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crystaljins · 3 years

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River lead me home | 09 FINAL

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Ahhh. We’re finally here. At the ending.

I feel like so much happened since I started writing this fic. I’ve been through so many ups and downs, and so have my characters. And you guys are probably the same; I wonder what adventures you guys went on as I posted this? I hope they were fun ones.

Anyway, thank you for sticking around for this long journey home. I hope you enjoy the final chapter, and I hope you enjoyed following these guys on their adventure.

Till next time, my loves.

Tags: @blue1928 @veeparkersstuff

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

It’s a long journey home. The three of you stay with the mice long enough to see the first of the recovered victims poke their little noses out of their burrows. The mayor, a harried, round little mouse with hay coloured fur and absurdly long whiskers, cannot express his gratitude deeply enough, other than to procure the three of you a comfortable stay in a nearby inn.

The journey back is only slightly less fraught with danger. The Saishtas think the two of you are dead, and not long after you part ways with the mice, new begins to circulate in the local areas that the might, evil Saishta queen has died and that her kingdom has fallen into disarray. You come across one or two of the insidious lizardpeoples after that but none of them approach or acknowledge you. Why bother, when they failed to save their queen?

After hearing that news, it’s more of a relaxed journey. You all head on from town to town, purchasing supplies and another bed roll for Jungkook. Jin is strangely eager to spend what little currency you have on the most comfortable bedroll he can find, and when Jungkook suggests he just continues to share in the interest of saving funds, Jin nearly has an aneurysm.

Jin’s behaviour is probably the strangest part of the journey. He’s not cold or standoffish like he normally is when having a crisis, but he’s definitely gentler. More reserved but also warmer. It’s not unwelcome. In fact, you can’t help but wonder. If the war had never come, would this be the life you had with Jin? Endless adventures amongst the thrilling dangers of your home realm?

You bring the thought up to Jin and Jungkook one night, while the three of you huddle together over a fire, snacking on some of the dried meats you’d purchased from the last town.

Jin looks surprised at the thought.

“I’ve always thought it would be you and Taehyung going on the big adventures.” He points out. “The two of you were never able to hold still, even for a moment.” His smile is warm and fond as he recalls your childhood.

“You’d have been dragged along.” Jungkook counters through a particularly chewy mouthful. “You’d probably be married to (Y/N) and forced to follow her around keep her out of trouble.”

Oddly, you expect Jin to flush, or protest, or attempt to strangle Jungkook. You certainly feel a bit flushed at the thought. But Jin is unfazed- he merely offers a secretive smile and tilts his head curiously at you. You couldn’t decipher the look if you tried, but it has your throat feeling tight.

You change the conversation topic after that, but it’s not the only way that Jin has changed. A few days later, the three of you are attempting to cross a little slippery creek when you lose your footing.

You stumble over a few rocks and land on your hands and knees. Even in the deepest part of the creek it only comes up to your mid-thighs when you are on all fours.

Jin skids to a stop beside you, crouching before you in the water. He doesn’t seem to care about the way his clothes become soaked.

“Are you hurt?” He demands. You take stock of your injuries- a scraped knee, a bruised shin, the palms of your hands rubbed raw. Nothing that won’t be gone in an hour or two.

“I’m fine.” You reassure him.

He nods awkwardly for a moment and then offers “I could kiss it better?”

It takes you a few blinks to comprehend his words, and even then, it makes you re-evaluate the severity of your injuries.

“What?” You demand, shocked. He shrugs and looks away.

“Like when we were kids. I could kiss it better. You used to always refuse to stop crying until I kissed you. We could try that again.” He offers nonchalantly. You must have hit your head. It’s the only explanation. You can only stare, your mouth dropped into an “o”.

“I guess that’s a no.” Jin finally says, oddly sulky in the way he says it. “Just thought I’d offer.”

You wish you could say that it’s the strangest of his behaviour, but it’s not. The rest of the journey goes like that- if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think Jin was flirting. Albeit, in a weirdly awkward, tentative way. Even Jungkook notices it.

“Do you think he’s finally gone mad? Maybe the extreme social media detox has made all his brain cells shrivel up and die.” Jungkook whispers conspiratorially one night while the two of you wonder a small village that is throwing a little festival. Colourful lanterns line the streets and the various creatures that inhabit the village are dressed in bright colours. Jin had decided to stay back at the inn but the two of you had wanted to explore.

“It’s the only logical explanation.” You concede, as much as it physically pains you to agree with Jungkook in anything.

“All I have to say is, if this is how he flirts I have no idea how he gets so many dates.” Jungkook laments, and your eyes widen.

“Stop.” You laugh. “He’s not flirting. It’s Jin. He thinks of me like an unwanted houseplant.”

“What if he didn’t, though?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His gaze is probing, and the mood is oddly serious for what you thought was a joking conversation.

“What?” You ask, caught off-guard.

“What if he’s actually flirting? Hypothetically. What would you do?” He questions.

You go silent, as you contemplate your answer. Honestly, you’re not stupid enough to entertain the thought of Jin liking you back. But something about Jungkook’s earnestness has you genuinely considering it.

“I don’t know.” You finally admit. You sigh, suddenly feeling tired.

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks, tentative and almost gentle. He tilts his head curiously. “Do you like him?”

The question startles you. It feels like it’s been so long since you came to term with your feelings that you forgot not everyone else was aware of your revelation. Honestly, even to yourself it had filtered to the back of your mind. An unchanging fact, rarely acknowledged. The sky is blue. Jungkook is annoying. You are in love with Kim Seokjin.

“I do.” You finally admit. You’re reaching the end of the street where most of the festivities are taking place- the crowd is thinning and more distance separates each lantern.

“Then, if he were flirting... wouldn’t the answer be that you’d date him?” Jungkook asks. He’s pulling a face like he’s working out a rather complex maths problem. “Why don’t you know what you’d do?”

The two of you settle at the end of the street. Roughly hewn chairs are scattered randomly across the little square. In the corner, a large, greyish being snoozes, and a small group of little humanoid trees laugh over something and chatter in a foreign language.

“I feel like there’s too much to sort out first. Like... to date him I’d have to be better. I’d have to have a job. And I’d have to have apologised to my mother. I’d need to stop spongeing off the people around me. And maybe live out of home. Be a proper, human adult.” You list. “The me that I am now... I couldn’t date Jin. I’m not... I’m not...”

“Good enough?” Jungkook finishes the words gently. There’s a sad look in his eyes, and it surprises you.

You nod.

“Yeah.” You admit, and your voice is oddly choked. It’s weird- you had thought you were at peace with your feelings. You were meant to be happy with whatever scraps of affection Jin threw your way. But you’re not- there’s a deep, miserable ache in your chest that won’t go away.

Jungkook uses his sleeves to dab at the tears you didn’t even know were slipping down your cheeks.

“For what it’s worth,” Jungkook offers. “Jin doesn’t actually care about that stuff. The only reason he makes a big deal out of it is because he thinks you’ll be happy if all that stuff works out.” He tells you. “And hey. Someone once told me that the best things are the scariest to start- maybe this is one of those times?”

After that, you call it a night, and Jungkook doesn’t bring the topic up again. But you can’t forget his words. The closer to the portal the three of you draw, the more the ache in your chest grows; the closer you get to going back to normal life. What happens to you and Jin when you step back into the human realm?

What if Jungkook’s words are true? Would you... would you have to return to normal? Could you have more? Is it stupid that a part of your stupid, traitorous heart longed for it to be true with each new step towards home?

There’s a surefire way to find out; if you ask him. But you can’t. The words die in your throat every time you even consider it. You remember how he freaked out when Jungkook suggested it earlier on the trip. He likely already knows your feelings despite your denial, and it is only your constant denial otherwise that allows the two of you to exist in this strange limbo. If you stopped denying them, he’d have to address those feelings and then what? It would be back to square one- the avoidance and awkwardness as you cling to the shambles of your friendship.

You can’t go back to that- you’ve fought so hard to fix what is between you, to salvage things. Would it be worth risking it, just in the hopes that you and Jin could be more?

The night before you reach the portal, all the nerves and worries you have build up to the point that you find yourself gazing up listlessly at the canopy overhead. The branches interlace and you can perk glimpses of the stars beyond. This is the last glimpse you will get of these stars. You have already decided you won’t come back here. It’s time to stop looking back and only look forward.

Yet, despite your resolve, despite everything, sleep evades you. Tomorrow, real life awaits. An existential sort of dread has gripped you.

With a sigh, you sit up. To your right, Jungkook has curled into a tight ball as he peacefully rests. But to your surprise, Jin’s bedroll is empty. You’re surprised you didn’t hear him move.

It doesn’t take long to locate him. Only a short distance away, where the vegetation is a bit lighter and a clear patch of sky shimmers overhead, Jin lounges peacefully. He gazes thoughtfully up at the sky overhead as the starlight gilds his face in breathtaking silver.

Wordlessly, you step towards him. A twig snaps beneath your feet and Jin whirls around in surprise. When he spots you, he smiles and gentle pats the open space beside him.

Awkwardly, you settle beside him, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He questions, his eyes closed serenely. The soft sound of wind and distant sounds of wildlife filters through the night air.

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice heavy with a sigh. He blinks open one eye to peer curiously at you. It’s the most relaxed and open you’ve seen him in a long time. “What about you? You couldn’t sleep either?”

Jin shrugs.

“I could have.” He informs you. “But I thought I’d enjoy my last night in this realm instead.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. Jin has made it clear throughout the trip that this journey has been anything but enjoyable.

“Enjoy?” You say, only slightly incredulous. He nods and opens both eyes to stare up the sky.

“I’m as shocked as you.” He concedes. “This place has only ever meant bad things to me. It’s why I could never understand your fixation with it.”

You grimace.

“I kind of get it now, though.” He admits, before you can complain to him. “It’s a pretty beautiful place.”

“What changed your mind?” You ask, your curiosity piqued. Jin shrugs.

“You did.” He answers simply.

“M-me?” You’re not sure why you stutter; perhaps it is the strange look to his eyes as he turns fully to face you. He pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his cheek against them, watching you lazily.

“Yup.” He says, as if it’s the easiest confession in the world. “When I used to think about this place, all I could think about was the night we fled. My dad didn’t even time to wash the blood off his hands. He grabbed me by the wrist and held on so tight I had bruises. I didn’t want to remember that. I didn’t want to remember the place that had caused us so much pain. And you... you were such a shell. I felt like one of my best friends had died in this realm and I was so angry at what it had taken from me.” His gaze is distant with recollection. “And then I was mad at you, because you couldn’t forget no matter what I did.” He gazes at you. “But now it’s finally given me something.”

You’re startled, by his heartfelt words. You’ve always known Jin hated this realm, hated the way the beings of this realm had driven you all out. But you didn’t know you had such a huge role in his opinion of it. “You.” He finishes. “So I guess I can’t really hate this place after all.”

You’re struck speechless in that moment, and your heart swells with an overwhelming feeling. You already know you love the man before you, but in that moment, you’re shocked at just how much. A feeling bubbles up at the base of your chest- your heart feels fit to burst.

“What do you mean?” You ask- is this feeling hope? What does Jin mean, when he says the realm gave him you?

Jin merely shrugs.

“I’ll let you speculate.” He tells you, shooting you a coy smile, an oddly cheeky look that he’s given to his friends before but never to you. But then his expression shifts into something more serious. “I think there are more pressing things to discuss first, though. Like why you’re sitting here with me instead of sleeping?”

The warm feeling from earlier instantly evaporates as you recall the reason for your melancholy.

“I guess I’m just nervous.” You confess. “About going home. I’ve... I’ve really enjoyed this trip. And I’m excited to go home. But I’m just so...” you struggle to find the word. “So...”

“Nervous?” Jin suggests. He shuffles so he’s just a bit closer. His shoulder brushes yours- if you extended your neck, you could rest your head against his broad shoulders. A strange electricity buzzes through your body at the thought- it reminds you of your fight over the fungus a few days ago. The air had felt strangely charged then as well.

“Yeah.” You admit, swallowing past a dry throat. “There’s a lot to do, back home.”

“Back home?” Jin echoes, and then his smile turns warm. His mouth carefully forms the word “home” and his eyes wrinkle into two joyous crescent moon shapes. “I guess there is.” He acknowledges. “But you’ve already made the first step. You’re calling the human realm home.”

That startles you. Obviously, it is your home. But you hadn’t realised how instinctive that had become until this moment; at some point the human realm had stopped being that uncomfortable alien place, and had become the place you’re meant to go back to. Home. Jin watches you process the words carefully before he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be nervous.” He tells you softly. The tone to his voice is oddly vulnerable and delicate. Something delicate hovers between you like the flutter of a pixie’s wing. “You said you wanted to work things out together, right? So, you don’t have to be nervous because I’ll be there with you.”

He looks away and his expression is surprisingly shy. “I know you said I don’t have to be the guy with it all worked out, but I still want to try. It makes me happy. Being there for you. So even if you’re nervous... we’ll work it out together, right?”

It is that exact moment that you figure it out. Earlier, you had been uneasy at Jungkook’s line of questioning. You didn’t feel worthy of Jin’s love and affection, and that made you afraid. Because you couldn’t bear to lose him. You still can’t bear to lose him. But gazing into the warm eyes before you, you know you won’t ever lose him. The two of you have braved death together- you’ll make it through anything.

You feel lighter then, and you offer Jin a smile.

“Thank you.” You whisper. Jin smiles back.

“Any time.” He whispers back to you in answer.

Sleep comes easily after that, and so too does the end of your journey. All too soon you stand before the portal back home.

The trip feels like it’s taken a thousand years and no time at all at the same time. By your calculation, the entire journey has taken almost a month, with all the detours and misadventures. That means almost six hours have passed in the human realm. Jin has almost definitely missed his dinner plans, and your mother is probably starting to wonder why you aren’t home yet.

“What will you do, when you go back?” Jin asks. Jungkook has already stepped through and you’re surprised that Jin is making conversation now, of all times.

“Apologise to my mother.” You say easily. “What about you?”

“I’m going to save my snapchat streaks and apologise to Joon.” Jin shares. He’s nervously twisting his fingers together. The energy he gives off is like an uneasy teenager about to do a huge public speech. It’s a big contrast from the person her was last night. Like he’s bracing himself for something.

