstore! Oh, Namjoon! Didn’t expect to see you for another week,” the cute blonde male behind the front desk addresses your roommate, smiling when he notices you standing behind him and reaches out his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Jimin. Namjoon’s favorite employee. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You’re my only employee,” Namjoon grumbles as he walks around the counter towards the back office, stopping briefly as he turns and motions towards you. “This is my roommate, Y/N. I’ll be here for just a little bit. Forgot to do something before I left yesterday.”
You shake Jimin’s hand, giving him a smile as you see his eyes light up. A sudden realization forming in his mind as he looks at you. “OH, YN! I’ve heard so much about you,” he sing-songs, letting out a little chuckle as he notices the faint trace of confusion on your face. “You’re one of Joon’s favorite topics,” he whispers as he raises his hand to block his mouth. It was only for show, seeing as his volume was still loud enough for Namjoon to hear from the office. The wolf hybrid pops his head out of the open office door, interrupting Jimin before he could say anything else.
“Hey, Jimin. Why don’t you go take a quick lunch while I’m here? I can watch the store. We shouldn’t get very much traffic with this kind of weather.” By the way Namjoon glares at Jimin, you both can tell it was more than just a suggestion. Jimin gives Namjoon a thumbs up as he smiles, winking at you as he walks around the counter and heading towards the door.
“It was nice to finally put a face to a name. See ya!” You wave him bye as Jimin bounces out the door and into the rain. You watch as he disappears out of sight when you hear Namjoon call for you, turning to look at him from across the desk.
“You can take a look around if you want. I’ll just be in here if someone comes in or if, you know, you need anything,” he says, giving you a half smile. You nod your head, huffing out a small “okay” as you turn around, venturing into the small two story shop.
You roam around, taking in the numerous shelves of books, all sorted by what seemed to be genre and author. In the middle of the room, you notice an iron spiral staircase leading up to another section of the store. A loft area that would overlook the entire bookstore if it weren’t for the long curtain that blocked it off.
You walk up the staircase, entering into the cozy little section as you make it to the top. You notice only three bookcases in the small area. The rest of the space fitted with a table in the middle and a medium sized couch against the wall behind it. You figure it’s an area created for study groups or research. Your assessment is confirmed when you browse the loft’s reading contents. Various informational books and research journals line the shelves once again sorted by genre. Your eyes stop on the label marking the start of the ‘Hybrids’ section. Eyeing the titles, you find one that catches your attention. You reach for it without a thought as you read the name of the book in your mind. A-Z on Hybrid Heats. Flipping it open, you turn and walk around the table, sitting down on the couch as you stop on the page titled Heats.
Heats are a biological mating cycle all hybrids go through. Heats can last 4-7 days and begin with fever and increased pheromone production (see Pre-Heat).
You continue down the page, skimming the sections leading into information on heat triggers and heat suppressants. You come up on the section of breeding, reading through prevention options when your eyes stop on a word that catches your eye. Knotting. You flip to the page it points you to. Your eyes grow wide when you’re met with an anatomical picture of what knotting is. You continue on, taking in the brief explanations the book offers on knotting, marking, and various other terms. You knew heats were a time where a hybrids sex drive was high, but you had no idea it consisted of all this. You didn’t realize sex for a hybrid would be that much diffierent.
As you look back up at the anatomy diagrams, your mind wanders to the wolf hybrid just a floor below you. Is this what happens with him? Does it hurt? Has he ever marked or claimed anyone before? Surely not, as it seems like a one and done type of ordeal. You would know if he had someone in his life like that, wouldn’t you?
“Would he ever consider me?” you think to yourself, eyes closing as you picture what it would be like between you and Namjoon. Would he be rough? Would he be gentle? You begin to fantasize what it would feel like. Him buried to the hilt inside you, his knot growing as he grabs your chin. Moving your head to the side, exposing the bare canvas of your neck as his other hand roams over your body. Mumbles of how you belong to him and only him falling from his lips as he plants kisses across your body. The mental imagery causes you to squirm in your seat. You rub your thighs together, trying to find some relief as you feel your growing arousal start to leak from your core.
“What are you doing?” Namjoon’s voice comes out of nowhere, snapping you out of your day dream as you shoot up from your seat, the book dropping from your lap and onto the floor.
“S-sorry, I was just reading while I waited,” you stammer under his gaze. Feeling like a little kid caught looking at something they shouldn’t. You take a look at Namjoon, noticing how he was now drenched in sweat. The knuckles of his hands turning white as he holds onto the railing by the staircase. “Are you okay?”
“My heat,” he growls. The tone of his voice is an octave lower than usual, the deep rumbles of his baritone causing another slick of arousal to leak from you. Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your groin before looking back up at your face. His eyes watch you hungrily as he speaks through clenched teeth. “It’s starting early.”
“Oh, okay,” you nod, bending down to grab the book you dropped off the floor. Trying your best to hide the cover as you walk around the table. Hoping he won’t see the title when you pass him. “Let me put this up and we’ll hurry and get you home. Namjoon?!?”
You barely make it past him when he reaches for your arm, snatching the book from your hands and glancing at the front cover. “Why are you reading this? He asks, a single brow quirking up in half amusement.
You reach for the book, letting out a small gasp of surprise when Namjoon stops you, catching your wrist with his free hand. “Answer me.”
“I was just reading to pass the time.” You can tell by the way his ears twitch that he could sense the lie in your words. He tosses the book to the side. A soft thud echoes in the small loft as it hits the ground. He starts walking you backwards into the room, hand still wrapped around your wrist.
“I can smell you, you know,” he drawls. Your eyes grow wide as you blink back at him. Cheeks heating with embarrassment as you immediately know what he’s referencing. “Is that what was getting you all worked up? Reading about my heat?”
You feel the back of your legs hit something solid. Placing your hand on the surface behind you, you realize it’s the table. “Why read that book?” he asks again, his dark orbs piercing into yours as he waits for your answer.
“I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, but considering his close proximity, you know he’s able to hear you. He eyes you carefully, moving his free hand to brace itself beside yours on the table. You notice the strain in his arm muscles. As if he was trying to hold himself back from you, despite how little of a distance there already was.
“Help,” he mimics. You notice one of his pupils is already half blown, something you think is a cause of his brewing heat. He leans in closer to you, his nose barely touching yours. “Like more than just giving me my privacy at home?”
You push yourself slightly off the table, trying to stand up a little straighter as you look the wolf hybrid in the eye. You take in a deep breath, replying to him with as much certainty in your tone as possible. “Yes. More than just giving you privacy.”
You barely register his growl before you feel his lips on yours. His mouth devouring you hungrily as you return his kisses. A small moan slips past your lips as his free hand cups your face, tilting it to the side as he traces small nips across your jawline, ending just by your ear.
“You know, I can teach you so much more than that little book,” he purrs. The insinuation of his words traveling down your body and straight into your core. Your hips grinding up into his out of instinct as he pulls away from you just slightly.
“I need to know you want this,” he says to you. Breathing heavily as he searches your face, looking for any traces of doubt.
“I want this, Joonie,” you answer him, moving your free hand to cup his face. You watch as his eyes flutter shut at your touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Teach me.”
The moment the words leave your lips, his eyes shoot open. His gaze full of hunger and lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips come crashing back down on yours. He lets go of your face and wrist and reaches for the button of your jeans. You help him remove them, sliding them down your legs and kicking them off as he lifts you up. Sitting you down on the edge of the table as your legs wrap around him, drawing him in closer to you. He presses his hips into you, his growing bulge pushing right into your weeping, cloth covered core. Your panties, soaked from your arousal, were sticking to your skin as you grind your hips in him. Namjoon’s hands scour your body. He lets out a soft moan as he brushes his hand over your breast, giving one a soft squeeze as he trails his hands down to the hem of your shirt. He breaks the kiss, lifting your shirt up over your head, a soft groan of approval at the sight of your lace covered chest. You take the opportunity to do the same to his, tossing his shirt to the side before grabbing his shoulders and bringing him in for another kiss. He rips at the back of your bra, breaking the clasp as he tears the offensive fabric from your body. You find it hard for you to care, feeling his desperate need for you too much of a turn on to dwell about the ruined garment.
He lays you back on to the table, kissing down your body and stopping at your breasts along the way. He wraps his lips around a hardened bud, massaging the other between his thumb and finger tips. He sucks lightly, pulling off with a pop as you let out a soft moan. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this,” he confesses, trailing kisses across your skin before circling your other nipple with his tongue. He takes it in between his teeth and gives it a small bite. You breathe in sharply from the sensation, gasping out your response as he starts to trail kisses further down your body, sinking to his knees in front of you.
“Me, too, Joonie. Wanted you for so long.” You take in another sharp breath as he moves his face between your legs, nudging your clit with his nose before moving your panties to the side. He runs his tongue up your slit, gathering your leaking juices on the tip before flicking it against your sensitive bud. He brings his tongue back into his mouth. A deep guttural growl resonating from his chest as he savors your taste. “All for me” he growls as he reaches for the top of your panties. Pulling them down your leg and tossing them to join the previously discarded clothing.
He leans back into your core, planting soft kisses around every part of you except where you wanted him most. He moves over to your thigh, giving the soft flesh a nibble before sucking on the skin leaving rose colored patches trailing back towards your center. You feel him place his fingers on either side of your entrance, splitting your lower lips apart as he makes a V with fingers. You let out a small whine, reaching down to find the top of his head and weave your fingers into his hair. “Joonie, please. No teasing,” you beg.
The breath from his chuckle tickles you as he leans back in, flicking your clit again with his tongue. “So needy for me,” he mumbles, taking your clit between his slips. A soft moan slips past your lips as he slowly begins to suck rolling his tongue around your swollen bud. You feel him gathering your wetness on his fingers, slipping two of his digits into your slick hole with ease. You arch your back, mouth dropping open at the stretch as he pumps into you, scissoring his fingers every other thrust. “Need to prep you quick. Can’t wait any longer, “ he huffs out between licks, inserting a third finger into you as he picks up his speed. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands each time he brushes against the small patch of nerve inside of you. Your walls start to flutter around him, alerting you both of your oncoming orgasm. Namjoon continues with his pace as he wraps his lips once again around your sensitive bud. “Come for me,” he demands. The words are muffled but your body hears it, obeying him as if it knows nothing else. Your orgasm leaves your body quivering, your toes curling in as a high pitched whine falls from your mouth.
You feel Namjoon pull away from, a soft groan rolls through your chest from the loss of him inside of you. You look at him through hooded eyes as he stands, hovering over you as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them of your release. Your eyes flicker down to his large bulge, watching as his other hand busying itself as he palms himself over his shorts. Leaning up on your elbows as you observe Namjoon’s every motion of dropping his boxer and shorts.
Your eyes grow wide the moment his impressively large, erect member is released from its clothed cage. He grabs a hold of himself, pumping his throbbing length as he moves closer to you. Namjoon is huge. You can’t help but not feel surprised considering the build of him. You feel your core begin to clench, your pussy crying to be filled by him. Your mouth starts to water, your tongue wanting so bad to lick the precum leaking from the mushroomed tip. “I want to taste you,” you purr, pushing yourself up off the table. A pout forming on your lips as he shakes his head, laying you back down as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Later baby,” he groans as he rubs his cock between your swollen lips. “I need to feel you.” He slowly starts to push in, catching your lips in an opened mouth kiss, swallowing every one of your moans. The feel of him stretching you open burns slightly, the sensation overridden by pleasure as Namjoon slips his hand between your bodies and rolls circles around your clit. You swear you could feel him in your stomach when he stops, still pleasuring your swollen bud as you adjust to the size of him. You want to tell him to move, breaking apart the kiss to do so when he speaks first.
“Just a little more baby. You think you can take in all of me?” He asks you, a shit eating grin splitting across his face as he notices the shock on your face.
“There’s still more of you?” You breathe out, peeking down in between your bodies at where you’re connected.
“Oh yes baby,” he coos, trailing kisses down your throat. “And it’s all for you.” Namjoon takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly as he pushes his remaining inches inside you. Your back arches, pushing your breast further into his face as he bottoms out. A deep groan rumbling through his chest as he starts grinding into you.
“Move, Joonie.” Those words were all Namjoon needed to start up his pace. The first few pumps were slow, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you can tell he was trying to hold back, to ease you in. His control falters as you pull his face up to you from your breast, whispering “faster” into his ear as you wrap your arms around his back. Your nails anchor into his muscles as he unleashes at an unrelenting pace.
Namjoon pumps into you with fervor. The storm and your surroundings fading into an abyss as the small room is filled with the sound of your shared wanton moans. Each thrust pushes Namjoon deeper and deeper. His length makes it easy for him to hit you in all the right places. Your nails leave red welts on his back with every pass of his tip over the rough patch inside of you. By the occasional hiss that leaves Joon’s lips, you can only guess a few of your love marks broke skin. Very soon, you feel a warming sensation building inside of you again. You shut your eyes, trying to sooth your body to hold out just a little longer.
Just as you feel yourself near the edge, Namjoon slams into you, pausing his relentless onslaught as he lifts you up from the table. Your legs wrapping around his waist for balance. He starts walking you around the room. The accumulating sweat of your naked bodies causes you to slowly lose group. You slip from his grasps just a little, your nails clawing into his shoulders as you squeeze your legs tighter around him. The action makes your walls clench around Namjoon’s member, still buried to the hilt inside of you. The sensation causes Namjoon to stumble, groaning as he braces you up against the nearest bookcase. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbles as he buries his face into the curve of your neck, nipping at your skin as he slowly grinds his hips up into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer.”
You make your walls give him a playful squeeze, not able to help the giggle that escapes your lips as he pulls his face from your neck and glares at you. “Is that how you want to play?” He growls as he pushes you further against the bookcase, grabbing ahold of your waist as he reels his hips back. He pounds into you furiously, your head tilting back as your mouth drops open. You feel the warmth in your center resurfacing, growing fast as Namjoon bounces you harder on his dick.
You didn’t realize you had moved away from the bookcase until you feel the soft fabric of the couch hit your back. Namjoon lets out a soft grunt as he falls slightly on top of you, readjusting the two of you into a comfortable position in between each thrust. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck again, nipping along your collarbone as he transitions his movements into a slow grind. You feel like he’s holding himself back again and you silently hope you don’t ruin the mood with your next words. “You can mark me, Joonie. Only if you want to.”
You feel Namjoon’s hips pause as his shoulders tense under your arms. He leans up, wide eyed as he meets you face to face. “Y/N… You don’t know what you’re asking for. I mark you, I claim you. You’re mine forever.” He cups your face in his hands, his eyes watching you so intently, you feel as if he could peer into your soul. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes, Namjoon. I’ve only ever wanted you.” The look in Namjoon’s eyes turns feral as he dives down, taking your lips into a passionate kiss. His hips pull back, reigniting his pace with one hard thrust as he once again begins to pound into you. Releasing you from his kiss, he grabs your chin turning your face to the side as he whispers into your ear.
“All mine, huh? Pretty baby wants me to claim her? Want me to mark you? Mate you? Fill you up with my pups?” He continues to fucking into you as he insuates each point of his speech with hard thrusts. “You want me to pump you full of my cum? Fuck you until you’re good and pregnant?”
His words have your mind turning to mush. Thoughts of being his and only his taking over your every thought. A future where you bear his children. A future with him. You can hardly make out the words of agreement that fall from your lips as your entire body starts to tingle. Your walls begin to flutter, the subtle indication causing Namjoon to quicken his pace, helping you chase your release alongside his.
“Come with me baby.” Your mind barely registers Namjoons words as waves of euphoria flow through your body. The power of your orgasm minimizes the sudden stab of pain on your shoulder from where Namjoon’s canines pierce your skin from his bite. You feel his length twitch inside of you as spurts of his come fill you to the brim. Suddenly, you feel an uncomfortable pressure just past your entrance. The excessive stretching of your walls causes you to whine as you try to squirm free. Namjoon caresses the side of your face as he peppers kisses around his mark, whispering to you that it’s okay. You let your body relax as much as possible. The ringing in your ears subsides. The only sound you hear now is the mismatched heavy breathing between the two of you.
Namjoon places his arm next to your head, trying to prop himself up to keep as much of his body weight on top of you. He leans up just a bit, the movement causing his knot inside you to slightly tug at your entrance and you wince. Namjoon freezes before lowering himself back down a bit. “Sorry,” he huffs out in a chuckle. Kissing you on the lips as he rubs tiny circles with his thumb on your hip. “I know this can’t be comfortable, but it’ll go down soon.”
“It’s okay,” you breathe out, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck. “I can handle it. Anything for you.”
He smiles at your words, leaning in closer to you to rub the tip of his nose against yours as you smile back at him. You both lie there for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of being so full of him as his cock slowly softens inside of you. The feeling doesn’t last much longer as the realization of where you still are sinks in. “Um, how soon is soon though?” you ask. Your nerves make you feel suddenly very exposed under the fact that anyone could have walked in during your activities.
Namjoon leans back up and gives his hip a little test tug. With no signs of resistance, he continues to pull completely out of you. The both of you wince at the loss, you once more as you feel the mixtures of your releases starting to spill out of you. Namjoon catches the escaped fluids with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you. “Fuck, I need to get you back home,” he says as he moves off the couch, retrieving your discarded clothes and bringing them back to you. “Seeing you like this will definitely be something that could set off my heat again.”
You let out a giggle as you grab your panties, slipping them on before any more of his release tries to slip out. “We’re lucky Jimin didn’t get back early.”
As if on queue, you hear the front door chime, alerting you of someone’s arrival. “Hellooo! Joon Y/N? You guys still here?” Jimin’s voice trails up the stairs as you and Namjoon look at each other, eyes growing wide in panic. You both scramble to throw on the rest of your clothes. Barely getting the final pieces settled in place before Jimin’s blonde hair comes into sight. He stops at the top of the stairs, head cocking to the side in curiosity as he sees you and Namjoon standing awkwardly by the couch. Mischief twinkling in his eyes as he crosses his arms. “What have you guys been up to? Y/N, what’s that on your neck?”
You reach up to your shoulder, feeling part of the bite mark sticking out of your collar and pulling your shirt to cover the rest. Namjoon lets out an awkward cough, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the stairwell. “I was just showing Y/N around. But it’s time for us to go, see you in a week.”
You give Jimin a wave by as you follow Namjoon down the stairs. As you make it to the front door, you hear Jimin call down from the loft, “I hope you have a great vacation, Joon. Have fun you two.”
You see Namjoon’s cheeks flush pink as he pulls you faster out the door and towards your car, the weather taking a temporary break from the rain. Opening your car door for you, he waits for you to start to get in before tugging on your arm, bringing you back to standing in front of him. He pulls you in for a kiss, the both of you breaking into a smile before it ends. Oh yes. Fun you two will most definitely have.
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Floating (Part 1)
Summary: Hiding your phobias from your closest friends may not have been the best idea- you were definitely about to pay for it.
Pairing: College!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1.8k
Author’s Note: So, bit of a weird one- this series is partially inspired by the request above but also by my deep horrific fear of the ocean. Bear with me, it will make sense soon, I promise.
All you could see was blue. A deep, murky blue stretching in every direction.
You looked upwards, hoping to see the glimmering of the water’s surface above you, but there was nothing. You were deep this time.
You tried to swim upwards, but no matter how hard you kicked you could still feel yourself sinking. Dark shadows started to circle. Your lungs were burning, panic reaching fever pitch, urge to pull in a deep breath becoming too much to overcome.
Your eyes shot open.
Nat was pretty harshly shaking your knee while doing her best to still keep an eye on the road. ‘What the hell, man? You were kicking my dashboard in your sleep.’
You scanned your eyes over the spattering of faint muddy footprints in front of you. ‘Shit, sorry. Bad dream.’
‘About what? Fighting the fucking Karate Kid?’
‘Something like that.’
You would’ve confessed the truth, but you figured that the drive towards a long weekend in a beach-house wasn’t exactly the best time to tell her about your phobia-inspired reoccurring dream.
‘I get nightmares too, sometimes.’ Wanda’s quiet voice came from the backseat.
‘Yeah? What about?’
‘That time I saw Nat’s butt by accident.’
You burst out laughing and dangled an open hand over your shoulder, swiftly receiving a high five. ‘Nice.’
‘You guys suck.’ Nat dug into her pocket, pulling out her phone and throwing it into your lap. ‘Check if Steve’s texted, he should be there by now.’
‘Mhmm, he says they’ve arrived. He also says that he can’t wait to get you alone on the beach and make you-’
She grabbed the phone away. ‘That’s great, thanks.’
You’d only met Steve a handful of times, cause he went to a different college on the other side of the city, but he seemed nice enough. That being said, you were pretty sure that he’d originally organised this weekend as a lads’ holiday but didn’t have the heart to say no when Nat hinted her interest.
You and Wanda had basically just been roped along to keep her company while the guys butt-chugged beer in the sunshine.
You finally arrived and Steve greeted you at the door, quickly informing you and Wanda that the two bedrooms left to choose from were pretty inconsistent in quality. One was a spacious master with an en-suite and full view of the beach, the other was one of two cramped attic rooms with owls nesting in the walls- guess which one you ended up in.
After unpacking all your stuff and communing with your new avian roommates, you flopped onto the bed, folding your arms over your face in exasperation.
You’d spent weeks before this holiday compiling as many excuses as you could think of not to get into the ocean, but you were convinced they still wouldn’t be enough. If anyone tried to coerce you into anything more than a paddle then shit would hit the fan and you’d have to start attacking-
‘Jesus fuck.’ You physically jumped, bolting upright.
Snapping your head in the direction of the noise, you were pretty taken aback to see a brick shit-house of a man standing in the doorway that you’d forgotten to close.
‘Actually, most people call me Bucky, but for you I can probably make an exception.’
You clambered to your feet. ‘Well, Bucky, you scared the shit out of me. Are you one of Steve’s entourage or are you just some creep that’s broken in?’
‘Depends. Which answer gets me invited in?’
‘Oh, second one, definitely. Criminally dangerous perverts are kinda my thing.’
‘No, you fucking idiot.’ You walked over to the door, hoping he’d shift himself when you began to close it. He didn’t. ‘Could you move? I need to get changed.’
‘Move in or out?’
The look on your face seemed to answer that question for you, cause he put his arms up in surrender and took a step back, an unholy smirk plastered on his face as you slammed the door.
Low mumbling came through the wood. ‘If you need me I’m just across the hall, neighbour.’
You tried to shake him off while rooting around for some beach-appropriate clothes but, unfortunately, just that short conversation had started the cogs turning in your mind.
Yeah, he was pretty clearly a massive slag with no boundaries and an attitude problem, but you couldn’t deny that he was also the hottest thing that’d spoken to you in months. All of your recent relationships had been absolutely abysmal, so it might be nice to just bang it out with some asshole for the weekend...
Eh, you’d just have to see how it went. What did you have to lose?
Nat and Wanda were waiting for you in the kitchen. Apparently the boys were already on the beach setting up a fire pit for the evening, so you figured now was a good time to get a little more information about your potential weekend fuckbuddy.
‘So, I met Steve’s friend. He’s pretty hot.’
Nat raised an eyebrow at you. ‘Which one? Sam?’
To this day you have no idea how she did it, but in an instant Nat somehow managed to turn into human fire at the sound of that name. Her eyes widened, head starting to erratically shake, an accusatory finger pointing right between your eyes.
‘You stay the fuck away from him.’ You looked over to Wanda, both of you stunned into silence. ‘Y/n, I’m saying this because I love you. Every woman he touches turns to crap. Stay away.’
‘I mean, it’d just be a bit of fun, it’s not like-’
‘That’s what they all say.’ Your intensely puzzled expression obviously made her realise that she needed to back up these wild claims with some evidence. ‘Look, he goes to the same college as one of my high school friends. They had a thing, she was super into him, but it ended because he slept with three of her best friends. In the same weekend.’
You couldn’t say you were surprised. If he spoke to all women like he spoke to you back in the bedroom then, by law of averages, he probably got laid a lot. You weren’t an idiot, though, you could easily separate sex from feelings- especially if you knew that the guy was a huge player going into it.
‘He’s probably pretty good after all that practice though, right?’
Wanda found that pretty funny, but it earned you a severe case of daggers from Nat as she grabbed you firmly by the shoulders. ‘Look at me and repeat. I will not sleep with James Barnes.’
‘Who is James Barnes?’
‘Bucky. I will not sleep with Bucky. Say it.’
You rolled your eyes. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I’m as serious as a kick in the vulva, say it. NOW.’
‘Alright alright, I won’t sleep with Bucky, Jesus.’ You managed to shrug her hands off. ‘Happy?’
‘Yes. Now let’s go set some wood on fire.’
The fire pit was really going by the time it got dark. You paddled with everyone for a little while, hiding how on edge you were the whole time, but managed to get out of a midnight swim by claiming you were too tired. They went ahead and you just laid out on a blanket in the sand, happily relaxing on your own.
Then your peace was disturbed.
Bucky emerged from the water, wearing nothing but some rather clingy swimming shorts, and somehow started walking towards you in slow motion. He gave you a knowing smile before laying himself beside you on the blanket, about as close as he could manage without actually touching.
‘Nice swim, James?’
‘James?’ He flipped onto his side to face you, propping himself up on his elbow. ‘You been talking about me already?’
Shit. No way out of that one.
‘Well, you’ve got quite a reputation.’
‘Tell me about it, apparently I can’t even escape it all the way out here.’
‘Things spread, James.’ You glanced down to his crotch with a smirk, then back to his face. ‘You should know that better than anyone.’
A low chuckle vibrated next to you. ‘Real nice.’
Smiling to yourself, you folded your arms behind your head and let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sounds of the ocean and the distant warmth of the fire. You could sense that Bucky was still staring at you, the feelings that elicited really making if difficult for you to keep the promise you made just a few hours earlier.
‘If you’re tired, maybe we should go to bed.’
You couldn’t help but burst into astonished laughter. ‘You’re unbelievable.’
‘Life’s too short to mess around.’
You heard the vague sounds of the rest of your group wading out of the water. The blanket moved underneath you as Bucky shifted towards you slightly, his voice right next to your ear when he spoke again.
‘I’ll be waiting, if you’re up for it.’
Your eyes flicked open just in time to see him climb back onto his feet, wave goodnight to everyone and slink back towards the house.
This was an interesting situation. You could either keep your promise to Nat by heading straight to your own bed and avoiding Bucky for the rest of the weekend- cause, let’s be real, that’s the only way you’d be able to resist him- or you could head to his room and have possibly the best sex of your life, which Nat would never find out about anyway cause you’d blackmail him into silence.
It seemed like kind of a no-brainer.
You were young and single, damn it, you could have great meaningless sex with whoever the hell you wanted.
You gave it ten minutes before following him.
His bedroom door swung open and you were lifted clean off the ground before you could even manage two knocks, his goofy expression face making you giggle as he dropped you on the bed and climbed on top of you.
He leant towards you, but you shoved a hand over his mouth before he could make contact. ‘No-one can’t find out about this, especially Nat. Understand?’
‘Mmmph mmphm?’ He mumbled into your hand, making you roll your eyes and let his face go. ‘Why not?’
‘I, uh- I basically promised her I’d stay away from you. Plus, I don’t want everyone to know I’ve had a ride on the city bike.’
‘Yeah, I get that a lot.’
He gave you a cocky wink before dropping his head and closing the gap between you, slowly lowering himself down and letting his body come to rest against yours.
This definitely wasn’t a terrible idea, right?
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of this story.
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Saturday Challenge: And They Were Roommates
Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event
Prompt: And They Were Roommates
Tim was surprised to learn that MDC Designs had set up shop in Gotham City of all places. He was in dire need of a new suit for the Wayne Gala after the last one was sliced to ribbons. The mysterious designer had worked with Jagged Stone when she was just a teenager. Now he was on his way to her home studio across town.
Tim got out of the car and knocked on the front door of the apartment. "Just a minute!" A young woman's voice called from the other side of the door. She rushed over and opened the door to greet him, on the other side of the door was a petite young woman with dark hair and blue eyes. "Hi, you must be Tim, right?" She asked cheerfully.
"Yeah, are you MDC?" Tim asked, maybe she was their assistant or something.
To his surprise she nodded, "yes, I am. Those are my initials." she explained.
"I was hoping to commission you for a suit," Tim held up the order confirmation.
"Yes, by all means, come in" she said as she opened the door a little wider to let him in. Tim looked around the studio as he let himself in, and he found it hard to believe he was still in Gotham.
There were pink fairy lights hanging on the walls, the furniture was either pastel pink, lilac, and maybe a soft jade green on occasion. There was a small kitchen in the corner of the studio and a few separate rooms off to the side. She gestured to the small podium in the middle of the studio. She had asked Tim to wear simple, basic clothes so that she could take his measurements accurately. Tim took off his shoes and made his way over.
"So, why Gotham?" Tim asked, trying to make some conversation with the young designer taking his measurements. "Not that I'm complaining just that..." he assured her.
"It's fine," she said, "I came here because I thought," Marinette tried to choose her next words carefully. "I thought maybe I could bring some light into Gotham City, it's just so different from what I'm used to growing up." She explained, "Sometimes it's so different that it inspires me... creatively, I mean."
"Braver men have tried to do just that." Tim thought. "So uh, Miss..." Tim stumbled on the young woman's name.
"Just Marinette is fine," she said, smiling up at him. He honestly wasn't expecting her to be so... friendly, especially someone who had been living in Gotham for any length of time.
"Can you finish the suit by the end of the month?" Tim asked.
"Won’t be a problem, I'd say it’ll be done maybe two weeks from now," Marinette told him.
He heard the door open behind him but couldn't turn around and see who it was. Not unless he wanted to annoy the person taking a tape measure to him. They were probably a roommate or someone, this was clearly a studio that someone lived in. Maybe they had a roommate or there was another artist who was living here. That was until Tim heard the other person speak.
"Hey Pixie, need anything while I'm out?" a voice asked, one that was too familiar to Tim. He whipped his head around to find...
"What's he doing here?!" The two of them asked in unison.
Marinette gave Jason a confused look, "Wait, he's 'Replacement'?"
"Dude, that's what MDC knows me as?" Tim seemed more annoyed at Jason than at Marinette. "Also what are you doing here?" He asked, while Jason looked through the fridge for something that wasn't either sweet or an expensive wheel of cheese.
"I live here." Jason deadpanned, grabbing a soda can from the fridge.
As Jason was looking through the fridge, Tim whispered to Marinette. “I’d move out if I were you, Jason’s dangerous.”
Just as Tim finishes whispering to Marinette, Jason yells “I can hear you asshole!”
Marinette frowned at Tim’s advice, “I know he’s the Red Hood. We’ve been living together for a while.”
Tim’s eyes widen, he looks back at Jason to see him walking back towards the living room. “You told her?” he cries incredulously.
Jason takes a large gulp of soda before answering, “I kinda came back injured.”
Marinette interrupted. “You still owe me a bolt of silk.”
Jason continued, ignoring Marinette’s interruption. “I kinda bled all over her stuff.” Then taking another swig of his soda.
Tim tentatively asks “So, uh, how did you two become roommates?”
“Rent in Gotham is stupid expensive, it takes two people’s income to pay for rent and utilities.” Marinette huffed.
“Yeah Timmy, not everyone can afford to live the high life at Wayne Manor” Jason said.
“Jason, if I lose customers because of you, this tape measure is going to have a very tight fit around your neck” Marinette hissed, before giving Tim an apologetic smile.
Tim groans and rubs his own forehead, “Okay fine, but what about you Jason? I doubt money was the issue.” he asked.
Jason shrugs, “Do you honestly think anyone would go looking for the Red Hood in a bright pink fashion studio?”
“Point taken” agreed Tim. Marinette resumes measuring him, moving on to measure his waist.
“Whoa Replacement, have you gained weight? No wonder you need a new suit.” joked Jason.
Marinette shot a glare at Jason, “All right that’s enough, don’t you need to be somewhere?”
Jason tosses his empty soda can into the bin all while chuckling at himself, “All right fine, need anything while I’m out?”
Marinette ponders for a second, “Chicken and wine, I’ll make Coq au vin tonight.”
Jason smirks, “Sure I’ll head to the grocery store to and ask for cock and wine” laughing like a maniac before leaving.
Tim releases a breath that he has been holding, “finally some peace and quiet.”
“Sorry, he’s usually out or reading quietly in the corner when other customers are here.” Marinette assured him.
“We’re brothers, trust me this is us being friendly.” He told her.
“Brothers?” Marinette asked, she would have thought that meant they had the same surnames.
“Adopted brothers. ” Tim clarified, Marinette nodded her head as she gathered up her sewing supplies.
“I see” Marinette replied, she looked over at Tim as he stepped down from the podium. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’ll have your suit ready in time for the Wayne Gala.” she said as she stowed her supplies away.
The next time Red Hood and Red Robin run into each other.
Jason: You need to lay off Alfred's baking, or you might need a new Robin suit soon.
Tim: Why? Are you gonna bleed all over this one too?
Ladybug climbs in through the window late one night, Jason dramatically flicks on a lamp.
Red Hood: Well well well, it seems you have some explaining to do young lady.
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champagne problems (part 1)
here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!
no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt
obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!
Masterlist | AO3
Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.
“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.
Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.
“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”
“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”
Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…
“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”
“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”
“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”
Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”
“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”
Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.
As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.
“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.
Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”
“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”
The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.
“You booked the night train for a reason
So you could sit there in this hurt
Bustling crowds or silent sleepers
You're not sure which is worse”
“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.
“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”
It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.
“Because I dropped your hand while dancing
Left you out there standing
Crestfallen on the landing
“Thomas? Are you alright?”
He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”
“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”
“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”
Thomas kept reading.