You thought you’d be bracing yourself too. On the other side is hard work and futile dreams and a bleary, dull city.

But on the other side is your mother, your friends, your family. Your evil cat waits for you on the other side; the life your father dreamed of for you is on the other side. You had thought that so much in your life is wrong, and now that the portal is here, you realise that it’s not. It’s just life. Things go wrong and things go right. Like the path of a river, cutting through the vast, unknown wilderness. You had been thinking of it this whole time like you’d flip a switch and things would be easy. But that’s not what it’s going to be like on the other side of this portal, and it’s not really what you want things to be like. It’s an adventure of a different kind.

And it’s an adventure that you want to share... with Jin.

You remember what Jungkook had said- the best things in life are the scariest to start. And you’re scared now. No, you’re terrified. But if you’re this scared, then you know that this moment is going to be huge. Life-changing. You can’t keep the words in a moment longer. You don’t want to. You’ve spent too long running and fearing and hesitating and overthinking. But you’re confident, that the two of you will survive this even if he doesn’t feel the same way, and you’re ready to take that risk.

The river loves those who take the plunge.

“Jin,” you call, and you thought that if you ever did this that you’d be lost for words. But you’re not. Because you’re finally ready. Last night had solidified that for you. The words come easily. “You remember how you said that I look at you a certain way?”

You turn and face him, and he looks bewildered.

“Like you’re my hero.” You recall. And then you steel yourself and meet his gaze. It’s the same eyes you’ve known all your life. The same eyes you want to look into for the remainder of your life. “It’s because you are my hero. No, actually, it’s more than that.” You assert, and he just stares, completely dumbstruck. “I look at you like that because I love you. Because I admire you and think you’re strong and brave and kind, and even if you’re not the guy who has it all together, I still feel the same way. And I lied when I said I just wanted you to be my friend. I thought it was enough, but it’s not- I want to be your partner. I want to be your best friend. I want to be your girlfriend.” You say. And then you summon all the exciting fluttering feels in your chest and let it pour into your smile. “I love you, Kim Seokjin.”

Before you stands something you never thought you’d see. Kim Seokjin, the mastermind behind the Jant, is completely speechless. And then slowly, very slowly, he opens his mouth to give a response.

“Are you dead?” Jungkook demands as the upper half of his body appears once more through the portal. “It’s been like 30 seconds in that realm which is approximately ten years in this realm if my maths is correct!”

You spring back from Jin. You’re startled at how far you have to step back- had you really been standing that close?

“R-right.” You stutter. You feel like you’ve been caught cheating on a diet or something equally scandalous. “We’re coming.”

Jin just looks annoyed.

“No we’re not. Give us a minute.” He snaps at Jungkook, placing a palm against Jungkook’s head and shoving him back through the portal none-too-gently. He then turns urgently back to you. “What did you just say?” He demands. His intensity has you cowering slightly- your bravado from earlier leaves you.

“I said “we’re coming”?” You recall, attempting to divert the topic, but Jin steps closer.

“No you didn’t. You said you love me. And that you want to be my girlfriend.” He accuses.

“If you knew, why did you ask me?” You grumble. And then your expression softens. “But yes. I did say that. And it’s ok if you don’t feel the same. I know you could have any girl you want and I won’t be mad if you want someone else.” You reassure him quickly. He just stares, offering you no indication of whether he’d processed your words. It’s uncomfortable, but you suppose your words were going to be uncomfortable. You’re changing the very nature of your relationship by voicing them aloud. “But if you were willing... maybe you could give me a chance?” You trail away.

Still, Jin just continues to look at you blankly. He looks like he’s a robot that just encountered a programming error. Hesitantly, you reach out to tap his shoulder, just to make sure he hasn’t died or suddenly been transformed into stone.

A hand shoots up. It grabs your wrist, halting its movements. Jin’s eyes bug out of his head.

“YOU’RE TELLING ME NOW?” He all but screeches. You flinch- you hadn’t anticipated a jant in response to your confession. “YOU HAD THE WHOLE TRIP TO SAY YOUR FEELINGS AND YOU SAY IT NOW? YOU COULDN’T HAVE WAITED ONE DAY?”

His nostrils flare as he releases your wrist so that he can point accusingly at you.

“You had all your chances! You could have said it on the way to the forest spirit! Or when the Saishtas were chasing us! Or when we landed in the ravine! You’ve had literally the whole trip and you wait until right before I’m going to confess?” He spits out in that rapid-fire way that you’ve never seen another person be able to replicate.

And then you process his words.

“Wait-“ you say, hoping to abort the jant so that you have enough time to comprehend what he’s saying.

It’s no use.

“Seriously! I had a whole plan, (Y/N)! We were going to go to dinner and I was going to buy you flowers and I was going to ease you into it! But no! You just had to beat me to it, and for what? For what? So that you can make a half-assed confession right before we step into an alley next to a brothel?” He laments.

“It’s not half-assed-“ you protest, because you’d poured your heart out to Jin.

He steps in menacingly.

“Take it back.” He demands. Your eyes widen.

“What?” You cry, defensively. To your credit, you only cower a little which is an impressive feat for someone on the receiving end of a jant.

“Your confession! Take it back!” He orders.

“No!” You argue back. “I’m not going to do that.”

“You are!” Jin counters. “You’re going to take it back and we’re going to do it properly, over dinner, and you’re going to have washed hair and I’m going to-“

You don’t let him finish whatever stupid thoughts were filtering through his brain. If he wants a proper, romantic confession, then he’s going to get one! You hear a sharp intake of breath from him as your lips press to his. They’re slightly chapped after such a long period of rough travel, but the sensation is still pleasant. Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel like you’re about to burst.

It takes Jin a moment to respond. But when he does, it’s with an intensity that is almost frightening. You’re startled by the way he pulls you close. It’s like the electricity from last night, but multiplied a hundred-fold. If you thought your heart was ready to burst before, it is nothing compared to the way molten lava fills your chest when his hands come up to gently cradle your face and deepen the kiss.

When you finally recall that oxygen is something you need, Jin pulls away and searches your gaze. His hands slide down to your waist, resting delicately along the flare of your hips. His face is bright red but his eyes are determined.

Something about the way he is looking at you has you feeling shy.

“That was weird, huh?” You stammer, trying to cover the way you feel so completely overwhelmed. “Sorry.” Your heart is dancing in your chest. It’s all too much for one person to feel and you’re just not really sure what to do with the sensation. Did he feel it too? This weird tension, like you’re a balloon about to pop?

Jin doesn’t break eye contact and his tongue darts out to moisten his lips.

“Hard to say.” He finally says, breaking his long spell of silence. He then grabs at either side of your face, puckering his lips obnoxiously. “I think we need to try again to be sure.”

You barely have time to protest before he’s attempting to pull you in for a second kiss, although you slap a hand over his mouth to halt his advance.

“Wait!” You accuse. “You can’t just kiss me and not respond to what I said!”

“I already told you.” He snaps. “Your confession doesn’t count until we do it properly. Now if you excuse me-“ He grabs you by the elbows and tugs you back towards him, attempting to kiss you once more, but you stop him with a hand pressed to his chest. His expression turns pleading. “Just one more time.” He requests.

You swallow, and gaze into his eyes. It’s not an unfamiliar look, you realise. He’s looked at you like this before, but you now realise what the emotion was behind that look.

“I love you.” You tell him. “I told you like this because yes. I couldn’t wait one more day. I don’t want to wait another day without you knowing. I love you.” You say one more time, just for good measure.

His expression crumbles and he sighs in resignation, before pulling you tightly against him. His embrace is warm, and secure. It’s no different from all the other times he’s hugged you in your life, and yet nothing is the same.

“Fine.” He says, into the crook of your neck. “But I’m not saying it back until we have a proper date.”

He pulls out of the hug and the love in his gaze is overwhelming. It’s not a confession, per se, but his intent is as clear as day.

He loves you. You know he does.

“Deal.” You say back, and his response is his eyes crinkling up as he offers you that special smile, the one that he only shows when he’s really, truly happy. “But you’re paying.”

“How about we save any important conversations for the side of the portal where we’re not in constant mortal danger?” Jungkook demands, his head once more poking through the portal. There’s an awkward silence as he glances between the two of you, and then he groans. “Seriously? You had the entire journey to sort this out and you waited until now? You couldn’t even just leave it until after dinner?”

“Sorry!” You apologise quickly, going to follow Jungkook’s lead through the portal. But a hand wrapped around your wrist stops you- you hadn’t even noticed Jin had grabbed you.

You turn to gaze questioningly at him, and he shrugs, shifting his hands until he can interlace his fingers with yours.

“Wait. Let’s go together.” He requests, then pauses. “Can we?”

Something about this moment feels monumental. Huge. You’ve braved enemy encampments, crossed mountains. You’ve gone free-falling into giant ravines and overcome furious forest spirits.

And yet this moment feels like the start to your biggest adventure yet. From this point on, real life starts. You smile at Jin and he returns it.

“Yeah.” You say. “Let’s go together.”

Jin’s reply is covered by Jungkook’s annoyed call through the portal:

“What did I just say? Hurry up!”

~Fin~

#castlebangtan #thebtswritersclub #kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #writing

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egelantier · 3 years

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disco elysium

i fall into a proper gaming binge every half a year or so, and then forget that computers games exist altogether. my last bout of addiction was hades, a gorgeous roguelite about trying to get out of the underworld and dealing with family, bigger on the inside than it seemed outside. now i've spent a week headfirst into the beautiful madness of disco elysium, and i'm nowhere close to done. middle of the second playthrough, at least a couple more ahead, maybe three, maybe five - this kind of not closer to be done. finally, almost a decade later, there's a spiritual successor to planescape: torment, perfect, unique and compelling like nothing else. i'm head over heels in love.

(and a note: it's very much a game that can and should be played by non-gamers. it's a true click-and-pointer; the entirety of its action happens through dialogue. give it a try.)

in disco elysium, your character wakes up in an absolutely trashed hotel room, coming off a bender of epic proportions, fucked up beyond recognition, and fully amnesiac. it turns out you're visiting a (very much not) sunny town of revachol, a slowly decaying remnant of revolution and consequent war, and, well. you're a cop, and you're here to investigate a murder. namely, a murder of somebody whose dead body is still hanged in the backyard…

this is a horrendous mess, and you are a horrendous mess - bloated, amnesiac, confused, weird, pathetic, with a host of warring impulses and demands fighting for space in your head - but thankfully there's a pillar of stability and light in your dark world, waiting just downstairs: lieutenant kim katsuragi, your assigned partner from another station, a man with godlike sense of dignity and practically endless amount of quiet patience for your bullshit. together with him, you can investigate a crime, try to stop a small civil war, solve a couple of questions of the universe, and maybe, if you play your cards just once, dance a truly epic dance together in a shot-up church. there are also cryptids, karaoke, board games, collecting bottles for money, a mystery of a crashed police car, discovering your own feelings about the homo-sexual underground, and many, many other things.

(the gameplay: you have four sets of stats (intellect, sensitivity, physicality, interacting with objects) and, depending on how you distribute them, you play a wildly different character every time. there's no way to fail: your detective can be dumb as a bag of rocks but able to get by on intuition and muscle memory, or smart and horrible with people, or empathetic and weak, or - the combinations are endless. the game is conducted via a combination of red stat checks that you can do only once, and white checks that you can try, fail, up your stats and retry again. aside from a handful of cases, a lot of time it's easier - and funnier - to accept failures rather than try for a perfect go every time. you are a hot mess, after all. there are ten game days, a variety of sidequests and tasks, and almost endless variability in how you approach them. everything is connected, except for that one door.)

(there's also a political system, where you eventually pick up your political affiliation: a communist, a libertarian, a fascist, and a wishy-washy uncommitted liberal. the game has a lot of things to tell you about all your choices, most of them funny, some of them horrendous. there's no innocence here, and no way to weasel out of the consequences of your worldview; and you could also see that it was done by eastern europe people.)

and the thing is. the thing is, it's very much the kind of a game where you perform a field autopsy on a three days old corpse while a couple of preteen kids are watching avidly and offering their color commentary, and at some point you have to rummage in the corpse's mouth and feel its brain stem. a lot of very, very bad things happen or happened - to you, to the people around you, to the town around you, to the world around you. where in fallout you rolled into town with your stats jacked high and your blaster in hand, and solved ancient disputes and established peace, here the weight of the history is very, very heavy, and you're very, very small. you can't solve the decades of violence and war and trauma and colonization and poverty with the power of your save-scumming and pithy one liners, alas; but you can solve a murder. you can help a sweet and worried old woman. you can put your cheek to a kid's fuzzy plush toy, when offered. you can tell a person, gently, that their loved one is dead, and lie about how drunk they were when they did that. you can replace a taxidermied bird you broke. you can sit on the swing with your partner, waiting for the low tide, and whistle together - two birds on the wire…

it's the gentlest, kindest, sweetest, most hopeful game i've seen in the last decade. it's a goddamn manifesto to human spirit, and to how only - well, love - holds the world, always falling apart, together. a huge part of it is your relationship with kim, because believe me, whoever you are, most of your playthrough would be dedicated to chasing kim's approval and to winning his trust. but it also sneaks into all the cases, all the dialogues, all the little throwaway details. everybody is human; everybody is awful; everybody is holy, even you. oh, even you.

(there are storylines you can or can not discover. about why harry is such a mess - and it's awful and i loved how it was done, with empathy and grace and no judgement; about the state of the world, a bit of eldritch horror so throwaway and beautiful i would read entire volumes just about that; about the city of locusts; about a small girls' memory of playing in the reeds; about the scar of the revolution. suliram, ram, ram…)

(it's also brilliantly, awfully, absurdly, hysterically funny. Art Cop run alone makes me just about die. every failure is funnier than the other. you can be as weird as you want to - in fact, the game encourages you to be as weird as you want to be - and the world around will react accordingly, outperforming you in sheer absurdity. there's a war-and-peace sized amount of dialogue and description in the game, and it's written by some damn genius of pratchettian caliber.)

and, and and. honestly, the best way to get sucked into this game is not reviews, it's random quotes and screenshots, out -of-context spoilers - it's more or less impossible to resist. but please, oh please, give it a try.

>Someone's been walking around in your dreams lately, looking for something. Tidying up, rearranging. Storing away all the unrealized dreams, putting old pains in boxes. The worst nightmares have settled down for a while. A spot of light on the bedroom door after the dark. The fluttering of eyelids in the spring sun. A thought that arises, only to disappear again. And yet there's a pattern emerging…

>What if you didn’t lose your memory? What if something in Martinaise came and stored it all away. For you to slowly open one box at a time. So you can choose which parts to keep. Keep almost none of it. Only the flowers on the windowsill. Only the distant sound of a radio. Lose all the actors, the dark shadows, leave only the still lifes, the blissful distant wash of waves. If everybody knew -- you never did. She’ll be coming soon. That is all.

#disco elysium #recs

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ot7always · 4 years

Text

Forget-me-not

Word Count: 7.4k

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Village!AU. Angst. Seriously, it hurts.

Warnings: Mentions of war. Death, grief.

Rating: PG-15

Summary: As much as this had always been a possibility, you never thought that one day your best friend would actually be stolen from you.

A/N: This fic is part of my 1k Milestone Requests that was picked randomly out of the pool of requests I got!! Thank you to the lovely @jinpanman for sending such an interesting request in!! When I started writing this I had just come off of writing so much fluff, so I thought: I guess it’s time to write ANGST and this physically hurt me fhkfldhgf

“Y/N!” a voice called out loudly from downstairs, startling you enough to drop your sewing needle into the mess of fabric on your lap. Your sister had once again managed to tear one of her dresses running around doing whatever it was she did with the neighbour’s youngest son. Not that you could have boasted any more appropriate behaviour when you were her age.

“Just a moment, mother!” you responded, eyeing the damage. Truly, it wasn’t as bad as she made it sound when she came to you in a panic, dirt on her hands and tears on her cheeks. Surely it couldn’t take you more than a few minutes to fix.

“Come now, love! There’s a messenger from the capital outside!”

That had your brows furrowing instantly. A messenger? Here? Surely your relatively small, riverside village was of nearly no importance to the capital aside from paying the annual taxes.

“Coming!” you shouted, rising quickly and tossing the garment onto the chair behind you. The sewing could certainly wait, whereas the capital did not wait for anyone. It was possible the messenger had already started his spiel, and you were much too nosy a person to sit at home while something interesting was happening.

You slipped into your shoes quickly before rushing downstairs and out the door, hoping you still appeared as put together as you had that morning. Perhaps you should have thanked your mother before running full-speed toward the village’s centre, but it was much too late for that now.

When you arrived, a well-dressed man was already standing in the centre of a crowd, luckily only seeming to have just begun speaking.

“-sends his regards from the capital, but also his deepest apologies.”

Before you could ponder his words much, a sudden towering presence beside you stole your concentration for a moment.

Dark brown hair unruly, coat hastily done up, boots unlaced – how Kim Namjoon managed to make looking like a total mess a fashionable statement, you could never understand. But according to the whispers you heard as you went about your day, his unkempt, boyish manliness had stolen many ladies’ hearts in your little village. You would almost be annoyed, if not for the fact that he was so oblivious.

He shot a quick, dimpled smile your way, returned by one of your own before you both concentrated on the man’s speech once again.

“-army had taken a massive hit after the last war. As you know, that was only one year ago, and we have yet to recover properly after the close victory. And it appears that Reina is looking to take advantage of this.”

Reina. A country nearly 2 weeks away by horse, one who recently allied with Xenia through marriage, who your Kingdom’s army had barely defeated last year.

Unease settled over the crowd immediately. You grabbed for Namjoon’s arm instinctively, his hand raising to cover your own only a second later. This couldn’t possibly be what you thought it was, right?

“War appears to be imminent, and it can only be so much longer before tensions snap. We cannot let the Kingdom fall without a fight, and we are calling on all of our allies for assistance. But it is not enough.”

You sucked in a breath.

“The capital has decreed for all able-bodied man over 20 years of age to report for training and assignment. Women may volunteer to join the forces.”

Whispers and hushed cries of disbelief rang out through the crowd, but were quickly quieted by the continued announcements.

“You are expected to be in the capital within one weeks’ time. You may report to me for additional details. That is all.”

You turned to Namjoon with a helpless expression colouring your face, but the one on his was already one of resignation. Every man knew this could always be a possibility – hell, the same thing had happened only years ago for similar reasons, though that that time, your best friend had been too young to be conscripted.

But not this time.

“Namjoon-”

“It’ll be fine,” he cut in quickly, trying to quell the steadily rising despair taking over your features.

It seemed that the other men in the crowd felt the same sort of sad acceptance, hushing their daughters, wives, and friends in the same way.

As much as you might as joked to anyone who asked that Namjoon was nothing more than a nuisance, you hardly went a day without seeing him. His family home was only down the street – a fact you’d learned only days after you grew old enough to play with the other children on your own.

His tiny body had come barreling into your smaller one in a rush, sending your 6-year-old figure straight into a nearby bush. And as any young girl would do after having torn the new dress gifted to you only weeks earlier, to no fault of her own, you recalled throwing quite the tantrum.

You only saw more and more of him after he brought you to his home in a hurry, pushing you towards his mother in a wordless plea to fix whatever problem he caused. And so she mended your dress, urged you to return for tea the next day, and thus began your odd relationship with the clumsy boy.

You were not quite fast friends, your friendship with his mother developing much more quickly than any relationship with him. The younger you was quite adept at holding a grudge, and you didn’t dare forget that this was the boy that almost ruined your birthday present.

But, as children did, you got over it before long, especially after learning that you would be attending the same classes that same year. While a year older than you, an unfortunate illness had befallen him two years prior, holding him back several months.

After weeks of taking the exact same walk to and from school, you’d warmed up to the boy quite a bit. He liked to show you his strange collection of rocks, and in exchange you showed him your collection of fabrics you’d collected from old clothing and blankets over the years. The fact that you’d acted interested in each other's odd habits must have been a testament to your strengthening bond.

Spending your days with him became second nature over time, right up until he’d grown at least a head taller than you and become more man than boy.

You’d seen each other through almost all of life’s troubles; studying together in a harried panic, hurriedly throwing together gifts for birthdays you’d forgotten, and eventually cheering each other on in finding an occupation for yourself.

It must have been a surprise to the other villagefolk that it was you who had become the teacher, and not Namjoon, because it was him dazzling your teachers with grand speeches and uncanny wisdom for his age. Though they could not be surprised long, for it was Namjoon who spent many months of the year in neighbouring villages, and sometimes even the capital, studying to be a doctor.

There were few people in your village with the capabilities to study such a profession, but Namjoon excelled. He preferred not to boast of his abilities, but you heard frequently from your mother that many travellers sung his praises. Your best friend was a rare gem whose future appeared to span far beyond the tiny walls of your village.

Which was why you could not simply accept that he would go off to war, possibly never to be seen again.

“How can you be okay with this? How are you not panicking? Namjoon, I-”

You were unaware of your rising volume until steady hands settled on your shoulders, moving to shield you from the curious eyes now pointed in your direction. How could he possibly take care for your reputation when the country was asking him to give up his life?

“We always knew this might happen some day, Y/N. You know it as well as I do.” His words were firm, but his eyes spoke different words, pained words. Words that he could not say here, for to publicly voice his displeasure would not be taken well. Especially not when so many of the men around you had already gone to war and returned.

He was right that you knew this could happen – you would be a fool not to realize such a thing. Even your father had been lost to war when you were only a child, as is the reality for many children in your village. But did that make this any easier to bear? No person could say that preparing for a possible goodbye made the event any less gut wrenching.

“I’m worried for you,” you eventually whispered, head tipping back to stare into those eyes that had become a constant in your daily life, eyes that, one week from now, you might never see again. That thought sent a new wave of dread through your very being, a hole opening in your chest at the thought of Namjoon riding off, never to be seen again.

“Y/N,” he said, squeezing your shoulders in an attempt to pull you out of your head and back into this moment with him. “I need to speak with the messenger. Will you wait for me by the pond?”

You could only nod mutely, afraid that if you were to open your mouth, the only thing that would come out would be more words of displeasure.

“I’ll come as soon as I can okay?” he asked gently, voice filled with compassion. A part of you was ashamed that he was here comforting you when it was his life on the line.

When you didn’t make to move on your own, the hands still on your shoulders nudged you to turn around, further words of assurance falling from his lips.

It was as though you had been possessed. Your mind felt suddenly blank, your chest empty, your movements not your own. You hadn’t even realized you were approaching the pond near your home until the water was glistening right in front of you.

You stood as close to the water as one would dare, what with the notoriously slippery rocks at your feet. You stared at your reflection in the crystal-clear shallows before you, as though she could tell you how to deal with this situation. And as you watched your skirts sway gently in the spring breeze, you wondered if your eyes appeared as empty as your soul felt in this moment.

Being here only spurred up more shared memories. Summers spent playing in the water, digging up insects, even chasing each other over the wet rocks, much to the disdain of your mother.

Not only that – this place felt safe. It was where you came when you were upset, where you always were when Namjoon came looking for you to make things better. It was where you found him when he was contemplating whether he was fit to be a doctor, where you assured him that he was the most intelligent person you knew of.

Without even realizing it, you had begun digging up every good memory you had with Namjoon, as though to mourn them before you’ve even lost him.

It seemed that a part of you had already accepted the possibility of losing him forever, already accepted that as many memories as you had together, you might never have the chance to make any more.

But rather than sadness, sorrow – all you felt was a gaping emptiness within you as you stared, unblinking, unseeing, into the water before you.

Was something wrong with you, not to feel? Someone akin to family was about to be ripped away from you, yet your eyes were dry. Shouldn’t you be screaming, sobbing? Didn’t he deserve at least that?

“Y/N.”

You didn’t have the slightest idea how much time had passed before Namjoon was calling your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned slowly before meeting his eyes, the distance between you unusually large. He appeared as though he didn’t know what to do with himself, as though you hadn’t spent over 15 years at each other’s side. He looked to be brimming with words he wanted to say to you, but his eyes remained fixed on you, his mouth shut.

“So?” you managed to force out, voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

He only gave you a pained smile in response, closing the space between you and eventually sitting next to the place you stood. When he patted the ground at your feet, you joined him.

Minutes went by with both of you silent, gazes staring blankly across the water, as though failing to address the subject at hand would render it nonexistent.

However, patience was never your strong suit, and you could not hold your tongue any longer, even if you would only receive bad news in return. Though, it appeared Namjoon had the same idea.

“What-”

“I-”

As quickly as you had both opened your mouths, you had stopped talking. A slight smile finally cracked your stony expression as you met Namjoon’s eye, his expression sheepish, as though he could have known he was going to cut you off.

“You first,” you chuckled, tension seemingly broken as you watched Namjoon collect his thoughts.

“I spoke to the messenger...” he started, taking another breath as you acknowledged him with a low hum. “He told me I would be able to work with the doctors there.”

You perked up immediately at his words, hope blooming in your chest. “So you won’t have to fight?”

But the troubled expression on his face told you it wasn’t that simple.

“Not on the front-lines, but I’ll have to be close by. Wherever they decide to send me.”

“You’ll be in the camps.”

“Right.”

That coiling feeling in your gut returned. “And the camps get raided often.”

“Right,” he murmured. “I could...”

“You could die.” You cut him off with a whisper, turning your head away to hide your furrowed brows, nails digging into your forearm as though the physical pain could ease the burden in your heart. “How are you not more upset?”

“Part of me always expected for this day to come,” he sighed, hand drawing senseless patterns into the rocks at his feet. “As a man in a country at war, it’s like I was born just to die.”

“Don’t say that. Why do you accept your death so easily?” you forced out through gritted teeth, burying the sorrow in your chest that was creeping up your throat, threatening to burst at the seams. Did he value himself so lowly that it was so easy to throw his life away for his country?

“There’s nothing I can do about this, you know that,” he said lowly.

“I know,” you replied simply. You did. But that didn’t mean you could accept it so easily. You should have been more like him, should have expected that this might eventually happen to the two of you, but too much of you didn’t want to think about a reality without your best friend in it. Perhaps it was naïve and foolish of you, but you were happier thinking that the time you had with Namjoon was not defined by an hourglass that tipped at the notion of war.

The silence that followed was heavy, the emotions that laid between you more than words could express.

To think that his hulking presence in this place you grew up together – when he visited you in the classroom with treats for the children, when he ran through the village streets with your sister on his back – to think that one week from now, those might just be memories, never to be seen before you again. Was it selfish to mourn how lonely you would be without him?

You thought you could hold yourself together until you returned home, but it was the arm circling around your shoulders and the words that came next from his lips that broke you.

“Will you remember me well?”

It was as though the single thread holding you together snapped, sorrow rearing its ugly head as tears spilled from your eyes. You kept your face from him, but no matter how quietly you cried, the heaving of your shoulders, gave you away.

Namjoon didn’t comment, only pulling you closer so that your head could rest on his shoulder.

“You’re so stupid,” you sobbed, voice strained as you angrily wiped at the tears on your face. “I hate you.”

You swore you heard Namjoon snort at that. After all, he heard that phrase from you at least 5 times per week.

“I know, I know.”

You finally turned towards him, but before he could get a good look at you, you buried your face in his chest and wrapped your arms around him. When you realized that this could be one of the last times you held him close like this, another strangled cry was wrenched from your throat.

He didn’t dare comment on how tightly you were holding him, nor how wet the front of his shirt was becoming.

Another comment on how well he was keeping himself together was on the tip of your tongue before you felt the shuddering of his body beneath you.

Namjoon was a silent crier if you’d ever seen one, and if not for the breath catching in his throat, it would have been hard for anyone to tell without seeing him.

You didn’t know how long you sat there like that, half-sprawled across his body, tears falling until there was nothing more for your body to give. Namjoon’s hands trembled in their place on your back, and you wished more than anything that you could make this easier on him somehow. It was his life on the line, after all, and not yours.

“Y/N,” he whispered, the sound wrought with emotion.

You pulled from him enough to meet his eyes, the pain you found there a reflection of your own. His hand rose to wipe at the wetness on your cheeks before moving to lace his fingers with your own.

“Take care of my mother for me. Please.”