“Your mom's ring in your pocket
My picture in your wallet
Your heart was glass, I dropped it
Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.
“You told your family for a reason
You couldn't keep it in
Your sister splashed out on the bottle
Now no one's celebrating”
He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.
And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.
“Dom Pérignon, you brought it
No crowd of friends applauded
Your hometown skeptics called it
He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.
“You had a speech, you're speechless
Love slipped beyond your reaches
And I couldn't give a reason
A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.
Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.
I… I’m sorry, Thomas.
Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-
Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.
That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.
“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door
November flush and your flannel cure
"This dorm was once a madhouse"
I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"
How evergreen, our group of friends
Don't think we'll say that word again
And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls
That we once walked through”
Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.
“One for the money, two for the show
I never was ready so I watch you go
Sometimes you just don't know the answer
'Til someone's on their knees and asks you
"You’re the only one I want by my side,
What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”
Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.
It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.
Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.
That was the last time they’d spoken.
Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.
“Well, you'll find the real thing instead
Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred
And hold your hand while dancing
Never leave you standing
Crestfallen on the landing
With champagne problems”
Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.
“Your mom's ring in your pocket
New picture in your wallet
You won't remember all my
“You won't remember all my
Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.
Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.
He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.
“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.
“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.
There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.
“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”
Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”
Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”
“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”
“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”
Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.
Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really
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S o u l m a t e | oneshot
▶ summary: One day you feel a heath spreading through your body. You don’t know what this means, until you finally see him... Your soulmate.
▶ genre: slight angst, fluff, smut (Wolf!au | soulmate!au)
▶ word count:
▶ warnings: Alpha Jungkook, Omega reader, mentions of rape/drugs, physical pain, heath, impregnating, mating, knotting, imprinting, oral, swearing, degrading, wall-sex, floor-sex, choking.
▶ A/N: heyyy, this is my first story on this account :). Hope y’all will like it! Basically is this just a story about wolf soulmates going at it, sooooo... enjoy? HAHA
It was a hot and blooming summer when it happened. It was late noon when you were quitely washing some dishes in your apartment. It was indeed quiet, even peacefully I might add. The water was rushing over a cup as you were working hard on removing that one irritating spot. The day had been just as placid. You have run your errands after meeting up with some friends at a local park.
‘You are looking a bit pale y/n, are you okay?’ your best friend asked. You frown at her, ‘Yeah I am alright’. You replied, but you deep down knew something was up. Since the moment you had stepped out of your bed that morning, your senses were heightened. Something was coming, but you couldn’t quite figure out if this were to be positive or negative. You had shrugged off this creeping feeling for the rest of the day. With every minute you could feel it getting worse, but you continued shrugging it off. ‘It must be a little summer flue...’ You had mumbled to yourself as you were trying to focus back on your dishes.
You couldn’t really describe it. It was this heath from your core, burning hotter by the second. It wasn’t anything like your heath, because you have had those a few times already. It wasn’t the time for it too, so why are you feeling this strong urge? And what is the urge for? These kind of questions kept popping up in your head as you finally finished your duties for the day. It was only when you put away the last dish, you yelled very loudly.
Your body was suddenly on fire from the inside and you couldn’t help yourself but to let yourself lay down on the cold floor. Your pulse was high and your body was covered in sweat. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ you yelled out, trying to get a grip on yourself. It wasn’t long before you totally blacked out, losing to the strong sickening feeling.
‘What the hell happened?’ Jimin asks Jungkook worryingly as Jungkook finally opened his eyes . Jungkook sits up first, rubbing his eyes as his vision was a bit blurry. He looks up to his towering older friend Jimin, frowning as he tries to stabalize his body. ‘You just suddenly blacked out’, Jimin elaborates and that made Jungkook even more confused. Jungkook looks around him and notices they are located on a sidewalk near the center of the city. Jungkook tries to recall what had happened before he blacked out, but couldn’t remember anything about a life-threatening situation. As he is an alpha, it also couldn’t be his health. So what happened?
‘I really don’t know hyung, the only thing that I can remember is that I have had a weird feeling all day’, Jungkook explains as Jimin helps him get up to his feet. ‘What sort of feeling?’ Jimin asks. ‘Well, I just feel some kind of heath in my core and a weird urge to go east.’. Jimin looks even more confused than before. They both continued to walk down the street, heading to their new apartment they had bought together. ‘I don’t know man, maybe there is some coke left in your system from yesterday’, Jimin laughed as he gave Jungkook a pat on the shoulder. Jungkook hissed at that, showing that Jimin has gone too close to his boundaries. Though Jimin is older, Jungkook is the alpha and will always hold authority.
Jimin and Jungkook both came from the same school and both their packs were very close with each other, so they connected in a very brotherly way. Jimin as a beta and Jungkook as an alpha. Their classes would clash pretty much all the time and would Jungkook have to correct Jimin more often than not. But for a pack is this pretty normal. It is also Jungkook’s job to keep everyone in place and to make them aware who is the boss. Though this is a very primary instinct of Jungkook, it isn’t something he likes to do. He only corrects his pack when he has to.
‘The only thing I can imagine is that your soulmate is nearby’, Jimin suggested and Jungkook let out a little chuckle. ‘That rarely ever happens and I can hardly imagine it would make me faint’, he reasons and Jimin agrees.
They finally arrive at the apartment block as Jungkook can feel the same heath returning to his body. His senses have now shifted to the north, as if the thing he urges has moved. He looks confused around him. There is no person to be seen, only a few buildings. He couldn’t help but to set his focus on the north, looking at the building across. He can feel it, he is supposed to be there. But why? What can be in that building that is this important, that every fiber in his body urges for it?
A loud uneasy noise fills your room just when the light of dawn hits your window. Early, it is very early. You haven’t been awake this early for 2 months when your school year ended. But here you are again, up and ready to begin a new year. Though you are excited for it, the uneasy feeling hasn’t left you. It didn’t go down at all, maybe it even worsened. You hadn’t fainted from it though, like a week back. Luckily your roommate came home just a few minutes after, discovering your body laying helplessly against the kitchen tiles. She is human and in a world where the wolves are hidden, her logical response was to call the emergency number.
The separation of the two kinds has been here for a long time. The threat your kind holds over the humans always has been a big problem. Many wars have past for the wolves to realize that humans can’t live with the idea of a superior species living among them. With technology still developing, which could make great damage to you, was there a collective decision to hide for the humans. As centuries past, humans were quick to forget the many wars you have fought.
Many believe werewolves are just a fable and you like to keep it this way. So when your roommate was waiting for the ambulance to arrive and you came back to your senses, you were quick to call off the ambulance. ‘What are you doing? You just blacked out, you need medical help!’, your roommate yelled out in disbelieve. You tried to explain nothing is going on and you weren’t in any sort of pain. ‘I just haven’t eaten yet today, nothing else’. It took you a while to calm her down and you can’t blame her. You would probably react the same way if it was you who found her like that. A wolf is just way stronger and build different, so when they would examine you in the hospital, someone would definitely get suspicious.
The past week your roommate has been keeping an eye on you. She made sure you were eating enough. It is like having a mother all over again, while it was your intention to escape being nursed all the time. Although you got quite annoyed with her this past week, you couldn’t help but to appreciate her at the same time. What a world it would be if humans could live without fear for your kind like this. Needing such harsh adjustments to the point you can’t be who you are, only to protect yourself is just lunatic. But it is a rule all packs live by and you aren’t one to break these rules.
Your feet hit the cold wooden floor of your cozy room. 7:00 am, reads your alarm clock located on your nightstand. A sigh leaves your lips as you build up the courage to begin the day. Your first day of the new school year was going to be promising. A lot of classes are added and you will be with a new group of people. Your old class was great too, but you are in need for some change. With this constant burning feeling in your core you have had for the past week, you know something will definitely be different.
You go along your usual morning routine before picking your new favurite outfit. You packed your books and got out to the living room, where your roommate was peacefully eating some cereal.
‘Good morning!’, you great her, and she throws you a smile back. ‘Morning babe! You are looking so great!’, She comments, nudging at your clothing. You give her a wink,’Yeah I got it last week, thought I give myself a few nice things before starting the school year’. Your roommate agrees before she resumed eating her breakfast.
Jimin sighs upon seeing Jungkook’s sweaty body. He is cramped up in his bed, a frown on his face as he made little wines in his sleep. Tossing and turning has been a reoccurring theme these past few days. Jimin doesn’t know what to do with him. It looks like he is sick, but being a very strong guy and an alpha, is sickness very rare. So what’s going on?
He gives Jungkook a small nudge on his shoulder, waking him up softly. Jimin isn’t about to make the same mistake as yesterday. Jimin woke up Jungkook a bit more aggressive and Jungkook lashed out immediately, giving Jimin a little cut on his cheek. He would have pouted at Jungkook, whom would apologize for his weird behavior.
‘First day at school Cookie, get up’, he taunted in his ear, lowering to Jungkook’s level. Jungkook grunted as he slowly wakes up, turning around to look at his hyung. He lets out a sigh before sitting up straight, hands finding his face as he rubs his eyes. ‘Hyung I can’t do this any longer, my body feels so hot all the time’, Jungkook starts complaining and Jimin sits next to him, sighing along. ‘I know Jungkookie, but I am sure it will fly over. Maybe today will get your mind on other things’, Jimin says, trying to elevate the mood. Jungkook lets out a growl under his breath, anger suddenly building up in his body. Jimin immediately gets off the bed to give Jungkook space, which was a right move because Jungkook grabs a book laying beside him before throwing it through the room. ‘I just don’t fucking want this anymore! Why is this happening to me?!’, Jungkook yells in frustration. Jimin sighs again ‘I don’t know Jungkook, but acting like this won’t solve anything. Why don’t you focus on your new school? There will be a lot of great omega’s there for you to get your anger out on’, Jimin suggested, and he notices Jungkook’s ears perking up by that. Jimin chuckles before making his way out of the room. ‘I guess that wouldn’t hurt’, Jungkook mutters under his breath before getting out of bed and starting his day with a shower.
It’s 8:30 am when you arrive at your first class of the day. A few other students were already seated in the lecture hall. You could smell the difference of people looming around. A few humans, but also a few wolves were located inside the room. As you are an omega yourself, some wolves stand a threat against you. Though you have learned how to avoid other alpha’s and beta’s, you have had your fair share of degrading in your life. But because you are in a room full of humans, degrading isn’t allowed for any of the wolves. That way your species gets protected. So you aren’t scared to walk into a lecture hall full of wolves, because you know they won’t do anything.
You take a seat somewhere in the middle where no one is around and start to unpack. It was when you were finished setting up, your brewing hotness of the past week suddenly turns up a notch. You frown at yourself as you feel your stomach. Your skin is somewhat on fire and you begin to feel very uncomfortable. You wiggle around on your spot, almost squirming at this feeling. The thing you have urged for is coming closer. You begin to look around you furiously, but not knowing what you’re looking for. Fuck what is going on with me.
And it was then that it hits you. A story your grandma told you long ago finally serviced. She told you about having a soulmate and that everyone has them. When they come closer, your whole body comes in action. You have the urge to go to them and if you don’t, your body will try to fight your will. She explained that every soulmate couple has a different reaction to that. For her and grandpa it was feeling a very harsh headache. For you it was heath. It is your soulmate, it has to be your soulmate. Are you even ready for this? Do you want to commit to someone this early on? What if he is aggressive or worse, what is he’s an alpha? That won’t be a happy relationship, that will be endless terror.
As the heath began spreading through your body and your head spinning with horrific thoughts, you automaticlly started packing all your stuff. You were scared for what might come, what person your soulmate might be. It might be the end of you, but you know just as well that the feeling won’t stop until you see him. So, you will see him, for one second and then you will go your separate ways.
Then the feeling suddenly stopped. A shiver goes through your body as you look at the entrance door. There he is. Your hearth started to race as the both of you looked at one another, inspecting each others features. The first thing you notice is the glow around his body, something you have never seen with anyone else. He looks like some kind of Norse god. He is also tall, muscular and... You take a small sniff his way... he is an alpha. Though that thought saddens you, you can’t help yourself but be mesmerized by his enchanting features. This is it, this is your soulmate. But this won’t be something to be happy about, he is an alpha and you know about the horrifying stories. They aren’t nice to their soulmates and being an omega is only worse. So with that note, you stand up, cutting off your eye contact and walking towards the opposite exit.
Jungkook stands there dumbfounded. He looks at you as you walk away. Your beautiful figure just disappearing behind the exit door. Jimin nudges him, getting Jungkook out of his trans. ‘So I guess it was a soulmate think’, Jimin comments and Jungkook nods slowly. ‘Yeah, I guess’. Jungkook kept staring at the door, not getting out of his trans. The moment he saw you, his burning feeling stopped. Instead, something else far more romantic and sexual opened. The urge has now turned so primal that he couldn’t do anything than staring. If he had made a step towards you, he would’ve turned on his wolf. That’s why he choice to let you walk out of that room. He isn’t ever letting you go away again after this, and he was going to make you aware of that.
‘Go after her Cookie’, Jimin says as he nudges Jungkook again. With that Jungkook comes out of his train of thought and starts running out of the classroom. He wasn’t going to let you leave. You were now his, you aren’t allowed to leave. All these thoughts ran through Jungkook’s head as he sprinted through the school. His eyes turned blue as his wolf tried to get out, so he had to hide them when running past humans. He needed to claim you within the hour and finding you wouldn’t be an issue. Your scent has been planted in his brain while the both of you were staring at one another. He knew you were close, but you were also running. A smirk was creeping up his face, kind of liking the chase. You are putting up a fight, meaning you will be able to handle his alpha side. He needs someone to fight, otherwise it will just be boring.
You almost let your keys fall when you try to open your front door. You can smell him getting closer with the second. It’s as if you can locate his being, which is not something you were ever able to do on such distance. You were quick to close the door behind you and to run to your room. Somehow you feel like you can’t hide within your apartment, as if he is already here. But how? How did he get in? You scan your room, but then your heart stops. His body radiates behind your body and you feel is breath tickle your neck. This is it, now he will rape you. He will make you his bitch and you won’t ever get to live another happy day. Your eyes close in fear and your whole body stiffens against his body.
You waited. You are expecting for him to pick you up and throw you on the bed. But nothing comes. Not after one minute, two minutes. You feel yourself calm down as time passes by. Why is he not doing anything? Is he just waiting until I let my guard down before attacking me? Is he maybe different? No he can’t be, all alphas want is to ruin omegas.
5 minutes passes with him standing behind you and not doing anything. Then you felt something else creeping up your spine. Something you didn’t let through because of your anguish towards him. It feels very sexual, very primal and romantic. The urge you felt towards him has returned, but in a way that you only witness during heath. Although heath is way more sexual, this goes beyond that. Your heart starts racing again, but this time it isn’t because you are scared. You long for him. You r whole being wants to be with him, but you can’t help yourself but to rationalize against it. No, they are all bad.
He sighs against your neck, causing pleasure to shoot through your body. You can’t stop your shivers and the heath that is growing between your legs. It’s an instinct so deep within you, there is no use stopping it. He reacts with a chuckle as he lets a hand slide over your delicate waist. ‘Why were you scared?’, he asks and you immediately notice his soft but low arousing voice. Every fiber on your body is heightened and his little touches aren’t helping you in any way. Trying to focus on his question, you answer: ‘You’re an alpha. I am scared you will treat me bad’. Jungkook frowns at your thought, knowing that he won’t ever hurt you in his life. It has only been a 30 minutes since he had met you, but the way he feels about you is indescribable. It’s a feeling of protectiveness, love and urge that combines his feelings for you. He will not ever hurt you.
‘What you feel right now, is what I also feel. I will never hurt you’.
Though this might be an empty promise, you can feel he is speaking the truth. With that you dare to turn around to face him, him keeping his hand around your waist. His handsome eyes immediately find yours. You can finally memorize all his closest features he has to offer. His facial features are amazingly handsome and his lips look so kissable. You can’t help but to reach up to his soft fluffy hair, grabbing the ear band that hides his soft wolf features. He is a black wolf with blue eyes, an amazing combination and you can’t help but to feel the need to mate with him. Your offspring will be so strong and beautiful. Your hand moves down to his cheek, which he leans his head against, closing his eyes in approval.
‘Your name?’, you ask as you pull your hand away. ‘Jeon Jungkook, you?’, he questions and you instantly remember his packs name. It’s a pretty large and respectable pack, something you aren’t apposed to. ‘I am y/full/n’, you answer, and he smiles at hearing the familiar pack names. Though the packs aren’t close, they won’t be mad about this. Everything just seems aligned.
He takes a little step closer as his hand now rests on your back, pressing you against his chest. You don’t fear him anymore and you feel comfortable being in his arms. ‘I know we just met, but I have the strongest urge I to claim you right now’, he confesses. And it was then that you felt something grow against your pelvis. You can’t help but to snort at that, but at the same time you felt the same thing. It’s as if you need to seal the deal. He needs to imprint himself in you, so everyone knows who you belong to. The thought of that spread a heath throughout your body. Jungkook smiled at you as he notices your body heath going up and your heartbeat racing. ‘I take that as a positive’.
He pulls you up by your waist as he swings you over his shoulder. He closes the door of your room before letting you fall on the bed. You can’t help but admire the way he easily pulled you up like that. Your omega wolf felt protected and only an alpha like Jungkook could make you feel this way. He pulls off his shirt he was wearing before joining you on the bed. Your eyes take in all of his muscular torso, knowing he will be railing you with it in just a few minutes.
He pulls apart your legs before positioning between them. You eagerly want to hold on to him, but he was quick to grab your wrists and plant them beside your head. You are taken aback by his action as a small yelp left your lips. ‘You really think I wasn’t going to punish you for the little escape you pulled?’ He taunted as he leans down beside your ear. His breath fanning against your neck got you shivering all over again and your pussy started to throb under his body. You could practically feel Jungkook’s smirk as he knew what effect he has on you. Though you want to wipe that smirk off his face, you knew he was right. You were disobedient and the alpha needs to put you in your place. Luckily is his punishment not that bad.
‘Good girl’, he purrs in your ear, complimenting your behavior. ‘You will do as I please when I fuck this little body of yours, okay?’. You nod eagerly, wanting him to do everything to you. It’s in your blood to obey him and this way you both get what you want.
He let go of your wrists and takes a little bit of time to take all of your clothed body in. Your eyes look so desperate and oh... the sweet smell of your pussy waving in the air drives him crazy. Jungkook lets out a very low grunt, making your body ache for him. You let out a whine as you begin to fidget on the spot, uncomfortably trying to releave yourself He was quick to growl at you, signing that you can’t move and you have to obey him.
‘You desperate little bitch, you want to get fucked so badly?’, he asks and you nod. ‘Use your words’, he commands. ‘Yes alpha...’. He smirks pleased, before he grabs your top and rips it off of you. You let out a small yelp, but before you knew it you were in your underwear and your clothing ripped on the floor. Though you normally would care for this, you were so ready to be mated that you really didn’t mind. He flips you around on your belly before propping your ass up in the air. His clothed length found its way against your ass as he started dry humping against you. You couldn’t help but moan upon feeling his cock gliding against your pussy. instinctively you arch your back further against his cock, making you feel his amazing length. He is for sure large and will fill you up so good.
‘Hmm, you like that baby? You want this cock to fill you up?’ He purrs before laying his upper body against your back. He began leaving kisses on your neck, making your body shiver. Small moans leave your mouth, feeling so happy to be close to him. Jungkook also lets out groans against your skin and you can’t wait for him to give you his pups.
‘Please’, you start begging as his cock doesn’t stop teasing you. He chuckles against you, loving to tease you like this. ‘You want my cock?’, he asks as he grabs your neck from behind. You could barely get a ‘yes’ out, but it was enough for him to pull down your panties and prop your ass higher up in the air. ‘Let me first get my appetizer’, he grunts upon seeing your soaked pussy. You let your upper body rest against the bed as you arch your ass higher into the air, giving him a better view. You can hear him growling by seeing your action, he loves it. The smell of your pussy overwhelms him, he has never had something so sweet like this before.
He spreads your cheeks further apart before laying his tongue right on your clit. He didn’t need a second try to find the little bud and immediately started making small circles around it. Your whole body reacted to it and you let out a moan. His tongue caused shocks to go through your body. You knew he liked this reaction, because one of his hands began to squeeze your ass. The growls coming from his being were still filling the room, as if he is eating a caught pray.
Suddenly his tongue finds its way upwards, slowly licking all the juices off your pussy before settling on your entrance. He licks it a few times before entering it with his tongue. You let out a little yelp, eyes widening by the immense pleasure you are feeling. After that you began to moan loudly, loving the what it feels as he thrusts his tongue into you. Your body couldn’t help but to arch further into him. Your hands came up to your ass to widen it for him, but he was quick to pin them down beside you. The thrusts feel so good your orgasm was building up and Jungkook could feel your body heating up too. One hand came up to your asshole, and he put in just the tip of his thump, making your squirm under his care. You couldn’t help moaning out his name, making Jungkook pleased with his efforts.
It didn’t take you long to build up the orgasm and he soon got you to the edge. He notices your breathing beginning to become more irregular than it already was. His piercing eyes watch your body shake as you approach the edge and just when you were about to let it all out, he removed himself from your body. Feeling the loss of his stimulus on your entrance, you can’t help but whine. ‘Jungkooook...’, you sigh as your body collapses onto the bed. You can hear him chuckle before he lets his hand down on your ass with a great force, making you gasp by the sensation. ‘You know that this is still a punishment, right?’ he comments as he turns your body on your back, positioning himself between your legs again. You gasp upon seeing his naked body. He apparently had removed his clothing while you were nagging him. You can’t help yourself but to stare it his cock, which is standing tall and veiny between your thighs.
‘You like what you see, baby?’, Jungkook asks and you slowly nod with widened eyes. You are slowly beginning to doubt yourself upon seeing his enormous length, questioning if it will even fit. He towers over you before reaching his hand under your head. Grabbing a ball of hear in his hand, he yanks you to sit up right. You are now in eye-level with his cock, Jungkook now on his knees in front of you. You can feel your mouth watering as you imagine sucking your mate dry, pleasing him the way you should.
‘Why don’t you suck me off princess?’, he purrs while stroking your head, having loosened the grip. You look up to him, making the biggest innocent face you can make before your hand makes its way up Jungkook’s thigh. He immediately let a sigh escape his lips, eyes closing as he prepares for your amazing touches. You tease him a little bit, letting your hand swirl around his pelvis and inner thighs. A low threatening grunt leaves his body, signalling you the teasing is over and it is time for you to give your mate the pleasure he deserves. You put your hand around his cock as you lick small circles around his tip. The small action is enough to make him groan and grab your hair in his hands again. You notice his breathing picking up a pace as you swirl around a few times more. Then you take the tip of his dick in your mouth, still containing eye contact. Jungkook’s blue eyes almost seem pitch dark as they are now dilated to the max. You can feel your own body heating up as well by seeing how aroused he is for you.
‘Fuck, you look so innocent around my cock. Such a small mouth’, he comments with a low and sexy voice. With that encouragement, you let his dick slip further into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, signalling you that you are doing a great job. You bob your head forwards and backwards in a slow pace, building up his orgasm for him. He let’s out little moans upon feeling your pace going faster and faster. Eventually he couldn’t help himself but to guide your mouth over his dick, forcing you to suck him a bit further into your throat. You didn’t mind at all and let him abuse your mouth. You hold on to his legs as he takes over your pace and lets you gag on his dick. His grunts became very loud as he slams into you, giving you small times to breathe. You couldn’t care less, you are meant to let him do this to you. You are his little bitch in bed.
‘Fuck y/n, you are so fucking amazing. My little whore’, Jungkook breathes out before giving one last deep push into your throat, making you lose air for a few seconds before pulling out.
You both have to catch your breath. You collap back on the bed, trying to calm down your heart, but you didn’t have much time since Jungkook was already between your legs. He smirks down at your fucked out head as he hangs your legs over his shoulders. You feel him aligning his dick with your entrance, but you feel a bit scared it will hurt. Jungkook notices the change of atmosphere and cocks his head to the side, looking at your questionably.
‘What if it will hurt?’ You ask. Jungkook smiles at you as and comes down to your forehead, giving you a little kiss. ‘Don’t worry baby, I will give you time if it hurts. Just tell me if it hurts too much okay?’, he asks and you nod your head. He goes back up and secures your legs on his shoulders. He puts his dick on your pussy, sliding it up and down your juices as he teases your clit a little. You slip a moan because of the arousing feeling. Then he aligns his dick with your entrance, giving you a reassuring look before slowly pushing into you. It takes a while before your body lets even his tip inside, but with many patients your entrance widened to his size. He pushes slow and steady before giving a last thrust, now being fully inside you. You hadn’t made any noise as you tried to not focus on the immense pain of his big cock. Your eyes were closed tightly, but you suddenly felt a soft hand on your cheek. Two soft lips met yours, pulling you out of your pain and bringing your attention back to your mate. He kisses you slowly, tongue carefully massaging against yours while the pain leisurely disappeared. The kiss was turning hotter by the second, his hands finding its way into your hair while you cling on to his muscular torso. As your bodies began to squirm against each other, his dick caused friction within you and it made you moan into his mouth.
‘Can I move?’ Jungkook asks, looking into your eyes. You nod at him, making a thrusting motion yourself with a slight smile. He smiles back before sitting upright and holding your legs firmly against his shoulders. He slowly pulled back, making you gasp by the amazing friction you feel within you. He slams back into your pussy and you both moan loudly. ‘You’re so fucking tight, so fucking delicious’, Jungkook grunts as he repeats his actions. You dig your nails into the covers beside you as Jungkook begins to put up a pace. His hips slam into yours and when he angles his dick upwards, he finally hits your g-spot. You gasp before moaning his name, the feeling overwhelming you. Jungkook now slams with all his power into you, almost flying you up against the head of the bed. You can’t hold onto anything notices Jungkook, so he let your legs back down on the bed before grabbing your wrists and holding them in place beside your head. He now begins to slam into you with full speed, making you scream and burst into pleasure. He looks at your body bouncing along with him, your breasts swinging up and down as your eyes are closed. God, he will never forget this picture.
Your head begins to feel light by his hard thrusts, drowning you with love and pleasure. You look at his form on top of you, all sweaty and muscular. Those muscles now used to make you his mate, to give you his pups. His beautiful blue eyes are staring into yours, mouth half open as he pants through it. He is so beautiful and amazingly hot. You can feel your orgasm climbing up again as he continues rocking into you.
He suddenly pulls out, making you gasp by the lost of friction. He gets off the bed and pulls you with him. He leads you to the nearest wall, preps you up against it before aligning his dick with your entrance again. You stick your ass out as high as you can, but since Jungkook is a very tall man, you couldn’t reach his cock. He decided to wrap his arms around your middle and pulled you off the floor. He sets you down on his dick before pressing your bodies back against the wall. He starts railing you from behind, your body still hovering above the floor and upper body pressed again the wall. Jungkook does this with ease, being an amazingly strong alpha. You feel his dick sliding in and out of you, making you go crazy and wanting him to go faster. ‘Jungkook pleasee...’, you whine and Jungkook chuckles. He then goes even faster, making you see duble because of the immense pleasure emerging from his acts. You can’t help but to yell out his name, probably waking up the whole world by it.
‘Fuck you are my soulmate, look at you. You are perfect for me’, Jungkook groans into your ear as he feels his own height approaching. He decides to pull you back from the wall and lays you down on the floor. With your belly pressed against the wood, he pulls your ass back into the air and didn’t leave any time to enter your throbbing entrance. You can feel his balls hitting your pussy as he thrusts violently into you. His hand found your neck again and puts a slight pressure on it. With all the stimuli your mate is giving you, you find yourself near the edge of your orgasm again. Your breath began to become uneven and Jungkook noticing that, he decides on reaching down to your clit around your hips. He starts circling it fast, helping you to reach your height. You almost screamed upon feeling this, but you muffled yourself against the floor. Jungkook’s eyes were set on your trembling body, loving how aroused you can become under his touch. It took Jungkook only a few seconds before your height was reached and the warmth spread through your body. Your breath stopped for a second as you lost yourself in the overwhelming feeling. ‘Oh my god, fuck’, you cursed out as you let the orgasm wash through your body.
‘Good girl’, Junkook prases you as you finish. You let yourself lay there for a few seconds before you realize that Jungkook didn’t come yet. You pushed him off of you, making Jungkook a bit confused, before turning him on his back. You positioned yourself on him, sitting on his lap as you let your wet pussy slide on his dick. He sighed out of pleasure as he feels you dry humping him. His hands were quick to find your waist and took over. You didn’t give him any time for that, because you were fast to line him up with your entrance. You went down on him and started bouncing on top of him. This position allowed you to hit your g-spot very consistent and couldn’t help but to go faster. You let your hips rock up and down as Jungkook helped you by grabbing your waist. He moaned loudly while his eyes looked up into yours. You knew he is close to coming, so you go a bit faster for him. You want him to make you his mate, to imprint you.
‘I will shoot all my pups into you baby, so prepare yourself’, he warns you before he suddenly takes over the pace and thrusts up into you. You moan loudly by his action and Jungkook couldn’t help but to moan along with you. You were so beautiful on top of him and seeing all of this made him cum immediately. You can feel something inflating within you and you realized he was about to knot. You let him do the rest of the job as he groans loudly, making the last few thrusts before finally deloading all his cum into you. You can feel his pups shooting into you and you close your eyes by the amazing feeling.
You both stay located on the floor, panting and stuck because of the knot. You feel high from the combining smell of the both of you. Everything feels right, this was really meant to be. Jungkook’s hand slowly caresses your back, soothing you as the knot slowly deflates. You look up into his eyes, and he is already smiling at you. You smile back at him. You know exactly how he feels, because you feel the same.
‘You’re mine now’, Jungkook says proudly, hugging you closer to him. You smile. ‘I always was, I just didn’t know’. He sighs in delight, knowing he would spend the rest of his life with you in bliss. Your lives were meant to go this way, more than this wouldn’t be needed.
Thank you for reading! My reguests are open for those who have one :).
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New Beginnings // roommate!au
(a/n) I’m sorry @duskholland for coming up with these aus. the good thing about it is, that I have no self control so here it is, the New Girl!roommate!au :) i’m not gonna say it’s great, and also i’v seen like 5 episodes of the show maybe so it’s definitely my own take on the pilot. hope you like it.
word count: 6.3k
warning: swearing, sexual references (the first paragraph is as bad as it gets), dark humour and mentions of murder, sex trafficking - basically reasons why not to move in with strangers you meet off of craigslist. Please be safe and responsible. but it’s all just fluff and humour. Also, possibly some horrible writing cause i couldn’t bother editing this <3
“And when I walked into the bedroom I found him in there, completely naked, with some slut sucking his dick… so basically, that’s why I need a new apartment.” You looked around at the three men in front of you, realising you had zoned out a bit there while telling your story. “Sorry, what was the question?”
“Uhh,” the blonde one, which introduced himself as Harrison earlier, spoke, “Do you have any pets?”
“Oh,” well that was embarrassing, “No, I mean I had a schnauzer when I was younger and I always wanted to get another one but who am I kidding, nothing will ever live up to Mr Snuzzlekins.” For the love of God, shut up! “No, I don’t have any pets.” You felt your entire face heating up. Suddenly you became very aware of a strand of hair that was in front of your face so you pushed it behind your ear
“Mr Snuzzlekins?” The other one, Tom, laughed with a small smile.
“My sister named him,” you lied. You were already embarrassed as it was.
There was a moment of silence where no one knew what to say next, so you decided to break the tension. Awkwardly laughing, you said: “You know, the funny thing is, I didn’t expect you to be… guys.” That was true. When you had been searching through the Craigslist advertisements there had been a lot of applications for housing but you had ignored most of them because they sounded too much like human trafficking scams or some other creeps looking for a way to get a girl. You had particularly found interest in this apartment, not only because of the actual great (and safe looking) location of the building but also because you had thought that the ad was written by a woman. Not that you didn’t think a woman could murder you, but it did bring a bit more security to you to live with someone of your own gender.
Well, as you saw three men sitting in front of you, you had guessed that wrong. They did seem nice enough though. Handsome too. You really hoped they weren’t murderers. They wouldn’t do well in prison… also, your death. Not a favourable outcome in the slightest.
“Why’d you think that?” the third one asked. You had missed his name during the introduction round, but you already felt like you could be good friends with him. His boyish charms made you think he was younger than the other two, though he did have a very small resemblance to Tom. You found it cute how his curls bounced around when he moved his head.
“Well, the ad, it was phrased… very femini-ninely...” That was definitely too many syllables. Could this interview go any worse? No, probably not. But the guys didn’t seem to mind your momentary idiocy.
“Oh, yeah, we had our mum write it for us.” Tom explained, sitting a bit more straight up, “We had been trying to find someone else to live with us ever since our friend Tuwaine moved out, but we kind of suck at advertising ourselves, so yeah-”
“Oh, well that makes sense, yeah.” Their mum wrote it. So they were a family. Brothers? Yeah probably. You didn’t really see how the Harrison guy fit into that since he didn’t look anything like the other two. Shattering blue eyes instead of the warm hazel. Dark blonde hair instead of the reddish-brown. All three had magnificent bone structure that you had to admit, but not in the same way.
“So, what do you guys do?” you decided to ask.
“We’re actors,” Harrison said, pointing at himself and Tom. Since you had no heart palpitating reaction when you first saw them, you could probably safely assume that they were still trying to find their break out role. Harrison pointed at the third of their addition before continuing. “Harry is more of a behind the scenes man, photography and directing, that kind of stuff.”