You nodded gravely, reaching for his other hand as well. “Of course,” you replied, breaking eye contact lest you fall apart all over again. “Only until you get back.”

“Only until I get back.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noted the setting sun above the tall trees surrounding you, though you still had no grasp on how long you had been here together. Everything felt to be a blur of fear and despair.

“When do you leave?” you asked.

“In five days.”

You nodded. Five days left with your best friend before you had to send him off to a war he might not return from. You were certain those days would be spent busy right from dawn until dusk, but you would steal whatever moments with him you could.

You eventually returned to your original position sitting beside him, facing the water as a slight breeze sent a shiver through you.

“We should head back soon,” he said, but he didn’t sound to want to leave very much. “It’s getting dark.”

“Stay with me a while longer,” you murmured, reaching for his hand.

So he did.

The days following passed in a whirlwind. Despite your dedication to spending as much time with Namjoon as possible before his departure, it proved difficult with the preparations he had to make. Writing letters to his colleagues, saying goodbye to old teachers, securing a horse, packing his belongings – there was unfortunately not much time left for the two of you to simply spend with each other, though you stole what moments you could.

It was almost surreal, what you felt in that time. You couldn’t help the tears that came that night after the pond when your mother held you. Since then, it had almost been an endless cycle of sorrow followed by emptiness, over and over and over.

But the morning before Namjoon would set out on his own, you were determined not to break down again. You were determined that you would send him off with a smile, no matter how difficult it would be to manifest one. He deserved to leave on a good note, not having to comfort you yet again right before he left. You should be the one making him feel better, not the other way around. You would support him as best you could, and momentarily put aside the worst-case scenarios that had been circling through your head ever since the words came from that messenger’s mouth.

“Were you waiting long?” came a voice from behind you.

Turning around, you smiled as you met Namjoon’s eyes, his body already clad in a riding outfit and sturdy boots. It looked good on him.

“Not at all.”

The two of you had decided to spend the last of his time in the village together at the pond. It felt fitting – it was a place ever-present in your childhood memories together, a place you felt a strong emotional attachment to. Not only that, it was peaceful here. Quiet. Perfect.

“Sit with me,” you said, settling yourself in the grass beside a basket you brought with you.

“Is that what I think it is?” he questioned, clearly trying to keep the childish excitement from his voice, though failing.

When you removed the cloth covering what laid within, you had to keep yourself from laughing at Namjoon’s sudden intake of breath.

“Apple pie, fresh from the oven about... an hour ago?” you hummed nonchalantly, not bothering to hide your grin at his excitement. “It’s not exactly breakfast, but I thought you would appreciate it. You can take what’s left with you.”

“You really know how to cheer up a guy, don’t you?” he breathed, sending a reverent ‘thank you’ as you handed it over to him.

As he distracted himself with the pie, you took the chance to study him.

You quickly dispelled the thought that you had to memorize his face now, burn the picture into your memory while you could.

What startled you was that he looked... happy. Well – as happy as he could be considering the situation, but truly, he looked content. As though accepting his fate was no difficult thing, as though he wasn’t leaving his family behind within hours.

Perhaps you should not have been so surprised, though, as Namjoon had always been someone who adapted well to change and thrived wherever he went. All you could do now was have faith that that would hold true now.

“Something on my face?” he teased, snapping you out of your thoughts before darting a slightly embarrassed glance his way.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How much I’m going to miss you.”

A flash of pain went through his gaze before he snapped his head down to hide it. A pang of guilt shot through you at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” you hastened. “I promised myself not to be negative today, I just...”

“Can’t stop thinking about it, right?” he mumbled.

“Yes,” you whispered, reaching for his hand as you pushed the leftovers of the pie out of your way. “But it’s okay. You’re so stubborn I know you’ll come back.”

Your words had their intended effect, those dimples you’d come to grow and love making their appearance again as he exhaled a laugh. The momentary joy you saw there, though, was quickly put away and replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone sounding unsure and entirely unlike him. A furrow worked its way between your brows immediately and you were about to comment on his apparent nervousness, but he spoke up before you could. “I need to tell you something.”

“Hm?” you responded, caught off guard. “Okay, sure. What is it?”

“I... This is – Well...” he stuttered, taking you off guard even more. Anything that rendered Namjoon an ineloquent speaker must have been weighing heavily on his mind.

“Namjoon?” you prodded, tone laced with concern. You had never been one to mince words with each other, and so his inability to come out with what he was thinking was unusual.

“I’m sorry for doing this to you right now,” he blurted out in what must have been half a breath. “But I don’t want to leave here with any regrets, you know? In case... well, you know...”

“You’re scaring me,” you said, your heartbeat increasing already just from watching him fumble around with his words.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he breathed. “But before I go, I just have to tell you that I...”

He took a long pause then, several moments passing as he gathered himself. Just as you were about to cut in again, he said the words all at once, almost too fast for you to process.

“I love you.”

You spent a moment staring at him blankly as you registered what he said.

But once you did, you were left no less confused than you were before.

“I love you too, Joon, you should know that-”

“No,” he interrupted loudly, wincing slightly in apology when you jumped in surprise. “That’s... that’s not what I meant.”

That’s not what he meant? What else could he have possibly-

Wait.

Namjoon spotted the exact moment you realized exactly what he meant by his words, confusion, realization, then confusion again flashing in your eyes.

It was silent for several moments as you simply stared at him, no part of you knowing what to do with this knowledge.

“What?” was what you settled on, and you inwardly cursed yourself for not having anything better to say.

He gave a bit of a self-deprecating laugh then, and something in your gut wrenched knowing you were the cause of that sound. He broke eye contact, bravery seemingly used up, instead staring blankly into the water.

“I know it’s unfair to tell you this now, and honestly,” he paused as his lips upturned in a mirthless grin. “I don’t really know why I did. It doesn’t change anything.”

You wanted so badly to be able to comfort him, but you couldn’t tell whether your touch would just make it worse.

“I-I don’t know what to say, I never-”

“I know you don’t feel the same way. I just had to get it off my chest since...”

He let his words trail off, both of you already knowing what he was referring to. There was no use saying the same thing again and again.

“I never thought about it,” you whispered, glancing over at Namjoon in a new light. In love with you? You couldn’t say there was never a moment where you thought you and him could be together like that – you'd spent much of your life together, after all. But it was never something you’d entertained seriously, never something you allowed to linger in your brain.

“I know,” he said, and you ignored the way his voice cracked at the end of the phrase. “I just didn’t think our story would end like this, you know?”

“Namjoon...”

“I thought I’d have time to muster up the courage, time to make you fall in love with me too,” he continued. “You always told me I was naïve.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have said something earlier, stopped hiding, stopped pretending...” He sighed. “There’s no use dwelling on it now. Find someone who makes you happy, okay?”

It was as though all of the words had been stolen from your body. You didn’t know what you could possibly say to him, how you could possibly ease his pain. And despite not having known, you couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you. You were the one causing him this pain, you were the one somehow too oblivious to see something in the man you claimed to know everything about. And at the same time, you wished he said something before, because now was too late – whether you could have been happy together didn’t matter now. Fate was cruel with her strings.

“Y/N.” His stern tone broke you free from your thoughts. “It doesn’t bother me now, okay? I just... couldn’t leave with secrets.”

“I understand,” you responded, though you could not stop thinking on the notion. What you might have been together had he not been called to war, had he had time to enact his grand plan to win your heart.

But none of that mattered now.

After several minutes of heavy silence, his voice startled you out of your melancholy.

“I need to say goodbye to my mother.” He stood, offering you a hand to join him.

“I’ll walk you,” you offered quietly, not letting go of his hand. He didn’t comment on it.

You felt almost dazed after his confession, the two of you arriving at Namjoon’s family home within what felt like seconds.

When you looked up at him he was staring at you quizzically, and you quickly removed your hand from his own.

“Will you meet me at the gates in a half hour?”

The gates. The place where you would say goodbye to your best friend, not knowing if or when you would hear from or see him again. You pushed down the dread once again, determined to show a brave face.

“Of course,” you replied weakly, sending him a smile that surely didn’t meet your eyes.

Before he could express his worry at your behaviour, you patted him on the back as you set out for the gates.

The entrance to your village was a beautiful place – surely the most beautiful in the entire area. One of the village teachers had a special gift for horticulture, tending to the hedges and flowers almost every day. You had tried your best to help him when you were young, though it was quickly proven that despite your love for flowers, you lacked the ability to care for them properly.

The primroses were in full bloom, the array of colours surrounding you from where you sat in the grass. The butterflies were rampant this time of year, enough that some of the grumpier citizens likened them to pests. But you had always admired their beauty, silken wings of white, yellow, and orange fluttering gently through the warm breeze.

Perhaps such painful goodbyes could be made slightly easier in scenery such as this.

The grass was soft where you sat waiting, nothing like the thick, pointed blades near the pond. You allowed your fingers to trail through the greenery on either side of you, closing your eyes and tipping your head back to greet the warmth of the sun, only having just taken its place in the morning sky.

You didn’t move even as you heard the clacking of hooves on cobblestone, as footsteps approached and arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind.

He was warm, and safe, and alive, and you would give anything and everything to keep him that way.

But sheer will and sacrifice could not win a war, no matter what the folk tales claimed.

You allowed yourself to relax into his hold, despite the awkward position of Namjoon hovering above you.

You didn’t remember doing it, but at some point, you must have pulled him down with you. Because the next thing you knew you were in his lap, face hidden away in his chest as you trembled, holding back tears.

The hands on your back and on your head almost hurt in the way they were crushing you to him, but you didn’t dare complain, not when you were doing the same to him. Not when this one moment needed to last you until you could see him again.

If you could see him again.

But now was not the time to explore that train of thought once again.

Pull yourself together and be strong. For him.

Forcing yourself to take several deep breaths, you eventually pulled away from him enough to look into his eyes for the first time since he walked up.

You didn’t know whether to be happy or sad that the deep brown of his eyes held only a resigned acceptance, lips upturned in a smile that looked more self-deprecating than anything.

Neither of you dared to break the silence, and it dawned on you then that to anyone else, you might have looked like lovers, wrapped together amongst the flowers, gazes locked.

Yes, fate was cruel with her strings.

The bell from the clocktower several blocks away was what broke you free of the moment, your heart dropping in your chest when you processed what you’d heard.

The seventh hour.

He had to leave now.

You stood up wordlessly, almost as though you were in a trance. You couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head up, staring intently at your feet.

“Y/N.” His voice came with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to keep you from hiding any longer. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“Okay,” you whispered, covering his hand with both of your own.

A moment passed before you led him to where his horse was waiting. You managed to crack a smile at the sight of the remnants of your pie bagged and tied messily to the saddle. With a knot like that, you were dubious that it would make it to the capital in one piece without being left behind.

You clung to his bicep the entire time you walked the horse past the gates, your fingers digging into the flesh as though you had the power to keep him there.

His hands moved to cup beneath your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his eyes one last time before he left.

You didn’t even blink as his gaze darted across every inch of your face, memorizing it as if he didn’t see you in his dreams every night already.

“I guess this is it,” he murmured, allowing his thumb to stroke mindlessly along the soft skin of your jaw.

It wasn’t often that he got to touch you like this, and he would make this one moment last a lifetime if you would let him.

He gave you a smile then that was small but as genuine as you’d ever seen it, and your face was lighting up in return before you even gave it any thought.

You only nodded, afraid in that moment of what would leave your lips if you dared to part them.

His hands left you slowly, leaving warmth in their wake. When he turned his back to you, about to climb atop his horse, you didn’t know what came over you then. The warmth, the pain, emotion you couldn’t put into words – something in you snapped.

You saw the breath leave him in a sigh, and right as his leg begun to raise from the ground-

“Wait!” you yelled, yanking his arm to turn him back around, a yelp leaving him as he almost lost his balance.

His eyes were wide with alarm, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask what you were doing before you threw yourself at him.

When your lips met, sparks didn’t fly, nor did time slow to a pause.

But something within you blossomed at the touch, a hand raising to rest against the nape of his neck even as he stood frozen with shock. His hands hovered in the air as his mind struggled to catch up, struggled to process the fact that you were kissing him.

Just as you were about to spring away from him, concerned by his utter lack of reaction, he groaned into your mouth, arms circling around your waist.

You’d clearly awoken something in him, his lips responding to your own with vengeance, pulling your body as close to his as possible. Your neck ached fiercely at the harsh angle, but that was the last thing on your mind.

You couldn’t pinpoint what this feeling was – you only knew that you didn’t want to let it go. This warmth, this safety, this moment with the sun warming your skin, his hands clutching you, his lips soft, patient against your own.

What started out hurried and desperate soon became slow and calm, but your heart was pounding in your chest regardless.

It was the horse’s whinny at your side that broke you from your daze, your lips separating as you looked at him wide-eyed.

“Y/N-”

“Come home safe,” you cut him off, finally disentangling yourself from him and stepping back.

He looked like he had so much he wanted to say to you, and you shared the sentiment.

But there was no time if he wanted to reach the capital before sundown.

He would just need to come back.

With a sombre nod and a quick touch of his fingers to his lips in disbelief, he turned to finally mount his horse.

You locked eyes once more, forcing your mouth up into a smile as you weakly waved farewell.

But your heart hurt, your eyes stinging.

All he could do was try his best to return it.

And with one last tilt of the head from both of you, he set off.

Come home safe.

Please.

It was a long and grueling six months.

You were beside yourself once Namjoon left that morning. It must have been days before you felt well enough to leave your bed, but time was a blur then. Your sister did her best to comfort you, cuddling her much smaller body into your side until you both fell asleep.

But you could not spend all of your days moping. Not when you had your own responsibilities in your home and with your students. Not when that would be the last thing Namjoon wanted, either.

Each time a letter arrived from Namjoon, your hope renewed. They came every few weeks, one for you and one for his mother.

You always ran excitedly to her house when a letter came for you, eager to share what words he was able to put down in a rush at the camp.

He was clearly a busy and well-needed man, stationed at one of the more populated camps on the edge of the battlefield, tending to the wounded at every hour of the day.

Despite his short letters and scribbled words, he always included petals or pressed flowers in his letters to you.

It made you giggle when you opened the first one to find a badly-crushed hyacinth stuffed into the sheets.