“That’s… interesting.” You smiled. Were you about to move in with three wannabes? If you were, would it be inevitable that you’d end up paying the rent for all of them because they wouldn’t be able to find gigs? That was a bit harsh. Besides, you could always look for a new place before that happened and move out. And who even said that you could move in, in the first place? “Anything I might have seen you guys in? Or some of your work?” You directed the additional question to...Harry.
Harry. Harrison. Try to remember that.
“I’ve had a few roles on the West End, nothing big yet but once I have a role, it’s at least steady for a bit, you know,” Tom said.
“I’ve mostly been doing headshots for people, so I doubt you’d have seen anything I’ve done.” Harry said. You nodded to his statement.
“And Harrison has been signed with this fashion designer. You might have seen some ads around town.” Modelling. Not another model to live with. You tried not to let your smile fade.
“No, sorry, I don’t think I have. But I’ll be on the lookout.” The grin you put up actually reached your eyes genuinely.
“So what about you?” Harrison was the one to ask, not noticing any change in your demeanour. “What is it that you do?”
“I’m a teacher. I know, not very glamorous or anything- and I might sometimes come home with an abundance of ice-lolly sticks- but it’s good fun and it pays well.” You looked around some more around the apartment. As you focused on the spacious living room of the loft, you wondered how these guys could afford it. Were their rich parents paying for it? Was there secretly asbestos in the walls, making rent not even a problem? Were they going to kill you?
It was a really nice flat. With exposed brick walls and wooden beams at the ceiling, which the guys used cleverly to hang their houseplants from. Even with the large space and the big windows covering the outer walls of the room, it felt very homey. Comfortable.
“I’m sure you already know, but it’s a really great place you guys got.” Compliments always worked, so that was your way to go to ensure you had a roof over your head soon. Feeling a bit more comfortable now, you decided to get up to walk a bit around the room. The reason for that specific action was unknown to you, but you did it.
It had been the first day since your breakup that you had actually made an effort in looking presentable. Hair washed and brushed, you had clothes on that had zero Cheeto dust on it. Of course, since these were guys it probably didn’t even matter to them what you looked like but when you still thought you might be living with other women, you were terrified of being denied because of how you looked or something. That could still happen, but they just didn’t seem like the shallow type. And they had seemed really surprised when you appeared at their front door, as if they didn’t expect a girl to show up either.
All three of them turned their heads as you walked around, following you with their eyes. It was a mix of curiosity and the same fear that you saw in people on competition shows, when they were waiting for the judges’ critique.
You looked out the window to see the view. It was a lovely lookout on the city.
“How come your roommate moved out?” Was it your place to ask? You had no idea. They didn’t seem to mind the question, though.
“He moved in with his girlfriend instead.” Harry was the one to answer. A heart wrenching feeling fell over you. You didn’t know this Tuwaine, or his girlfriend, but a sudden wave of hatred towards them and their happiness overwhelmed you. Why did everyone have to be all happy and in love? It was disgusting. You were sick of it.
“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind living here.” Somehow you managed to speak out without showing any of your feelings through it. You allowed yourself to walk around to the kitchen island. It was recycled wood with a dark varnish on top, making the light from outside shine on it. You could almost see yourself reflecting in it. Were they this clean or had they no idea how to cook?
“Don’t get me wrong, you seem great, but we don’t really know anything about you yet.” Tom got up and walked up to you. The other two followed his steps. You were now standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island, making you feel as if you were a bartender ready to take their orders.
“There really isn’t much more to tell. I mean, I did just go through a break up, so emotions are uhm… out there. I might be spending the next few weeks watching horrible Hallmark movies, like 4 or 5… a day.” You saw the disgust on Harry’s face and quickly made an attempt at recovery. “But I can do that on my laptop and headphones, so ya know, I’ll be quiet. I’ll be in my room the entire time too, probably, so you might not even notice I’m here.” You tried to sell yourself as un-pathetically as possible. It had come to desperate measures in desperate times. Because, what your (possible) new roommates didn’t know, was that you had already spent the last four weeks looking for a new place, and while there was no luck in that, you had to do with sleeping on the tiny couch of your best friend.
As if he could actually read your mind, Harrison’s next question was: “So, where have you been living the last few days then? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all,” you said, finding large interest in the pattern of the stained wood. Not looking up at the three men, “I’ve been living with my best friend. She’s great but I just don’t think I'm suited for the life she and her supermodel friends have-” Why did you mention the models? Your eyes shot up to Harrison’s. But it was Harry’s and Tom’s that were wide.
“Supermodels?” Tom coughed out. You nodded, having leaned in with your elbows on the table, looking rather unimpressed. The way Tom’s hands grabbed for the sleeves of his roommates did not go unnoticed by you. Before you could say anything, he excused himself and the others and they had disappeared into the corridor. Earlier on they had told you that was the way to the bathroom. They were trying to whisper, but weren’t doing a great job at it. You could hear every word perfectly well.
“What are we thinking, guys?” Tom said, closing the door behind him. When he turned around, Harrison and his brother were rubbing their arms, on the spots where Tom had been a bit too rough on his grip. Harry sat down on the edge of the bathtub, while Harrison decided to remain standing,eventually leaning against the tiled wall. There was a bright light in the small bathroom, but the vintage green tiles made it all look much darker.
“She seems nice.” Harrison spoke up finally. “But I don’t know, she’s obviously a… she. Won’t that be weird?”
“What do you think, Tom?” Harry asked his older brother, who, even though had been the one to pull them into the bathroom, had not planned on saying much. “You’re the one with experience in living with a woman. So try to cancel out those supermodels for a sec.”
“I don’t know,” Tom bit the inside of his cheek. Before he had moved in with his brother and best friend, he had been living with his then girlfriend, Stacey. They had been together for a while until she had decided that maybe, this wasn’t meant to be after all. Unlike you, though, the apartment had been in his name so he had a place to stay, but he just couldn’t get himself to live alone in a place that was intended on being lived in by two people. So, he moved out.
“I mean… every girl is different, so I can’t say shit.”
“I’m really not that bad!” you shouted from the other side of the door, immediately hiding your mouth behind your hands. Now they knew you were listening to their private conversation. The bathroom door opened and Tom’s head popped out. He saw you sitting on the couch.
“Could you- could you hear all of that?” he pointed back into the bathroom. You nodded, still covering your mouth, scared you would say something else embarrassing. But the guys seemed to be just as abashed. One by one they walked out and came to sit on their basically appointed seats on the sofa. Did they have their own claimed seats? Would you need to be prepared to only sit in one spot of the room forever? Shit, they had all the seats with the window view…
“So,” Harry said, “when you said supermodels-” but he never got to finish his sentence because Harrison slapped him across the back of his head. You suppressed a small laugh. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom, who reciprocated the expression. This, in turn, was missed by you. You only looked in his direction a second later, when the smile had slightly faded already.
“Thanks for saying that whole ‘every girl is different’ thing. Not saying I can’t cook… even if that is going along with the stereotype, but I wouldn’t exactly want to be accepted to live here as a nanny… not that I think you guys can’t take care of yourselves! I mean just look at-” you eyes wandered around them just for a second before coming back on the right track. “- at the apartment. What I mean is- uhh.”
“Guys are dicks?” Harrison suggested.
“Yes! No! No, of course not, well some. But I don’t think you guys are. You seem really nice. I’ve just had… experiences with living with other types of guys and that really was not the planned outcome now that I think about it and I don’t know why I can’t shut up now because I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”
“Is this Spencer that we’re talking about here?” Tom asked and your eyes shot to his direction, shocking even him. The name had become somewhat of a trigger for you in the last few days. At the last moment, you realised you had actually mentioned his name yourself to them during your introductory story, so that spared you a good bit of humiliation there. You decided to keep quiet. You all did. Great, because this day had not gone awkward enough. Maybe you could sink into the surface of the ground and die there? Then there would be no more reason to find any living space. It would all be over. Yeah, that really didn’t sound too bad even.
“So, do you wanna see your room?” Harrison broke the silence and his words surprised everyone, even him. You took longer than it should have to comprehend what he had just suggested.
“What? Uhh, yes! Yes! Oh my god, that would be fantastic. Thank you.”
“Great,” Harrison clapped his hands on his thighs before getting up. Then he extended one of those hands to you. He led you to the corridor opposite the bathroom, the third door on the left. The door had some scraped paint residue on it and you could see a poor attempt was made at pulling off the scotch tape that held up posters on it or something? It opened up to a room. It wasn’t big or small. The wall color was a nice beige, a bit of a sandy, almost peachy color. You could definitely work with it.
The guys let you take it in, but also took that moment to give each other death glares, most of them directed at Harrison.
“What exactly were you thinking?” Tom asked him, this time properly whispering. For extra measure he extended his neck to look into the hallway to see if you were walking out of the room again.
“Actually, I was thinking about how you had showed up at my door at 2 am when Stacey dumped you.”
“She didn’t dump me. No one was dumped.” Tom denied like always.
“No, you were definitely dumped, mate.” Harry said, not even making an attempt at hiding the amusement in his voice.
“Anyway,” Harrison ignored the interaction between brothers, “I thought of you and how miserable you were then. She’s probably going through that same thing.” If not worse, he wanted to add, but he also didn’t want to edge Tom’s ego any further. “So, let’s give her a chance.”
Tom still didn’t seem to be entirely sure. He raised his eyebrow, thinking. He looked once more at the corridor, expecting you to walk out any moment, but you still were in the room. What were you even doing there? The place was entirely empty.
“Fine,” he gave in, “but if she turns out to be completely psychotic, you’re kicking her out, Haz.” He immediately noticed the wince in Harry’s face. Had he mistimed his words?
Yes, he had, because you were standing right behind him now. The sight of you made his heart stop for a good second as he went pale.
“Fucking Christ,” Tom gasped, “if you live here, you’re getting a bell. None of that sneaking around.”
“Are we talking service, hand, cow, or the kinky cat collar type?” you smirked, knowing you had gotten him completely flustered at your joke. While Harrison and Harry burst out in laughter, Tom didn’t move a muscle. His cheeks and neck, however, had started to turn a lovely rosy colour. He opened his mouth a bit, just to close it up again as he changed his mind.
While you had told them that you would be spending your days crying into a pint of ice cream while watching movies, reality was much more different from that. It was true that you barely left your room, but that was because you were too busy unpacking all your things out and setting up your room. The guys were nice enough to help you bring up the furniture sets and the boxes, which had been lovingly left at the curb of the building by the people from the moving company.
That ordeal had taken up most of Saturday. Your first task was to set up the bed, which Harrison helped you with. You tried to tell him that you didn’t need help, but your words were futile the second you almost dropped a wooden plank on yourself. The flatpacks were easy enough to understand, and unlike what you had done there, you weren’t the worst when it came to building, so all the furniture was set up by the end of Sunday. It meant that you could spend the rest of the week opening boxes and making your room really yours.
But Monday also meant work, so you only had the afternoons and nights to do it. Together with the fact that you had to leave early for work, meant that the guys really barely saw you. The only sign of your presence would be the music you were playing from your room while doing the unpacking.
It was the fourth hour of your One Direction sing-a-long that Tom walked into the living room. Harrison popped his head up from his book to look at his friend. He did not look happy.
“Dude,” he said. The one word already evoked all that Tom wanted to say, but Harrison loved to annoy him.
“What?” he opened up his book again, pretending not to really pay any attention to Tom. This was made harder when Tom sat down next to him.
“If I hear What Makes You Beautiful one more fucking time-”
“Then what?” Harrison still kept his eyes on the words on the pages, not taking in a single word.
“You have to do something. I can’t take it.”
“Why do I have to do something?” Harrison closed his book with his finger still between the pages and looked at Tom, just in time to see him narrow his eyes in annoyance.
“Really? So do you wanna see your room y/n?!” His voice turned higher as he mocked Harrison’s words, following it up by a gagging sound. “You’re the one that got us here. Now, go solve it.”
“I really don’t mind it. If you’re so bothered, go talk to her yourself.” And with that, Harrison went back to his book. This time actually reading the words. It was enough for Tom to know that the conversation was over. He didn’t even try to argue. He gave Harrison one more glare and got up. While walking to your room, he noticed that Harry had actually been in the kitchen this whole time, listening in on their conversation. He tried to give his little brother a look, hoping for support, but he didn’t get any of that. Harry disappeared behind the doors of a cupboard and Tom went into the corridor, still rolling his eyes.
When he reached your door, he couldn’t hear you singing anymore. It was just One Direction coming from the speakers. Now, he enjoyed the lads just as much as the next guy, but after a while he just needed it to stop. And coming in in five hours was definitely a while.
He knocked on the door. There was a sound that resembled you. A bit of a murmur that formed no particular word. It didn’t sound like a denial though, so slowly, in case you didn't want him to come in, he opened the door.
You were quick in decorating the room. Only a few days ago it was still empty and a bit cold looking, now the walls were covered with posters and pictures. You had used one entire wall just for your bookcase. There didn’t seem to be an order on the shelves just yet, but you left that for the last thing to do since the rest of the room seemed a bit more important at the moment.
The bed was unmade, with several pillows thrown about over it. Behind it the headboard, which simultaneously served as a shelf. Stuffed animals and a few more books were strewn about. Overhead were fairy lights, matching the ones on the doorframe and on the bookcase. Together with the lamp that was on the desk, it was the only light in the room. Since it was dark, it gave the room a warm and cozy atmosphere.
But the first thing that Tom noticed when he walked into the room was the smell. Coconut? It wasn’t overwhelming, just strong enough to be pleasantly surprising and noticeable.
You were standing on a small step ladder, which you usually used to reach the upper shelf of your bookcase (high walls gave the opportunity for more shelves, which you could never say no to). You were in the middle of hanging up a picture on the wall as the song from your speaker continued.
Can we take the same road, two days in the same clothes-
You were holding on to the frame with both hands, trying to centre it on the nail in the wall, but every time you pulled away, the frame would slant to the side.
And I know just what she’ll say if I can make all this pain go-
Tom saw you get fed up with the picture, throwing it on the bed with a groan. That’s when you looked up at him. The dim and soft light was shining just at the angle that when he looked at you, he could see the tear streaks down your face. You had definitely been crying. You were still sniffling a bit when you stepped down to the floor.
“Am I too loud? Sorry.” you immediately reached out to your phone, which was connected to the speaker, and pressed down the volume. Then you decided to just turn it off completely. Maybe you’ve had enough of it for now.
“Uhh, a bit, but it’s fine. We like 1D here, so.” Tom suddenly felt like a real dick when he saw the small, apologetic, smile you gave him. You were holding the speaker in your hands as you sat on the bed, staring at it, a bit lost, and Tom wasn’t sure if he was supposed to leave or not.
“Are you okay?” he asked. You had clearly forgotten he was still there, because you looked up looking a bit frazzled.
“No.” You said honestly. What would be the point in pretending? You couldn’t fool anyone even if you tried. Misery was the only thing feeling your once Spencer-filled void. Ugh, the sound of his name, even just in your thoughts, made you want to scream. Unconsciously, and a bit to Tom’s amusement, you had grabbed one of your pillows and started to hit your fist right in the middle of it. Your hits were getting harder and rougher.
“Ever considered boxing?” He brought you out of your haze. You looked down at the pillow, seeing the sad looking indent on the kitten-patterned pillow. Tom took the pillow away from you and fluffed it out to its normal shape before putting it back.
“It’s just been hard, you know,” you said, more to yourself than to him and Tom understood that. He knew what you meant. He had been in that same position not too long ago and seeing you like this did definitely bring back some of those feelings he had tried to suppress back then.
“Like, I thought he was the one. And I know it sounds so stupid, I don’t even believe in that whole soulmate crap, but he was it for me. For the first time, I could actually imagine myself enduring nine months of hell to have a kid with him, sorry if I’m being TMI.”
“You’re good,” he said. He also understood that feeling. Maybe not in the exact, child bearing way, but he could resonate with that whole it thing. He had felt the same way about Stacey. He had never told anyone this, and was never planning on telling anyone, but the day before they broke up, he had been out in the city looking for an engagement ring. It had come unplanned. He wasn’t thinking yet about actually proposing. But he had been in town for an audition and on his way home he saw the jeweller. It was the first time he had ever thought of it, and it seemed right, so he walked in and just looked around.
“You must think I’m so pathetic though. Crying for weeks about some douchebag.”
“Well, you’ve only lived here for five days, so I wouldn’t know about that.” He smirked. You groaned again and fell with your head on a big fluffy pillow.
“But no,” he said eventually, “I don’t think you’re pathetic.”
Another week had gone by and your mother had somehow found out about your new living arrangement. So, the last 20 minutes you had been sitting on the couch, listening to her yelling.
“No mum, I’m fine.” you said, for what felt like the 50th time. Right at that moment, Harry showed up in the living room, making his way from a shower to his bedroom, only a towel around his waist. His usually curly hair was a wet mop, covering most of his face.
“You don’t even know them!” your mother shrieked.
“Harry, are you going to murder me?” you asked as he walked by, covering the microphone of your phone. Without missing a beat, or looking down at you, he answered with a snappy “Yup,” and walked into his own room.
“They’re really nice guys, mum.” You told her. It took you another ten minutes to convince her not to come over tomorrow (or ever, in general). The conversation had taken an abrupt turn when suddenly, she invited you to a video call. Knowing that if you didn’t answer it, you would never hear the end of it, you accepted the call. Your mothers face, or better said, forehead, showed up on screen. You tried to cover your chin as best as you could with the collar of your sweater since you were too tired to hold up your phone at a reasonable angle.
“Hi mom,” you sighed.
“Where are they?!” she said, looking around as if she could actually see more than what your camera showed. You were going to lie that they had gone out, but right at that second Harry walked out of his room. Thankfully he was dressed, but his hair was still a bit wet. His shoulder was just visible in the corner of your screen and you tried to move to the side, but your mother had noticed him already.
“Who’s that?” Why did your mother always have to be so loud?
“Uhh, that’s Harry.”
He looked up at the mention of his name. You were scared that it would make him uncomfortable if you talked about him to your mom, it was making you uncomfortable for sure, but instead he jumped up at the opportunity and the next second he was leaning on the couch, almost over you, and smiling at your phone.
“Hi.” He waved to your mother. His quick movements made his hair move around, giving you a nice first row experience of the fountain show coming from it. You wiped the water off your face.
“What’s your name again?” Your mother asked.
“Harry, Ma’am. Harry Holland.” He said with a smile. You both knew that when your mother had asked him his name, she meant his full name. She wouldn’t be able to make any deep research, but it was in case you suddenly went missing, of course.
“How old are you?” your mother went on with the third degree, glaring at your roommate at each question. Harry answered it all with a big and charming smile. You held the camera, hoping the couch could eat you already. This could not get any more embarrassing, could it?
Oh, it could. Because half way through, your sister had shown up and sat down next to your mom. She didn’t say anything, but suddenly a text notification popped up on the top of your screen.
Who’s the hot guy?
Your sister was not imbecile, yet she loved to act like it. Of course, Harry saw the text and erupted in a loud laugh, startling your poor mother. As the timer on the call was reaching 30 minutes you decided to say your goodbyes and end the conversation. Harry was still laughing.
“So… you’re sister…” he said once calming down.
“Don’t even think about it. She’s 17.” you glared at him and he immediately shut up, which you appreciated.
“Well, your mom seems nice,” he eventually said. You knew he didn’t mean it in that way, but in the context of your previous exchange, it didn’t sound great. Now you were the one laughing.
“That is not what I meant!” he shouted out, grabbing a throw pillow and hitting you on the arm with it lightly.
“Jesus, calm down. I know.” You grabbed the pillow from him. You were both in a fit of giggles by then. It took a moment to catch a breath and by that point, your head was actually hurting.
“So do you think I’m hot?” Harry asked, raising his brow like the cheeky fuck he is. You just rolled your eyes and hit him with that same pillow. Maybe a bit too hard, because it knocked him off balance and when you looked up, he was no longer leaning on the backrest of the sofa.
Something you had to learn the hard way when it came to living with the guys was that you had to lock your doors. They weren’t doing it on purpose, but they had a tendency to forget to knock when walking into the bathroom, or even your bedroom. Specifically, Harrison.
Usually, you’d consider him to be the more logical of the three, but that didn’t really mean that much. He was just as much of an idiot as the two Holland brothers at times.
The bathroom incident had happened during your first week of living with the boys. You were taking a shower. The loud water had cancelled out the sound of the door opening so you didn’t know that while you were washing your hair, Harrison had walked into the bathroom.
In his defence, he thought it was Tom showering, not you.
You had not been made aware yet of the honourable fifth member of the household: a life size Nicolas Cage cardboard cut-out. So, when you pushed the shower curtain aside, and were met eye to eye with Nick Cage himself, you screamed bloody murder, almost falling in the bathtub. The door opened to horrified Harrison, realising his mistake. He realised it as soon as he heard the screams, which clearly did not belong to Tom.
But another scream followed, which was shorter and more specific, followed by a “Fuck!” made him feel like something else had happened. It sounded like you had gotten hurt. So, obviously, he walked in to see if you were alright.
You were, in fact, alright, and seeing him standing there, eyes wide as he saw your naked body, you screamed again for him to get out. He took a second to grab Nick and pull him out of the room, mumbling a few sorrys, and closed the door behind him.
Flushed, slightly angry, and with a pounding heart, you dried off and got dressed. Unlike the guys, you were never one to parade half naked around the house on your way from the bathroom to your bedroom.
You walked out, a pile of old clothes in your hands, to see Harrison. He looked like a puppy that might be about to be smacked with a newspaper on his nose. Usually you were very much against that disciplinary practice, but Harrison was no puppy, and you had been scared shitless.
“y/n, I’m so sorry.” he apologised as he followed you to your room. You were telling him that it was alright, and actually quite funny, but he really wanted you to know that it was an accident and that he didn’t mean to scare you like that or walk in on you naked or linger his eyes on you for that long.
“Seriously, Haz, it’s fine. Shit happens… just, don’t walk into the bathroom anymore when I shower. Or ever actually, if I’m in there, don’t.”
“Yeah, of course.”
And he kept to the promise. You didn’t get any other sudden visits in the bathroom, but it was not the last time that Harrison saw you naked.
You were all going out to a bar one night, and a bit shamefully, you were taking a bit longer than usual with getting ready. The guys had been waiting for a while already, and you were trying to hurry up, but you just had no idea what to wear. Finally you had found yourself a dress that might make you get a bit lucky that night. You weren’t even planning on hooking up, but the attention was appreciated. In your, still not exactly over your break-up situation, it was actually needed.
In the meantime, the guys were deciding which one of them had to go and tell you to hurry up. It was getting late and they needed their time to get completely smashed. And while waiting for you, getting knock out drunk was definitely not happening.
Harrison drew the figurative short straw. He thought you were doing your make-up or something, being aware how much time that can take sometimes. He never imagined opening the door and seeing you standing in the middle of your room, only in a pair of panties. You didn’t see him at first because your dress was over your head as you tried to pull it on. Harrison closed the door before you saw anything. But you could hear the thud of the door closing.
You pulled the dress over your body, grabbed a pair of matching heels and put them on as you got out of your room. There you saw Harrison. His red cheeks indicated that he was the one who had walked into your room. Tom and Harry were standing at the door. They could see you walk out and their eyes had gone a bit wide. Clearly, the dress was serving its purpose.
Having already gone through this whole embarrassing scenario already, you decided to spare Harrison. You have him a soft smile.
“Could you help me zip up?” you asked, turning your back and pushing the hair away from the zipper.
“Uhh, yeah, yeah, of course.” He was so flustered. It was actually adorable. You could feel his hands on you as he grabbed the two sides of the dress and the zipper and slowly, carefully, pulled it up.
“Thank you,” you said when he was done. He didn’t respond, his face still as red as a stop light. And it didn’t get any better when you kissed him on the cheek.
It was definitely interesting to be living with them, but you couldn’t complain about a single thing… except for the laundry, maybe.
> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed
> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)
>masterlist and link to taglist in bio
@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @spiderrrling @lonelyavenger @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what-a-beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions-archive @fallinfortom @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @rxsydreams @musicalkey @joyleenl @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014 @marvelouspeterparker @siriuslyslyslytherinyes @lunalovegoodsgirlfriendyes @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @quinjetboi @sheranatic111 @zspideyy @lizzyosterfield @dahliasbroken @parkerlovebot @itstaskeen @sarcasticallywitty15 @sluttytears @lilhoodhippie @theliterarymess @marlenetough @tomsirishgirlx @hiiii-i @wonderfulfluffer @dumbledorrs @hollandstea @roseke @outshineallthestars @spideyspeaches @ieatchildrenfordessert
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white winter hymnal
originally posted: december 14, 2020
fandom: Youtube RPF
desc: “december in new york city is a spectacle of unmatched levels — times square becomes a glittering winter wonderland almost overnight, the fire escapes and frosted windows dotting the large-scale buildings of the boroughs slowly begin to ooze a festive glow, and the scent of pine and cinnamon fills the confines of your brick-and-mortar bay ridge apartment that resides along the belt parkway ... the charm and principle of the thing is quickly broken, however, when you wake to your roommate’s vicious shouts from his office, his two-toned rasp traveling straight through the walls like a bullet.”
tags: Christmas Fluff | Christmas Decorations | Roommates | Friends to Lovers | Vinyls and Slowdancing | First Kiss | Go watch Schlatt’s cereal video and this’ll make more sense | Swearing | (Obviously it’s Schlatt we’re talking about here) | Reader is not a Brooklyn native | Nostalgia
word count: 2.4k
the original can be read HERE, on AO3
a/n: found out that schlatt’s name is apparently john?? so that’s why he goes by that in this instead of james lol // also he goes by an irl name because,, well,, they were roommates [oh my god they were roommates]
“how mad would you be if i kissed you?”
“horribly,” you murmur. “do it anyway.”
december in new york city is a spectacle of unmatched levels — times square becomes a glittering winter wonderland almost overnight, the fire escapes and frosted windows dotting the large-scale buildings of the boroughs slowly begin to ooze a festive glow, and the scent of pine and cinnamon fills the confines of your brick-and-mortar bay ridge apartment that resides along the belt parkway — and it makes it hard for you to miss home. you’d moved in with john just a few months after you’d said goodbye to everyone and everything you’d ever known in your home state, kicking off the cliff dive into adulthood by traveling umpteen hours to a strange borough inhabited by even stranger souls. and, even though you usually ached to return to your roots this time of year, some unknown force kept your wandering heart in place.
the charm and principle of the thing is quickly broken, however, when you wake to your roommate’s vicious shouts from his office, his two-toned rasp traveling straight through the walls like a bullet. bleary eyes scan over an alarm clock — mockingly reading 3:59am in neon red pixels — and you begrudgingly escape from the warm confines of your blanket cocoon.
snow falls heavily outside of your window, thickly blanketing the wrought-iron of your beloved fire escape. the serenity brings a wash of irony over your half-asleep state, and you can’t help the soft chuckle that rumbles in your chest. moving through the room, you wrap yourself in an oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his laundry, fuzzy pajama pants, and your favorite raccoon slippers a content creator had gifted you a few years back. the handle of your bedroom door is lukewarm at best when you slip from your room, feet shuffling across the dark wood floor. the shouts somehow gain volume as you draw closer to his office, and you snort as you hear a cardboard box launch across the room, laughing harder as his panicked shouts travel across the room with it. you rap your knuckles against the door, waiting for him to open it.
he does. “y/n?”
“done with recording at four in the morning, huh?” you tease, sleep still thick in your voice. “at least tell me what the hell you’re working on that requires…” you hesitate, peering around the gangly form of your halfwit roommate. “ cereal ... being spread like pigeon feed across your office.”
“well, ah, i’m filming a video where i rate cereal.”
“and you’re making this big of a commotion?”
he smiles gently. “after all this time, you’re still not used to me?”
“you’re my roommate, john, not my boyfriend. i shouldn’t have to be used to anything.”
he clutches at his chest with the hand not holding both a box of wheaties and his gold-plated subscriber plaque, a look of faux hurt on his face.
“not even gonna give me a chance, are ya?”
“you’ve proven over the last two years that i definitely shouldn’t,” you retort, slipping into his office. “and i hope to god you plan on cleaning this up at some point.”
“yes, dear, i do,” he quips. “i’ll do it after i finish filming.”
“are you done with the lucky charms?”
“yep. do you want them?”
you laugh. “always. gimme.”
he laughs, passing you the box before settling back into his cobbled together desk chair. you close the door behind you, chest bubbling with laughter when his wild voice rumbles through the walls once more.
following the familiar path to the kitchen from his office, you flip the switch on the power strip, lighting the kitchen with a warm fairy light glow and bringing the kettle to life. leaving the cereal box on the scuffed granite counter, you busy the kettle with making two cups of instant coffee — one with a teaspoon of sugar and no creamer for john, and one with more sugar and creamer than coffee for you — and turn back to the lucky charms. cereal tumbles into the faded ceramic bowl first, followed by a shallow pool of milk. your ears perk up when the shouts come to an end, followed by the office door opening and closing down the hall. socked feet pad down the hallway, delivering a now weary and messy-haired john into the small kitchen.
“my hero,” he murmurs, voice raspy from the constant strain of his bullshit brand of comedy. “how do you manage to make instant coffee good?”
“it's a combination of you being sleep deprived, picky about how you like your coffee made, and how needy you are for caffeine.”
he hums, sipping on the still-hot brew. “this is true. i might buy a keurig soon though.”
“and ruin the tradition of us drinking shitty coffee at four in the morning?”
“shit, you’re right, i can't ruin tradition,” he snorts. “plus i might become too much of a lush if i finally cave.”
you point at him with the business end of your spoon, milk dripping from the end. “as if you aren't one already, mr. ‘i bought a shit ton of cereal for one video’.”
“listen, y/n, that was science happening in there,” he retorts. “i’m doing important experiments.”
“was the name of this one ‘how many boxes of cereal do i need to throw around my office before i wake up my roommate’?”
he laughs, voice layered with hints of exhaustion. he takes another sip, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen. blissful silence seeps across the room, boxed in by the hum of the radiator and the wall of snow still tumbling down outside the frosted windowpanes. you let your mind wander as the rare quiet stretches on, thoughts of past christmases swirling in your head. your mind catches on a specific memory of mistletoe and one too many beers, and you can almost relive the moment when —
you turn to him, your train of thought abruptly derailed. “what are you thinking in that head of yours?”
“i’m thinking... we should put up the christmas decorations.”
“john…” you trail off. “i think you need to go to bed.”
“no no, c’mon, hear me out,” he pleads. “it’ll be so nice to watch the sun come up while decorating. i promise we can go to bed right after.”
you debate it for a moment — relinquish precious hours of cozy winter sleep, just to stay up with your delirious roommate to decorate, which you absolutely could do several hours later? — and make your decision.
“yeah, yeah, fine. but you have to get the boxes out of the closet.”
he grins a genuine thousand kilowatt smile, all pearly teeth and crinkled eyes, and runs to the storage closet. a cacophonous tumble of noises follows soon after, accompanied by the sound of stray strands of christmas lights skittering across the floor. the brunet darts back and forth from the living room to the storage closet, his manic rush coming to a halt once he drags a tied up christmas tree into the living room.
you blink. “motherfucker… you… how fucking long have you had that real christmas tree in our apartment? and why the hell have i not noticed it?!”
“i bought it when you were running errands in manhattan,” he states. “it was a bitch to get up here, though.”
you sit down on the couch, dumbfounded. “you’re fucking insane.”
“i am invested in christmas.”
you shake your head, watching as he pulls the tree skirt and stand from one of the many boxes. planting said combination in front of the living room windows, he settles the tree into the holder, pulls a knife from god knows where, and frees the tree from its netting — only to send a torrential downpour of pine needles onto the blue-grey carpet.
john looks at the tree in utter desolation, eyebrows raised in a combination of disbelief and disappointment. giggles travel subtly over your frame, cheeks turning red from withholding your amusement when his temper begins to flare.
“i’m sorry? ” he barks suddenly, making you snort. “what the fuck?”
“dude... what did you expect? it's a live tree you’ve had sitting in — most likely — your office closet, and you expected it to not make a mess?”
he pauses for a moment. you think he's done with the bit, and then —
“this motherfucker comes into my home,” he starts again, oblivious to your building laughter. “and shits his little needles all over my fucking carpet! this is the payment for me showing basic sympathy and allowing him to reside here for the winter! i cannot believe the absolutely planetoid-sized balls this shitty little tree has under its ever falling curtain of fucking NEEDLES! ”
you can barely speak with a straight tone. “john, please, go easy -”
“go easy on this coniferous cretin who has made a mockery of my living room? blasphemy, y/n, really.”
you howl with laughter after that line, all sense of control flying out the third story window of your shared apartment. john slumps onto the couch, caramel eyes staring forlornly at the mess strewn wildly around the culprit.
“i told you, we should’ve just gone with a fake tree.”
“but the christmas spirit chokes on those things!”
“are you… are you insinuating the christmas spirit eats christmas trees?”
john looks delirious. “is that how that sounded?”
“oh my god, we both need to go to bed.”