It was no secret that you went through a phase in your adolescence in which you loved to collect flowers in notebooks. You’d had many short-lived passions, but this one lasted for years. Books and books of dried, pressed flowers, enough that your poor sister sneezed whenever she entered your room.

It became routine to find flower after flower in his letters to you, and you had to admit that your heart fluttered each time, excited to see what he included for you that time.

The flowers on the other side of the country were much different from your own, and it was no small thrill to see what beauty was in store for you with each letter.

Stretching your arms far above your head, you sat up in bed, having been woken by the sunlight streaming in despite your closed curtains. Perhaps you would soon need to invest in buying some heavier, darker fabrics.

Hopping out of bed quickly and tossing on your skirts and apron, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading out to wash up and make breakfast.

You were often the first one up, your mother much preferring reading or knitting until late at night, lit only by lanternlight. Your sister, on the other hand, slept early and woke up late. The girl got an obscene amount of sleep, though you supposed her growing body must have needed it.

You didn’t mind the quiet, your hushed footsteps and soft humming only ever interrupted by birdsong and crickets chirping.

You were in a particularly good mood as of late, constantly receiving news of battles gone well and your country’s forcing advancing. The village elders had told you that with the way things were going, the men should be back in about a month or two, perhaps even sooner should your opponents surrender.

The thought of seeing Namjoon again in only a month had a soft smile spreading across your face before you had realized it.

You didn’t know what you were feeling for Namjoon, didn’t know if it was love, but you knew that with every letter, he wrapped himself around your heart even more.

Reaching the kitchen, you reached for a hair bandana before turning in search of flour. Perhaps you could make pastries before your family woke up?

But as you turned, a flash of white in your peripheral caught your eye. Spotting an envelope on the near the front door, the bandana fell forgotten to the floor, feet racing across the room.

Scooping the envelope from the floor, you hurried over to the table, setting yourself down into a wooden chair in preparation for another of Namjoon’s letters.

But when you examined the letter closer, you frowned.

It was addressed to you, but the handwriting wasn’t one that you recognized. Who else ever sent you letters? Who could you possibly not recognize despite them knowing where you lived?

Doubt and dread rose in your gut, but when you turned the envelope around, you could have sworn your heart stopped.

A military seal.

Bright red, and clear as day.

With trembling hands, you reached for a nearby knife to cut the envelope open.

Pulling the paper from inside, you had to muffle a cry when you unfolded the letter, a flower falling into your waiting hand, Namjoon’s writing covering the page.

Unlike his normal, scribbled, rushed handwriting, this was meticulous. Neat.

It made you feel sick.

Already feeling like you were sinking, you begun to read.

My dearest Y/N,

I pray to anyone who may be listening that your eyes never see the words written on this page, that I return to you a stronger man, prepared to do anything to have you kiss me again.

In the event that you are reading this, I’m sorry.

I asked my commander to send you a letter in the event that I do not make it out of this war alive.

It pains me to write this, and I fear staining the paper with my tears as I do. There is nothing I want less than to leave you alone, than to leave you behind as I leave this plane.

There was something you said to me once when we were perhaps 11 or 12, I’m not sure if you remember it. It was after we got into one of our silly, petty fights, and I ignored you for a several days.

When we met again, I remember that you were crying. Your eyes were wet and red, and my heart hurt then. You told me, “Never leave me alone again.” I told you I wouldn’t, and I never did something like that again. From then on, I promised myself that I would never leave you. I would stay by your side in whatever capacity you let me.

I'm sorry. I’m sorry I broke my promise, and I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to come back to you.

I love you more than words can say, and I’m sorry.

I never want to cause you pain, and it kills me knowing that if you ever have to read this, I won’t be there to ease the hurt.

I want you so badly to be happy no matter what, and I want nothing more than for you to look back on our moments together with joy. Please don’t let my death take that beautiful smile from your face forever.

I’m sorry.

With all my love,

Your Namjoon

You didn’t know when you had started crying, but fat teardrops covered your hands, splashing against the ink on the page.

Why?

Why did your story have to end here?

You tried to quiet your sobs, but it was no use. You were lost to sorrow, overcome with pain, your vision blurry with tears.

As you balled up your fists in rage and agony, you felt something poke into your palm.

The flower.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you looked down into the palm of your hand, and another gut-wrenching cry was pulled from your throat.

Because there laid a browning, wilted, crushed, forget-me-not.

Tagging: @jinpanman @ezralia-writes @wwilloww

#houseofddaeng #btsgoldnet #btsguild #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #hyunglinenetwork #magicshopnet #mikrogalaxynet #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts angst #namjoon angst #bts fic #bts fanfic

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jusvibbbin · 3 years

Text

Darling Duet

Harry Kim x Reader

//My first anonymous request! Enjoy!

Watching Harry play was amazing. The way he sat straight up in his chair. The laser focus he used to read the music on the stand. How his lips clasped the mouthpiece, firm yet soft. You wondered just how soft his lips were. You had admired him from a far for several months now, talking to him on occasion, but never more than a few minutes. To say you were smitten would be an understatement.

(Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Pay attention to the concert!

As Harry finished his concerto, you and the rest of the audience stood and clapped for him. Tom began to hoot and holler much to B’Elanna’s embarrassment as everyone chuckled. Harry took a bow and the after-concert party moved into the mess hall.

The night was marked with toasts and small talk, and though you enjoyed having a night to relax, you were acutely aware of the fluttering in your stomach every time you stole a glance at the ship’s clarinetist. Not to mention the intense heat that lit your face on fire when you caught him looking back at you. After this happened once or twice, the dark haired ensign made his way over to you, accepting praise from everyone as he went.

“Hey, music man! Finally got some time away from your adoring fans?” As soon as you said it, you cringed a bit.

I’ve got to sound ridiculous. Why can’t I just relax?

“Time away? Are you not one of my adoring fans?” Harry asked innocently enough, but the comment caught the attention of Tom, who slowly edged closer to eavesdrop.

You blushed slightly, and feeling a little brave you said, “Of course I am. You could say I’m your biggest fan.”

You’re so dorky but maybe it’s working.

Harry laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Glad to know I have such a sweetheart for a fan.”

You froze. You had no idea what to say. Every time you started to get comfortable talking to Harry, you clammed up. You must’ve turned beet red because Tom swooped in to congratulate Harry and told him the captain wanted to talk to him. Harry waved a small goodbye and you returned his weakly before starting to leave the mess hall with Tom on your heels.

“(Y/N), wait up!” Tom was jogging now to catch up to you as you speed walked to your quarters. As you reached the door, Tom grabbed your arm.

“Hey! What happened to you?”

You pulled your arm away from him gently and sighed.

“Damn… You got it bad huh?” Tom started to chuckle to himself

“Come on, it’s not funny! I don’t know how to act around Harry. He smiles at me and I feel like I’m gonna pass out! How do I get him to realize how I feel if I can’t say anything?” You covered your mouth after you finished your rant and waited for what Tom had to say. He was Harry’s best friend after all.

“I saw the way you looked at him while he played. You were enthralled!” Then Tom’s eyes lit up and he grinned at you.

Uh oh…

“Can you play an instrument?”

You shook your head.

Tom put his hand thoughtfully on his chin and hummed quietly.

“How would you feel about learning one?” he asked excitedly. And you couldn’t help but feel as excited as he looked. Tom suggesting you express yourself through music? It was genius, and very personal to Harry.

But what the hell am I gonna play?

Tom seemed to read your mind as he said, “I’ve heard the flute sounds very good with the clarinet. And I’d be willing to donate my replicator rations to such a noble cause.”

You smiled and shook Tom’s hand. You were going to be a flutist.

Learning the flute proved to be much more difficult than you and Tom first thought. Even with the professional holo-programs and access to extensive databases, you were still having trouble. You decided to turn to the only person that could help you.

“Ah, Ensign (Y/N)! What can I do for you?” the Doctor asked as you walked into sickbay.

“Hi Doc. I was hoping I could call on your expertise as a musician and see if you could help me with some music. I can hold a note, sort of, and my fingering has been getting a lot better but I just can’t seem to get it down.”

As you spoke, the Doctor wasted no time pulling another chair into his office and sitting down across from it.

“I would be delighted to assist you! Finally someone around here appreciates my talents.”

For the next two weeks, you and the Doctor worked tirelessly to get your playing greatly improved. But at the start of your third week, the Doctor surprised you. You walked into sickbay to find none other than Ensign Harry Kim with his ever shiny clarinet.

“So this is your student.” Harry smiled at you and you tried to hide your panic with a little laugh.

“(Y/N), while I am very well equipped to assist you in your music theory, I think that Harry might be a better teacher when it comes to playing. It is true, I am a great musician, but I prefer to sing and I’m positive that your flute would be much improved with his experience playing a more... tangible instrument.”

Oh jeez. There goes my secret plan.

“Shall we get started?” Harry asked as he gestured to the door. You nodded and threw the Doctor a look you knew he wouldn’t understand.

Harry led you down the corridor as you tried to figure out where you were going. He slowed down to walk next to you and looked at your case.

“Flute, huh? I didn’t know you were interested in music.”

“The flute is new but I’ve always wanted to learn something.” You could feel yourself starting to turn a bit flushed.

“That’s great! I hope you don’t mind switching teachers. To be completely honest, I’ve never really taught anyone before.”

“I’m sure you’ll be amazing, Harry.” You said as you smiled at him.

“Thanks (Y/N),” he said gratefully. “Here we are.”

He stopped in front of quarters you had never been to before.

Are we going into his quarters!? I don’t know if I can do this.

As you internally panicked, Harry started to set up chairs and music stands before looking back at you standing in the doorway.

“Uh, (Y/N)? Are you going to come in?”

You pushed down your nerves and stepped inside, the door whooshing shut behind you as you sat down in one of the chairs.

“Alright, now lets see your playing position.”

“(Y/N) that was really good! I’m impressed with how far you come in such a short time!” Harry flashed you an elated smile as you blushed looking down at your flute. Harry was right, you were doing excellent. Once he helped you with your embouchure and taught you how to hold the flute in a relaxed, but proper way, you were playing with ease.

The two of you had also gotten extremely close over the couple of months you had been playing, often getting dinner in the mess hall afterward and talking about what your lives back on Earth had been like. Harry told you about his family and how much he missed them and you told him about missing your own family and the garden you had started working on before getting assigned to Voyager. Other people had noticed how much time you were spending together and you both were often embarrassed when someone asked how long you’d been dating.

As time went on, pushing down your feelings was getting more and more difficult. You were starting to worry if you’d be able to ever tell Harry how you felt. You talked to Tom and he told you to make your move tonight.

“Tonight?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t know if I’m ready!”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna be ready! You just gotta have that quick burst of bravery and be honest!”

You thought about what Tom had said as you walked back to your quarters after lunch. Maybe Tom had a point and you should just do it. But you couldn’t stop wondering if you should wait a little longer.

No… Let’s go for it!

Making up your mind (after going back and forth a bit more), you told Harry to meet you in your quarters once his shift was over. He happily agreed and you went to prepare with the couple hours you had.

The door chimed, signaling your time was up. You sat down in front of your music stand and smoothed out your clothes. Once you were presentable you told the door to let Harry in.

The moment he entered, you began to play your flute. He stood there, caught off guard for a moment, then he slowly sat down on your couch and closed his eyes to listen to you play. After picking up some extra theory lessons with the Doctor, you decided to write Harry a song expressing how deeply you felt about him. As you spent more time together your song had only got more emotional and beautiful. You let the Doctor look at it but refused to play it for anyone but Harry. It was far too special and personal to show to someone else.

You had practiced for about a month now and it sounded good. Sure you stumbled a bit at certain parts and you were feeling a little light-headed, but Harry didn’t seem to care. The look on his face said it all: relaxed, happy and a bit surprised at the impromptu concert.

Once you finished, Harry stood and clapped. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as he walked over and picked up your piece.

“You wrote this?” he asked, looking at the hand-written notes on the paper. “A bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

“It makes it more meaningful I think,” you said quietly.

He eventually stopped looking at the music itself to read the title. ‘A Heart for Harry: One Romantic Movement.’ Harry’s eyes locked with yours and that was enough for you to shoot up and push him quickly out the door. You leaned back against it and took a deep breath. You heard him shift on his feet for a moment or two before his footsteps receded down the corridor. You immediately regretted it.

Why did I do that!?! I have got to be the most awkward person in the galaxy.

You sat on your couch and went over the moment in your head. The way he listened to you play. How impressed he looked when he saw you had written it yourself. His face when he realized the song was for him.

He looked… Confused? Appalled? ...Happy?

You tried to replicate his face in your mind but you had been blinded by your shyness and you had no idea how he really reacted. That was ten times worse than not knowing. You laid down, remaining on the couch, wondering what in the world you were going to do now.

You awoke to your comm badge pinging and you quickly shot up. Were you late for a shift? A quick query to the computer erased that worry from your mind. It was 0100 and you had this particular day off. So who could this be in the middle of the night?

Hesitantly, you answered, “Yes?”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry if I woke you but I need you to meet me in Holodeck One,” Harry’s voice came softly over the comm system. You sat there for a moment before telling him you’d be there in five minutes.

You ordered the computer to turn the lights up in the bathroom, quickly washing your face and fixing your slight bedhead. You squeezed your hands into fists and they felt clammy. You wondered what the hell you were walking into as you left your quarters and headed towards the holodeck.

You got to the doors and as they whooshed open the scent of fresh flowers hit you. You were standing at the entrance to a gorgeous garden, filled with flowers from all over Earth and various other planets. There was a narrow cobblestone path that led deeper into it and you cautiously walked down it. As you went further and further, you began to hear music.

It almost sounds like… my song!

You quickened your pace on the winding path and soon you were in a clearing. And there, in the middle of it, was Harry Kim and his clarinet, playing a spectacular harmony to your song. You stood there as he reached the finale and he let the last note hang in the air for a few moments before putting his instrument down.

Harry walked over to you, gingerly grabbing your face and kissing you. It was gentle, and his lips were softer than you imagined. But there was a passion behind it too, as one hand dropped to your waist and another went to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss before he pulled away. You stood there panting slightly, with your hands resting on his chest and his eyes looking sweetly into yours.

“You don’t ever have to be nervous or embarrassed around me. I feel the same way about you, I have for a while.”

You had barely recovered from the kiss before his confession took you by surprise. Harry Kim had liked you the whole time and you had no idea? You started to laugh and he joined you, never once letting go of you.

“Computer, add a flute, a chair and a music stand,” Harry said. As the computer materialized these things, he led you to the chair and you sat down to play your song together. A sweet duet to start off a budding romance.

#star trek #star trek voyager #st voyager #harry kim #harry kim x reader #oneshot #request

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softlyjiminie · 4 years

Text

sempiternal | k.s.j

⇢ pairing(s): gryffindor!seokjin x hufflepuff!reader ex-slytherin!yoongi.

⇢ word count: 8.4K

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, hogwarts!au.

⇢ summary: love has many obstacles, more often than not, it is eternal and unchanging; an everlasting love.

⇢ warning(s): please read! swearing, breakups, semi-violence.

⇢ author’s note(s): hey guys! here’s another Harry Potter inspired fic, i worked real hard on this one, it’s been a year in the making so i hope you enjoy! you may read slytherin!yoongi here to understand.

the summer of your fourth year had to be one of the worst summers you’d ever had. your heart broken and torn and ripped and hurt from the year’s endeavours. you had wasted hours with soggy cheeks and a hoarse throat, the other girls in your dorm smoothing down your hair and whispering ‘he didn’t deserve you’’s into your ear as you fell asleep.

min yoongi. the boy you trusted with all your heart, and gone and ruined it just for a bit of fun. you could still feel the ringing in your ears as the howler spat his venomous words. the ringing didn’t stop after that.

at least not until seokjin came along.

you were back in the muggle world, with your muggle things and muggle life, trudging through your local corner shop, just looking for something, anything that you could stuff your face with and have no regrets. you wanted to forget. with tired feet, dragging across the store’s floor, you had finally reached the till, plopping the almost melted tub of ben and jerrie’s ice cream onto the counter.

you looked up with a sour face, trying to ignore the fact that the flavour you’d picked had been one of yoongi’s favourites when you introduced him to muggle treats. with a pang in your heart you met a pair of whisky coloured eyes and plump pouty lips that belonged to none other than kim seokjin.

kim seokjin.

fuck, it was kim seokjin.

the gryffindor boy with the soft blonde hair and sweet grin, who was a favourite amongst all of the houses. jin had been popular from his very first year at hogwarts, winning over everyone with his kind heart. he’d soared through the ranks in his house’s quidditch team, now acting as gryffindor’s prized seaker. the girls loved him, and you could see why. gasping, you looked away from the older boy, in his sixth year moving onto his seventh.

you missed how his lips twitched up into a soft smile as he scanned your tub. you shoved your fingers into the depth of your pocket, ready to pay with a bill or two before seokjins’s soft voice filtered through the air between you. “hey, YN. don’t worry about it, it’s on the house.”

you felt yourself melting at his soft tone, his honey brown eyes causing warmth to drift over your skin. how did he have that effect on you? You barely knew him. “t-thank you seokjin-“ you blushed, scooping up your bag. the older gryffindor offered you a dreamy smile before shaking his head and running after you once he realised you were leaving.

“you know-“ he hummed, walking you to the sliding doors. “i’ve seen you around, you seem like a nice girl that i’d like to get to know better,” his words sent a pang of warmth to your heart. “if you don’t mind waiting for me, my shift ends in a few minutes and we could hang out for a bit.”

you were hesitant at first, but stayed nonetheless, jaw dropping when seokjin rolled out of the store in a fitted white t-shirt and black skinny jeans (after changing out of his uniform.). he really was effortlessly beautiful. some would have called you foolish for trusting a boy you’d just met, but he was sweet, walking you to the nearest park and devouring your ice cream with you.

cookies and cream had never tasted so sweet, the memories that go with it becoming much fonder.

“i’m sorry about what happened with yoongi,” the blonde mumbled, as you spooned the last of the frozen desert into your mouth. you flinched, suddenly feeling the ringing from the howler again, and seeing the slytherin’s vacant expression as you ran past him. seokjin knew he had hit a nerve, his hand quickly engulfing yours. “you were really brave for handling it the way you did, i-it gave me the courage to talk to you today,” his thumb smoothed over the back of your hand, and you gulped, losing yourself in the coffee of his eyes. “you deserve better-“

‘i deserve someone like you.’ you had finished off in your head, leaning into him. your vision became clouded just at his touch, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. the moment was rushed, you’d only just met him, but you’d never been treated with such gentleness, like you were the most expensive thing in the world. seokjin’s eyes flicked down to your lips and then back up to your eyes and you so desperately wanted to meet him in the middle. just a kiss.

but he was gone as soon as he came. disappointment burying itself in your chest as your eyes fluttered open once again. seokjin was still holding your hands when your vision refocused, his grip on you not loosening. his whisky eyes noted how you posted and looked away from him. “Y-YN... i’m sorry,” he sighed, causing you to gently switch your gaze over to him again. “i know you’re hurting still and trust me, i really do want to kiss you but i don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage of you. i’ll wait until you’re ready, if you want me to. ”

your heart fluttered at the blonde’s words, but you could still feel the disappointment in your veins at the thought of waiting, even if it was best for you. “come on now,” Seokjin grinned, trying to make eye contact with you as you looked away from him to cover your pout. “don’t be upset YN, won’t you give me a smile?”

he was crouching in front of you now, palms resting on his knees as he pulled funny faces to make you laugh. you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in your throat when he sent a particularly weird one your way.

the gryffindor boy beamed adorably, his dark eyes twinkling under the light of the rising moon. “there’s that smile, pretty girl.”

a romance bloomed for you that summer, with seokjin being a muggle himself it was easier to meet up and organise dates. true to his word, the soon-to-be seventh year refused to kiss you or carry out any public displays of affection with you until you were ready so it took you almost two weeks to convince him to let you hold his hand.

he treated you like a delicate and wilted flower, watering you with the affection that you craved and might not have gotten with yoongi. he tended to your bruised petals, and lifted them high once again, the colour returning to your life.

seokjin was what you had needed all along.

you hadn’t kissed, like he promised until one night where you had invited him to meet your family, they were comforted and surprised at the fact that seokjin was a muggle like yourself. your mother even more so when she pulled you aside to comment ‘that’s not how i expected yoongi to look’ in which you blushed, catching the blonde’s eye from across the room as he wrestled your little brother into the carpet (much to your father’s delight).

“that’s because he’s not, mum,” you’d said in a hushed whisper, helping her to whip the cream for desert. “that’s seokjin...”

your mother hummed, staring between the two of you before giving you a small nod of approval. “well, i think he’s cute.”

after a dessert of warm apple pie and cream (or ice cream for your brother.), yourself and seokjin had headed up to your room for some alone time together. You’d shut the door behind you, turning around to find the tall blonde laughing at an old photo of you, which you’d swatted away with a pout. “your parents are really lovely,” jin whispered when you’d decided to curl up for some cuddles on your single bed, even if it was quite the squeeze. “your brother too.”

you smiled at him, twirling a golden strand of his around your finger, feeling his eyes drifting of your face. “they really like you seokjin, if you’re not careful, mum might not let you leave, you’ll be on washing up duty for life!” you gasped between small pockets of laughter, causing the boy you’d been dating to laugh loudly.

“so they really like me?”

“Indefinitely.”

“maybe more than your other boyfriends...?”

you knew he’d been referencing yoongi, careful not to mention his name. you’d never had a boyfriend before the slytherin boy anyways.

“hmm, i’m not sure...” you pretended to tease, almost instantly regretting your decision when Seokjin rolled over your smaller frame, leaving your side. His palms fell flat either side of your head, sinking into the memory foam mattress as he caged you in. suddenly one hand was at your stomach, pinching your side until you were crying from laughter and gasping for air. you had no idea he knew you were ticklish.

your brother must have told him.

“s-seokjin!” you cried, burying your face into his hard chest as he tickled you mercilessly. “i can’t-“

he didn’t allow you to finish, tickling you further with a devilish smirk spreading across his lips. “say i’m the best!”

“y-you’re the best! seokjin-“

his fingers paused, palms stretching out by your head again as you tried to regain your breath with a smile. you noticed then, how the pretty his eyes looked when the light hit them properly, how plush his lips were and soft his hair. it seemed as if seokjin was looking down at you with just as much awe, because suddenly he was swooping in, hands finding your cheeks as he sunk lower to brush his lips over yours. “c-can I kiss you?” he mumbled nervously.

you nodded. “please...”

his lips touched yours ever so slightly, and it’s only when you parted yours that he begun to kiss you fully. the plush pillows melding with each other perfectly, as your fingers threaded through tufts of his golden locks. jin’s hands slipped down from your cheeks to just under your shirt, soothing your heated skin as you worked your lips against his in a desperate attempt to taste more of him.

one kiss turned to two, and two to three and soon enough you were full on making out on your silly childhood bedsheets. it was only when you could hear the little thump of your brother’s footsteps against the hard wood of the stairs that you jumped apart, straightening your clothes.

seokjin was the first to stand, knowing it was him that your younger sibling sought. with careful steps, he made his way over to the door, offering you the brightest of smiles before saying. “there’s more where that came from pretty girl.”

you could have passed out on the spot.

confessions of love came not long after, with your impending return to Hogwarts coming up. seokjin had come to pick you up from your house in his parents’ car at around seven, promising your father you’d be back by eleven-thirty at the latest. he drove you both to the highest point in your home town to watch the sun go down and the city lights switch on, the sight taking your breath away.

the blonde had treated you to an elaborate picnic of home cooked goodies that he’d made and a tub of your new favourite ice cream of vanilla cheesecake. you’d sat munching the treats on the hood of the car, before laying back and watching the stars, pointing out constellations whilst holding hands.

and whilst star gazing reminded you of yoongi, you couldn’t find it in you to miss him.

seokjin looked down at you, your head resting on his chest with the stars pairing up in your eyes and he couldn’t help but blush when you met his gaze. “will it be the same?” you mumbled to him, thinking of your return to hogwarts. the older boy was to become a seventh year, and it would be his last year at the legendary school for practicing magic. He would be busy with his N.E.W.T.S and you with your O.W.L.S since you were moving into fifth year. would the feelings that sparked between you both change? for better or for worse? you heart couldn’t decide.

as if he was reading your thoughts, jin silenced your raging mind with a soft peck to your lips, which deepened when your fingers met his hair, pulling him closer. “i’ll still love you all the same.” he whispered against the seams of your pink lips, not quite wanting to pull away.

“you love me?” you gasped, voice barely above a whisper. all you could see was jin , all you could taste was jin and all you could breathe was jin. all you needed was jin. you heart pounded viciously against your rib cage as he slotted his body against yours, looking down at you with so much love.

“i do.”

and then you smiled, with bleary eyes and a raging heartbeat because not once had anyone of romantic interest said those words to you, not even yoongi. so whispering back, you uttered the words. “i love you too,”

your first few weeks back at hogwarts went smoothly, with you settling into a routine and managing to get top grades in the first-term assignments. your professors had suspected that you’d do exceedingly well in your upcoming O.W.L exams.

you heard tales of jimin and jungkook’s adventures with taehyung in the muggle world and secretly wished that next time they’d invited you. although you’d run into Yoongi on the first day back, seokjin never complained about you not introducing him as your boyfriend, nor did he push for any explanations when he’d walked in on yoongi trying to make amends, resulting in you becoming a blubbering mess the second you’d left that room.

seokjin was an angel, a sweetheart and you’d never been so happy, memories of your ex becoming faint as you made new ones with the blonde gryffindor . people called it the honeymoon phase and maybe it was, but you wouldn’t let other people’s spite get in the way of you being happy. at least that’s what you hoped for.

a few weeks at hogwarts turned into a month or so, with the winter air fast approaching and first signs of snow fall around the corner. you’d found yourself scurrying through the halls of the ageing castle, desperate to find your boyfriend; who had promised you an evening of hot chocolate and cuddles to make up for a date night you’d both had to miss.

seokjin was busy, being the headboy of gryffindor had started to take up a lot of his time that he usually left for you, on those nights where you’d meet outside the kitchens for a quick kiss before bed. quidditch practice had also picked up a tonne, with an important gryffindor vs slytherin match coming up that even jimin was training for.

it wasn’t just those things, that took up your time with him. the older boy had started hanging out with his teammates more, cutting into scheduled dates and even went on trips to hogsmead without you, only remembering when he found you half asleep outside his common room waiting for him. ‘darling...’ he’d say, lifting you bridle style, and humming in content as you nuzzled into his chest. ‘what’re doing out out here?’

‘waiting for you’ you’d mumble back, still half asleep. ‘we have a date planned don’t we?’

‘maybe another time.’

sometimes it felt like you were giving more than you were getting. you didn’t want to fall into that trap again.

your winter robes swished at your feet as you trotted down to the gryffindor common room, trying to meet jin before he had the chance to run off with one of his mates. you were walking so quickly, you hadn’t had the time to slow down before you collided with the gryffindor girl jimin had the hots for. “on YN! i didn’t see you there!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and giving you the once over to see if you were alright.

you smiled at her softly. “sorry, i wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“ah, it’s alright,” she blinked, looking at you as if there was something more to say. “did you need something? last time I checked you were a hufflepuff, no?”

the pair of you shared a sweet laugh before you managed to calm down enough to tell her where you were headed. “i-i’m looking for seokjin,” you strung together the words through your final puffs of laughter. “we-we’re meant to be hanging out today...”

you bite your lip, refraining from mentioning going on a date and watched with a patient stare as the gryffindor girl wracked her brain for memories of her headboy’s location. “he’s in the library!” she nodded, furrowing her brows as if to confirm her guess. she took note of the way your eyes lit up, sure, the library was an odd place to host a date, but you didn’t mind. “with Namjoon, I think he’s studying.”

you tried to hide the drop of your smile as you thanked the girl, heading towards the library in an even bigger rush than you were in before. you were mad, borderline livid, storming through the rows and rows of books that decked the shelves of the dusty library, your nose twitched at the musty air, but you chose to ignore it, waltzing right over to our target. You couldn’t believe seokjin was willing to miss yet another date.

you found both boys tucked into a corner of the room, books of charms and defence against the dark arts spread across the sleek mahogany table. you allowed yourself a few seconds to calm down, knowing that your face was probably heated high with rage and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of namjoon.

you didn’t know the purple haired boy all too well, but knew enough to be aware that despite having a quiet and perhaps even shy exterior, he was one of the best and bravest wizards in hogwarts. he was also in the year above you. when you’d finally worked up the courage to approach the table, namjoon was the first to notice you, his quill pausing midair as he glanced between your - still raging - face and his older housemate. “uh- hyung,” he coughed awkwardly as you silently seethed above him. seokjin didn’t budge, too focused on his notes. “hyung-“

“what namjoon-ah? i swear to merlin if you’ve spilt your ink again i-“ the blonde looked up, exasperated expression falling away as his quill stopped dead on the page. jin could practically feel your anger, washing over him in boiling waves like heated lava. He was in trouble. “oh.”