“i think we just need to power through this.”
and so the two of you do; taking turns winding strands of multicolored lights and pinning glittery ornaments onto the ever-shedding tree, hanging stockings to the fake fireplace’s mantle, and throwing random bits of tinsel around the rest of the apartment. john disappears into his office for a moment, allowing you to sneak his neatly wrapped christmas presents under the christmas tree — two vintage sweatshirts you stumbled upon while drunk-scrolling ebay at three in the morning, his favorite cologne, a signed vinyl of dr. dog’s shame, shame , and a framed picture of the day the two of you moved in with each other. the picture still remained its place as your favorite of the two of you; sweaty, messy, slightly blurry, but still perfectly capturing the beginnings of a powerful and caring friendship. you roll the word around in your head now — friendship — and let it wash over the changes you’d noticed over the last few months of living with john.
you hadn’t been sure how to describe said subtle changes — him making both of you breakfast and coffee in the mornings, offering to cover nights out more often, changing movie nights from once a month to once a week (which, more often than not, ended with one of you sprawled across the other) — but the more you thought about it, the more you realized you’d fallen for your wild child of a roommate.
what scared you the most is that, all things considered, you were okay with falling for him. regardless of the midnight wake-ups, terrible humor, wild temper, and general catastrophe, you adore the man.
so in his absence, you slide the couch and coffee table to the sides of the living room, flick on the turntable stationed in the corner of the room, and search through the overflowing box of vinyls next to the table. on the waters finally slips into your hands, and you busy yourself with helping the vinyl play. skipping to the second song on the disc, you let the warm guitar fill the apartment, and wait for john to come back.
he enters the room after a moment. “what’s going on?”
“dance with me?”
“well, of course,” he laughs. “this is bread playing, after all.”
he sweeps into the room, setting his hands on your waist. your heart skips when he smiles down at you, his cheek pressing against your forearm when your hands settle behind his head. the two of you sway slowly to the song, lyrics tumbling easily from your mouths.
“ dreams are for those who sleep,” he laughs at that line, fingers tapping the rhythm on your hip.
“ life is for us to keep, ”
“ and if you're wondering what this song is leading to, ”
“ i want to make it with you. ” you sing gently, eyes peering hopefully at the man in your arms.
his gaze softens.
“thought you said i didn’t have a chance,” he whispers, leaning towards you.
“i changed my mind.”
the crooning guitars of make it with you fade out in that moment, smoothly replaced by the seductive guitar line of blue satin pillow . one of his hands moves to cup your face, his forehead nearly pressing against yours.
“how mad would you be if i kissed you?”
“horribly,” you murmur. “do it anyway.”
he grins like a wolf, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. the kiss isn’t perfect by any stretch of the word — you’re both drunk off of dopamine and melatonin deprivation, john’s lips are chapped, and you think you’re stepping on his toes — but you drink it in like desiccated soil drowns itself in a downpour, tangling your fingers in his snarled locks. thrills travel up your spine when his free hand presses into your lower back, heat radiating from the calloused skin and sinking into the stolen hoodie.
“is this the reason,” he breathes between kisses. “you kept stealing my clothes?”
you grin. “mhmm. wanted to keep you on your toes, keep your eyes on me.”
“is this also why you kept bitching about being single?”
“wanted to see if i was right.”
“well,” he purrs, laying the deep tone on thick. “were you?”
“yes. and thank fuck i was.”
a breathy groan slips from him, and he kisses you again.
“i’d say we did a good job with the apartment.”
you nod in agreement, eyes wandering over the well-decorated living room. your heart flutters when john wraps his arm just a little tighter around you, shifting the heavy quilt to cover your shoulders.
“i think i’d be content to sleep right here,” he adds. “the fireplace is on, the radiator’s actually working, and i’ve got a gorgeous girl in my arms.”
“but we’ve only got…” you check the clock on the cable box, just below the television. “fifteen minutes before sunrise. don’t you want to cap off how great tonight-slash-this morning has been with a pretty sunrise?”
a hum rumbles low in his chest, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. “sleep now, sunrises later. i’m sure we’ll have plenty more opportunities in the future.”
you cave, falling asleep with your head against his warm chest.
and when you dream of the memory again, you make sure to kiss him this time around.
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la douleur exquise 1
la douleur exquise (french) means ‘exquisite pain’ mostly referring to the pain you feel for wanting someone you can’t have.
Summary: After a twist of fate, you find yourself working as the personal assistant to one of the most important CEO’s in the country who also happens to be your ex-boyfriend.
Pairing: CEO!Levi x reader
The pitter-patter of the rain on the windscreen of your car did nothing to quell your nerves. You leaned back in your seat once you parked adjacent to the tall building that seemed like a looming nightmare ready to swallow you whole. Rain had always been a sense of comfort to you; an odd sense of tranquillity. But now, nothing could quell the queasy feeling in your stomach. The more you stared at the building, the more it seemed to grow taller and more intimidating.
You, like any other person in this world hated interviews. With a solid passion. It didn’t help that you were already a little bundle of nerves waiting to explode on the daily, but you knew that if you didn’t get your shit together, then you could kiss this opportunity goodbye.
Taking a few – not so helpful – breaths, you got out of your car and hurriedly made your way inside the building.
You had been looking for a job as a Personal Assistant for a while now – the perfect opportunity to spice up your resume – but to no avail. Many doors were closed in your face, promised call-backs that never came and emails sitting ignored. You lost count of the number of days spent aimlessly starring at your phone, just waiting for something to pop up, some good news. You were about to give up all hope until you got a call from a college friend who knew your struggle and screamed in your ear over the phone about a job opportunity that just opened.
‘You can’t miss this one!’
That was hardly an hour ago. And here you were.
That gave you no time to do a little research. It was safe to say that you hardly knew a thing about this company. And you hated coming unprepared. Judging from the sheer size of the building, you knew this company was doing well. Very. This, however, didn’t make you feel any better. The pressure only mounted with every step you took towards the receptionist in the lobby.
God, this place is fancy. You looked around, suddenly feeling horribly out of place. You almost felt as if every step you took tainted the floors with how clean it looked inside.
“Hello, I have an appointment scheduled for today.” You barely mustered to put on a façade of complete confidence, clearing your throat. Even the receptionist looked intimidating.
It seemed like every employee here was the same. All of them looked prim and proper, not a hair out of place. Their work suits tailored to perfection almost, crisp and expensive looking. And here you were, with the best formal attire you could attain, courtesy of your roommate.
“Your name please?” the receptionist asked, a pearly white smile on her face. A smile so bright that it made you feel as if you should have brushed your teeth at least three times before leaving your apartment. Your unknowingly brushed your tongue over the front of your teeth, not remembering if you had anything to eat this morning. The queasy feeling in your stomach returned, telling you that you didn’t.
Stating your name with confidence, you waited while the receptionist typed away on the computer in front of her.
“You are scheduled to a meeting with the CEO in about fifteen minutes, if you go to floor 50, you will find a secretary there ready to assist you once you arrive.”
“CEO?” you couldn’t help the squeak that left your mouth. You wanted to punch yourself for your screw up. Didn’t HR take care of matters such as this? The CEO?
“Yes ma’am. Since this is the position as assistant to our CEO, he will be interviewing you himself.”
You were pretty sure there were levels to this. Your friend did say it was urgent, and yet failed to add that the position was directly under the CEO. It wasn’t like you didn’t have the experience for the job. You did. No wonder she went so crazy over the phone, you thought bitterly.
“Thank you,” you sighed. Well, at least you know now. Better to find out now than blindly walking into his office. You slid your hand off the receptionist desk in front of you and turned towards the elevators.
“Ma’am,” you froze hearing her call out for you again and turned around, “you have to wear this to go up.” A visitor’s pass on a lanyard dangling from her slim finger.
“Oh, right. Thank you again.” Quickly making way to grab the pass and hanging it around your neck, finally making your way inside the elevator. Pressing the button for the 50th floor, you shifted on your feet while the doors started sliding closed when you heard somebody yelling.
“Hold it, please!” your hand instinctively reached forward to stop the elevator from sliding shut. A young man stood in front of you, catching his breath for a second before thanking you airily, a wide smile plastered on his face.
“No problem,” you smiled back. He moved his hand to the panel of buttons on the wall of the elevator when he noticed that the button for floor 50 was already lit up.
“Oh, same floor. I haven’t seen you here before, are you new?” he seemed pretty talkative, not that it was a bad thing. But you were grateful for the small talk to take your mind away from your impending interview.
“Not really, I have an interview.” You glanced up at him again, taking in his features. He was tall with a somewhat tan complexion. His hair was quite long too, you could tell by the way he tried to tie it into a bun, yet a few unruly hairs managed to escape it and framed his face. Eyes a bright green.
“I’m Eren Jaeger, I work here.” He stated, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
“I kind of guessed that” you chuckled, telling him your name.
“I’m assuming you have an interview with Mr Ackerman? He does need an assistant,” Eren wondered.
“Mr Ackerman?” you asked, tilting your head to the side with a slight rise of your eyebrow.
You coughed, feeling horribly stupid that you didn’t even know the name of the CEO until now.
Eren let out a hearty laugh, realising that he caught you in a weak moment.
“This interview was quite unexpected,” you tried to explain, “I didn’t have time to do my research.”
Eren shook his head, grin still plastered on his features and you wondered if he ever stopped smiling.
“Don’t worry about that. Just don’t let him intimidate you too much and you’ll be okay.”
Your eyes widened a fraction. That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear right now. You were already intimated as can be.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.”
“No, no it’s okay.” You breathed. Maybe it was good he told you this so you could further prepare yourself mentally to face this man. Then again, you didn’t think a man that could be the CEO of a company like this could be anything but intimating.
The ding of the elevator brought you out of your reverie and your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Well, it was really nice meeting you,” Eren said sincerely, his grin now replaced with a comforting smile, “good luck.”
Your words of thanks barely left your lips when Eren scurried off.
Stepping out, you looked around and sighed. This floor was even fancier than the lobby. You willed yourself to stay confident. Giving yourself a mini pep-talk, you walked over to the secretary and introduced yourself.
After being shown a seat, you looked at the watch on your wrist. 6 minutes left. It felt like the second hand of your watch and your heartbeat were in sync with one another. With a final gentle shake of your head, you decided to push all thought out of your head.
You could do this. You can. You must.
The sound of your name had you looking up, it was the secretary from before.
“You can go in now; Mr Ackerman is ready for you. If you’ll kindly follow me.” she informed with a smile on her face.
Thanking her, you stood up with a newfound confidence. Your legs no longer shaking, heart no longer feeling as if it will beat out of your chest, you followed the secretary to the huge double doors at the other side of the floor which you assumed belonged to the CEO himself. Knocking twice on the door, the secretary announced your presence outside.
“Bring her in, and you may leave,” said the voice from inside.
You were ushered inside the office and you were caught by surprise at the view. All but one of the walls were made of glass, giving you a beautiful view of the city below you. On the other side of the office, you spotted expensive leather furniture with a sleek black coffee table in between the single seater couches.
Not wanting to spend too much time ogling the office, your eyes slowly turned to the huge desk in front of you and your breath was caught, yet again, in your throat at the sight of the man seated in the chair behind the desk.
Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. No amount of pep-talks or meditating breaths could help. You wanted to kick yourself for not even doing the most basic of research on this company. Just a simple Google search would have told you who was the CEO of this place.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You chanted internally. You heard at least two people in the span of less than five minutes apart from each other mention the name ‘Mr Ackerman’, but you didn’t even think to make the connection. After all, what were the chances of this happening?
You clenched your fist, the other gripping onto your folder with your documents inside.
Levi Ackerman. The man you had dated three years ago. He was your first love, as far as first love’s go. He was everything to you. At the time, he wasn’t the CEO of a conglomerate, but a man trying his best to make an honest living and work his way up in the business world.
Breathe! You screamed to yourself; but you struggled. You couldn’t move, couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You were completely frozen to the spot, as if time stood still as the two of you looked at one another.
The silence was deafening. The sound of your heart pumping away sounded like a drum in your ears.
He looked the same, yet so different at the same time.
Those same steel grey eyes that you remembered so well, stared at you with enough intensity that made your knees wobble. Those eyes, although intense, used to look at you so tenderly. But now you could not read him at all.
All this time apart, you had worked so hard getting over him. You built walls around yourself and didn’t let anybody pass for fear of being hurt again like he had hurt you.
He was your first, and your last.
A relationship that he ended. And now you stood there, physically and mentally weakened at the mere sight of him. You hadn’t seen him since that night when he ended everything and left you alone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. You never thought you would ever see him again. A part of you agreed that that would have been more than suitable; yet here he was, seated right in front of you.
You gasped when he spoke. Your eyes seeing his lips moving before his words registered in your mind.
“Long time no see,” your name dripped from his tongue like honey. Just 5 words and it was like you were cast in an alluring spell that you couldn’t break out of. If he was shocked to see you, he didn’t show it. He was always good at keeping a straight face, not giving anything away that he didn’t want to be shown. If only you had that amount of self-control, you thought bitterly to yourself.
“Yes, it had been a while, Mr Ackerman.” After all the internal suffering you just went through, even you were surprised at the fact that you managed to speak without a stutter, without sounding as weak as you felt.
“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” his elbow resting on the desk with his thumb supporting his chin, pointer finger grazing his full bottom lip. You wanted to shudder at the sight, but you managed to keep your face straight. “You know me.”
“I’d prefer to keep things professional, Mr Ackerman,” you stated, not missing the slight raise of his eyebrow and the glint in his eye. Considering the circumstances, you were chuffed at the fact that you seemed to be holding your own. You were determined to not let anything slip past your face. Your body however, you couldn’t help the slight tremor in your leg, and you kept your fingers clenched tightly in your palm, your other trying not to squash the documents in hand.
Despite your determination to appear as stoic as he, you didn’t want anything more than a giant hole appearing beneath your feet to swallow you whole and take you far away from him. But you fought to keep your composure, refusing to appear weak in front of him.
“Have a seat then,” he says, gesturing to one of the empty chairs placed in front of his desk. The size of this desk was completely unnecessary and almost swallowed him whole, you humoured to yourself for second. Yet that tiny second of humour vanished when you walked towards the chair and sat down, placing the folder that contained your personal documents in the middle of the desk for his perusal. His presence alone overshadowed the size the desk, the office, everything. He always had that type of aura around him.
Levi’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second and you didn’t miss the way his stare pierced you, as if he could see into your very soul. You felt completely vulnerable in front of him, as if he could read everything about each movement you made. Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look into his eyes, ready to face him completely.
“So,” he started, “why do want to work for my company?”
You should have expected a question such as this. The most basic question in any interview, yet somehow you couldn’t wrack your brain enough for a suitable answer. You dug your nails into your knee, trying to stop it from jumping as you watched his slender fingers flip through your resume in front of him. You were thankful now for the big desk between the two of you as it kept your actions underneath hidden and kept him further away from you. Unfortunately for you though, Levi notices everything, even the things you try to hide.
“No need to be shy, it’s just me.” There he goes again, your name rolling off his tongue so smoothly. You almost couldn’t stand to hear it anymore.
Suddenly you remembered the man from the elevator.
‘Just don’t let him intimidate you too much and you’ll be okay.’
You bit down your lip, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. He was right. Levi didn’t even need to try much to intimidate anybody. But thinking back on all that you have been through after he left you alone… you couldn’t, you wouldn’t show him any more.
“The experience from working here will be a necessary asset to furthering my career.” It was a blunt answer, but the truth. At first you wondered if you should’ve expanded on your answer a bit, but then decided not to. You wouldn’t know how to anyway. You didn’t know jack shit about this company, so you couldn’t lie about how the company’s mission and vision were in line with your goals and all that bullshit. You decided at that moment, that whatever happened from here on out, you will be okay with it.
If you get the job, that will be a boost to your career. If you didn’t, then at least you didn’t need to see Levi again.
“So honest,” Levi mused, the glint in his eye ever present, “I always did like that about you.” Your fists clenched over your knees at his statement. How could words like that flow out of him so easily? You wouldn’t react to them, you were determined. He won’t shake you anymore.
The rest of the interview passed by like a blur. Every answer you gave him seemed to amuse him somehow, which only managed to irritate you after a while. Was he even taking you seriously? Was he just teasing you and wasting your time? You huffed, thinking back to his deep voice bidding you goodbye and that ‘see you soon’ rang in your ears like a siren.
Once you got back to your car, you banged your head on the steering wheel as hard you could without injuring yourself. After all you went through today, you didn’t need add an injury on top it. But you were frustrated. You hated that Levi could evoke so much emotion deep within your soul after you tried to bury it away for so long.
You doubted Levi was unaware of the affect he still had on you.
You didn’t look as happy as somebody who had just gotten a job as the personal assistant to a CEO of a conglomerate such as this. Only during the interview did you realise that Levi was a pretty big deal now. He turned out to be success after all.
Pulling at your hair, your frustration at your own stupidity grew. How you could not have prepared yourself better for this. If you had known, would you have gone for the interview? You couldn’t give yourself an honest answer.
Another sharp breath escaped past your lips. You needed this job, and you got it. The benefits of working for this company in a position such as yours was… amazing, to say the least.
I can do this, you muttered to yourself like a mantra. It’s work, it’s not like he can do anything. You just needed to focus on your work, and you will be okay. You repeated this in your head a couple of times, yet you were not sure of it yourself.
Slapping your cheeks, you grunted. “Get yourself together, you can do this.” You hyped yourself up. After everything, you were proud at how you managed to maintain your composure during the interview. Once you got in the swing of things, you would be okay, you would not be intimidated. You would show him that you are okay.
Little did you know, you were in for one hell of a ride.
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Stone and Steel: Part One
So... I know no one asked for a new Elorcan AU... but I have one anyway! Massive thanks to @nalgenewhore for helping me plot this whole thing out.
The first two chapters are going to be shorter, since they’re just introduction chapters.
Summary: Lorcan Salvaterre. Hewn from stone, hard as stone. It’s all he’s heard his entire life - which was never easy. After taking a few years off so he could afford university, he’s finally starting his freshman year. He might be a little older, but nothing is going to stop him from changing his life, not even her.
Elide Lochan. Heart of steel, nerves of steel. After everything she’s been through, university holds the key to her future, to making her life what she wants it to be. She knows what it’s like to struggle, to think her future might never actually be hers. She has no time for distractions, not even him.
Warnings: just language!
Fall Semester, Freshman Year.
Dodging around her oldest friend and college roommate, Elide walked back into the hallway, shouting over shoulder, “I have one more box to grab and then we can start setting up, Ae!”
She heard Aelin yell something back, but she was already halfway down the stairs. It was move-in day - for her freshman year of university, no less - and while she was excited, she also knew that she’d worked hard to get where she was and she couldn’t waste this opportunity. Her life certainly hadn’t been easy, and this was her chance - she could make her life everything she’d always wanted it to be.
As she rounded the landing, she was forced to basically throw herself against the wall, flattening as much as she could so she wasn’t trampled by a large, slightly intimidating man carrying a box that looked like it would fall apart if it wasn’t properly supported.
“Oh, sorry,” she grumbled, not thrilled that he’d nearly run her over but not wanting to make an enemy in her building before school even started.
The man just rolled his eyes at her, continuing up the stairs and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like an insult under his breath.
Elide sighed, jogging down the last of the stairs. “Or not.”
Moving quickly across the parking lot until she reached her car, she leaned against the bumper of the white ‘98 Explorer, catching her breath and rolling her ankle. When that failed to ease the pain, she popped the hatch and grabbed the extra brace she always kept tucked in with all the blankets and towels. She sank to the ground, thankful she’d elected to wear her running sneakers and not one of her many, many pairs of canvas ones - her brace wouldn’t fit inside those.
Pulling off her right shoe, she slipped on the brace and laced it up with the simple efficiency that came with three years of doing it. She used to hate the brace, especially when she was wearing something that made it stand out - like the short jean shorts and the oversized black tee she’d chosen for moving - but over time, she’d come to accept it as a part of who she was.
Anymore, she was grateful for it. It made a lot of things in her daily life easier. It meant that she could live without pain.
That was important to her.
Slipping her shoe back on, Elide grabbed the last box from the back of her car, balanced it on her hip as she shut the door, and then started back toward the building and her brand new dorm room.
She’d just slipped through the door at the top of the stairs when the box she was carrying slammed into something.
Well, someone, actually.
“Fuck,” she muttered, trying to negotiate the box so she could properly apologize. “I’m so sorry.”
Finally managing to swing the box down to her hip, she came face to face with the man who’d practically run her over earlier. Though she’d noticed how tall he was before, she hadn’t noticed anything else - like the fact that he had long dark hair that framed a surprisingly handsome face and startlingly intense dark eyes - not that she cared, given that he was in the middle of rolling his eyes.
“You think you could watch where you’re going?” He scowled, crossing muscled arms over his broad chest.
She scoffed. “I seem to remember you practically trampling me earlier, and now I need to watch where I’m going?”
The man just shook his head, stepping around her without sparing her a glance. “You were the one who wasn’t paying attention then too. Not my problem that you’re too lost in your own perfect world.”
Elide opened her mouth to reply, but he was already disappearing down the stairs. “Bastard,” she muttered under her breath, hefting the box back up and heading for her room. He was easily the most unpleasant man she’d ever met - her uncle and his slimy friends not included, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin her freedom.
She and Aelin spent the next few hours setting up their room - beds raised so that their desks could fit underneath them, as many overflowing bookshelves as they could fit, a tiny sofa that also doubled as a pull-out couch somehow perfectly placed to face the tv and not take up too much space, and wire shelves with baskets and drawers on wheels so they could move them around as needed.
They’d left the door open as they worked, hoping to get to know some of the other people on their floor, and Elide looked up just as the dark haired man opened the door across the hall. He was with another guy, this one with silver hair, that she assumed was his roommate, since they were both carrying boxes.
Well fuck her. It looked like her new least favorite person happened to be her across-the-hall neighbor.
Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @snelbz @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @nalgenewhore @sleeping-and-books @photofeesh @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @julemmaes @thesirenwashere @tswaney17 @b00kworm @over300books @maastrash @empress-ofbloodshed @ladywitchling @mynewdreamwasyou @illyrian-bookworm @maybekindasortaace @hizqueen4life @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @bielectra @bamchickawowow @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @somenerdydancer @darlinminds @perseusannabeth
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i also wanna know abt who am i really 👀
okay. so. ‘who am i really’ is the first zukka thing i ever wrote, started before i had even. finished watching the show lmao
basically i have 25k of it written, probably another 4-5k written in notes and an outline, but i am mature and knowledgeable of my own shortcomings enough to know there’s no way in hell i’ll ever finish it, because that 25k? isn’t even. 20% of the fic if i were to actually write it, like this shit would approach 200k in its final form and i very simply do not have the time to actually. write that lmao
but i’m happy to talk about it! so basically it was the whole ‘oh my god they were roommates’ premise except zuko is sokka’s downstairs neighbour, they fight over music volume, and for the first part of the fic zuko’s a bootlicking son of the city police chief and starting out at the police academy, who calls the cops on sokka for his music one night
aand i just realised how long this is gonna be so under the cut!
so we start from the ‘zuko’s a fucking asshole’ stage and move on from there, and then due to a couple of different mildly traumatic events zuko realises the police system is inherently evil, has his whole redemption arc slash emotional breakdown and quits the force, he gets cut off by ozai and moves in w sokka for cheaper rent bc sokka is a nice person (who’s seen the way zuko has been walking around looking like absolute Death for weeks) and also needs someone to help w the rent
we also start from the point where sokka’s dating suki, and zuko’s still coming to terms with his sexuality, so there’s all that to work through
basically it just goes into the development of zuko and sokka’s friendship, and zuko’s development as a person going from an incredibly sheltered, incredibly privileged life to... the opposite of that lmao and how his friendship with the rest of the gaang grows, and his personal journey, and whatnot, just a nice little mirror for canon except w more swearing and the author talking about how all cops are bastards
it’s all self indulgent nonsense and little bits of shit that popped into my head so i wrote it down, really, but here’s my favourite bit
“So I was thinking.”
“Never a good sign.”
“Ha, ha.” Sokka deadpans. “Seriously though. I want a GNO. Drinking, dancing, questionable choices, might even get some action if I’m on my game.”
“And you think this is something I would enjoy.” Zuko, the introvert who can’t dance, responds.
“You’ll enjoy it because you’re going with your best friends, one of whom is just getting over the emotional hangover of the end of a three-year relationship.” Sokka pouts. “We can even go to a gay club! It’s been ages since I’ve been to one.”
Zuko snorts, and looks back to the TV. “I thought you wanted to get some ‘action’.”
“I mean, I would also be fine with just a fun night out with the gang. But if there are interested parties.” Sokka shrugs.
“Well, forgive me if my idea of a fun night isn’t watching Toph beat the shit out of you for creeping on lesbians at a gay club.”
Sokka makes an exasperated noise. “C’mon, you know me better than that.” He says, throwing a cheeto at the side of Zuko’s face. “I said interested parties. I can be strictly dick-tly for an evening, no sweat.”
Zuko turns, brow raised. “What does that even mean.”
“Y’know. I wouldn’t say no to a girl of the bipan persuasion if she wants to make a move, but if I’m actively pursuing anyone, it’ll just be guys. And, y’know, any non-girl people who seem into it.”
A record scratches in Zuko’s brain. “You… why would you pursue a guy.”
“I dunno, if he’s hot?” Sokka says, looking at him like he’s crazy. “Or has a nice smile? Shiny hair? I dunno, why do you usually pursue guys, Z.”
“But.” Zuko stammers, staring at Sokka. “But I’m attracted to men.”
Sokka blinks at him. “…so am I?”
What. “What.” No seriously, what. “What?!”
“Is this… are you trying to be funny?”
Zuko stares at his roommate, frantically trying to understand what’s going on. “Are you trying to be funny?!”
“No, I’m being bisexual.” Sokka says, slightly defensively. “Because I’m bisexual?”
Sokka stares at him, then gestures to wall. “Zuko, that’s been up since I moved in. I know you’ve seen it.”
Zuko turns to stare at the wall, but all he can see is- “The flag?”
“Yeah, Zuko, the fucking flag. Did you think I just thought it was pretty?”
“Is-” Zuko flounders. “Is the flag significant?”
Sokka looks intently, somewhat crazed, at Zuko’s face, like he’s searching for something. Whatever it is, he obviously doesn’t find it. His arm is still held out towards the wall, and he uses it to gesture towards the flag again, more aggressively this time. “It’s the fucking bisexual pride flag, Zuko!”
“I.” Zuko gapes at him, still confused. “I thought the pride flag was a rainbow?”
“Oh my-” Sokka starts. “Are you fucking with me right now. Is this you fucking with me.” He pauses, staring at Zuko. “Jesus fuck, Zuko, there are different flags for different sexualities. That’s the bisexual one.”
Zuko stares at the flag, then back at Sokka, then back at the flag. Then back at Sokka. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!”
“Everybody knows that, Zuko!” Sokka exclaims, then brings his hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I guess you just. Didn’t know that. Somehow. And that’s fine. Point being, I am bisexual. I am attracted to all genders, I’ve been- I thought- out since I was sixteen. So yeah. I’m bi.”
“But.” Zuko’s brain has been trying to process this information, and now rejects it entirely. “But that. You can’t be.”
Sokka gives him a weird look. “I can’t be?” His face shifts, into something sort of… defensive. Wary, almost. “Do you have a problem with bisexuals?”
“What?” Oh shit. “No, of- of course not! I- I love bisexuals! All of the- um,” Zuko’s mind races, trying to think of a bi person he knows personally, and then frantically widening its search to any bisexual human being in all of recorded history. “Jet! Jet’s bi! Love Jet, he’s, um. Yeah! Bi.”
Sokka’s face isn’t defensive anymore, but it is shocked. And- something else, Zuko can’t quite place. “You love Jet?”
“You just said you loved Jet.” Sokka says, sort of quietly. “I just- I guess I didn’t know you guys were at that point.”
Zuko absolutely does not love Jet. Only Jet loves Jet. But Sokka’s looking at him, lit by the artificial glow of the TV, still the most attractive thing Zuko’s ever seen. So Zuko’s self-preservation instinct kicks in. “Uh. Yeah, you know.” He swallows. “It’s still pretty new, but. Yeah.”
“Well hey, that’s.” Sokka gives a small smile. “That’s great.” He places his hands on his thighs, pushing up off the couch. “I’m just gonna text everybody, see if we can get the night planned.”
He walks away, leaving Zuko to his mental breakdown in peace.
[later that week or some transition i haven’t written lmao]
“Zuko, you know I’m bi, right?” Suki laughs, but the grin slides off her face when Zuko hesitates. “You know that, right.”
Zuko makes a reluctant face. “I know now…?”
“Oh my-“ Suki stares at him, then looks at Sokka who makes a face as if to say ‘see, what did I tell you’. “Ew, Zuko!” She cries. “Ew, you thought- you thought I was straight?!”
“You had a boyfriend,” Zuko defends himself weakly.
Suki looks like she wants to scream. “I’ve never been so offended in my entire life.”
“Now you know how I feel.” Sokka says.
“Me! A straight girl!” She laughs, slightly hysterical. “Me!”
“Okay, I guess I just-” Zuko starts, but Suki holds out two fingers in front of his face, shutting him up.
“No no, that’s enough from you today.” She looks, wide-eyed, at Sokka. “What do I have to do, paint the fucking bi flag on my face?”
Sokka snorts. “He wouldn’t recognise it, anyway.”
Suki turns back to glare at Zuko. “I thought we were friends, Zuko.”
and then in a perfect world this would be followed by a montage of all the times sokka has definitely been openly bisexual in front of ‘still coming to terms with his own sexuality’ zuko who’d just. wrote it off as bro culture
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4, 13, 28 for the random asks mwah ❤️
4. describe your dream house
ooooh ok ok so i don’t really want a house but more of like. an apartment or a flat or a townhouse or smth. one that’s in the city with lots of windows and has that fun thin tall design that makes it look like it’s squished in between all the other buildings. one with a little porch out front and maybe the outside is a nice bright color with lots of plants hanging. and for the inside i need a green kitchen (mandatory) and a green sofa (mandatory) and lots of plants and horror movie posters and tacky year round halloween decorations. and for the kitchen i’ve always wanted one of those designs where the cabinets don’t actually have doors so all of the spices and plates and cups are all on display... a very nice and cute maximalist design. i’d also love love love to have a room designated for practicing violin!! one with the acoustic padding on the walls and everything. there’s also gotta be space for me to have one of those fun little cat trees that’s attached to the walls (the ones where cats can basically climb up to the ceiling and go over little bridges and things... i want my cats to have fun <3). everything needs to be light/neutral earth tones with splashes of dark green and another fun accent color... maybe orange? here’s a bunch of pictures from my pinterest board. i’ve been thinking abt my dream home for sooo long
i know half of them are kitchens but also i’ve never really planned for what i want the rest of my house to look like because all i care about is having a warm and welcoming kitchen because that’s where i want people to spend their time... when people come over i just want to cook for them... the ultimate love language is knowing how to make someone’s favorite meal and having all the ingredients ready for it :)
13. do you have a signature in your style/everyday outfits?
yes!! typically i wear the same jewelry so i’m usually wearing lots of gold things; gold small hoop earrings, the watch my parents gave me for my 18th birthday, bracelets, necklaces, etc. typically i have a long scarf tied in my hair or a gold claw clip bc i don’t very often wear my hair down anymore... platform doc martens are a MUST and ik this isn’t exactly part of my style/outfit but my signature scent is maison margiela replica jazz club!! it smells like cigars and cocktails. tobacco girlies make some noise
28. how often do you cook?
rarely ever now that i’m back with my parents and working so much 😩 i can’t wait to move out again or work less so i can have time to make some of my favorite recipes again.. i used to cook and bake almost everyday when i lived on my own the first time and it was so nice even though my roommates never wanted to eat the things i made them :( taking applications for new roommates who will eat the bread and soup that i make :)
send me random asks <3
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Selcouth: Unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous. Old English.
Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!
Pairing: CarMechanic!Namjoon x Writer!Reader
Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst, but a happy ending :)
Note: I stg this Aquafina water be hittin’ different nowadays
Summary: Having your car break down? Sucks. Having your car break down in an unfamiliar town after losing basically everything? Yeah, that really sucks. Hopefully, the smartest mechanic in town can get you back on the road quickly.
Word Count: 3.6k
“W-What do you mean you’re letting me go?”
“I mean that you’re fired, Y/n, but I wanted to put it in a nicer way,” Your boss explained, releasing a sigh. “B-But why?” You sputtered out, “Mr. Choi, you know I need this writing job... No other position is open the city...” You begged, having the smallest of hope that he would reconsider. “I know Ms. L/n, but the company is going under, even if you stay I can’t pay you,” Mr. Choi groaned, one of his palms resting on his face.
You felt like crying. Ever since you were little, you dreamed of being a writer and sharing stories with others. When you got older, that dream changed to wanting people around the world to read what you wrote, so why not write articles for newsletter companies?
It was difficult. The city you lived in was full of competition for every job you could name. Office workers, technicians, writers. But you had nowhere else to go. You moved away from home for this. Your family sorta cut ties with you shortly after, never really caring for you in a parental way... They were just there. So you needed to succeed. You needed this job.
And now that was all gone.
So you went home, searched up writing jobs in a 50-mile radius, packed your things, got in your car, and started driving. In the next city over there was a new newsletter company getting started and they were looking for writers. It was just the thing you needed. Maybe this was the universe telling you that you needed a change of pace. That you needed a new routine, a second chance to start over and make life your bitch.
The blur of lush, green trees whooshed past your car windows as you kept your eyes on the coarse road in front of you. The rhythmic hum of the machine you were operating was the only sound you could hear. You had a music playlist, but after an hour and a half, it got more irritating than relaxing. So you sat in silence, mind blank, as you ran on auto-pilot.
Until your car made an odd sputter.
Creasing your eyebrows, you looked at the dials on your dashboard, waiting for any warning light to shine, but none did. You shrugged it off, still feeling slightly uneasy, but trusting your old machine to safely get you to your destination. Besides, there's nothing out here. It has to.
Nothing happened for another half-hour. Just the same methodical vroom of your tires on the road and whoosh of your air conditioning vents. You were just thinking about turning on the radio to whatever channel reached out here when... Sputter... Sputter.