Your nose scrunched up. “damn right, oh.” you watched as your boyfriend’s face contorted into a sheepish expression, his gaze flittering down to his stilled hands.

“i’ve forgotten something haven’t i?” he whispered, the swell of his lips caught between a set of perfectly straight, pearl white teeth.

“oh of course not, only another date.”

both males seated at the table flinched at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice. namjoon raised his hand slightly, cowering under your sharp glare when you turned to face him. “t-to be fair, he does have N.E.W.Ts to study for-“

“shut up namjoon!” yourself and your boyfriend, very nearly, shouted earning yourself vicious hushes from students that were also in the library. the purple haired boy shrugged, trying to turn back to his work, leaving you and seokjin to deal with each other.

you felt your heart sink when he looked up at you, this hadn’t been the first time Jin had skipped out on a date, and you doubted it would be the last unless you put a stop to things. you couldn’t help it when a sad pout pushed at your lips, your boyfriend’s large hand coming round to cup your smaller ones. “oh honey. please don’t give me that look,” You turned away, opting to look out of the window instead of into his eyes, you were more likely to give into him then. “YN... i know you’re upset with me, but i promise to get better at this, i hate seeing you sad and the fact that i caused it makes it worse. i’m such an idiot.” He brought your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss atop your knuckles with a downtrodden look.

you blushed, feeling the weight of his stare get under your skin. he was always able to do that, make you smile.

“won’t you give me a smile pretty girl?”

And with that you broke out into a large, unstoppable grin.

the air was cold against your cheeks and nose, the bobble hat and scarf your mother had sent you, doing their best to shield you from the cool, crisp weather. hogsmead was littered with crystal snowflakes, blankets of the thick white layers stretching as far as the eye could see. you rubbed your gloved hands together in order to create some form of warmth, or perhaps it was to do with your nerves.

a few days after your confrontation in the library and some seriously overbearing affection from your boyfriend, he had decided to treat you out on the next trip to hogsmead. you had been bursting with excitement at the thought since then, every date with seokjin was just as nerve wracking as the last.

from inside the three broomsticks, the boys you had known to become your friends observed you with care and curiosity, the stomachs filled with warm pie and sweet butterbeer. “someone should go and get her,” jimin mused from over his plate of half eaten pie, he was starting to lose his appetite as he watched you through the window. “she’s bound to catch a cold out there.”

jeongguk looked up from his plate, crumbs dusting the outer corners of his lips as he munched on his slice of cherry pie. “what’s she waiting for again?” the younger asked, spraying his slytherin and hufflepuff companions with an assortment of pastry crumbs.

the pair cringed with disgust, wiping away their clothes as taehyung looked up. “she’s waiting for jin, they’re supposed to have a date today...” the Hufflepuff boy was already trailing off when his housemate hoseok let out a deep snore from his seat, slumped over the table. he’d had a late night sneaking around with his newly found slytherin girlfriend. “i saw him earlier on though, with his quidditch team...”

the boys fell silent, hoseok’s snores filling the air between them. jimin sighed; pushing his seat back to stand up and meet you outside. with a hat tugged over his luscious silver locks, he left his friends sitting solemnly at the table. the fifth year slytherin resisted the urge to retreat to the warm arms of the establishment once he was outside, his arm sliding around your shoulders for warmth. you jumped when you noticed.

“what’s been keeping you outside, away from the pie, YN?” the boy asked from beside you, you craned your neck to look up at him allowing your breath to catch at the sight of the snowflakes resting on his lips. jimin had always been charming and you would be a fool to say that you didn’t think he was attractive. so it came as no surprise when girls went after him, deeming him the catch of the century. the heartthrob of your year. and still, park jimin had always remained the humble boy you had met during first year, never letting the attention get to his head. park jimin may have seemed like a player, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, but what no one seemed to notice is that girls only wanted him for his pretty face and toned body. you only hoped that certain people saw past that, looking at the sweet boy who looked out for you so much.

you could see the concern wavering in his dark eyes, so you grinned up at him ignoring the cold dry stretch of your lips. “i’m waiting for seokjin,” you hummed, watching a puff of air fade into the snow scene. jimin flinched from beside you, arm tightening ever so slightly before he relaxed. “we h-have a date...”

jimin would have never missed the little tremble in your voice. part of you already knew that your boyfriend wouldn’t show up, you’d seen him babbling away with his teammates already and yet, you trusted him. trusted him not to break another promise. to not let this be just another honeymoon phase.

“at least i thought we had one.”

the silver haired slytherin sighed down at you, squeezing your smaller frame into the warmth of his body. “how about we go get you that pie, yeah?” he offered in a whisper and you nodded, ignoring the swell of heart break in your chest.

the halls were empty, as they should’ve been that night, with seokjin on hall monitor duty since we he was a prefect. he didn’t mind being up that late, seeing as it was a late start for him the next day. that didn’t stop him from feeling tired though, slips of exhaustion tingling in his brain as he walked mindlessly through empty halls.

the elder boy rounded a corner, only to be met with a shadowy figure at the other end of his path. as they stepped into the candle light, the blonde deemed the figure to be park jimin, his moonish hair was ruffled and a smirk lay delicately on his lips. some people called him a bit of a sleaze but seokjin knew better than to tell you that.

“jimin!” the gryffindor called out, earning a look of surprise from the younger boy, before a deep scowl. “what are you doing out here all by yourself?”

the silver haired boy rolled his eyes with a ‘tsk’ storming last jin, who held a look of shock before running to catch up with the slytherin. “it’s none of your business, is it?”

“i mean it’s awfully late,” seokjin tried to reason, carefully matching his steps with the boy. after all, jimin was yoongi’s cousin and their families had quite the reputation. “i could always deduct house points you know...”

jimin froze, closing his eyes as if to calm himself before turning to face the older boy. “you have a thing for being late or on time don’t you?” he paused, allowing seokjin to think. “you’re never late to class, to meals and most certainly quidditch practises, but you never seem to be on time for dates with your own girlfriend...or do you even show up at all?”

the gryffindor seventh year froze in his spot as jimin spun on his heel, walking backwards in the direction of his dorms. a cruel smile of a true slytherin crawling onto his lips. “deduct house points for that, why don’t you?”

whispers trickled through the classroom as a ravenclaw prefect slipped into your class, handing a note to your transfigurations professor. your eyes barely peaked up from your scroll, where you furiously scribbled ahead in your notes, desperate to finish your work ahead of time. your professor had a thing for letting students leave early if they completed their work.

the professor cleared their throat from the head of the classroom, silencing the whispers from your classmates. a mixture of ravenclaw and hufflepuff. your heartbeat soared when you made eye contact with the prefect, gaze skittering to jeongguk who was sitting beside you with lips pursed in curiosity.

the professor coughed again, causing your line of vision to shoot to them, and he offered you a gentle smile. “YN, you’re needed just outside the classroom.”

“now?” you stuttered, anxiety sky rocketing.

he nodded, opening the door for the prefect who was leaving. “now.”

you swallowed nervously, packing up your belongings as jeongguk gave you a reassuring grin. the class talked in hushed mutters as you passed, your body twitching with anxiety as you left the room. with your eyes trailed on your feet in shame, you lifted your head onto to be met with a familiar stare. “s-seokjin?” you asked in surprise, truth be told, after the incident at hogsmead, you had been hesitant to see him. it turns out he felt the same. “wh-what are you doing here? did you pull me out of class?”

he nodded, answering the questions swirling in your mind. “i needed to see you, it couldn’t wait,” the blonde paused, as if to seek your permission. he owed you an explanation and you bobbed your head slightly, an indication for him to proceed. “i-i know it looks bad, that i didn’t show up to hogsmead and that i’ve been ignoring you, but trust me YN, when i say that i’m going to make it up to you.”

you swallowed thickly at his words, folding your arms so that one hand could desperately clutch an elbow as if to soothe your nerves. with a bite of your lower lip, you glanced up at seokjin once more, an earnest and sincere expression painting his heavenly features, an expression you had seen many times before. you could feel yourself melting into the warmth of his gaze, your mind screaming to forgive him just so you could be close to him once more.

“i’m so sorry, pretty girl,” seokjin added, noting your hesitance to reply. the seventh year took a step forward, closing the distance between you as he reached out to brush a finger down the apples of your cheeks. you could feel yourself keening into his touch, giving into that guilty pleasure. To the risk of heartbreak again. “i promise i won’t miss out on another date again, i’ll treat you to a nice night out and we’ll spend the evening together and-“ you frowned at the familiarity of his words, each syllable recognisable to your ears. seokjin had said it all before, so why did you give in every time?

did he really care about you? were you really just a mindless fifth year, blindly following someone she loved? insecurities crept up your throat at the thought, choking you from the inside and tearing apart every fibre of your being. it’d only be a matter of time before seokjin left hogwarts and found someone his age. someone he could make it out of the honeymoon stage with. the blonde noticed the frown on your lips and the creases at your forehead. “pretty girl, please give me a smile?”

not this time.

“seokjin,“ you sliced through his words with a wavering voice, your boyfriend’s hand retreating from your face as he looked at you in shock. “you know i love you, you know i do but i-i think we should take a break. recently it feels like... i’m not getting what i give and i want to say but until you can prove me wrong... i just don’t want to end up like how yoongi and i did before. i don’t want to be your temporary fix.”

you stood still with a clenched fist until you finished, eyes that were screwed shut opened to find that your boyfriend was completely silent. his eyes told you that he wanted to speak up and you wanted that. you wanted him to say something, something to convince you that you didn’t need space or time apart, and that he wouldn’t let you be just a passing phase. seokjin stood before you, mouth opening and closing as he fought an internal battle.

with a shake of your head, you stepped away from him, a cloud of disappointment settling between you. his silence was enough. “i’ll see you around then, seokjin .” you breathed, gaze falling to the floor.

“YN..”

“please don’t pull me out of another class unless you have something important to say,” you cut him off bitterly, turning away with a swish of your golden embossed robes. “my grades are important to me.”

the halls were once again empty, a sort of coldness settling in them as seokjin patrolled them once more. paintings talked and whispered about his heartbreak, the frown on their golden boy’s face was far too much for them to handle. leaving them to turn away in despair.

he’d fucked up, he really had.

in his mind, seokjin had been doing right by you. he told you loved you, he made you laugh, he made you smile. but telling someone you love them and loving them are two different things. seokjin didn’t know that you felt abandoned, he didn’t take into account that he was creating a repeat of your last relationship. he wanted to do better for you, and he wasn’t.

so here he was, the gryffindor boy finding comfort on the cobblestone floor of his favourite place away from home. his dark eyes following the magic sprouting from his wand, casting his patronous just to keep his bitter heart company. the scops owl danced around him, wings of blue flapping and shedding its diamond tears. the blonde could only watch with parted lips as his patronous burst into pieces, revealing a munching slytherin before him.

it was common for yoongi and seokjin to cross paths when the elder was on hall duty, more often than not the slytherin boy found himself talking to the house elves who gave him cookies and milk late at night when he couldn’t sleep. the two would bump into each other in the winding halls and magical staircases, share an awkward smile and wave (more like yoongi was grimacing) before heading in opposite directions. tonight was no different, except yoongi noticed something.

seokjin was sad.

the younger boy, with his hair dyed a simple black, knew the familiarity of sadness’ wake. he knew how much it would help someone to offer them a smile or a hand in times like this. yoongi chewed the dry skin at his bottom lip before taking a step towards the elder and holding out half of the cookie he had left. “it looks like you could need it.” the slytherin mumbled gruffly, looking away for a second.

seokjin’s lips parted once more, the words catching on the rim of his mouth as he stared up at the younger boy. not once had they had such a, for a lack of better word -civil- interaction. there had always been the space between them, the elephant between the two. you. but, now it seemed, they shared common ground. you had left both of them.

“thank you.”

yoongi looked conflicted for a second, debating whether or not he should stay and comfort the elder. his bed seemed much further from his mind than he had hoped for, at this point. “are you...” he started, tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “are you okay, seokjin?”

the question startled the elder, perhaps just a bit, still not used to this level of attention from the boy who’s girlfriend he’s stolen. he couldn’t help when his lips begun to form the words. “no, not really.”

“wanna talk about it?”

“y-yeah, sure.”

at this point the slyhterin had bunched himself up beside seokjin, looking at him with sleep ridden eyes but an expression that said he was ready to listen. and yet, the blonde felt himself hesitating. why did it have to be yoongi? of all people, to find him here in this vulnerable state, it had to be the boy who probably hated him most.

“YN left me,”He muttered, throat closing in fear of judgement from the very boy who lead him to YN. “we, uh...she broke up with me.”

a pause.

yoongi gasped. “Oh wow.”

seokjin looked up, a fire ready to set ablaze in his eyes as he stared the slytherin down with ease. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

yoongi shuffled, looking up at the ceiling as his dark hair fell over his eyes, it was almost as if he hadn’t been sure what to say, then again he’d never expected to find himself in kim seokjin’s company.

“it’s just that...it’s clear as day to anyone...how much she loves you,i don’t think anyone thought it would end. i never thought it would end. you were her forever it seemed.” yoongi confessed with a slight frown and a crease to his brow, the storm of hurt rumbling behind his black magic eyes. “yoy were her forever and not me,” he turned to seokjin, angry at him, angry for him, angry at himself. “you were supposed to be her forever and not fuck up like me, for merlin’s sake you piece of shit.”

the gryffindor blinked as he shuffled away from his younger, not quite expecting him to lash out in such a way. “yoongi...”