Twice now, your car sputtered twice now. “God, please don’t do this,” You groaned to yourself, praying to whatever miracle maker was in the sky that your car wouldn’t break down on an obscure road with no big commune around for miles. Sputter... Sputtt... Sputter... It was getting worse now, but being the stubborn person you were, you refused to believe that the car you had since teenage hood was finally giving out on you.
Sputter... Sputter... Sput... put... pu.. tttt...
Sighing, you pulled over to the side of the road with what little acceleration you had left on your- now dead- car. You sat there in the driver seat for a second, gathering your scattered thoughts, blinking back your tears of frustration. “I can’t believe this,” You whispered to the quiet air in the car. You hit your steering wheel in anger, immediately regretting it when the sting of the hit hurt your hand in turn. Curse you Newton and your 3rd law.
Pulling out your phone from your backpack that laid in the passenger seat, you looked up mechanics you could call. Surprisingly, there was a tiny village not too far from here, only 2 miles, that had a mechanic. Bangtan Village. “Huh,” You murmured, “Never heard of it,”
You’ve never heard of Bangtan Village before. Then again, you’ve never went traveling around these parts either. You were always confined to the big cities for work, so it wasn’t a mind blowing revelation that there was possibly a village out here.
Dialing the number listed, the phone rung a few times before the voice of a man answered. “Hello Kim’s Car Repair, how may I help you?” His voice sounded very warm and friendly. The soothing tone called down your panicking heart, and for that you were grateful.
“Hey, um, my car broke down, do you do towing?” You asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers.
“Yes we do! Do you know where you are?”
You told him what road you were on and approximately how close to town you were and he reassured you that he would get to you soon. So you had no choice but to wait.
20 minutes later, the rumble of the tow truck caught your attention. A tall man, about 6 foot, stepped out of the truck and gave you a dimpled smile. He had tan skin and gold brunette hair that was dirtied by what looked to be the black residue that comes from working on cars. His brown eyes crinkled endearingly and he was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans combo. He looked like the type of man who starred in a romance drama.
“Hello! I assume your the Y/n I spoke to on the phone?” He asked, walking up to stand in front of me. For a man so tall, his height was comforting in a friendly giant way rather than intimidating. “Yeah, that’s me,” You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m Namjoon,” He said, shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” You smiled, thinking that his hands were calloused from the work he did, but they were also a tough sort of soft.
“Okay, so the plan is to tow your car back to my shop, see what’s up with it, then get you back on the road,” Namjoon explained, smile never slipping off of his face.
“Sounds good, Namjoon,” You smiled back.
Namjoon hooked up your car to the truck as you sat in the front passenger's seat, watching him do his work smoothly, like a true professional. Once Namjoon was done, he got back in the truck, “Ready?” He asked. “Ready!” You firmly nodded. “Let’s go then” Namjoon grinned.
The drive was smooth and somewhat quiet. The two of you talked here and there. About where you were going, your profession, his profession. Just very basic small talk. Before you knew it, you were in the quaint tiny village of Bangtan. Everything was spotless. The streets were free of litter, murals were painted on store walls, people were chatting friendly on the sidewalk. It was an enormous difference from the dirty, tagged, unfriendly streets of the city. It was a pleasant sight to see, a soul-cleansing image.
Soon, Namjoon had your car in the shop and was inspecting it in no time. Already getting down to the problem while you waited anxiously waited for a verdict. “Well, I have good news and bad news,” Namjoon sighed, wiping off his dirtied hands on a hand towel. “Tell me the bad news first,” You said, grimly expecting the worst. “Okay, so, it’s a problem with your engine that will take at least a week to fix minimum.” He sighed, a sad smile on his face. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “But the good news is! You’re in Bangtan!” He said, giving you jazz hands.
“What do you mean?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Everyone here is friendly, and I know you don’t exactly have a place to go, but I’m sure someone would be willing to house you” He shrugged.
“Namjoon, I don’t have the money to pay a rent.” You sighed.
“Then you can stay here! Free of charge! Consider it a few add on to me fixing your car,” He smiled.
You felt a little better at that. You would have a place to stay, and it wouldn’t cost you a thing. Thinking about how much money was in your savings account, you felt like angels were singing at Namjoon’s suggestion. “Really?” You asked, eyes lit up in hope. “Of course. I’m not going to kick you out on the street,” He chuckled, giving you that same adorable dimpled smile. “Thank you so much, Namjoon. I’ll make it up to you!” You grinned, bouncing in excitement. “No need, I’m just glad to help.”
Namjoon lived on the second floor of his shop. It was a small apartment, an open living room-kitchen plan with amazing natural light. His apartment was full of plants. Flowers, mini trees, elephant leaves. He even had a beautiful bonsai that obviously got a lot of care. “Your place is nice.” You complimented genuinely, smiling at the little things spread around the room. He had a Ryan cushion on his couch, a bookshelf full of classics, and solar powered toys in the window. The ones that bobble back and forth. “Thank you,” Namjoon chuckled, scratching the back of his neck while the two of you took off your shoes. “It’s a bit messy, but it’s home,” He said, leading you through the apartment to his small guest bedroom.
“Here it is!” Namjoon said, leaning his head against the doorway. “Thank you again, Namjoon. I’ll be sure to be the best temporary roommate ever!” You promised. Namjoon laughed, patting you on the back with his large hand. “Just don’t murder me in my sleep and we’ll be fine,” He said, and you snorted. “Have you seen yourself? You could snap me like a twig,” You chuckled, gesturing to his sculpted arms that he no doubt got from his rigorous line of work. “I’d never,” He smirked, giving you a wink that made your heart flutter and cheeks heat up.
You nervously chuckled, looking away from him to look around the room a bit, dropping your backpack off on the bed. “I’ll let you get settled, I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” Namjoon said, giving you a little wave goodbye as he closed the door, giving you some privacy. Sighing, you flopped on the soft white bed and let out a groan at how good it felt to lie down after driving for so long. You didn’t realize just how tired you were until you drifted off to sleep, letting the sweet shackles of your subconscious lock you in a state of rest.
“So you’re telling me, that you had to write an article about animal genitalia? And ducks have corkscrew penises?” Namjoon laughed from under the car he was working on. “Yeah, and let me tell you whatever FBI agent is assigned to watching my internet history has quit by now,” You joked, laughing along with the man who has been your roommate for the past 4 days. “Wow, that sounds... interesting,” Namjoon chuckled, rolling out from under the car and sitting up straight to look at you. “Quite,” You answered back, handing him his hand towel so he could clean off his oily hands. “Hey um, I have a weird question to ask,” Namjoon said, grabbing your attention.
Quirking your head to the side, you raised your eyebrows, “What’s up? Nothing can be weirder than a duck's dick.” You giggled, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “Would you... like to go out for dinner? There’s this nice restaurant in town that I think you’d like,” You asked nervously, his pitch gradually increasing as he got more anxious. You internally giggled at the fact that he was nervous at asking you to dinner, but smiled at him nonetheless. “That sounds nice. Are we going tonight?” You inquired, leaning on the edge of your seat. “Um, we can... if you’d like too...” He shrugged, fiddling with his grease stained hand towel. “I’d love to,”
Namjoon’s smiled widened as he stood up to put away his tools. “Great! Um, we can go at 6?” He offered, and you have him a nod. “6 sounds good,” You answered, standing up to go and get ready. “I’ll be waiting.” You smiled, leaving Namjoon swooning as he gave you a look of admiration. “Yeah, yeah I’ll see you soon,” He smiled back, giving you a little wave as you walked out of his shop, running upstairs to pick out the nicest outfit you had from the limited clothes you brought with you that aren’t packed in boxes.
Soon you picked out a cute skirt and sweater, modeling them in the mirror. Once you were satisfied with the way you looked and didn’t look like you crawled right out of bed, you checked the time. 5:45. You had a bit of time left before you left, so you sat down on the couch for a bit. Once you got out there, you couldn’t help but pick up one of Namjoon’s books that were lying around to help pass the time.
The Catcher in the Rye. A classic. Everyone in their senior year of highschool has probably read this book, willingly or not. The sheer amount of angst in this book would seemingly drive reader away, but it does the opposite. “I see you’ve found one of my favorites,” Namjoon chuckled from the doorway, pulling you out of the world in the book. “I have a feeling all the books on those shelves are your favorites” You teased, closing the hard cover and placing the book down on the coffee table.
“Maybe, but I’ve been on a Pride and Prejudice kick lately,” He chuckled, looking over to the bookshelves he had in his living room. “Really? For the dramatic love story or the social critiques?” You asked, but Namjoon didn’t answer right away. He just looked deep into your eyes, something that resembled longing swirling in the brown weaves of his irises. “The love story,” He spoke softly, not daring to take his eyes off of you.
Namjoon looked at you like you were a star in the sky and he was the moon, longing to hold your light in the palms of his hands and never let go. Like he wanted to take you on his personal nature walks and talk to you about all the different flora he’s identified on the trails. Like he wanted you there, 24/7, while he worked on the cars in his garage. Working was a lot less lonely when you had someone to tell you about the anatomy of animal genitalia for an article they were writing that was totally scientific. But Namjoon knew that tomorrow he would have to deliver the news that your car was in working order again.
And then you would leave him...
“Let’s go,” Namjoon whispered, giving you his classic dimpled smile that made your heart swoon every time he flashed one at you. Nodding, you got up from the couch and followed him out the door, taking a walk through the village, waving to a few people that you’ve briefly met, and arriving at the small bistro that was situated on a street corner.
The inside of the restaurant smell heavenly and made your already empty stomach growl in anticipation. “Hungry?” Namjoon teased with a smile. “Extremely,” You dramatically sighed back, chucking along with him. “Well then, let’s eat, shall we?”
“Alright, I know you said you get your money’s worth here, Namjoon. But this sandwich is huge,” You stressed, looking at the thick one foot sub that laid ominously on the ceramic plate in front of you. “You can always save it for later,” He suggested, taking a bite into his own, 6-inch, sandwich. He groaned in delight at the taste. “I love food,” He sighed. “Well, you kinda need it to live, Joon,” You chuckled, taking a bite of your own sandwich.
Namjoon paused mid bite, looking up at you with wide eyes as you eyed the sandwich currently in your hands, trying to figure out how they made sandwiches that tasted like Gods ambrosia. “J-Joon?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his stunned expression. “Oh, sorry, was that not okay? I won’t say it again,” “N-No! I just, I liked it is all,” Namjoon interrupted, stumbling over his words while he examined the sandwich in his hands like you had been doing moments before.
You chuckled, “Well Joon, I saw that you ate my mozzarella sticks,” You playfully scolded, giving him an unimpressed face. “What? You left them in the fridge for too long,” He argued back with a smile while you took another bite of your sandwich. “Mmhmm,” You hummed, chuckling to yourself. “I um, have some good news,” Namjoon spoke up after a beat of silence.
You raised your eyebrows, signaling him to continue what he was saying. “Your car should be ready to go tomorrow,” He mumbled, and you stopped chewing. Swallowing-more like gulping-you let out a deep breath that you were unconsciously holding. “O-oh? Is that so?” You said, feeling a tad bit disappointed now that you didn’t have an excuse to stay.
Namjoon nodded, fiddling with his sandwich. “Yeah, um, I got it fixed up. All good now,” He coughed, feeling unhappy about the thought of you leaving. “That’s good... Thank you Namjoon,” You said back, truly meaning the words, but not having the excitement to put behind them.
The two of you continued to eat and chat with this air of uneasiness around you. Neither one of you talking about the possibility of you leaving tomorrow, continuing your journey and forgetting about the adventures you had here. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted to do. On one hand, you had gotten so used to Namjoon and his presence that being without him would be a hard pill to swallow. But on the other hand, you knew that moving to the city where you could get a job was the safer, and more financially wise, option for you. You were stuck between your happiness and your routine normality that you have gotten used to having.
You looked at your now fully packed backpack in contempt. The feeling of dread that you got about leaving Bangtan village only increased as the day went on and you prepared for the journey to the next city over. You didn’t want to go, but could you truly stay? What would you do? What would be your source of income? You didn’t know, and not knowing this made you feel anxious.
“Are you ready to go?” Namjoon asked you from the doorway. You looked up at him into his golden amber eyes, not saying anything just yet. You thought about the time you shared with Namjoon. The movie nights, dinners, the time in his shop. All seemingly small and domestic things you never thought about in the moment, but now that you're here getting ready to say goodbye to it all, you weren’t ready to.
But you didn’t have a choice. Namjoon wasn’t going to let you live with him forever and you didn’t know if anybody in the town needed a writer for anything, so you had to toughen up and say goodbye with tears stinging in your eyes. “Y-yeah, I guess so,” You mumbled. Namjoon nodded, walking you down to the street where your car was running and waiting.
You stood there next to Namjoon for a couple moments. Basking in the comfort of his presence as you took a deep breath and let it out with a weak sigh. “I guess this is goodbye,” You whispered, kicking stones that laid on the sidewalk. “I guess it is,” Namjoon replied, pretending to care about the dirt that forever laid in his nail beds.
Gathering up all the scattered courage you had, you took a couple steps to your car. You were about ready to opening the driver’s side door when Namjoon called out to you. “Y/n! Wait!” He yelled, as he ran down to your side, putting his hand over yours to stop you from opening the door. “I- Y-yes?” You asked, looking at his fiery, determined eyes. “Stay with me,” He begged quietly.
“What?” You gasped.
“Stay with me Y/n, here, in the village,”
“Namjoon, you know I can’t-”
“Why not? If you’re worried about finding a place to stay, we could live together. I’ll get better at cooking, I promise,” Namjoon wavered, taking your hand fully in his. “Please Y/n, I know we may not know each other that well and you had a plan to move into the city and restart your life but... Can you restart it here? With me?” He begged, confident demeanor slowly slipping away. You were stunned into silence, unable to look away from the man beside you as he gave your hand a squeeze.
“We can continue to have those movie-nights together. The ones where we watch bad horror films that you still get scared at and hide into my arms to get away from the jumpscares,” He said as the two of you chuckled in harmony. “You can teach me how to cook those amazing dishes of yours... We could even get a puppy in the future...” He whispered to you, gradually getting closer. “Please Y/n. Give me a chance to be your second chance. I promise to take care of you,”
“What about a job?” You asked,
“There’s this newspaper that the town has, or my friend Jimin knows a publisher that you can reach out to. Maybe you can follow your old dream of becoming an author,” He encouraged as he spoke softly to you. “I know this is sudden, and we don’t know each other all that well, but we can get to know each other,” He finished, eagerly awaiting your answer.
You didn’t have to think twice before nodding your head, wrapping Namjoon in a hug. “You can be my second chance,”
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are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?
FROM THE PETALS COLLECTION
[pairing] :: yoongi x fem!reader
[genre] :: kiki delivery service au + fluff
[word count] :: 6.3k
Your eyes flicker open to a window of ocean and summer breeze drifting into your bedroom. One look at the sun tells you that you’ve overslept just a little bit, but the memory of your long travel the previous day justifies the action. You had to fly practically to the other side of the city to deliver a basket of freshly picked vegetables, and it had taken a lot out of you especially under the heat of the sun.
And yet, today is a new day.
You let out a sigh. “I should get up,” You tell yourself, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. The morning light has stretched across the space around you, highlighting the little desk and small collection of plants that overtake the remaining walls of your tiny bedroom. In the corner is your broom, looking as if it’s glimmering at the thought of another adventure for the day.
With a little rub to your eyes, you look down and see the little black cat curled up at your side. Despite its appearance of comfort, the black cat has it’s big navy colored eyes fixated on you. As if it had been watching you for a little while. “Finally decided to get up,” The cat notes, also pushing itself up into a sitting position.
Your fingers go behind your back, curl together, and stretch at the muscles of your shoulder. “Give me a break, Tobio,” You say, now moving to bring your hands up and over your head. “We had a long day yesterday.”
At long last do you push back your blankets. You slide your feet down onto the carpet below and continue with the rest of your preparations. You slip on the heavy black dress you have been wearing since your arrival to the city. Fingers gather into the strains of your hair, pulling half of it into a ponytail to keep it out of your face.
You run a hand through your hair, deeming is acceptable because you immediately make your way towards the bedroom door. “Tobio, I’m going to the shop now!” You call over your shoulder, looking over to find that your cat has settled himself comfortably at your windowsill. At your calling, however, the cat leaps over the ledge and makes his way over to where you’re standing. Tobio climbs up your frame, setting himself atop your shoulder, prepared for the day.
With your black cat settled, you open the bedroom door and continue down a small hallway. Every few steps is a small window overlooking more of the ocean and cityscape below you, a little vase of plants or flowers growing on each sill. The occasional photo hangs on the empty spaces—a little girl riding her bike, a small family enjoying a picnic, a couple at a beach, that same little girl now with pigtails with you wrapped underneath her arm. Closed doors also line the hallway, all closed and leading to different parts of the house. You brush past all of them. The hallway ends, opening up into a kitchen with more sunlight pouring in through the windows. The stove is off but a pot still rests atop. It must have been used to make some morning tea.
The emptiness of the upstairs apartment unit gives little indication about where your roommate is. At the end of the kitchen is an incline of stairs that go down, one that you follow and open the door at the end of the stairs. The door reveals a flower shop: the cashiers station in the back, rows of different colored flowers and types along the middle, and windows across the entire front of the store.
The crowd for the morning is light, just one or two people strolling through the different aisles. The quietness is interrupted by the movement near the cashier.
The little girl from the photographs stands behind the counter. She’s not a little girl anymore, and her hair is no longer in pigtails—she holds herself as an adult. She even talks like one too, as she opens her mouth to scold you. “You overslept.”
You sigh. “Not you too, Karly.” From your shoulder, Tobio snorts something underneath his breath. You join her behind the counter, grabbing a bundle of daisies that most likely had come from the morning delivery. “You know how awful my delivery was yesterday! The grandmother made me stay for over an hour so she could tell about all the vegetables she had received and how amazing her granddaughter was for growing them all! Do you realize how exhausting it is to hear about cucumbers over and over again?”
“Well, do you know how exhausting it is to fill out all your order forms for you because you slept through the opening routine?” Karly returns, not looking at you. Her gaze is too focused on counting the cash in the register. “For your information, it’s very exhausting.”
You put down the daisies for a second to turn your attention towards the basket of ‘to be completed’ order forms. Raising an eyebrow, you reach your hand into the basket to pull out—!
“Two order forms,” You report, turning to glare at your roommate. “It was exhausting to fill out two order forms?”
“So exhausting,” Karly repeats, but a glance at you makes you immediately see the smirk across her lips. You have half the mind to throw the order forms at her, but their value for your business keeps you from doing such a thing. Instead, you nudge her with your shoulder before turning your attention back to the order forms. Of the two, one required an immediate delivery while the other one could be delivered in the later afternoon. Knowing these deadlines helps you construct a mental schedule for the day. “So how does your day look today?”
You shrug, looking over the order form requiring immediate attention. “Same old.” You brush past Karly away to enter the apartment unit once more, climbing the stairs and pacing towards your bedroom at the end of the hall. You quickly grab your broom from the corner and make your way back towards the shop.
The door at the bottom of the stairs opens as you approach the kitchen. It’s Karly. “Your favorite customer is here!” She exclaims, broad grin on her face—the kind of grin that shows that she knows something you don’t.
You frown, playing the broom on your shoulder. A favorite customer? You can’t think of anyone you prefer over the others… “What are you talking about?” You ask, making your way down the stairs. “I don’t have a favorite…” You trail off as soon as you enter the flower shop and see a very familiar figure lingering amongst the flowers. Just as it always does, the words get lodged in your throat and everything around you feels warm suddenly. “Min Yoongi!” You exclaim.
He looks good today with his black sweatshirt and skinny jeans—although you’re sure the boy could show up in a garbage bag and still manage to render you this way. His hair is fluffy, falling across his forehead that looks like he had just run a towel through it. Or his hands. Either mental image is nice to think about.
Min Yoongi is the shy boy from across the street who was one of the first to greet you after you landed in the city all these years ago. He had been curious about your broom and your background, intrigued by the thought of you being a witch. He had been a lot younger back then, naturally, wide-eyed and shy. He’s still like that: wide-eyed and shy, that is. Except nowadays, he’s grown in certain features that may have previously made him lanky and awkward. He’s taller, older, cuter. It’s a rather troubling thought, one that you more often than not do not spend too much time pondering.
Min Yoongi is a cute boy: a very cute boy you’ve known since you were thirteen. And yet the only thing you know about him is that he comes in practically every week to request your delivery services. Nothing more, nothing less. An occasional smile once in awhile, a breath of back-to-back conversation, but never anything beyond that. After all, Yoongi never bothers with something more meaningful, because he’s not interested. Right? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?
Karly’s raised eyebrow directed at you seems to be telling a different story—as do the actual words that come out of her mouth every time Yoongi comes by for a visit. But you ignore all those as you turn your attention to the boy. “Yoongi, hi,” You say, realizing a moment later that you had already said his name and had already technically greeted him.
Karly was definitely going to use this against you one day, as seen through the way she ducks her head to hide her snort.
Yoongi stands there, so unassuming and wide-eyed as he looks at you. He utters your name. “Hey,” He returns. He starts to make his way to the counter, already well accustomed with the delivery process you’ve created.
“How’s it going?” You ask, moving back behind the counter and pulling out an order form.
“It’s good, how about you?” Yoongi returns, noticing Tobio situated on the counter. “I see Tobio is doing well,” He says, reaching out to scratch the cat behind the ear. Tobio purrs at the gesture and you smile at that. Tobio doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’s enjoying himself—not that Yoongi would be able to understand Tobio’s comments anyways.
“He is,” You say. “We both basically knocked out after this long delivery we had to make. But we’re both good now.” You place the order form flat on the counter and take out a pen. “Alright, so what are we delivering today, Mr. Min?”
He gummy smiles at your formality, but he digs through the contents of his backpack and produces a small notebook from his backpack. “I just need to have this delivered to my friend,” He says, placing his hand atop the notebook. You stare at his fingers for a second too long. “It’s part of this thing we’re working on together and I just need to get his input for what’s written in here.” He takes his hand off the notebook.
You look at the object, a small black-bound book that looks worn from constant use and travel. Even just from the outside, the pages look pressed into and look so full of life that you cannot help but stare. Not that your usual deliveries for Yoongi were anything out of the ordinary, this feels like the first time Yoongi has asked you to deliver something he’s been working on.
“This thing looks like it's been through a lot,” You note quietly, picking up a pen and starting to fill out the form. You start with the name, and contents of the delivery: since both answers to those questions are situated in front of you.
“That’s because it has,” Yoongi answers with a smile that looks just a little smaller, just a little shyer. “I bring it with me everywhere. This thing is really important to me.”
The desire to ask about what could be so special that Yoongi feels the need to bring it with him everywhere feels too strong on your tongue. Yet, you elect to keep your mouth shut. It doesn’t seem right to ask something like that, especially during your job. “Sounds good,” You say instead, looking up and noticing that Yoongi’s gaze is still trained on you. “Who is the delivery going to?”
“A friend of mine, Kim Namjoon. He lives just over the river.” He looks down at the map you’ve got taped to the top of the counter. A tiny red pin sticks from the paper, nailed right into the current location of the flower shop. His eyes scan the map for a moment before his eyes find what he’s looking for, because he taps his finger on the surface. “Right here. He has a green roof, and lots of plants around the house. You’ll also see a wooden mailbox with his last name across it. Shouldn’t be too hard to notice.”
You take a mental note of these directions as you nod. “Alright then.” You take the notebook and slide it into one of the shipping envelops you have in the shop to keep certain packages and deliveries safe. “When do you need it delivered by?”
“Preferably just by the end of the day,” Yoongi says with the brush of his hand. “No rush, I know that you can be really busy sometimes.”
“It’s just part of the job,” You reply with a smile as you place the now fully completed order form in the basket. “Well, I’ll have this package delivered, Yoongi. Thank you for coming in. Pleasure doing business with you.”
Yoongi grins. “Likewise.” He utters your name, a beautiful sound that makes feel like the ground has just given up underneath your feet. “I’ll see you around?”
You nod. The sunlight seems to be streaming directly through the window. Why else would your face feel so warm all of a sudden? “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”
Yoongi stares at you for a moment longer before he nods, more to himself than to you, and turns around to exit the shop. You hear the ringing of the bell at the door signaling his departure, and yet you remain rooted to the ground, staring at the door.
Karly hits you on the back between your shoulders. “Okay, but what the fuck was that?”
You flash out of your trance pretty quickly and give your roommate a look. “What the fuck was what?”
She jerks her chin towards the door. “Is that what you call flirting?”
You turn hot at the word. “Flirting?” You repeat. “What are you talking about? There was no flirting. In fact, I think you need your eyes checked. Where was the flirting? I wasn’t flirting, and Yoongi definitely wasn’t flirting. No one was flirting. I was just doing my job—stop that!” You push at her shoulder when you realize she’s looking at you like you just pissed in her cereal.
“You know, for a smart witch, you can be really dull sometimes.”
“What are you talking about?”
Karly glares at you. “I'm talking about how Yoongi is looking at you like you personally flew up into the sky to hang up all the stars and you do the exact same, and yet you’re both talking like you’ve never had a casual conversation with a human being before!”
“Not this again,” You mumble under your breath. “Karly, I’m not sure how much I need to tell you this. Yoongi isn’t into me that way. We’ve known each other for so long. If he was interested, we would have had a conversation outside of any new magic tricks I’ve learned or me asking him what kind of package he wants delivered this time.”
“C’mon, even I can tell you what kind of package he wants to deliver—specifically to you—!”
Tobio perks his head up from the counter. “She has a point—!”
“Not you too!” You snap to the black cat on the counter.
"Okay, okay, fine, I”ll stop," She says, backing up with both hands raised in surrender. “I’ll drop it. But I’m serious! I really think you should consider the idea of Yoongi liking you!”
“Are we really talking about this again?” You scowl, moving back from around the counter to collect the package that required an immediate delivery. It’s a basket of freshly picked strawberries, from a mother to her daughter. “I don’t have time for this. Tobio, I’m leaving!”
Tobio meows in acknowledgment as he leaps from the counter to your shoulder.
“You have time on the ride over to think about Yoongi’s package—!” Karly calls from the shop as you shut the door to the shop before the girl can finish her sentence.
You sigh, cheeks still warm from the encounter and the following conversation. “I can’t believe this,” You mumble underneath your breath.
“I think you should keep him,” Tobio says, licking his paw and running the paw through the fur at his head. “He’s nice. He smiles at you the way Karly smiles at her flowers. It’s a little sad on Karly’s part, but it should prove something.”
“I don’t want to hear about this anymore,” You protest, instead choosing to shift your attention to the broom in your hand. You ready it, straddling the handle of the broom, before you leap off into the air around you. Nevermind the tiny smile that pitches the corner of your lips the entire time.
Min Yoongi is in the shop the next day, hands in the pocket of a denim jacket. Karly looks like she’s about to burst, with her lips pressed together and her wide-eyes observing Yoongi’s wandering. Tobio doesn’t look too far off from saying another snarky comment.
“He usually comes in once a week, what is happening—!” Karly hisses in your ear. You immediately cut her off with an elbow to the gut.
“Hey Yoongi,” You greet loudly, hoping to drown out Karly’s coughing. “What brings you in here? I thought you only come by once a week.”
Yoongi looks at you for a moment before he ducks his head a little, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t know you kept track.”
Karly kicks your ankle. She gives you a look, her eyes flashing. You swallow, your fingers immediately curling into the strands of your hair. “W-Well, it’s just that… hard not to do that for you.”
Yoongi presses his lips together. “Is that so?” He asks, not really looking at you. There’s some pink dusting along his cheeks.
You feel warm again. Why on earth did you think to say that? Sure, yes, you’ve known about Yoongi’s weekly visits for years but saying it like that? Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?
“Anyways,” You bring up again after a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Since you’re here so soon after your last, uh, visit, it must be urgent. Something I can help you with?”
“Oh, right.” Yoongi blinks, seeming to remember what he was doing here. He takes out an envelope, something small enough to just hold a letter. “I just need this to be dropped off at Namjoon’s house—the guy whose house you had to go to yesterday. It’s just some updates to the notebook I had given him. I also need you to bring the notebook back here. Namjoon already knows to give it to you.”
You nod at that, smiling as you take the envelope. “Been away from your baby for too long, huh?” You ask, looking back up at him.
Yoongi joins in your laughter, a small breathless sound that includes a slight shake of his shoulders. “Honestly, it feels like a piece of myself has been missing.”
You pull out an order form from the counter, already moving to fill out the different questions. “Do you…” You start, stopping yourself for a moment, realizing that the question you have in mind probably isn’t either appropriate or welcoming. You trail off, thinking that Yoongi would ignore it or not care enough to take notice of your voice cutting itself off.
“Do I what?” Yoongi asks. He’s leaning against the counter now, arms resting on the surface, close enough that you can see the glimmer of curiosity and encouragement in his eyes. You could pull away, but you don’t. Instead, you smile and look back down at your work.
“Oh, nothing, I just… I was going to ask you something, but I realize it might be too personal. Or intrusive.”
Yoongi tilts his head, some of the black strands of his hair falling across his forehead. “We’ve known each other since we were thirteen. C’mon, no question is too personal or intrusive. You can ask.”
You ponder this for a moment, before you finally decide to give in. You place your pen on the desk and look up to face the boy once more. He’s still looking at you. “I just wanted to know what was so important about the notebook you want back. It seems to mean a lot to you, especially because you carry it around with you.”
“Ah, that’s a good question,” He replies, taping his chin and looking around the shop for a moment. He returns his gaze back to you. “It’s my writing journal,” He explains.
“Are you a writer?”
“Well, kind of. Not really. Actually, um.” He goes back to scratching his ear, biting his lip. “I’m more of a songwriter. I like writing music.”
You grin. “That’s pretty cool. What kind of music?”
Yoongi pauses. “Just, personal lyrics, I guess? I don’t really do anything with the lyrics—I haven’t turned it into actual music yet. That’s what my friend Namjoon is around for, we’re helping each other out. I just needed help going over some lyrics I had written, so now that he’s done I need the notebook back to keep going with my work.”
You nod. “Totally understandable. I’ll have the notebook back later today, so you can come by tomorrow to pick it up if that’s okay.”
Yoongi smiles. “More than okay. Thank you for doing this.”
“I’m just doing my job, Mr. Min,” You say. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He nods. “It’s a date.” He turns around to leave the shop, the bell ringing overhead. As well as in your head.
The trace of a smile is still on your lips as you place the envelope in your bag and exit the space of the counter. Karly is in the middle of the store, organizing a small collection of lilies that have just come in that morning. She hasn’t said anything about the encounter, surprisingly, but the thought quickly disappears when you see the cat-like grin across her face.
You tap her lightly on the head with the handle of your broom.
“Hey!” Karly exclaims, laughing as she watches you make your way towards the exit of the store. “He literally said it was a date, Y/N, you can’t argue with that!”
“He’s just being silly, alright, goodbye!” You exclaim, shouldering open the door of the shop. You take a glance at the cat on your shoulder, who has been strangely quiet during the interaction. The wide eyes of the cat, though, do not go unseen by you. “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I wasn’t saying anything!” Tobio complains. He stays quiet for a moment. “Although he did say it was a date. He looked excited to see you tomorrow, too—!”
“Alright, enough,” You say, taping the cat on the nose before readying yourself on your broom. It’s a lot easier to take off now—you remember when you struggled a lot in your younger years, how much concentration it took to fly and stay off the ground. Nowadays, it comes like second nature to you as your broom moves towards the sky. There was no need to go over the map, since you still remember the route you had taken yesterday to reach the home of Kim Namjoon. The summer breeze is a little cooler today, a little stronger, as it brushes through your hair and your clothing.
Today, you spare yourself the momentary distraction in staring out at the ocean in front of you, the bright blue and the line separating sea from sky.
Tobio nudges into your cheek with his head. “We’re coming up on the river,” He tells you, and you look down to see the upcoming river from memory.
“Awesome,” You say, passing over the river and beginning a descent back towards the ground. You quickly make out the green roof, the greenhouse in the background, the pathway of weeds. You land on the sidewalk in front of the house, smiling at the terrariums situated along the porch. Kim Namjoon is painted on the mailbox.
You make your way up the pathway towards the house, knocking on the brown door. After a few seconds, it opens to reveal the man himself. He’s a little taller than Yoongi, fluffy cardigan across his broad shoulders, black framed glasses, and a polite smile across his face.
“Ah, Y/N!” He greets. “My favorite delivery girl. Come in.”
“Mr. Kim, I’m the only delivery girl,” You say, placing your broom on the porch and stepping into Namjoon’s house. It’s a small little cottage space, lots of windows and light streaming and highlighting bookshelves and typewriters. Namjoon is a writer, something you learned quickly yesterday from the first impression and from a small conversation with him. He’s actually published a book or two, but lately he’s been diving more into poetry and lyrics—hence, this is where his friendship with Yoongi comes into play.
“Here’s the notebook Yoongi needs,” Namjoon says, picking up the aforementioned black notebook from a low table and handing it to you. “He should be happy to see it again.”
You laugh, taking it from Namjoon. “He was already going through some separation anxiety.”
Namjoon smiles at that. “You’ve known Yoongi for awhile, right?”
You nod. “Since we were young. He lives across the street from me, so he was one of the first people I met when I first moved into the city.”
“That’s cute,” He says, that smile still present on his lips. It’s the kind of smile Karly has given you for years in response to Yoongi’s weekly visits. “He does talk about you a lot. He’s pretty quiet though and keeps to himself for the most part. Although I’m sure you know that already.”
You laugh, nodding again. “I do. But he’s really sweet.” You look down, unable to see the smile growing on Namjoon’s face as you dig through your bag to produce the folded envelope Yoongi had given you yesterday. “He asked me to give you this.”
Namjoon takes the envelope. “Thanks. Hold on a second so I can get your payment, okay?”
You watch as Namjoon turns around and takes his leave into another room, leaving you alone in this miniature library. Books cover one wall, and you glance over at the titles before looking back down at the notebook in your hands. You wonder what sort of lyrics Yoongi writes, how much of his heart he pours into pages.
You look down at it for a few more seconds before you shake your head. It would be rude and frankly, inappropriate to look through something so personal without permission. Regardless of your relationship with Yoongi, regardless of his openness to share things with you, this would probably be crossing the line. You hold the notebook by the spine, the opening to the pages facing the ground as you move to place the notebook into your bag.
Until a small slip of paper falls from between the pages.
You blink at the paper, immediately kneeling down to pick it up and slide it back into the notebook. However, the writing at the top of the folded slip makes you pause. It’s your name. You pick it up.
You hear the growing sound of footsteps from the other room, signalling Namjoon’s return. Quickly, you stuff the paper into your pocket and move to slide the notebook into your bag. Namjoon emerges just as you’re gathering the signature booklet. “This should cover it,” He says, handing you the money.
You pocket it. “Thanks a lot, Namjoon. If you can just sign this, that’ll be great.”
He takes the pen from you, signing on the dotted line. “Well, Y/N, it was good to see you again.” He says as he leads you back towards the front door of his house. “I’m assuming Yoongi will come by the shop tomorrow to pick up the notebook?”
You pick up the broom from the porch. “Most likely. I doubt he can handle another day without it.”
“Sounds like a date,” Namjoon says, walking you to the sidewalk outside of his house. There’s a teasing curve to his voice as you situate yourself on the broom. It’s a good natured noise, one that is still present in the air as you turn back to look at Namjoon. Maybe you would ask what he meant by that, if he had known Yoongi said the same thing. However, by the time you turn to look at Namjoon, the man is already making his way back to his house. Effectively ending the conversation
You turn back and float towards the sky once more.
“Namjoon said what Yoongi said earlier,” Tobio notes in your ear once the pair of you reach a suitable height to cruise back home. “What do you think that means?”
You sigh. “I don’t know, Tobio,” You say. The weight of the note in your dress pocket feels like it’s expanding, drawing your attention more and more to what could possibly be on that note the longer you’re in the sky. For a moment, you think maybe the note had been from Namjoon—but it takes less than a second to debunk that thought. You’ve seen Yoongi’s handwriting for years. It was definitely his note to you. But what could it be?
You don’t say anything, you don’t admire the view. You just function on autopilot, directing your broom back over the river and allowing yourself to land outside your house without a thought. From the distance, you can make out Karly having a conversation with a customer, laughter evident in her face as she wraps a bundle of hyacinths. You watch the interaction for a moment, before you make your way around the shop, situating yourself at the side of the building.
“You’re not gonna go in?” Tobio asks, eying you with a touch of concern and curiosity. “Still thinking about that note? It came from his notebook… maybe he doesn’t want you to read it.”
You take the note out of your pocket. It’s haphazardly folded, crumbled slightly as if he had rolled the paper into a ball before folding it into the uneven square you see before you. “Probably,” You say, turning it over in your hand. “But why would he even write something like this? If he wanted to tell me something, he could just come over and say it. It’s not like distance is a big problem in our ability to communicate.”
Tobio licks at his paw. “Maybe it’s something he can’t say to you.”
“Hm…” You hum, staring at the note, a flash of his penmanship catching your attention. A part of the note that his folding didn’t cover up. There’s a line drawn across the words, but it’s clear what he had written. Coffee shop.
Your narrow your eyes, fingers moving to unfold the note without a second thought. What kind of note would include your name and the mention of a coffee shop?
It’s a whole page, written like a letter. Your name is written at the top, messy flowers and stars doodled around the scribble.
A few verses of something are written directly underneath your name.
I’d touch the sky and cross the field, if you were waiting on the other side
A line is crossed through it.
You make me feel like I am everything/Teaching me to be the universe/Drawing me the stars and galaxies beyond/All along the palm of my hand
Another line through the words.
This is only a field of flowers rippling in the wind/But like morning light like it scatters the night/To make the day worth living
And another, but the line doesn’t erase the imagery that sprouts in your heart. It does not erase the corners of your lips upturning, because as small as these lines are, it feels like a window to Yoongi’s world. To have your name associated with these lines of hope and desire feels overwhelming and comforting at the same time.
Underneath the words is a letter. Your name.
I’m writing this in the shop right now. There’s a little bench Karly put down, and I think she’s thinking of starting a little cafe in this spot one day. I hope she does it. There’s something comforting about this place, and I think she knows that. You’re here today too. You aren’t doing deliveries today. Today is Sunday, so that makes sense. I’m glad for days like these, when you aren’t being whisked away on your broomstick, traveling hundreds of miles a day to bring people together and make everyone feel connected. You’re like the sunlight, bringing happiness across the sky, down the river, through the windows. Even just right now, you’re just standing behind the counter radiating. You’re wearing the apron Karly made you wear, with these little flowers embroidered across the front and looking so fucking cute.
Moments like these realize how important you are to me, and why I keep coming into the shop. I do need to make deliveries, but I do also like seeing your face on the mornings I come in. I’ve always wondered what you would do if I asked you out. I’d take you to a coffee shop and buy you any pastry you want. Anything to light up your eyes. I’d take you on a walk around the city, show you the world from my perspective. And maybe we’d be able to see the world from your perspective. These are daydreams I have, and every single one I conjure up of the two of us are very important to me. I don’t think I would ever have the courage to share those hopes with you. For now, I like the talks we have when I come in. I like the talks we have when you drop by. I like you. I want these things to happen, as I have ever since I met you.
If I can muster up the courage to ask you out one day.
You don’t realize that you’re in a trance, staring at the letter, smiling to yourself, until you hear the bell ring from the shop. You snap out of it, folding the paper back together just as you watch that same customer from earlier leave. As soon as the customer is on the sidewalk, you make your own way up the pathway and enter the shop. The bell rings overhead.
Karly is at the counter, arranging a bouquet—an explosion of purples and pinks. “Oh hey!” She greets upon seeing you. “I didn’t see you land. How was your delivery?”
You smile. “We’ll see tomorrow.”
The shop opens to a bright sunny morning, and you’re drumming your fingers. The place is empty, as it usually is right at opening. This is expected. What is unexpected is how anxious you feel about what is supposed to be happening later today. How much later, you aren’t sure. Maybe that’s why you’re so nervous about the ordeal.
“Your boyfriend will show up eventually,” Karly butts in, currently situated in the middle of the store with her own personal broom in hand. She’s dusting the floor. “He did say it was a date, after all.”
You flinch, blinking out of your trance. “I’m not waiting for Yoongi. And just because he said it was a date doesn’t mean anything.”
Karly’s lips twist up. “I never mentioned a name.”
Your eyes widen, flush immediately coating your cheeks. You pout, looking back towards the door. “Shut up.”
Karly’s giggling is the only thing that is heard for a little bit, until you catch sight of the familiar figure making his way up the pathway towards the shop. The way you straighten up and fix your hair happens much quicker than you are willing to admit.
“Morning, Yoongi,” You greet as Yoongi enters the shop, white t-shirt and denim jeans and an undercut that makes you want to cry. How could someone look so pretty? “Nice haircut.”
He stills at that, rubbing the back of his head as if he hadn’t expected you to notice. “T-Thanks,” He stammers, making his way towards you. “You look nice too,” He says, gesturing vaguely to the bow you’ve put at the top of your head. “Your hairpiece looks cute.”
You flush deeper. You had forgotten you put it on. It came with the box of bonsai trees that came in this morning. “Thank you,” You say, choosing to dig around underneath the counter to find what you had been preparing to give over since yesterday. “Your notebook.” You produce the thing, gently sliding it over to him. “In wonderful condition. Namjoon took good care of it.”
Yoongi takes the notebook, looking pleased with himself. “Nah, I think the credit goes more to you.” He smiles, eyes taking in your appearance once more.
You shrug. “Just… doing my job, Min Yoongi. I’ll see you around?”
He hesitates at that, looking like he wants to say something. Your heart skips a beat. He, however, just returns back to his shy smile. “Of course. See you around.” He turns around, making his way back towards the door.
You almost bite your own tongue, almost keep your words to yourself. The paper weighs like a lead in your dress pocket.
“Min Yoongi!” You call.
He stops, whirling around. “Yes?”
You take in a breath, looking at Karly, looking at Tobio. For two different creatures, they both wear a similar expression of exasperation, of urge, of encouragement. Swallowing, you reach into the pocket of your dress and produce the folded slip of paper. You hold it up. “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”
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handcrafted | heartbeat 1
When you put out a roommates ad for your newly purchased house, the only requirement you set out had been cleanliness.
The last thing you’d expected was for the 7 most eligible bachelors of your university to come calling.
Throw in school, crazy fan girls and the most sought for men suddenly chasing after you with heart eyes, comes a college experience of a lifetime.
Would it be so wrong to want them all?
summary | they needed a place to stay. You needed money. You are so fucking screwed. They want you to screw them instead.
“I’m sorry,” comes a high-pitched, exasperated whine for the umpteenth time.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say, suitcase dropping unceremoniously onto the gravel floor with a sad thud. You stare up at the building with dread, a knot forming in your stomach. Now that you think of it, it does seem to loom overhead rather ominously. And you liked the design so much, too.
“You’re telling me that I just dropped half a million into a house and now I have no one to room with and no way to pay off my mortgage?”
“It was last minute,” Ahri tries to explain feebly, but you close your eyes.
“So let me get this straight,” you say slowly, sucking in a long breath, “All seven of you magically got offered the very same jobs you have right now … in the same city?”
“…Yes?” She coughs. “Same company, just a different branch. And, uh, just not this city.”
You tap your foot impatiently.
“___?” You can already imagine the way your best friend is cringing, voice meek as she asks mildly, “Are you okay?”
“Just peachy,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag your luggage to the front.
With the autumn leaves stirring in your wake, every step is heavy and dredged with defeat as you make your way to the coffee shop on campus.
“I’m sure there are still plenty of people looking for rent,” Ahri says sympathetically, rubbing your shoulder as you slump over the table.
“How am I going to find seven people to fill the spaces before the semester starts?” You wail, banging your head against the glass. “Classes start in a week and I need people now so I can pay the obnoxiously inflated mortgage.”
“Are you sure—” Jisoo starts, but you throw up a hand instantly. “Never gonna go down that alley. If I have to, I’ll sell the house and live on the streets. Since you’re all basically abandoning me anyway.”
“Not all of us,” Ryujin reminds you as she takes a seat, sliding your signature drink across.
“Yeah, just 90% of us,” Ahri supplies helpfully. You glare at her playfully as you sit up, taking a tentative sip from the cup. Letting out a sigh, you lean back into your seat.
“No, but in all seriousness. How am I going to find replacement roommates in time?” You trace the lid absently, propping your chin up with the other hand.
“We still have a week before we leave for our co-op terms. We can help you out until then. We’ll find people,” Jisoo promises. She’s already pulled out her phone, tapping away at the multitude of chats she’s in to put out word for you.
“I’ll ask a friend to make a mock up of an ad,” Ryujin offers. Ahri nods vigorously.
“Okay. Thanks guys, you’re the realest,” you say gratefully. Perhaps all hope is not yet lost, you conclude rather miserably.
Despite the collective efforts of all your braincells, skills and networking circles pooled together, the week is drawing to a close. Every decline is for the same reason: it’s just too late.
Between your unpacking, shopping, arranging furniture and rearranging décor (with the help of Dara, the interior design major, of course), suddenly it’s Thursday and you’re looking pretty fucking doomed.
“How is it everything fell through so fast?”
“Mhmm. You tell me,” you say absentmindedly as you straighten a painting.
You can feel Dara’s amusement as she readjusts the frame you were fiddling with. “Stop touching. It’s fine.”
“It’s crooked,” you protest.
“You know, that reminds me,” she says thoughtfully as she steps back. “Jiyong’s been working on his new album, and there’s these new singers he’s scouted out. It might be a long shot since classes are about to start, but he’s talked about how much they complain about their residence. I can ask if they’re still up to moving.”
“Yes, please,” you nod. “It honestly doesn’t matter anymore. I just need money. I don’t even know why this was a good idea in the first place.”
“It was a good idea. When we were all going to be here,” Dara amends.
You exhale. “Fuck me in the ass.”
“Uh … who are you?” You blink, cocking your head to the side curiously.
There’s a … person standing at your door, awkwardly gripping a suspiciously familiar flyer. He’s … someone you’ve never spoken to before. He’s grown his hair out this summer, brushing away the curls as they frame his big, doe eyes. The scar on his cheek is hidden by the makeshift ebony curtain. He’s clearly been busy, veins and muscles rippling under golden skin virtually straining to explode from that tight pair of black jeans he’s wearing.
You are not charmed. You are not charmed. You are not fucking charmed.
“Um … are you ___?”
You nod, waiting for an explanation. The bags in your hands are getting heavier with every passing second and you silently beg him to hurry it along before your arms snap clean off.
“M-my hyungs asked me to check you out,” he stutters.
A beat, and then –
“Ah! I-I mean check the place out, not you, that would be weird, why would I ever check you out,” he corrects quickly. You raise an eyebrow warily. The sheet crumples in his whitening fist.
“I-I mean I check you out all the time so that’s not really new, i-it’s just y-you have vacancy right,” he’s word-vomiting, cheeks ripening furiously and he looks like he’s about ready for the ground to swallow him up.
“We want to move in,” he practically screams. You recoil, the bags hitting your thigh painfully.
This is … unexpected. Every time you’ve ever encountered him on campus, he’s never been so … clumsy. Is clumsy the right word to describe this?
“Oooookay,” you say. “Yeah, I can give you a tour and answer any questions you have, just let me unload first.”
“O-oh, I can take those for you,” he stumbles over to relieve you of your physical burden. He ducks his head, scores of pink still marring his expression as you unlock the door.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” he says shyly, slipping off his sneakers and trailing behind you to set the groceries on the counter as you indicated.
You shrug off your jacket before rummaging in one of the bags to pull out a bottle of banana milk. His eyes light up instantly when you slide it over the counter to him.
“Thank you, noona!” He tears open the lid and gulps down the concoction eagerly.
Noona? You squint. Are you really older than him? You’ll have to check later.
“So will your … hyungs be joining us today, or would you guys like to book another time to come altogether?”
Just as he’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to reply, the doorbell rings.
“Dara,” you hiss into the phone, cupping the microphone close to you as you huddle in one of the upper floor bathrooms. “You didn’t tell me there were seven of them.”
“Huh? But wasn’t seven the exact number you needed?” She answers innocently.
“You said some and singers! None of them are singers or new! They’re the fucking guys from the Calvin Klein underwear ads and that one Gucci perfume commercial!”
“Technically, they are singers. A couple of them are composers and they all have really good voices. According to Jiyong anyway, no one else has had the privilege of hearing them,” she states.
“I’m going to die,” you say flatly. You’re pacing, practically wearing the new carpet you just bought. “I am going to die a horrible, horrible death. Fangirls will hunt me down, I’m going to get death threats and I’ll have to live in the shadows for the rest of my life. There are a lot of rich people here, and they’re going to hire hitmen and I’ll –”
“– Die a horrible death, yes, I heard the first time,” Dara cuts you off dryly.
Your eyes widen. “You knew!” You accuse. “How could you do this to me?!”
“___,” she sighs suddenly, sounding disappointed. “This was the best I could do, okay? It was the perfect opportunity. Look, just go downstairs, gauge their characters and all that jazz, and if you still think it’s not a good fit, just tell them that and keep looking. You’re not locked in on this.”
You rest your head on the wall. “… Yeah. Okay. True. Thanks a lot, Dara.”
“Of course. I always got your back. Let me know how things go and what you decide,” she reassures you.
You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, phone gripped tightly in your hand, before groaning aloud. Splashing water on your face and smoothing out your disgruntled locks, you make your way back to the living room.
It’s awkward. Oh fuck, it’s so awkward you think you’ll die of sheer awkwardness instead.
There are seven men smiling up at you, all crammed in the three sets of sofas you’d recently purchased. They have such long legs. One of them has really broad shoulders.
“I know you,” you say stupidly, pointing at the man with dimples. He waves.
“___,” he says pleasantly. “How has your summer been?”
“You were my TA,” you continue, finger quivering. You’re downright flabbergasted. “Isn’t there like a … like a rule or something against TAs moving in with previous students?”
“We never officially met,” he replies smoothly. Why the fuck is he still smiling?! This is so freaky. You can’t do this. Holy shit.
“In fact, the TAs for that course were never formally introduced. We only marked your exams in random groups, nothing more. I can’t say I’ve had the privilege of marking your work.”
Liar. You know he’s marked one of your essays. You can easily tell his thick strokes and thoughtful feedback scrawled in the margins apart from all the other cursive nonsense the others liked to write.
You move on. “You,” you say, examining the peculiar orange locks and disappearing eye smile. “You’re one of the dancers. You and … you,” the one next to him nods, his grin heart-shaped.
“You make music,” the one with mint hair and catlike eyes. What is with them and their rainbow styled colours? He shrugs noncommittally.
“Photos,” the one with a boxy beam. The camera looped around his neck was pretty self-explanatory, but you’ve seen him around.
“You … are old,” his plush lips instantly downturn.
“Excuse me?” He harrumphs. “Is that how you speak to your elders?” There’s no real bite to his tone, just a tinge of annoyance. The rest of the boys are hiding laughs.
“Didn’t you graduate a while ago?” You ask instead.
He uncrosses his arms, slumping. “… Yes,” he says guiltily. “I’m getting my Masters.”
“Hyung doesn’t like being called old,” the one still clutching the milk explains, mirth dancing in his eyes. “He’s old, but not obsolete. Not yet, anyway.”
“Shut it,” he snaps, pouting. He certainly doesn’t act old, you remark silently, stifling a giggle.
“We should do formal introductions,” the dimpled boy offers.
“My name is Kim Namjoon. I’m a Philosophy and History double major. I do TA for a couple courses.”
“Kim Taehyung! I like taking photos, so photography. Obviously. I’m thinking about picking up media arts or something on the side, though.”
“Jeon Jungkook. Graphic design and Photography.”
“Contemporary dance, Park Jimin.”
“Performing dance, Jung Hoseok! My stage name is J-Hope.”
“Music composition. Min Yoongi.”
“I’m Kim Seokjin, though you’ve probably already heard of me,” he smirks, puffing his chest out proudly. “Film and Acting.”
“Oh!” You say, nodding very seriously. “You were in that one fried chicken commercial, right?”
Seokjin stares, unimpressed even as the boys are falling into pieces beside him. “It was for the new Palisade.”
“Oh. They’re cool, too,” you agree. You don’t know much about cars.
“I’m ___. Do you guys want a tour?”
“So? Spill the beans!”
“On what?” You quirk an eyebrow as you flick through the menu. Ahri looks like she’s almost bouncing from her seat in excitement.
“Were they as handsome as they say?”
“What do people say about them, now?” The menu hasn’t changed, this restaurant is just as overpriced and basic as it’s been the past two years. You don’t even know why you bothered opening the damn thing. With a sigh, you toss it to the side.
“I heard Jimin looks like an angel when he sleeps. Rumour has it, once you’ve kissed Jin once, you can never go back. Have you seen his lips? God, they’re to die for,” Ahri moans.
You give her a look. “You’re kidding. And you believe that crap? They look like regular people. Albeit yes, handsome, really good looking people.”
“Hi, are you ready to order?” A soft, timid voice interrupts your gossip session.
“Jungkook,” you say, surprised. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
Okay, fuck, you have to admit he looks so very delicious with that rumpled look of his, ruffled chestnut hair, the return of those killer black jeans, paired with a fitted black turtleneck. A red apron is tied around his unfairly thin waist.
“Ah,” he says, scratching his neck. Already reddening as he fiddles with the pad in his hand. “Um. I just started today, actually. I needed money … you know, for-for rent and stuff.”
“Oh no,” you say immediately, concern colouring your tone. “Was the rate too high? If it’s unaffordable for you, we can always figure something else out—”
“No, no!” Jungkook says hastily. “It’s not that. I was planning on getting another job anyway, regardless of where I ended up. I’d have to pay rent no matter where I lived.”
“Oh,” you nod. “In that case …”
Jungkook excuses himself as soon as your orders are scrawled down, still seemingly unable to meet your gaze for long.
“He’s just so cute,” Ahri swoons. You choke down the bile that threatens to hurl itself up from the mere sight of her exaggerated love struck expression. “Uh huh.”
“Okay, so what did you do? The tea, the tea,” she demands.
“There is no tea,” you throw your hands up. “I gave them the standard tour, copies of the lease to take home, but they said they wanted it so they signed them on the spot, paid the deposit and everything. It was super quick and they all just left right after. That’s it.”
“Wow, they must’ve been desperate,” she comments. “Though the house is really nice. It’s huge, totally worth the price you paid. I’m glad they came through, though. It would’ve been a death sentence to pay it all off yourself.”
“Yeah, especially since I don’t start my own co-op term till next year,” you grouch.
“Mhm. All that aside, it’s time you started living above that rock of yours,” Ahri says seriously. She pulls out her phone as the food arrives.
You push aside the trickle of disappointment that filters in when the waiter that delivers your respective meals isn’t Jungkook.
“Crash course on your hot new roommates,” she starts, passing the device to you. An unfamiliar YouTube page is opened to a video.
“Jung Hoseok and Park Jimin. Hoseok’s stage name is J-Hope, named after his sunny disposition. He has a YouTube series called Hope on the Street. Jimin runs it with him, and the two do all kinds of dance challenges and covers. They’re also the Co-Presidents of the school’s dance committee. They join the national competitions every year since they took over and have been winning ever since.”
You would think it would be a bit disconcerting seeing the two very diverse dance styles on two very different people on stage, but they don’t fight. They complement each other so brilliantly, it’s hard to tear your eyes away. You can’t decide who to watch, just sitting back to observe the entire frame.
“Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung. They have a vlog series called House of Bangtan. Mostly just random shit with the other guys, but it’s super entertaining and hilarious. Like the kind of content you know is genuine and makes you willing to die just for a chance to be a part of it. That’s how you know the seven of them are really good friends despite the age gaps. They also do challenges and giveaways.”
You’re watching Jin lose a game of charades, and he looks like he’s about to blow a fuse. The camera shakes uncontrollably as Jungkook runs way from his hyung, who’s screaming bloody murder behind him, chasing with the rubber duck he used to cheat with. Sore loser, the youngest mouths to the camera with a grin.
“Jungkook also owns a personal channel called Golden Closet Films. Pretty self-explanatory, but he makes movie clips of stuff like Hoseok and Jimin practising for the showcase and the like. He used to be part of the varsity volleyball team, but had to give it up when he tore his Achilles’ heel. It was pretty devastating for the school, too, since he was one of the best players. Taehyung has an Instagram page full of pictures for his photography collection. They’re super aesthetic. He goes under Vante.”
You scroll through the page, and you can definitely see why he’s so sought for by students and so famous in the department. He has a wicked eye and thinks so vividly outside the box. You also vaguely remember Jungkook’s impromptu early retirement being a huge deal when it happened. You were never really caught up with the school’s news, more academic driven, but you had your share of intramural sports. You imagine ‘devastating’ is a rather underwhelming way of describing that kind of pain.
“Kim Seokjin, or Jin he likes to be called, is a Films major and he’s done a bunch of commercials and modelling gigs. He loves food though, and he has a cooking channel plus an Instagram page. He’s the campus Heartthrob. He’s had that title for over five years. I mean, who can blame him? Do you see the man? He’s fucking cut from the image of perfection!”
Yeah, okay. He does look fucking good. And his cooking looks amazing. You rub your mouth discreetly, making sure you’re not actually physically drooling. You have food right in front of you, for fuck’s sake!
“Min Yoongi, he’s actually the same age as Jin but started late. He used to be an underground rapper by the name of Gloss. Now he works at the studio here with Jiyong and Slow Rabbit. Rumour has it he has a composing deal lined up with BigHit when he graduates. He goes by Suga now. He has a Soundcloud for distributing his self-composed music. I heard he also raps, but no one knows his stage name for that.”
This man is talented. His lyricism is fucking beautiful. Your heart constricts a bit, even though it’s not his voice, it doesn’t soften the hurt. It’s real.
“Kim Namjoon, he was one of our TAs for Business History last semester. He’s really smart. I’m talking grade A book smart. Heard his IQ is somewhere between 140 to 160. He’s crazy intelligent. Okay, but get this – he also composes on the side. He works with Yoongi and they’ve produced some stuff together. Here, listen to this.”
Put two galaxies together, and what do you get? A fucking supercluster and that shit is no joke. Together, they are something else. Someone who sees the world beyond its manmade barriers, someone who criticises, someone who is unflinchingly honest in what lies in the heart. Someone that feels, empathizes. Dreamers.
“So basically, the next year is just going to be me feeling all useless and untalented in a house full of very attractive and single men,” you surmise flatly.
“Yep,” Ahri says cheerfully, stabbing at a lettuce leaf.
It’s the incessant knocking that wakes you. The doorbell follows soon after, buzzing loudly as you groan, rolling over.
“Who the f – oh.” You squint, the sunlight merrily blinding you as you open the door.
“___-noona, is now not a good time?” It’s Jimin that speaks, expression worried.
“What time is it?” You murmur, rubbing your temples. Fuck, you definitely drank too much last night. Dara dragged you to some frat party to celebrate your new roommates, who are, ironically enough, now all looking at you with palpable concern.
“It’s twelve,” Namjoon says, eyebrows furrowing. “But we can always come back later if it’s inconvenient for you.”
Oh, shit. Your gaze trails down to the multiple bags and suitcases they’re holding.
“No, no, of course not,” you croak. “Come in. Sorry. I had a long night.” Clearly.
You step to the side, allowing them to file in one by one, before locking the door behind them.
“Cute PJs,” Jin winks as he passes. You look down, horrified. Your pug print pajama pants and flimsy tee are on full display.
You slap your forehead, thoroughly embarrassed. You probably have awful bed head, too.
Running your fingers through the tangled locks, you follow them as they crowd around the living room. Grabbing a box you had the insight to leave on the counter much earlier this week, they tell you what room they’ve picked and you hand them their respective keys.
“Feel free to settle in and do whatever,” you call as you head back to your own room to get ready. “My only rule is that you clean after yourselves. This house is big enough as it is, so cleaning is a hassle. I don’t want to add personal trash into that.”
They make noises of agreement and you shut the door quickly, making your way to the bathroom to take a shower and to scream into a towel for five minutes.
The semester returns with a full swing. You’re nearly knocked over on the first punch, when the syllabus for each class is dropped and you realize you have six assignments due on the same day two weeks from now.
You’ve managed to avoid any further embarrassing interactions with your new roommates, having been bouncing around the city with your soon-to-be-AWOL friends before the term began.
From what you can tell, though, they’re fairly polite and greet you whenever there’s an opportunity. Some try for small talk, like Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. Jungkook is still skittish and practically flies out the room if you’re in it for too long. Yoongi tends to disappear to his room for long periods of time, but Hoseok had told you it was because he was stacking up on sleep. You guessed his work would soon require much out of him, though how the hibernation storage thing worked was beyond you.
Jin was often out; Namjoon had informed you it was because he had a few other contracts to lock down for modelling and whatnot. Taehyung’s schedule was a bit flaky, since he liked taking impromptu trips around campus and the city whenever inspiration struck.
You said farewells to some of your friends, all boxed and hugged, they promised to call often and FaceTime, to which you knew they would hold their end of the bargain to. You weren’t worried, and wished them well.
Your real point of anxiety was how you were going to survive this year. Word had apparently spread like wildfire that the most eligible bachelors of your university had moved in … together … with you.
You’ve already gotten several rather disturbing messages from unknown numbers. You’re unsurprised but still annoyed. The content gets more disconcerting every time, and at this rate, you’re going to end up having to switch numbers. You’re broke, damn it! Broke. Why can’t people just focus on their own lives for once and chill the fuck out? Your wallet wails.
“Good morning, noona.” His smile is so warm for someone who’s just woken up. How does he look so good doing it, too? He’s got a pair of loose sweats and an oversized shirt on, hair mussed and eyes silted adorably as he yawns. It’s 8:30 in the fucking morning and you already want to run yourself over with a school bus.
“Jimin, hello,” you say distractedly, stuffing your laptop into your bag and snatching your keys from the bowl. “Can’t talk, got class.”
“Wait!” He says, rushing up to meet you. He’s holding a piece of buttered toast in his hand. “Eat something while you go. It’s bad to sit in lecture without a breakfast. You won’t be able to focus.”
“Oh,” you blink. “Thank you.” Your smile softens. Jimin scuffs his bare feet shyly in response. “You’re welcome, noona. Stay safe.”
You never eat breakfast. You either never wake up in time to make anything, or you’re too lazy. This is kind of nice, you admit. Have someone take care of you, or think of you. It’s sweet.
You could get used to this, you decide. But you don’t want to get too comfortable. You’ll only end up missing it when they’re gone.
The toast is oddly delicious.
“There’s a showcase coming up.”
“Yes, and?” You say, phone squished to your cheek as you check the course code of the wrapped textbook you’re holding.
“So you’re going, right?” Ahri demands. You can hear her heels clicking against the concrete as she makes her way to her car.
You stand, huffing as you survey the neat stacks of books you’ve spent the last hour organizing. “You’re joking, right? What reason do I have to be at that showcase? I’ve never gone before and there’s no way I’m going this year,” you answer matter-of-factly as you dust yourself off.
“___, we need you at the front,” your manager calls, poking her head in to flash you an apologetic smile.
You give her a thumbs up before returning to the call. “Look, just because Hoseok and Jimin now share a living accommodation with me and we talk casually does not mean I’m suddenly their best friend. Have fun at work!”
You cut off her protests as you pocket your device decisively.
“___!” He beams. “Hi! I didn’t know you worked here.”
“That’s because I usually work the tech section. What can I do for you today, Hoseok-sunbae?” Speak of the devil, you crack a polite smile.
“Just Hoseok, please. I was wondering if you guys sell the code for a digital copy of behavioural economics?” Why are his eyes practically sparkling? How can he be so cheerful?
“Hoseok, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you taking a senior economics course as a dance major?” You ask bluntly.
Hoseok splutters, rubbing his neck. “Um. Namjoon said it would be good for me?” He tries.
You look at him strangely, but shrug. It’s not your business anyway. His loss. Though you’re certain he doesn’t care much about his GPA, considering he’s pretty much got a bunch of prestigious studios vying for him already.
“Anything else I can help you with today?” You say as you scan the code.
“Actually … I was wondering if you were coming to the showcase,” Hoseok says, sounding almost shy.
You eye him suspiciously. “Do you want me there to support you or something? I thought this was only the preliminaries or something.”
“I … We’d really like it if you could make it. Jimin and I … we haven’t had much inspiration lately, to be honest,” he admits. His head hangs, like he’s on the verge of defeat. It doesn’t suit him, and you find yourself frowning.
“The last thing we want is to repeat stuff we’ve done before, but I’ve been stumped all summer. Usually I’d be done choreographing everything, but this year … I dunno,” he trails off.
“I understand that, but why would me being there help?” You tap your fingers against the counter. The campus bookstore is fairly empty today, given that you’re closing in half an hour.
“I just … I thought maybe you could be an unbiased third party, that’s all,” Hoseok says awkwardly. “If you don’t, I totally understand! It was just a suggestion, I guess.”
You sigh, pushing the terminal to him as he fumbles for his wallet. “What time is your practice?”
Hoseok’s grin is blinding and you can’t decide if you’re going to greatly regret or thank yourself for this later on.
“Thank you! Friday, at four in AR Studios. You know where the music department is, right? The practise rooms are on the hallway to the left.”
You manage a weak smile. “I’ll be there.”
It’s a Tuesday, and Taehyung’s fallen asleep on the couch.
You’re exhausted, running yourself a bit thin with the amount of work you’ve been putting in already. You perch on the edge, the soft material sinking slightly under your weight, but the angel doesn’t stir.
And you concede he might as well be one, given how ethereal he appears. He hugs a pillow to his chest, expression serene and limbs lax as he slumbers on. His dark-coloured curls obscure his forehead, pink lips parted lightly as he exhales slowly.
Before you can quench the urge, you reach over and brush his fringe from his eyes.
You’re tired. That’s the only explanation you can offer for what happens next.
Taehyung’s hand shoots up to grab your wrist tightly.
And you find yourself falling as he tugs you on top of him. A quiet oomph escapes you as you bracket his body, arms trembling faintly at the sheer proximity.
His expression, half-lidded and hazy, tells you he’s still flitting in and out of consciousness. Suspended, like he’s replaying his dream in real life.
His smile is lopsided as he cups your cheek, thumbing your cheekbones tenderly. His touch is feverish, so warm it startles you when he guides your palm to his chest, two buttons undone already.
“Heart,” he whispers, and you inhale sharply. His voice breaks, tone anguished and defeated. It both shocks and scares you.
“Taehyung,” you say shakily, ignoring the fluttering beat of his heart and the blood rushing in your ears to press your forehead against his. “Taehyung, you’re burning up.”
“I finally found you,” he sighs, and it alarms you to see he’s fading fast, eyes flickering as he sinks into the couch. “Where did you go, heart? You promised …”
“Promised? Promised what? Tae, what are you talking about?” You say frantically, shaking him lightly. His head rolls and he manages a weak chuckle. “You finally called me Tae again …”
Your eyebrows knit. “What …?” Before you manage anything more, Taehyung collapses.
“He’ll be alright. He’s got a pretty high fever, but it should break by tonight.” Seokjin sounds so self-assured and calm that you find yourself relaxing.
You’ve been fretting, pacing restlessly as you waited for the eldest to return. You contacted him the moment Taehyung knocked out, anxious and unsure of what to do next. The room filled with his laboured breathing, and you tried to alleviate some of the heat by resting a cool towel on his forehead.
The house was typically empty for the day, everyone off to their respective classes and work. The boys usually congregated at night, for dinner and the movies or games that followed. They’ve invited you several times, but you declined each time. You’ve been … busy.
You hesitated on doing more, considering how little you truly knew of Taehyung. You weren’t sure he’d appreciate you accidentally poisoning him with the wrong dose of medication. That, and invading his personal space.
Seokjin opted to buy some medication on his way back instead, and the photography major seems to sleep a bit easier now.
The eldest gives the patient one last once-over before rising to his feet.
“I might as well make dinner, then. Want to come along?” He asks lightly. You follow him to kitchen, shaking your head guiltily. “I’m sorry for making you come back so early. I just didn’t know what else to do. Everyone else was so busy, and—”
“—And I’m the only real adult, I know,” Seokjin says, chuckling. “I’m glad you called. I was about done with my shoot anyway.”
You linger at the island counter awkwardly as you watch him tie an apron to his waist and comb through the fridge for ingredients.
“Sunbae …,” you falter, but he beckons you forward with an encouraging smile. You’re relieved to see he doesn’t seem upset the slightest, though you honestly can’t say you know him enough to determine whether it was sincere or merely a practised mask.
“Jin, please. I’m not that much older, truth be told,” he tells you as you wash the rice.
“Then, Jin … Is Taehyung … with someone right now?” You keep your gaze trained to your task, draining the murky water so carefully you miss the way Seokjin tenses.
“Why? Do you have your sights set on our baby?” Seokjin says lightly, but his voice hints of strain, and he glances at you from the corner of his eye.
You snort unintentionally, coughing quickly to cover it up. “Hardly. I was just wondering.”
“Did he do something weird? Taehyung can act pretty strange when he’s out of it like that. He’ll say or do pretty weird things when he’s drunk or has a really high fever,” Seokjin explains as he pours the vegetables he’s cut into the pot on the stove.
“Oh,” you say as you plug the machine in. “I see.” The rice maker beeps, and you excuse yourself politely.
Thursday is a disaster. You’d hoped he’d keep his distance, given you’d been quite clear the last time you spoke. But of course -
“You’re avoiding me.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve been dodging me since we moved in. Why?”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me. You’re the only person that’s been lying since we met. You made your point very clear that day, and you moving in? It doesn’t change a damn thing. Now tell me what you want or get out. I’m done with your shit.”
“You can’t mean that. You know I didn’t have a choice!”
“You did have a choice. Me, or that damn reputation of yours. You told me to go to hell. What more do you want?”
“You know that’s not what I meant. I didn’t know—”
“Didn’t know what? That it would mean I would lose everything? I didn’t mean shit to you. I don’t know why I ever thought I could trust you.”
“If I had known, I would’ve—”
“Would have what? Tried harder? Bull. Shit. You don’t care about anything but yourself and your career. You can tell yourself different, but you and I both know if I hadn’t trusted you, I wouldn’t be in this position. You did this to me.”
“I don’t want your weakass excuse for an apology. I said I was done with you and I am. This is the last time I’m going to sit here and listen to you pretend you’re the victim. For the sake of peace, I will play niceties with you in front of your friends, but make no mistake: You can’t turn back time. You cannot change what happened, you cannot fix it, you cannot make it better. So go away. Don’t talk to me. Don’t seek me out. We’re not friends. We’ll never be anything ever again. I hope, in time, I can forget you ever existed at all.”
“I’m going to make this right, I swear. I love you more than anything, and I’ll spend the rest of my life if I have to proving it to you.”
“Please just go.”
You stare out the window, the city lights blinding in the night skyline. The glass reflects the emptiness in your eyes, and there’s only deafening silence that’s shattered in the next beat by the slamming of your door.
Hugging your arms to your chest, you refuse to acknowledge the sharp sting in your eye.
You wish you’d never met him.
“Just … be careful,” Yoongi says quietly. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him outside of their initial tour. “Housing wasn’t the only reason some of us are here.”
You stifle a sigh. All you wanted was some water, not another 2 am detox on everything wrong in your life.
“Why are you telling me this?” You ask carefully. His hand pauses on the doorknob.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” is all he says.
You’re left to ponder his warning as he disappears into his room. Your phone lights up in your hand.
[01:25] Unknown: I need to see you. Can we talk?
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Wickedly Domestic - Roommates and Puppies
Now that I am back on tumblr I figured I might as well upload my John Wick x Fat!OC fic here as well. Maybe I'll find the motivation to write it as well.
TW: Alternate Universe Canon Diverence, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Sex
If I miss anything please let me know!
There is a consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of her roommates bed hitting the wall. Despite a whole floor separating them she could still hear the sounds of her roommate getting fucked into next week, literally. Usually Maria wouldn’t care that her roommates late at night shenanigans would run into the next morning but, there was more at stake on the agenda today than usual. Maria pressed her pillow over her ears and looked at her phone; it was almost 4 am Monday morning.
There was a meeting in downtown New York that she had to attend, which the commute was a little more intense then she usually had to deal with. Living and working in a suburb outside of New York City allowed for a stress and traffic free drive to work, usually 15 minutes or less, but driving into the city always was a hassle, that drive tends to be close to an hour. Maria rubbed at her eyes and unlocked her phone, she still had 3 hours before she had to be downtown. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, this meeting was with the CEO. Those kinds of meetings either ended up in promotion or termination, she buried her face into her pillow. She could still hear the thunk and a few giggles from her roommate and company. Considering she was already up and too anxious to go back to bed she might as well get her workout in now instead of later.
Heaving herself up and out of bed with a groan she let out a yawn before looking around for her workout clothes. Pulling on her leggings and finding a clean shirt she fished around her room for her headphones. Despite living in New York state for a little over 3 months now she still hasn’t completely unpacked. Moving boxes were still stacked around the room and there was a stack of art needing to be hung up.
She wasn’t planning on moving when she did, the roommate who was busy getting fucked, offered her a place to stay. All she had to do was pay utilities and cook for the house once a week. The home had been a surprise to her roommate Cooper. An estranged great Aunt had willed it over to her, Cooper was already living in New York, and the full ride she received was barely enough to cover the dorm she had to split with 2 other people. When she was contacted by lawyers telling her she is now a proud homeowner and didn’t have to worry about student loans for the rest of her life.
One of the first things she did was reach out to Maria. Cooper was well aware of the tension at home, brewing in Maria’s family since they met in high-school. Unfortunately she had first hand seen more tear stained faces and frustration that Maria was put through. They spoke often and were close, promising to push each other to do amazing things. Sometimes amazing things means moving across the country but their love and friendship didn’t diminish over the distance. So offering the room
All Maria had to do was fund the move and drive 30 hours across the country. Dying to get out of the town she has spent her whole life, as well as always loving the east coast, she packed up, put in her two weeks at her current job and submitted an application to anywhere within a 10 mile radius of her new address. She thanked the stars when a local bank picked up her application and allowed for Skype and phone interviews, giving her the job before she even moved out there. She was introduced to her coworkers through a group chat and she fell into her role easily before she even met them in person.
The hardest part had been leaving old friends, leaving her family on the other hand had been a blessing. Her father and his side of the family had always been hard to please and any relationship with them over the last couple of years had been more of a formality than anything else. Her mother was a different story, tears were shed and a few fights were had due to this hasty decision on moving across the country. Maria’s mother had always wanted more for her daughter than what she currently had but packing up and leaving across the country in less than a month gave her mother bad feelings. Her mother backed off and gave Maria her blessing once she got her job, knowing how stubborn her daughter is once she puts her mind to something.
Her siblings had felt the same way, constant calls and texts were exchanged during the long drive while everyone was proud and knew she would be better for the move. It still hurt, promising to visit during holidays and letting them stay over if they ever visited. But it was like ripping off a bandaid. It had to be done or else it festers and could lead to infection, staying stagnant had been driving her crazy.
Once changed and headphones found under some papers she had been reviewing at her desk, she slid them over her ears and made her way upstairs, closing the door and making sure it was locked behind her. Her cat had the habit of running outside and getting lost or turning up at the local shelter and the last thing she needed was to also be worrying about her cat while she was working in the city.
She jogged down to the gate and opened it before she got into her car and made her way to the nature preserve just a few minutes away from her home. She could have ran there but she wasn’t quite ready to commit to the workout while the air was so chilly. By the time she has parked and started her stretches the world had started to wake up around her, birds chirping and the distant sounds of honking while she tried to figure out what playlist she wanted to run to. Deciding on something beat heavy she started down the trail that would lead over the swamp, it had been a while since she had run outside, usually opting to do her cardio in a class setting or on a treadmill while she binges whatever series she is watching on Netflix at the moment.
She was only half a mile in the trail before she had to stop for a moment. Her “ultra support” sports bra did not help as much as she hoped, having big tits was a blessing and a curse. They made working out hell on earth but it got her more free drinks at the bar then she would like to admit. But it also kept her from being able to run as much as she would like to before she has to stop and readjust.
She pulled out her phone and checked the time, quarter past 5 am, she still had time. She could do a mile before she went home and showered and get ready for a grueling day. She paused her music, taking deep breaths before she started up again, she thought she heard rustling behind her. Which despite being close to the city the swamp held more wildlife than she thought it would. She sat and listened, chancing a glance behind her. The sun was nearly up but running by herself in public always put her on edge. There was always the chance of someone grabbing her and doing whatever they would like to her, she shuddered and unlocked her phone, sending her location and a text as to when she would be back to the roommate group chat. Just in case she were to get snatched up at least her roommates would know where she was last.
She started up again, turning her music up all the way to drown out her heavy breathing and the sound of her feet hitting the trail. It wasn’t until she was almost across one of the many bridges in the nature preserve stretching her calf muscles when she felt something warm and slimy against the skin of her leg. She screamed and pulled her head phones off, looking down to see if she had unknowingly picked up a slug or if some creep had managed to sneak up on her. Letting out a sigh when she saw it was a small Beagle, whining and licking at her leg. She crouched down pet the dog who was whining at her feet.
“Hey baby, where are your parents?” She picked up the dog and looked it over, she saw a name tag, “Daisy- that’s a cute name. Matches my tattoo,” she flipped over the name tag and saw an address, thankful she wouldn't have to drop the dog off at home and try to find her owners later. Daisy fell asleep in her arms while she walked the pup back to her car, the thought on finishing her run gone from her mind. Once the dog was rested safely in her front seat and plugged the address into her phone. It was a quick drive back to the owners house thankfully, it was getting dangerously close to 6 am but she couldn’t not take the sleepy baby home.
She knew if her cat went missing longer than usual or her roommates dog she would be worried sick. No parent should be worried about their baby, that was the biggest motivator for her as she snaked through the neighborhood following her GPS until she pulled up to one of the biggest houses she had ever seen. She knew she lived in affluent part of the state but pulling up the gravel driveway of what was basically a mansion she started to sweat. The bouncing of her car woke the puppy up, who was happily wagging her tail, grateful to be home after wandering away in the early morning. Maria smiled, happy that the pup was glad to be home.
“Lets go baby, let's get you back home.” Daisy ran up the door and pawed at it. Maria knocked and waited a moment, when she didn’t hear any movement in the house she rang the doorbell. Daisy was sitting by her feet waiting patiently for the door to open, it felt like hours while she stood in the massive door hoping someone was home to take the pup in. In reality It had probably been only 5 or so minutes, she chanced a glance around the driveway and didn’t see a car. Figuring that whoever would have been home was gone she turned and started walking back to her car, calling for Daisy, she could take her home and try again after work. Knowing her roommates would be sympathetic to the lost puppy and take care of her until she could try again. It was then she heard the large door open. She turned and nearly lost her balance when she caught a glance at the man who opened the door.
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Synopsis: You are preparing to say goodbye to uni life and take a leap of faith into the unknown. What happens when you are met with an unexpected visitor? Decisions are tricky… Will you be able to make the right one?
Word Count: 7,5 k
Genre: ex- boyfriend au!, angst
Warnings: smoking, drinking, fighting, cursing
Member: Jungkook, ft Namjoon and Lisa from BlackPink
A/N: This took every last cell of my energy to write. I think a part of me will live within this work. Say hello to my new favourite piece.
If life was full of crossroads, you could clearly see the one waiting for you only a few steps away. Could the butterfly effect be true? Could every single choice you make drastically change the outcome of every day ahead of you? How could you ever be sure a decision was right?
Could you trust your heart? Or would it always lie to you? Your head? Or would it force a decision on you? Could you take a friend’s advice? Would it be right to listen to someone else when the result only concerns yourself?
Still lost in thought, you pry open your window slowly as to not make any sound. You take your legs out first, climbing on the steps of the narrow fire escape. It creaks under your weight, a familiar and almost comforting sound. You squeeze the cup of tea in your hand, hoping that its heat will seep into your fingers. A wisp of air makes you shiver, your teeth threatening to clatter together.
You shouldn’t be out. You are dressed in your home clothes, leggings and an old oversized hoodie, not nearly enough to save you from the cold air outside. Yet you don’t mind, allowing the cold to surround you as you wrap a blanket around your shoulders.
You glance back inside, your room in complete disarray. A big suitcase is sitting opened in front of your closet, filled to the brim. Everywhere around your room are opened boxes, some of them half empty, others overflowing with your possessions. The walls seem empty as the fairy lights that used to decorate them are packed in one of the boxes. The collage of pictures that accompanied them is now stored in an album.
You reach for it, getting comfortable on the fire escape again as you shuffle through it. The smile on your face only keeps growing as the memories come back to you. Your first day in uni, your first dorm, countless pictures of you and your roommate, Lisa, from various adventures from 3am liquor runs to stressing over exams.
With every picture, you see the passage of time. How you moved out of the dorms and into your first apartment, your first day at your shitty part time job to pay rent. You and your friends’ first time at karaoke night, only for it to become tradition. Beach days and hikes, laughs and crying sessions.
Lost in the array of pictures is a picture of him. Your first instinct is to bury it, shoving it under all the other pictures. You scoff, turning to look at the skyline for a while. You try to pry him out of your head, but your heart is yearning to look at the picture again. You shake your head again and again, trying to think about something else, anything else.
Your hands move on their own accord, looking though the mess you made to find his picture again. You find it at last, a sigh escaping past your lips. The picture sports you and Jungkook, your (now) ex-boyfriend, happily smiling with matching peace signs framing your faces. Jungkook’s hair is hidden under a bucket hat, messy strands peeking through, while his eyes shine brightly, a million little stars hidden away in their depths. Next to him, your smile has taken over your features, almost making your eyes seal shut. You both look so happy, so good together, like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly.
You can feel your heart twist inside your chest. The memory behind the picture surfaces quickly, as it from the days you were still trying to impress each other. For your first dates, you would take turns showing the other your favourite places around the city, trying to get to know each other better. This picture was from an outing at one of Jungkook’s favourite pastry places.
With Jungkook, every day was an adventure, every day brought a surprise. He always went down roads no one ever treaded, happy to make a path for himself where there was none. There were no easy choices with him, only right ones.
You knew if you kept looking at that part of the pictures, you’d find more traces of him. After all, he had been a big part of your life for almost two years. So you went ahead and looked through the pictures, from your one year anniversary, to meeting his parents, then yours, silly pictures taken on drunk nights, memorabilia from your road trips.
Tearing away your gaze from the photos, you changed your position, now sitting cross-legged as you beheld the sky line. Your thoughts were bringing back memories from your relationship, as if a film was playing before you and you couldn’t stop watching.
You recalled your first meetings, soft hellos on the elevator or when you were grabbing your mail. You soon learned that he lived with his best friend on the floor above you, apartment 4C. You and your own best friend were currently residing on apartment 3C. Coincidence? Maybe.
Then again, perhaps not. For random meetings were one thing, but him walking out to your beloved fire escape more and more often could not be incidental. The first couple of times it happened, a comfortable silence reigned over you after a timid greeting, both of you cherishing the time to get lost in your thoughts.
You almost jumped out of your skin when he finally walked up to you one day in one of your favourite cafes. You remember well, how he managed to gather up the courage to walk up to you, messy flock of brown hair and all, using his favourite greeting, one he saved only for you.
“Hey stranger”, the sound of his voice plays in your head.
After that day, lonely hours on your fire escape became hang out sessions as you talked about what was on your minds, letting go of all your worries. You found solace in him and he grew to trust you more and more. Those stolen moments turned to actual dates when you finally got fed up and asked him out. As you got to know him better, you discovered that the mysterious guy living a floor above you wasn’t mysterious at all.
Jungkook was… his own galaxy. How could someone’s presence be so enticing, screaming at everyone to take note of him, while he was introverted and quiet? How could someone excel at basically everything he did, everything his hands touched turning into gold, yet be so blissfully unaware of it? How could someone be so passionate, pouring himself into his work, whatever that may be, while remaining unsure of himself?
He was full of contradictions indeed. And those contradictions became the cause of your relationship falling apart. He made you happy, even in those last days, you truly felt happy when you were with him. But more and more obstacles came to stand between you. You had lost your way of connecting and he seemingly wasn’t interested in getting it back.
The screaming still lingers in your ears. You can almost hear the glass breaking as you both screamed at each other, desperately trying to get the other person to listen.
Yet you don’t regret speaking up that day. If anything, it showed you what you already knew. You were both too caught up in yourselves to be someone for the other person to love. While you still cared for him, you knew that staying your distance was what you both needed.
Especially now. You truly couldn’t fathom how the opportunity for you to get away had just bounced onto your lap. You accepted without a second thought, knowing it was just the opportunity you were searching for. And here you were, packing, ready to start traveling as the personal assistant of one of the most influential photographers in the fashion industry.
The industry was complicated of course, yet you had always loved it dearly. You had made your first skirt at the age of 13, only for your love to grow as you started unfolding more fashion secrets. From altering thrifted clothes, to making your own, to studying fashion in university, you were dedicated to your dream. Now, you were caught up in it, finally landing the break you wanted to enter the exclusive world you have only caught glimpse of until now and making your dream into reality.
A knock came from your door, violently snapping you away from your thoughts. You twisted around a bit, calling for them to come in. Lisa’s head peaked from behind your door, a smile lighting up her face.
“Hey, you” she called, walking over to you.
“Hey baby” you answered, smiling back at her, the nickname effortlessly flowing from your lips.
You scooted over, inviting her to sit next to you. You got comfortable on the small space, leaving your legs to hang out as you snuggled under the blanket. Your head came to rest easily on her shoulder, fitting perfectly in position as you both watched the city lights flicker before you.
“At least you’ve opened up the boxes” she teased you.
“Hey!” you said, poking her stomach as retaliation, “I’m almost done with my closet and I’ve packed all my books! That only leaves…” you let your voice trail off, your eyes skimming your room.
“Literally everything else” she joked again, and this time you couldn’t help but laugh with her.
“Do you need help, baby? I know this must be hard for you mentally” she asked, her tone sweet, deprived from the joking attitude she had only moments before.
You needn’t think for an answer, only shook your head firmly.
“I need to do this myself. Come to terms with it.” You told her.
You felt her nod as a comfortable silence reigned between you. After a few moments, you felt her arms around you tighten. Without a word, you tightened your own hold around her waist.
“I’m going to miss you so much” you whispered.
“I’m going to miss you too. It almost feels like I don’t know what to do with myself now that you’re leaving.” She told you.
You had nothing to say to that. You and Lisa had been stuck at the hip for years and yet, you knew it was time for you to move on. From the very first day you met her in your assigned dorm room, to today, when your paths would inevitably split up, Lisa had been an invaluable friend to you. It was hard for you to imagine a life without her next to you.
But you weren’t scared. You knew her better than she knew herself, and vice versa. She understood you and you knew that she would always be there for you. Your friendship was strong. It would hold out.
“You know”, she broke the silence “Joon texted”
Your eyes widened at the mention of the boy. Namjoon was Jungkook’s roommate and best friend, currently hidden away inside the apartment above you. You looked back at your best friend before asking,
“What did he say?”
“Well… It appears that he let slip to Jungkook that you’re leaving. And he didn’t take it very well” she admitted.
“Oh?” you asked.
“Apparently he’s throwing a temper tantrum up there. So I thought…” she was saying, when you cut her off.
“No. Lisa, no” you said sternly.
“Y/N,” she begun, only for you to cut her off again.
“No, Lisa, don’t. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I just want to drink my tea and pack in peace” you told her.
“Is that enough? What about closure?” she asked you.
“I’ve had it. It’s been six months. If he wanted to talk it out, he should’ve done it a long time ago” you answered.
“If that’s what you want…” she said, her voice trailing off.
“That’s what I want. I’m leaving this place and him behind me. I only ever need you” you said, trying to give her a comforting smile.
“Oh shut up you cheesy little shit” she said, cuddling further into you.
After a few moments of silence, Lisa slowly started to draw herself away.
“I’m too cold for this. I’ll see you later?” she asked, climbing back inside.
“Sure. I’ll try to finish up so we can have those drinks we talked about. Girls’ night?” you offered.
Lisa’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. You loved the thought yourself, putting your phones away for a while and just having drinks with your best friend sounded like a dream. You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself as you got lost in your thoughts once again.
You watched silently as cars passed from the road under you, hurriedly trying to get to their destination. Not a lot of people were out, and those who were, were maneuvering through the streets, rushing to return to the safety of their homes.
There’s a storm coming. You thought, watching dark clouds filled with rain make their way towards the city. Funny, the weather always found a way to match your mood. Your eyes turned to the open boxes once again as you struggled to form a plan to get through packing as fast as possible.
Then, the familiar creaking sound of a window opening above you startled you. All your muscles tensed up, your body going on overdrive, your senses heightened. You tried to keep your head straight, silently praying that he just opened the window to get some air, that he wasn’t going to get out.
Your prayers went unanswered.
The fire escape creaked loudly as more weight was pushed on it. You heard him huff lightly as he settled down, getting comfortable. Your mind could already see him, even though your eyes couldn’t, his legs spread in front of him, cigarettes in hand, back leaning on the wall as his face was colored by the blinking lights of the city.
“Hey, stranger” Jungkook called you, causing your breath to hitch at your throat.
You masked your shock by taking a sip of your tea, trying to brush Jungkook off. However, he had other plans.
“I know you can hear me. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, just don’t fucking ignore me.” He snapped.
You didn’t pretend you didn’t hear him this time. You scoffed, annoyed but his stubbornness, turning to look at him, your eyes searching for his. He was sprawled across the staircase just like you expected, his hands busy swirling around a pack of cigarettes. His hair was longer now, you noted, parted square in the middle, curls falling effortlessly to frame his face. His doe eyes were the same, holding your gaze as his tongue moved out of his mouth to wet his lips.
“Hello, Jungkook” you said curtly.
“Well then, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked, his lips turning up into a smirk.
You shook your head, not wanting to lead him on further. It seemed that he was also out of things to say, for silence overtook you for a few moments. Jungkook then opened his pack, placing a cigarette between his lips and fumbling for a lighter. Having located it, he lit his cigarette, taking a big swig of it and letting out a puff of smoke in the shape of a ring.
His eyes found yours again, for yours were already on him, watching his movements. Something flashed in his eyes then, so quick you didn’t have time to put a finger on it. Without a word, he tossed the pack on your lap.
Your eyes shifted from the cigarettes to him as you tried to figure out what to do. Your mind drifted back to the thought of crossroads as you grabbed the pack with your hands. Lisa’s voice also replayed in your head. Closure. Such a silly thing.
You opened the pack, picking up a cigarette and putting it between your fingers. You reached out, motioning for Jungkook to pass you the lighter. He reached for you, lighter in hand, your hands brushing a little as you got the lighter. Sheltering the small flame with your hand, you lit your cigarette, the familiar feeling of smoke filling your lungs overtaking you.
You blew out the smoke in a puff, failing to make a ring identical to his. You placed the pack and cigarettes some steps above you and in Jungkook’s reach. He tossed them back inside, turning his attention back to you. Only this time, you weren’t looking at him.
Your eyes had drifted away, back onto the bustling city as the cigarette in your hand burned like a beacon. Jungkook felt his heart twist inside his chest, felt his hands yearning to touch you, his lips to be placed upon yours. He managed to quiet his thoughts, assuming a stoic expression as you turned back to look at him.
There was something in your eyes, something Jungkook had never seen there before. He tried to hold your gaze, but you looked away too quickly, your eyes falling on the inside of your room.
“Shouldn’t you be packing?” he asked, testing the waters.
“Well, I am here now” you said, turning to look at him once more.
Jungkook’s mind was flooded with possibilities, things he’s never told you, things he wished to tell you, for so long. You were desperately trying to read him, wishing that you know what was happening inside his head.
“Jungkook…” “Y/N…” you spoke up at the same time.
You chuckled, Jungkook soon following suit. Still, after all those months, you were in tune. You looked at him, smile still settled on your lips as he returned the look. He motioned for you to go first and you took a swig of your cigarette, trying to buy yourself some time.
You opened your mouth to speak up when a drop of rain fell on your hair. You were startled, flinching as you turned to look at the sky. He flinched too after a few seconds, a droplet of rain dropping on his shoulder. Slowly but surely, large drops started falling from the sky all around you, leaving you to giggle like a child.
“Want to take this inside? Help me pack, keep me company, whatever?” you asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
He raised a brow, looking directly at you as you fumbled with your blanket, trying to get it over your head to shield you from the rain. Once you met his eyes again, he was still curiously regarding you. You put out your cigarette, throwing it away and waiting expectantly for his answer.
With one last drag, Jungkook put out his own cigarette, getting up. He was hovering over you when he said simply,
You smiled up at him, happy with his answer as you pushed your way back inside. You threw the now damp blanket in a corner of the room, suddenly self-conscious of the awful mess. You heard him shuffle his way in, landing rather ungracefully on the floor under your window.
“You’d think that after doing this so many times you would have gotten the hang of it… You disappoint me Jeon” you joked.
Jungkook glared at you, causing you to laugh loudly. You reached for your phone, going to text Lisa that you had someone over, as you always did and vice versa. Your hand hovered over the screen, hesitating to open the messaging app.
Telling Lisa would… Complicate things. She’d ask questions after, questions you couldn’t answer because in all honesty, you didn’t know why you called him over. How did you go from not wanting to see him or talk to him to inviting him over? You weren’t really sure. In the end, he’d exit the way it came. No trouble at all. Right?
Yes, your mind answered for you. Lisa definitely doesn’t need to know.
You realized Jungkook was talking to you, making you turn abruptly on your heels.
“Sorry, I was kind of daydreaming for a second. What was that?” you asked.
Jungkook smiled at you, slightly shaking his head before saying,
“I just said that you looked very concentrated for a person staring at a black screen”
“Oh shut up” you said, making him raise his hands in surrender.
You huffed loudly, placing your hands on your hips and looking around your room, trying to decide where to begin. One glance at your vinyl collection made the decision for you. The small stack, which only grew over the years, was an easy thing to check off of your list. Grabbing the box closest to you, you sat yourself down at your desk chair, a comfortable distance away from the shelf your vinyl had resided in… Until now.
Glancing briefly at Jungkook, you found him still sat on the floor, eyes locked on the screen of his phone. His eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration and without glancing at the screen, you knew he was keeping himself busy with a game on his phone. Still exactly the same, your mind added. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was tense, so you decided to speak up.
“You know, you could always sit on the bed. Or actually help me pack”
“So you brought me here to do your dirty work for you? No thanks” he said.
“Oh come on, you can’t just sit on your phone! Just do the board games or something” you urged him on.
He got on his feet, making you think that he would actually do as you asked. You turned back to the task at hand only to jump at the feeling of his hands gracing your shoulders lightly.
“I could always do you” he said, his tone low.
You almost lost yourself in the touch, when you snapped yourself back to reality, flinching away from him. You were glad you couldn’t see him, it only made your next words easier.
“In your dreams Jeon.” You said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
You heard him mutter something under his breath, before actually making his way to grab a box to fill with your board games. He settled down, getting to work without a word. Your mind was running on speeds you didn’t know possible, your shoulders still tingling where his hands had touched you.
At some point you heard him laugh out loud, making your racing mind cease, your attention brought back to him. You looked at him shyly from under your hair, somewhat afraid to meet his gaze head on.
“Remember when we used to have best friends vs best friends board game nights and Joon would kick your ass in Name, Animal, Plant with words like, oh, I don’t know, fucking Hyacinth or something?” he said, still chuckling slightly.
You too laugh at the memories. While you and Jungkook were still together, you, Lisa and the boys would often meet up for game nights of board games, loads of food and alcohol. You fondly remembered those nights, were everything was normal, there was no weight in your chest and your smiles came as easily as breathing.
“Remember that night Lisa sprained her ankle while we were playing charades?” you retorted.
He broke into a laughing fit, clearly recalling the crazy night that followed the incident. So many memories came to mind, replaying in front of you effortlessly. So many happy memories, so many smiles, laughs and inside jokes, so many things connecting you.
What went wrong? Your head screamed as you watched Jungkook’s back. He was animatedly reminding you of all that transpired one night where Namjoon believed himself “Extremely sexy” and tried dancing to ‘Havana’ by Camilla Cabello. You, of course, where there, and you recalled the event quite vividly.
But there was something about watching him retell the story, the corner of his lips turning up as he spoke, his eyes getting smaller and smaller as laughter sealed them shut. His words were often stopped by laughing fits and he turned around to see if you were watching now and again. Each time, you’d meet his eyes, nodding in encouragement as you threw your own two cents in, pushing the story further.
Having him with you made you feel weird and safe at the same time. You appreciated the company, he always found a way to make you feel at ease and after a while the conversation flowed naturally between you, as if you were two old friends… Which you were. Kind of. Furthermore, the night had a tone of finality in it.
It was strange for you, sitting in a room with him, surrounded by your things and burdened with so many memories and yet not being able to touch him. You were holding yourself back, filtering your actions, words and emotions carefully. You were balancing on the edge of a cliff and it would only take so much for you to tip into your demise. You stole glances at him, not yet ready to study him openly. You recognized all the small mannerisms and quirks that made Jungkook, Jungkook. But still, you were reserved, keeping your voice down and your laughs short, not being able to lose yourself in him, his presence, his voice, his laugh, his words.
It shouldn’t surprise you how easily you worked together, moving in different parts of the room and wrapping things neatly. You knew the other well and still, you were in tune, giving the other space when needed or rushing to help sort something out. You could read each other with a simple sideways glance, which could be part of the reason you still hadn’t met his gaze since you came inside.
You didn’t need to give him instructions or anything, he simply took initiative and started placing your belongings in boxes, trying to save you space and fit as many things in as possible. After sitting on your suitcase, squeezing it with all your might in a final attempt to close it, it was over.
You stood with your hands on your hips, a final huff leaving you as you admired your handiwork. The boxes were neatly placed one on top of the other in a corner of the room and Jungkook was now dragging your suitcase to sit with them.
“I guess we make a pretty good team, huh?” he asked.
And it had happened. You’d tipped from the edge. You felt the tone of the room shift, his seemingly innocent question bouncing off of your walls in an unending echo. Your heartbeat picked up, your hands getting sweaty as you fumbled for words to answer him.
You sat on top of your bed, craving for some kind of comfort. He turned to look at you then, his doe eyes finding yours. It took all of your strength to muster up a smile, shaky as it was. It sufficed, for you saw Jungkook nod a little, seemingly mulling over his own words.
“How about some music?” you asked, taking your phone on your hands.
“No, not you, I’m designated DJ, remember?” Jungkook stopped you, already opening Spotify on his phone.
You gave him the finger, laying back on your bed and waiting for him to play something that fit the mood. Jungkook admittedly had his way with music. He listened to a huge array of different artists and was happy to provide you with playlist for any given emotion or situation. Your favorite one, one of the last tokens of his you held dear, was the one he had named after the city you lived in, managing to capture its vibe perfectly.
Remember when we first met?
You said, “Light my cigarette”
He absolutely did not. You shot up on your bed to find him already looking at you from under his curls. A cheeky smile made its way to his lips as your head swirled in circles. He sat back, challenging you with a look.
He played your song. Your fucking song. On one of the first times you hanged out with him, still in the awkward phase you only bumped into each other and shared a few words on the fire escape, you discovered you both harbored the same love for a singer named Troye Sivan.
As your relationship matured, blossomed into a true companionship, ‘Strawberries and Cigarettes’ came out. And it fit. It fit like a glove, just like the faint cigarette taste that adorned Jungkook’s lips and the strawberry flavored gum you were somewhat addicted to. It fit in the way he taught you to make smoke rings and the road trips you had gone on together. It fit in the black jeans he always wore, the spare lighters that you always seemed to find in the bottom of your purse and fighting over boxes of candy.
And even now, it fit. Because you were leaving, ‘giving your heart a holiday’. Because you were wondering if you’d teach each other fate.
The song softly played as your thoughts raced inside your head, Jungkook patiently waiting for your reaction.
“Turn it off” you finally found the strength to say, holding his gaze.
Your voice came out low, shaky and you cursed yourself for not being able to have more conviction. He did as he was told without a fight, as you got on your feet to look outside the window, anything to avoid his eyes. The storm was still going strong outside, the rain playing notes on the metal of the fire escape.
You took a few deep breaths, making an effort to calm yourself down. Too preoccupied in your thoughts, you didn’t hear him get up or walk up to you. You jumped when you felt his hands on you, trying to wrap themselves around your waist.
His movements stopped momentarily, obviously waiting for you to shove him away. When you didn’t, he eased his arms around you, placing his hands in the pockets of your hoodie.
What the fuck am I doing? You asked yourself as Jungkook rested his head against yours and you instinctively melted at the touch. A few moments of stillness and tranquility passed, until Jungkook moved, placing a kiss on the side of your head.
Your eyes fluttered closed, as all your other senses heightened, the feeling of his hands around you, his scent, his movements, all way too familiar. He breathed in your scent, stopping there for a few moments to ground himself. Then, his kisses moved, first to the shell of your ear, then your temple, your cheek, to arrive and settle on your lips.
He still tasted the same. The thought made you want to cry as you felt his hand cup your face to keep you in place. You allowed yourself to savor it, savor the way he felt pressed against you, his lips on top of yours. Your legs turned to jelly as your hands grabbed his shoulders to keep you steady. You felt yourself slip back into a time when this was not a rare occurrence but everyday life, when you were awarded with kisses for the smallest of feats and when your lips on his didn’t feel like a breath of fresh air but rather coming back home after a long day.
Home. The word abruptly brought you back to reality. You pulled away, untangling yourself from him.
“Stop” you said, still no conviction in your voice.
“Y/N, just-” he started but you cut him off.
“No, Jungkook. No. This is closure okay? This is it. I’m leaving tomorrow, you know that. Why are making this harder for me? Why should we re-open old wounds?” you asked him.
“Because they haven’t fully healed, Y/N! Look, I know you’re leaving tomorrow but…” his voice trailed off, his hands curling into fists.
“There are no buts, Jungkook! You helped me pack for Christ’s sake, you helped me wrap up things here. It’s done. I’m doing this” you said.
“Then why would you kiss me like that?” he asked.
The question hit you like a ton of bricks. Why did you kiss him indeed?
“I don’t know.” You answered truthfully.
He scoffed, pressing his body on top of yours once more. He grabbed your hand, placing it over his heart. His movements were abrupt and rushed, his hand pressing yours so hard it almost hurt. You felt his erratic heartbeat as he spoke up,
“Do you feel that? That’s my heart, still crazy over you. All night, it took everything in me not to kiss you. But I did. And when you kissed back I… I thought there was a chance. Just tell me. Tell me you don’t want this” he said.
“Jungkook…” you started, your voice trailing off as your thoughts got clouded by your close proximity.
Taking a step back, you were pushed against the wall, his body caging your own, arms on either side of your body, eyes baring into yours. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone think, everything becoming too much and too intense. You desperately tried to collect your thoughts, find a way to get to him, make him understand why you couldn’t.
“I have to go. This is something I have to do, for me.” You explained.
For a few moments, there was silence. Neither of you moved as your eyes were stuck on the necklace dangling from his neck, a small anchor. Your gift. You just couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like you were being dealt with blow after blow and it was all too much. Not baring the silence any longer, you weaseled under his arms as you spoke up.
“This was a mistake. I’m… I’m sorry I kissed you, I thought it was closure but… It’s clearly not. You should go” you told him, turning your back on him as you desperately tried to keep your voice from breaking.
“Y/N. Please.” he begged.
You shook your head, your hair whipping around as the tears started to blur your vision. You looked at him with the corner of your eye, not strong enough to face him head on. His expression was open, his arms dangling on his sides, defeated.
“I need this, Jungkook, more than you’ll ever know. I need to get out. I need… I need to start over. Please. Don’t make this any harder.” You tried to explain.
Finally, something flashed in his eyes. Could it be realization? You’d never know, for he pried open the window forcefully, turning around to look at you again.
“For the record, I’m not sorry. I don’t take anything that I said or did back. I still love you. Always will.” He said.
Without waiting for your reply, he got out into the staircase and the rain. A few droplets landed on your window seat, but you didn’t care, only watched frozen as he walked away from you.
A few moments later, your tears slowed down enough for you to close the window.
“I still love you too.” You whispered onto the glass, a sob chocking you.
Eyes bloodshot and nose running, you went to find Lisa in the kitchen. Once you walked in the room, Lisa took in your disheveled state and rushed to your side. When she gathered you in her arms, new tears found their way into your eyes.
“Oh, baby” Lisa said, rubbing soothing circles down your back.
“He was here” you stated.
“I know. Joon texted me the screenshot once Jungkook texted him” she told you.
“Traitor. I didn’t want you to know” you mumbled.
“I know. But you weren’t sly either. I could hear you laughing clear as day” she said.
“Fuck. This place isn’t soundproof at all. Thank God I’m leaving” you joked through the tears.
“Hey. I’m stuck here for another two years for my post grad. Show some respect” she joked back, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.
“Now sit your ass down. I’m busting open the good wine and we’re going to talk about everything tonight” she said, giving you a theatrical spin.
And talk you did. As you got through the whole bottle, even bringing out a second one for a couple of glasses, you talked and talked about what transpired that night, Jungkook and Namjoon, school and work and everything in between.
That night, none of you bared to be alone, so you found yourselves sharing Lisa’s purple comforter on either sides of her bed, your legs tangled together to feel closer to each other.
This is it. Last night. Your head kept repeating as sleep finally claimed you.
Morning came quicker than you expected, the blaring of your alarm startling you awake. You groaned at the sound, turning it off as quickly as possible before turning to lie on your back. Lisa stirred next to you, as you knew she would, taking a couple of minutes before opening her eyes.
You stared at the ceiling for a few moments, your brain trying to fully wake up before you peeled the comforter off your form, leaving Lisa to scroll through her phone. You washed up quickly, getting ready and you meeting Lisa in the kitchen for breakfast.
Only this time, she didn’t greet you with her usual soft smile. She slowly peeled her teary eyes from her mug to watch you walk in.
“Oh baby” you said, immediately rushing to her side and wrapping your arms around her.
Your own eyes filled with tears as your best friend sobbed into your shoulder, holding you tightly. You whispered soothing words in her ear, trying to calm her down, reassure her that you were going to be just fine. She composed herself, and you poured two bowls of sugary cereal, one for each of you and a mug of coffee for yourself.
You nibbled on the cereal in silence, both evidently trying to hold back tears. With a glance at her phone’s clock, Lisa was the first to break the silence.
“We should go” she announced and you just nodded at her words.
You moved to your room, dragging your big suitcase with you, leaving the boxes to be picked up in a day or two by the moving company. You checked your purse for last things, making sure you had everything. Your eyes scanned the small room, your heart swelling with nostalgia and your eyes getting teary again. You perched the purse further up your shoulder, before whispering a goodbye to the room that had been your safe place for almost three years.
You dragged your suitcase to the living room, where Lisa was waiting for you. Again, you looked around a room that held so many memories of you and your friends, lovers, passing people and everyone in between. You had to close your eyes for a moment to stop the tears. With one deep breath and a firm nod, you turned to Lisa.
“I’m ready” you announced, closing the door behind you.
The ride to the airport was filled with silence, as a random radio station provided you with music. None of you paid too much attention to it, both too preoccupied with your own thoughts. You looked out of the window, your eyes racing over the familiar streets of the city you studied in. You remembered how lost you were the first times you had gotten out on your own. Now, it felt like the city was imprinted in the back of your hand.
Finally arriving at the airport, you and Lisa unloaded your suitcase from the back of her car and she offered to carry it until you checked in. After finding the correct counter and checking in, you and Lisa sat down in a nearby bench. A few moments passed by, before she started rambling, clearly nervous,
“Do you have anything to eat? Maybe you’ll get hungry on the plane, let me go get you something”
You got hold of her hand before she could stand up, pulling her back in the seat next to you.
“Baby, I’m fine. Can we just… Sit here for a few minutes before I go?” you asked her.
Lisa didn’t reply, only nodded a little before resting her head on your shoulder. You rested your head on top of hers, a sigh falling from your lips. At that moment, you were content.
The time flowed by too quickly for your liking and before you knew it, the airport speakers announced that your gate was opening in only 10 minutes. Your eyes met Lisa’s as both of you got up to walk to your gate. Your movements were slow as you walked, your hands entwined.
When you arrived, you were surprised to find Jungkook standing in front of the gate, legs clad in black jeans, a black hoodie thrown on top, hair a complete mess. His chest was heaving, his eyes searching the crowd franticly before they met with yours.
His lips formed your name and you felt a smile creeping on your face. He run towards you and you opened your arms to welcome him. His body hit yours like a tidal wave, as he gathered you up in his arms, crashing his body on yours as if he was trying to consume you.
Giggles bubbled through you as you felt his arms tighten around you. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in, the all too familiar scent of his aftershave, cigarettes and soap.
“I just couldn’t let you go” he mumbled in your ear.
Your eyes filled with tears as you drew back, desperate to get one good look at him. He let you, your eyes locking in an intense stare. You raised your hand, softly running it threw his hair as his eyes fell shut, melting into your touch.
A million questions rushed through your head. How did he get here? Why? Why now? Why him? You silenced your mind, choosing to savor the moment, burying your face in his neck once more as his hands moved to wrap tightly around your waist.
Breaking apart for the last time, you smiled at him as he did the same.
“Maybe they’ll be a time for us again. We’ll find our way back to each other” you said.
“Yeah?” he asked innocently.
“Yes.” You said with certainty, reaching up and placing a small peck on his lips.
Then, you left him, turning to hold your best friend once more. She squeezed you with all the strength she had and you did the same. Moving back, you raised your pinky and she didn’t hesitate to lock it with her own.
“Fuck you” you said simultaneously, an old tradition, a token of your friendship.
Having said your good byes, you moved towards the gate, your steps sure and steady. After the employees checked your ticket, you were allowed to pass through.
Turning back one last time, you waved to them, sat close together near the gate. You could tell Lisa was crying now and you mentally thanked Jungkook for being there for her, hand across her shoulders. With that last wave, you took a step forward, a step closer towards your new life.
After the bad sleep you had the previous night, it came as no surprise to you that you drifted off not even halfway into the movie you had picked to watch on the flight. You were awoken by a flight attendant softly tapping your shoulder and informing you that you were about to land.
The nerves decided to kick in at that exact moment, making your leg bounce uncontrollably throughout the landing. The woman that sat next to you eyed you closely, but you hardly noticed her stare. You almost darted up from your seat the minute you touched the ground, but you quickly composed yourself, trying to calm down and have some patience for the few remaining moments.
When the ‘seatbelts on’ sign was turned off, everyone around you bounced to their feet. You too followed their suit, pulling on your coat and gathering all your things. With your purse perched up on your shoulder, you disembarked from the plane, only for you to get lost in a river of counters, checks and searches.
After all the necessary procedures were over, you were finally able to stand in line and wait for your suitcase which gave you the perfect opportunity to take out your phone to text your mom and Lisa. After shooting out quick texts to both of them that you landed safely, you rummaged through your coat’s pockets for your earphones. Having located them, you plugged them in, opening up Spotify and leaving your favourite songs to play on shuffle.
Familiar lyrics flowed in your ear, lyrics you had heard only hours before as ‘Strawberries and Cigarettes’ played, Troye Sivan’s voice taking over your senses, clouding your thoughts, leaving you confused and dizzy. Why Spotify? Why would it play here, on your new beginning? Why couldn’t you escape him?
But then again, you knew that you’d carry Jungkook inside you for a long time yet. He wasn’t an easy person to escape and you weren’t ready to let him go. Maybe this was teaching each other fate. The smile grew on your lips unbeknownst to you as you realized just that:
The last chapter of your story hadn’t been written just yet.
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More Hearts Than Mine: Part 1
“Are you safe? Are you warm?” Your mom's southern accent dripping like honey, filtered through your cellphone that was propped against your shoulder and your ear.
“Mom,” you sighed for the fourth time that hour, “I’m in New York City, not the Antarctic.”
You could state the difference between the famous city and the famous icy continent until you were blue in the face, but it hadn't seemed to matter to your mother. Whether you were in NYC or in the Bahamas, she would always worry about your health and wellbeing.
Especially when it came to being cold.
“Don't sass talk your mother.” Your dad called from the background, his voice teetering on the edge of veiled force.
“Yes sir.” You rolled your eyes and switched your phone from the left side to the right, keeping that fine balance as you moved and shuffled a few boxes in your assigned apartment deep within Stark Tower.
“Do you need me to send money? I know how expensive the big city can be and I just want you to be able to live without worrying about bills.” Your mom crooned through the phone, her concern deepening after your last phone call.
“I told you mom,” you turned your head when you heard your roommate closed the apartment door, “I’m interning at Stark Tower. The room and board is free and all I need to pay for is my food.”
The sound of your roommate moving throughout the small apartment to her bedroom, was the focus of your attention. Hearing her heavy footsteps on the wood floors as she stomped around after an intense first day of agent training, echoed even in your room.
It was the third time this week that she had come back to your shared place exhausted and done with the day, done with attempting to be stealthy and quiet. She chose to come home with a great deal of noise, relieving the day's tensions by stomping around.
“They don't have food in the city like we have here.” It was your mom's turn to sigh. “Should I send you a care package sweetheart? Maybe some freshly baked biscuits? Or how about some sweet potato pie? Pound cake?”
Every thing your mom list off had made your stomach grumble and the homesickness you'd long thought gone, come back with vigor. You missed your family's aged country home and the big red barn by the back of the house.
You missed the breeze that ripped through the tall grass in the fields, relief from the sweltering heat. You missed the invigorating smell of rain before a thunderstorm, and the sound of the raindrops hitting the panes of glass in your room.
“Mom,” it pained you to turn her down, “save the baked goods for the church's summer bake-off. You know Prudence is coming for your title.”
“She can try.” Your mom scoffed into the phone, then sighed again. “We miss you sweetheart. Please come home soon.”
Your roommates door slammed and the loud vibrations from her chosen music for the night made your walls shake and the floor feel like it was alive. It was the start of the music that had you annoyed beyond normalcy, and it was the end of your conversation with your mother that had you falling back on the bed, a pillow over your face to block out the noise.
“Have you thought more about it?” Natasha tilt her head, watched Bucky as he was distantly watching a passing crowd of interns.
“Thought about what, Nat?” He muttered and mumbled, eyes scouring the crowds.
“About being set up on a blind date? You said it yourself, you want what Steve has.” Natasha blew her bangs out of her face as she leaned forward, rest her elbows on the edge of the railing.
Bucky cast a glance her way, his blue eyes roaming her face watching the pensive look take hold and fall, only to settle on her face again. She was in as deep of thought as Bucky had been, only the thoughts that consumed her were weighed heavily in the regret she felt over not taking her own slice of happiness when she had the chance.
She had a relationship and she was happy, but with the responsibilities of being an Avenger and having a whole department of agents and interns under her belt had caused a great divide between her and her partner. Soon the healthy aspects of her relationship had turned sour and bitter, and the relationship she once was so happy in, was decimated.
“I’m not interested in a blind date.” Bucky turned Natasha down as kindly as possible, while keeping the closely guarded secret that he had actually met someone weeks before.
It was enough interaction almost every morning during the coming weeks to pique Bucky’s interest. And he had finally felt like he was at a place where he could ask someone on a date without feeling guilty of his past and the red in his ledger.
“Who is she?” Natasha turned away from the crowd below and faced Bucky head on. “Come on, tell me Barnes.”
Bucky had known just basic details about the woman who went to the same coffee shop and ordered the same drink almost every time. He had a name, and a best guess at an age, basic likes and dislikes.
But the most telling was the snippets of conversation he picked up when the woman was on the phone.
The woman's family was from the south and the accent smooth like honey to match, would slip out every once in a while. He knew the woman was from the south based off the ‘sirs' and the ‘ma'am’s directed toward the woman's parents when they would call.
He remembered a few good men he had fought in the war with, who were from Texas, also using that respectful dialect when talking to their parents. The soldiers used the respectful terms of ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ much in the same way you had.
Still, he felt like he had to keep the woman a secret from Natasha.
At least for now.
He didn't want to get her hopes up; didn't want her to get invested in something that wasn't even in existence yet.
“I will,” Bucky squeezed her shoulder, “eventually.”
*GIF's are only for aesthetics and to set the general tone of what is going on. They in no way personify what the reader actually looks like*
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A lot like ‘Us’
Word count: 3.8K
Pairing: Sam X Reader AU
Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.
Warnings: None for this chapter
A/N: I am so excited to share this story. I am really loving it <3 This is also written for @sdavid09 ‘s Tale Teller’s 2020 Bingo Challenge.
Beta: My amazing girls @deanssweetheart23 and @anathewierdo Thank you!! I love you both <3
Finally the last of the boxes had been pushed up the five stories of stairs and into your living room. The guy from the movers quickly accepted the payment and disappeared before you could even utter “thanks.” You didn’t blame him. Anyone would be over eager to leave after hauling boxes up the stairs given that the lift randomly stopped working.
You were just relieved that none of his men got stuck inside. That would have been awful. He complained about the sort of shitshows the rental buildings in the locality were, but all things considered, he had been pretty nice about the untimely disaster.
You closed the door behind and slid to the floor, glad that you didn’t have to smile for strangers anymore.
The lift might have been a shitshow, but the flat you were renting was really nice. It had two bedrooms, a living room and a small kitchenette. The flat had only one bathroom, but the grand balcony on the other side of the living room all but made up for it. You got off the floor and made your way towards the balcony. It overlooked a small meadow of sorts, and the entry wall beyond it was high and covered with thick vines. Right in the middle, was a small fountain in the shape of a mermaid, carved out of what must have been once pristine white marble. The mermaid had a mysterious look on her face, like she knew your secret, and was contemplating if it would fetch a good gossip. In her hand, she held a beautifully carved flask, from which the water fell into the basin below.
It was like being in your own space, enclosed in this beautiful Caribbean meadow. That was until a voice called your attention.
You looked sideways to find an Asian guy who couldn’t have been more than 20 waving at buy. You waved back awkwardly.
“So, I see you’ve met judgy Judy!”
He tilted his head towards the mermaid. “That’s judgy Judy.” he said, smiling. “If you happen to walk past her after 12 in the night, you are bestowed upon the judgiest of looks. And if you’re drunk…” he let out his breath in whoosh.
You laughed, then were surprised at the sound of it. You didn’t laugh this easily.
“My name’s Kevin,” the boy said. “Kevin Tran. Aren’t you the new girl renting 502? Meg?”
You shook your head. “I’m Y/N, actually. Meg won’t be here until Wednesday.”
You knew nothing about your roommate except that she loved her privacy. That was her only demand in the advert. That she was looking for someone who knew of basic hygiene and didn’t poke their nose in her business. You couldn’t argue with that.
He smiled, “So what brings you here, Y/N?”
Before you could answer, Kevin put out his hands excitedly. “Wait! let me guess. You’re a pastry chef, looking to start your own little bakery in this quaint little town.”
You rolled your eyes. That was about as far as he could get from why you were here.
He caught on. “No… no… you’re an artist? Looking for inspiration?”
You pursed your lips, trying not to smile. “I’m actually starting the year at the Law school.”
Kevin whistled. “Law school, huh?” Then added, “Hey, what do I know? I’m just an engineer!”
You sized him up. He looked too young to be a professional.
He raised his hands up, “I know, I know what you’re thinking,” he said and you instantly felt guilty about judging anyone by their looks. Judgy Judy would be proud.
“You’re thinking why would I live out of the city,” he said and you breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s ‘cause San Francisco is boring. Besides, I get to work from home a lot, and it’s an hours drive anyway.”
“Seems fair,” you said. He didn’t ask you why you weren’t staying in the official campus dorms. Maybe he had already done the mental math and figured out that the Law building was less than a ten minute walk from here. Besides, most of Stanford was a student town anyway. This building was closer to the college than even the Faculty residence.
“Hey, Y/N,” Kevin said genially, “Why don’t you join us for dinner? It’s just me and my roommate Jack. We can order some pizza and pop some beers. It’ll be cool. That way you don’t have to worry about cooking in the middle of all that unpacking.”
It was starting to get chilly outside, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I’m not much a drinker.”
“That’s fine,” he said, unfazed. “We have soda, if you want.”
You hesitated, “Thanks, Kevin, really. Maybe some other time.”
You waved at his somewhat confused face and stepped inside, closing the glass doors of the balcony behind you.
If Kevin thought you were weird, he’d get used to it like everyone in your life. He would get used to not talking, stealing glances and the fact that you weren’t exactly the sort of person people wanted around in fun times. He’d learn to ignore you like everyone else.
Most of the weekend was spent trying to put your room together. There really wasn’t much to your belongings except books and some clothes, which you arranged as neatly as you could. If the blaring music on your speakers disturbed Kevin and his roommate, neither of them complained.
On Monday, you attended orientation lectures by a few alumni and the Dean. It all seemed like a dream to you. On Tuesday, they had a pre-law show you around in groups, the grand campus that was Stanford University. By the end, you were biased about the Law building being the best, maybe because you had dreamt of being here day and night for as long as you could remember. The Law school wasn’t a grand facade. It was functional and built in a pale beige sandstone which had weathered wonderfully over the years. The corridors were breezy and opened on to landscaped spill out spaces … and the building itself seemed to breathe through the tactfully placed fenestrations.
The pre-law showing your group around the campus talked and talked and talked, while you followed her dumbfounded at the expanse of it all. One day, you’d get used to this, you knew that… but that day was nowhere near close. In fact, it had barely even registered that you had done it! That you had actually been accepted into Stanford and that you were going to be a lawyer!
Stanford had twenty libraries. Twenty. The place that you absolutely fell in love with was the Cecil H. Green library. The high, vaulted ceiling made you feel like you had stepped right into the Victorian era. The rows and rows of shelves absolutely boggled your mind. You could live here and it still wouldn’t be enough.
You touched the richly colored mahogany table in the library and unwillingly, like it was the most inevitable thing in the world, you thought of him. The look in his eyes when he talked about this very place. “Y/N,” he’d say “You’re gonna fall in love with the smell of those books!”
You immediately yanked your hand from the table, as if a current had passed through your body. The girl next to you, looked over. “Everything alright?” she asked kindly.
You nodded and moved away from the piece of furniture. You couldn’t think about him now, not here. So, you took a couple of deep breaths and closed your eyes, focussing on the things around you, the long shelves, the smooth tables. And it eased some, you could feel your chest constrict a little.
Meanwhile, the guide talked on.
“Water?” The girl next to you offered as you all stepped out of the library. You needed it, but that meant talking to her, and you weren’t sure you were up for that.
“C’mon, take it,” she insisted, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You took the bottle and splashed some water on your face, then took two gulps, feeling better immediately. The water tasted funny, but in a refreshing way.
You looked at what was inside.
The girl laughed. “It’s cucumber water,” she said. “I figured we’d be doing a lot of walking today and this is a saviour.”
“Thanks,” you said, actually looking at her properly. She had a slim build, with dark brown hair and eyes. Despite knowing that they would be walking a lot, she was dressed in a black pencil skirt and a flowy baby blue blouse, with matching heels. She was carrying all that effortlessly without breaking a sweat, while you were wearing your most worn pair of comfortable jeans, a sweater and sneakers. You did notice that she looked really pretty and when she smiled, it reached her eyes.
“Better?” She asked
“Much. Thank you.”
She put her hand forward. “I’m Madison. Madison Maxwell.”
“Y/N Y/L/N.” You shook her hand.
The others had already gone ahead while she had waited for you to catch your breath and drink water. You started walking together.
“So, excited for the classes to begin?” She asked peppily and you nodded.
You figured that Madison was the sort to fill every silence with words. After a while, she was going to be really disappointed in you for your lack of responses or initiating a conversation.
As you walked, Madison told you everything that she could about herself in the span of the couple minutes it took you to reach the rest of the group. She was born and brought up in Pasadena, to a lawyer dad and a socialite mom. “I feel like my mom was born as a socialite! Her first words were probably, ‘well, hullo, Dahling!”
You laughed, and encouraged by your reaction she continued. She was a pre-grad in sociology from USC, where she was voted the most likely to charm people with her smile (seemed fair). She had two older brothers both lawyers in their Dad’s bigass firm, and they lived in this huge house overlooking a hugeass swimming pool. Her words, not yours.
The fact she was rich was pretty much in your face, from the gucci bottle filled with cucumber water to the Prada shoes, but it wasn’t because she was pushing it… she was just used to it.
“What about you?” She asked as you reached the group. “Where are you from?”
“Kansas,” you said.
“And?” She coaxed good naturedly.
“And I did my pre-law from University in Texas.”
“That’s nice. What about your parents?”
You looked down. “They died in a car crash when I was little.”
“Oh no!” Madison gasped. She looked like she was about to tear up.
“It’s okay,” you said quickly, offering her a smile. “I’ve made my peace with it.” It was true. You’d had twenty odd years to adjust to it. It was a way of life now.
Madison still gave you an apologetic smile, but thankfully, for the rest of the tour she didn’t talk much. It wasn’t that Madison wasn’t charming, but everyone charming usually expected the same from you… and you weren’t. Why pitch her up for disappointment?
“So, see you tomorrow, Y/N?” She asked, tentatively.
Poor girl, you thought. “See you,” you said. “It was nice meeting you, Madison.”
“Likewise,” she said brightly.
You watched her walk over to another group of girls, all dressed fancily,who squealed when they saw Madison. You shook your head, smiling to yourself that Madison had found some kindred spirits.
It didn’t explain why she had been so nice to you all day though. If she already had friends, she didn’t have to care about you, right?
It took you a while to figure out which was your exit. Roaming around in the campus as it was dark, was anxiety inducing. Yet, a voice in the back of your head kept telling you how the Oval was at the centre of the campus, and the Law building was just to the south east. You didn’t want to hear the voice, hell you didn’t even want to think about whom the voice belonged to, but slowly and surely it guided you back to the gate closest to your flat. Once you reached it, you made a run for it, not stopping till you were inside the tall building gate and into the meadow. You ran into Kevin.
“Y/N!” He said, “I didn’t see you there.” Next to him was another boy, dirty blonde hair and a smiling face. “This is Jack. Remember, I told you about him?”
Jack took one look at you and concern rippled across his face, “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, just tired,” you whispered.
Before any of them could say another word, you dashed up the stairs.
“The lift is working again!” Kevin called after you, but you bolted into your room without halting. Once you were inside, you locked the door behind and you rolled into a ball on your unmade bed, finally letting the tears make their way.
You knew this was coming, you knew it the moment you set foot in this town that it would remind you of him… the way he smiled, the way he ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous… the way you loved him. Over the years you had trained yourself to snap out of it whenever your thoughts even inched towards him. You could shut it off and just stop thinking. It had taken years and years of practice, but finally you could lock him in the darkest part of your mind and not look at it. Not feel anything for him. In return, you barely felt anything at all. About anything, about anyone.
In the long run, you preferred that bargain, though. The numbness.
And after spending so much time in it, the numbness felt homely. It cushioned you against the pain and the memories. So what if it cushioned you against feeling anything at all, too? At least this way you were functional. You could get through the day and be productive. Besides, who did you have to live for except yourself, anyway? So it was okay to just survive. To just feel enough for you to feel human. At one point even that had felt like an impossible feat.
You tried not to remember the days and nights wishing for the endless pain to end, wishing to just give up on everything, on life. At least now you didn’t feel that way. You had re-learned to aspire, to work hard. You didn’t feel hopeful anymore, but you had a goal set in mind and you were willing to work as hard as you could to fulfill it.
Most of the time, you managed to block out all unwanted noise in your head and outside, and just concentrate on surviving. It will have to suffice till one day you could actually start living.
But once in a while the box cracked, like today, and all the memories came spinning out. In the library, somehow Madison’s prattling had kept you from spiralling. Now, there was no one to help. The thoughts simply overwhelmed you and you shut your ears, rolling into a smaller ball, as flashes of light from that night flared behind your closed eyes, the rain pouring down on you and all the blood. The thing you remembered most clearly was the cold. The skin-numbing, bone chilling cold as the water soaked through you.
You woke up to the blaring alarm. It was 7:15 in the morning.
You jumped out of bed and then immediately slipped, landing on the floor with the thud. You cursed again as you got to your feet and rushed into the bathroom. Not only had you overslept, but last night you hadn’t even gone through your schedule of classes and lectures. The plan had been to wake up at 6, and go through the schedule once more, which you should have had studied last night, wear the perfect first day clothes that you should have picked out last night, and reach early to the classroom which you should have already figured out before 8 in the morning.
At 8 in the morning, however, you were still trying to shimmy yourself into the only formal skirt you owned. You quickly threw on the first decent shirt that you could find and tied your hair in a ponytail, then made your way out of the apartment without breakfast. Your bag was threatening to spill out the laptop and notebook you carried as you all but ran across the street to get to the campus.
By some extreme luck, you remembered the building perfectly. With a quick look through the schedule and the help of a very offended senior, you finally made your way to the class, completely out of breath by 8:20. Even though your hair was falling out of the ponytail, you were covered in sweat and your shoes were permanently damaged, you were miraculously ten minutes early.
The classroom was huge and circular. It was stepped upwards, with desks curving around to focus downwards on the podium at centre, right underneath the big projecting screen mounted on the opposite wall. If you had entered the normal way, you would have probably entered through one of the two doors at the top of the class, but with your luck, you had obviously entered through the one door at the bottom, presumably which the faculty used. This way you had to climb up all the way to an empty spot with over a hundred people staring down at you in your hassled state.
“Smooth,” a blonde guy from the third row muttered as you began climbing.
“Y/N! Hey, Y/N,” a voice called. “Over here!”
You saw Madison waving at you from the corner seat on one of the top rows. A few people were looking at where the commotion was coming from. To avoid more of it, you hurried towards her.
“Saved you a seat!” she said, moving her books from the seat next to her, to make space.
“Thank you,” you said gratefully. The three girls seated on the other side of her, gave you a curious look. The sort that is given to old cheese, wondering if it has gone stale.
“Girls,” Madison said, “This is Y/N. Y/N, these are Lacey, Meredith and Rebecca.” In your harrowed state, you only remembered that the brunette with long hair was Lacey.
“Aren’t you excited?” Madison asked, smelling like she had stepped straight out of a beautiful orchard, while you were sweating bullets.
“Mhmm,” you said. Madison went on to talk about how excited she was for this particular lecture, while you hurriedly set out your laptop, and readied your papers.
“He’s just so dreamy and hot,” Madison gushed and the other girls nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe we have him for the first lecture.”
“How are we supposed to concentrate?” One of the girls wailed.
Like that was really a problem.
“Civil Procedure,” you read from the time table, quickly going through the syllabus, not even looking at the professor’s name the girls were raving about. In your experience, the content mattered, not who was teaching it.
There was a sudden ruffling, and everyone quieted at once.
“Sorry, I’m a little late,” an apologetic voice said.
It was 8:32, you thought absentmindedly, as you looked up from the papers, that was hardly late. That voice felt like long forgotten music.
The professor was facing the board, printing “Civil Procedure.”
When he turned, the floor dropped from under your feet.
He wore a light grey suit, with a striped tie and a white button up shirt, and stood tall against the black board. His soft brown hair was long and silky, curling slightly at his collar, and even though from this far you couldn’t see the colour, his hazel eyes were warm and slightly abashed.
“My name’s Sam Winchester,” he said, the words each felt like a separate stab to your gut. “I'll be taking the Civil Procedure Module for this semester and the next. And, I’m usually never late… especially in the courtroom.”
Some laughter ran around the room. He gave it a minute acknowledging it with a smile, then opened his laptop, and a tech hurried over to set it up.
“While Paul here is helping me with the wires, let me introduce myself more fully,” he said, leaning against the table. “I did my pre-law from right here at Stanford, so I’m still your senior. You all better be respectful.” More laughter rang around. “Then, I went to Yale for law school. I’ve practiced in New York for two years before moving to California, and practicing in LA for a few more. I currently work as the Senior Associate at Acton Griswold in San Francisco. You guys heard of it?”
“Is he kidding?” Lacey whispered. “Who hasn’t heard of Acton Griswold?”
“You’re even paying attention to what he’s saying?,” said the girl next to Lacey. “I can’t get over the way he looks. What is he? 30? Hot damn!”
“I have to impress him,” Madison muttered, though her voice had become softer. “I need that internship at Acton Griswold.”
On the podium Paul was done setting up the laptop, and Sam walked over to it opening the presentation. He pulled out frameless glasses from the box and slid them up his long pointed nose.
“Damn!” Lacey said again.
Your vision was tunneling in, and the room was spinning around you. Nothing made sense anymore. Not where you were, not what you were doing. Nothing mattered except the fact that he was standing there, right in front of you.
You could hear the rustling of papers, and the tap-tap of fingers hitting keys. while you just sat there numbly, not knowing what to do, not caring what was happening, or how long it had been.
“Y/N? Y/N?” Madison was calling your name. “Are you okay? You look really clammy.”
Maybe she had been calling you for a while because a few people ahead of you turned to look, visibly annoyed. and it was in slow motion, almost reluctantly, as if to seek the source of disturbance that Sam’s eyes found you.
A second passed and you could see them widen, then freeze in absolute shock. Unadulterated and profound shock.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You muttered, then grabbed your laptop and your bag and rushed out of the door at the top, without caring about the papers you had spilt… and bolted across the corridor, without a sense of direction till you found yourself in a toilet cubicle, locked and in hysterics.
This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not ever.
You had closed that chapter of your life, fled as far away as you could and yet, and yet he was right here. Sam was so close to you, how had your heart not known?
A lot like ‘Us’ Masterlist
A/N 2: SO WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK? Are we off with a good start?
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