“no, shut up!” the latter growled, his voice eerily hushed for the venom laced in his tone. yoongi stood, past emotions rushing through him as he tried his best not to combust. thoughts and feelings of that fateful day blasting a chill through his veins. “I bet you promised not to hurt her, I bet you promised not to be like me.” The words spilled before Yoongi could stop them, white hot anger flashing behind his eyes as his word slurred with fury, Seokjin flinched at every syllable of truth hitting home. “Didn’t you?”

“i did, I promised…” the elder remembered, frowning at himself as yoongi sat down, the anger having rolled out of him by now. the two sat together in the dark halls, emotions swirling through their minds and hearts as they reflected.

a moment passed.

“so, how do you intend to keep that promise?”

“wh-what?” the blonde babbled sheepishly, surprised by the slytherin’s sudden change in attitude. Yoongi smiled sadly at his elder, running a hand through his blackened locks, pushing it out of place as he eyed Seokjin. “What do you mean?”

yoongi hummed slightly, kicking his foot on the cobblestone floor as he chewed on his lip. He hadn’t meant to blow up at the gryffindor earlier, too many feelings from the last year still resonating within him at the time. however, now he felt a sense of guilt, wanting to help the poor headboy especially if it meant helping YN, who deserved all the best. “I just mean… you promised her that you’d be better than me, so you have to show her that. I didn’t mean to blow up at you so bad, but I felt like we both had things to say.”

“what i’m trying to say, is that if you’re going to make it up to her, you need to show her what she means to you.” the younger noted, distantly.

seokjin’s brow creased. “how do I do that?”

yoongi smiled softly this time as he stood, placing his hand on the older’s broad and firm shoulder. “that’s for you to figure out what I couldn’t.” he mumbled softly, bidding the gryffindor a good night as he stepped out into the darkness.

your shoulders sagged as you dumped your bag against the door, shrugging off robes and collapse on your bed. You’re exhausted, the hours of herbology notes you’d written up had finally taken its toll on your cramping hand.

you desperately want to nap, just a few seconds before the girls get back from their classes and start to squeal over how your infamous best friend kim taehyung snuck his muggle pet into hogwarts. you swear their giggles and claps gave you more migraines than watching jimin endlessly flirt.

you’re only two steps away from your bed, the smooth honey yellow sheets drawing you in when a warm hand slips over your mouth and another pulls you into a firm chest.

a horrified scream escapes your lips, was this a prank? were you being attacked? did one of those horrible slytherin boys that picked on everyone sneak into the dorms? a million and one thoughts popped into your mind, and you only wished you still had your wand on you. you’d stupidly left it in your robes.

the stranger whispers short shhs into your ears, but you’re too busy rustling and kicking your legs to care. with heavy breaths you bite on the hand, gagging at its salty taste and jab your elbow into the ribs of your attacker, pulling yourself away from their rather large frame.

“hey hey! YN, it’s me!” the stranger cries, holding a hand to their ribs as the suck the blood from their wounded hand. he pants, his robes disheveled as you eye him up and down.

you’re mad, more than so. how dare he come into your private space uninvited, holding you in such a way and giving you such a fright that you screamed louder than the herbs you’d been studying earlier. “by merlin! seokjin what the hell? what do you think you’re doing?” you start, face heating up at all the fury you’ve kept hidden. you try to convince yourself that the anger you feel is because of him sneaking up at you, and not because of the yearn in your heart that comes after seeing him for the first time in a while.

the blonde wipes his hand on his robes, crimson blood blending in with the red of his house. the colour stings your eyes, a reminder of his place in hogwarts. above you. the doubts from times with yoongi creep into your mind, and it takes you a second to remind yourself that you’re better off without him. both of them.

“i’m sorry, i know i shouldn’t be here, but i had to see you.”

the words, as sweet as they sound, make you curl into yourself. they would have made you blush before, they would have made you smile. but your heart still hurts from where be betrayed your trust. your eyes meet his, they’re still as warm and as inviting as you remember, and maybe a little more dull. you wonder if he’s taking things well. you know that you aren’t, you miss him.

you want him to stay, but you don’t want to give in.

“you have three minutes to talk, starting with why and how you’re here.” you say pointedly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you cast your gaze aside. your ears detect the small gasp of joy that the gryffindor lets out and your body reacts to the steps, desperately needing his touch after all these weeks.

he blinks as he shuffled towards you, rubbing his thumb over his own knuckles. “i missed you,” seokjin breathes, he knows that he shouldn’t have said it. He can tell by way your face contorts in a slight pain and the way your hand comes to grip your chest from over your shirt. ‘don’t’ he hears you mumble and closes his eyes softly. “i used a disguising spell so i could follow some girls in, and hid behind your door. i’m here because...because i realised how foolish i’ve been, i know that ive hurt you and im here to desperately ask for your forgiveness,”

you blink, frowning at him as he speaks, you’re not used to apologies. but this isn’t yoongi, this is seokjin. “i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll wait for you because i realise how much i need you here.” the blonde finishes, grasping your hand with need. the simple touch sends you into a spiral, your cravings for his closeness raging on as he pulls away.

“seokjin...” you whisper, so close to him that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“i don’t need an answer from you now, just for you to come to the quidditch match on friday.” the taller asks, his tone pleading slightly. he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you say no, fear wrapping around his heart and squeezing.

you shook your head, not sure if you were agreeing or disagreeing. you watched with forlorn eyes a the elder wizard moved to kiss your knuckles, standing upright to exit through the door. “i can’t promise you that.” you mumble quietly, letting him walk toward it.

“then just seeing you is enough.”

the cold air nips at your cheeks as you stand in line with your fellow hufflepuffs. the hands of frost pinch at your skin, and tickle your nose, wrapping their evil arms around your waist as you shiver with annoyance. taehyung looks down at you and smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him. his sweater is warm like the honey yellow that drips from its fabric, and you cling to him more in search of it.

girls squeal around you, they chatter about their favourite quidditch players. jimin is all that they mutter, and while he’s your friend you can’t help but he chanting for someone else in your head.

“seokjin’s playing today,” a ravenclaw giggles, casting you a side glance as yourself, taehyung, hobi and little jungkook advance in the line. “i wonder who she’ll be cheering for now that she’s had a taste of both houses.”

the snide remark sets a blaze off in your chest, but you instead, squeeze your housemate’s hand tighter. the boys continue excitedly, going on and on about how jimin trained on end for this. yet your mind lingers on the gryffindor himself. you wonder if he’s thinking of you, of how you would calm him before every match. you feel your heart skip a beat at the thought as you pass through the gates, into the stalls.

students from all years, hufflepuffs from all ages sit with one another and chat excitedly, but you don’t miss the way their loud words become hushed as you and your friends walk by. “don’t worry about them,” jungkook reminds you when you sit down, his bright doe eyes giving you comfort. “they’re just jealous.”

“of what?” you mumble; there’s nothing that you have. you’re no longer with the golden boy of hogwarts, what else is there to be jealous of?

hoseok leans over taehyung’s lap to reach for you, his mouth covered in the chocolate frogs that he’d brought from hogsmead. “you’ll see!”

the boys all share a look and a giggle, you swore they acted like gossiping girls sometimes. you shake your head and roll your eyes, settling into the seat. the hard wood makes your thighs uncomfortable and your teeth still chatter from the cold. a tap on your shoulder makes you turn around.

“YN LN?” the boy asks, adorning the signature ruby robes. you nod, and he looks relieved, pulling something from his cloak and passing it to you. “this is for you.”

he speaks, but doesn’t saw where the brown paper package is from. you allow your fingertips to touch at the material as the boys around you stare. you gasp in awe when you tear open the paper, revealing seokjin’s deep red sweater, his name printed on the back.

‘i love you, please wear this.’ the note reads, and you clutch the clothing to your chest, catching the eye of seokjin as he whizzes out into the pitch.

screams echo in your ears as the final minutes before half time tik closer and closer. you had never understood sports, muggle or wizard like, you had always found them particularly boring. quidditch in a way reminded you of the football your father watched on a sunday down at the pub, either coming back extremely heartbroken or so excited that he’d press sloppy kisses all over your face.

the students around you jeer at slytherin players as the zip past on their broom, chasing after the infamous golden snitch. you pay little attention, playing with the loose thread of the gryffindor’s sweater, having slipped it on. the fabric smells like him, like comforting nights spent by the fireplace in his common room. you close your eyes and can almost feel his arms wrap around you, and his plush lips press soft kisses to your hair. if you close your eyes you can imagine what it’s like to be with seokjin again.

the excited chanting suddenly turns into worried gasps, and your eyes shoot open. you seem him, seokjin, spiralling down from the highest point. his broom appears busted and the other players of his team are chasing after him. your heart stops in your chest as you notice jimin heading down after him as well, the mop of silver hair fluttering with the rapid breeze as he zooms after your lover.

you can feel fearful trembles start to wrack your body, your friends beside you holding you close as you all sit on the edge of our seats. waiting for impact. waiting for the scream of pain.

it doesn’t come.

instead, the blonde stops inches from the ground, his broomstick shooting up into the sky. the wands of his fellow housemates on the ground, follow him and suddenly the sky appears less grey and more...

orange.

bursts of red and yellow spout from his broom, the petals coating the entire pitch and all the stalls as seokjin circles it, followed by his team mates. the students of hogwarts look up to the skies in awe, giggling and dancing in the petals. you catch two, holding them in your palm as you rub the silken petals. red and yellow, tangle together.

jungkook shakes your shoulder, pointing up. “what?” you mumble, but replace the tone with a surprised gasp as seokjin comes to a halt on his broom in front of you. he holds out two whole flowers, one a deep rouge and the other a sunset yellow. he looks to you with shy brown eyes and parted pink lips, and you can feel a thousand and one pairs of eyes on the two of you.

“chrysanthemums,” you whisper, taking them lightly and tilting your head to meet his gaze. “they’re my-“

“your favourite... i know,” the gryffindor smiles, pointing to the plants in your grip. “yellow is for love and red for loyal love.” he explains, nearing you and you tune out the squeals of girls nearby. “YN i know, that these last few weeks have been hell without you, to which is a fault of my own. i let myself take you for granted, instead of showing you what love should be. you deserve every ounce of love and everything good from then on. i promise from this forward; to love you eternally...that is, if you shall have me?”

“seokjin...i love you too.” you whisper, rushing forward through the stands to capture his lips in a soft, emotional kiss. you feel the truth in his words and the love that he once gave, relaxing into him as you fight the tears of longing in your eyes.

the klaxon sounds for the end of half time, but you ignore it, kissing him until the moment remains eternal in your mind.

516 notes · View notes

leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years

Text

BTS DRABBLE

Anon Request: Your child throws a tantrum.

Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, Bangtan Boys, Beyond the Scene, Bangtan Seonyondan, Dad Au, Husband AU, Fluff, Anon Request, Anon Ask, Seokjin x you, Yoongi x you, Hoseok x you, Namjoon x you, Jimin x you, Taehyung x you, Jungkook x you

Genre: Fluff

Title: You Need to Calm Down

KIM SEOKJIN

“Jin, (Y/N)!” The sound of your doctor’s cheery voice fills the room as she comes in through the door, your file held in her hand as she reaches out to shake first your husbands, and then your own hand, smiling over her glasses as she says with amusement, “I didn’t think I’d see you two back here again.”

Jin laughs, returning his hand to yours where you sit on the exam table, as he replies jokingly, “Us either, doc.”

“This was a huge surprise obviously.” You chime in, rolling your eyes at Jin, as he and the doctor laugh at your obvious exasperation.

Your doctor crosses the room, reaching out to shake your daughters’ hands, as she exclaims with surprise and another bright smile at the two girls, “And Mishil, Hyo! You two are all grown up!”

Hyo offers her a lackluster greeting in return, looking up from her phone only long enough not to seem rude, but Mishil bounces excitedly in her seat at the doctor’s greeting, eyes flicking to the ultrasound machine as she asks enthusiastically, “Is that the machine you use to see the baby?”

“Yes!” Your doctor responds, setting down her chart and moving over to the machine in question. “Would you like to come over here Mishil, and I’ll show you how it works?”

Mishil nods and darts across the room, listening intently as the doctor turns on the ultrasound and points out the different parts to your daughter, her eyes wide as she looks over the wand and screen and keyboard with awe as your doctor finishes up explaining sound waves to the girl, before holding up the wand toward you, “Now, let’s see this baby, yeah?”

Lifting up your shirt to reveal your abdomen, only barely beginning to swell with the new life inside at three months, the doctor positions the wand on your skin and moves it around, Mishil peering over her shoulder, breath held, until the sound of a strong, fast heartbeat feels the room, making everyone sigh in relief as the doctor stills the wand and glances over at the screen, a smile on her face as she gestures for Mishil, “And there’s your sibling. See? All snug and warm in mom’s tummy.” She motions to different parts of the ultrasound screen. “There’s baby’s head and legs, and oh! Look, they’re waving at you, sister!”

You turn your head to glance at Jin, who is looking at the screen with just as much fascination as his daughter, and laughing, you squeeze his hand, grinning at him as he looks down at you in the dim light of the room. “You’re just as excited as she is.”

“Can you blame me?” He asks, mocking offense, as he leans over to press a kiss against your forehead, lips soft on your skin. “That’s our baby right there.”

“Surprise baby.” You remind him with an amused tone, as he winks at you before turning to his older daughter, still sequestered away in the corner, face lit up by the screen of her phone.

“Hyo. Do you want to see?” Jin asks, and Hyo, in response, lifts her head for the briefest of moments to look at the picture of the forming baby on the screen.

“Cool. Looks like an alien.” She says boredly, before turning back to her phone and plopping her headphone back into her ear.

“She’s just as excited about this baby as she was about Mishil, I see.” Your doctor comments, offering you and Jin a sly smile, as she flips on the lights and hands the printed pictures of the baby to a thrilled Mishil.

“Yup.” You say dryly, Jin chuckling, as you remember your first appointment with Mishil so many years ago.

9 Years Earlier......

“Look, Hyo! There’s the baby!” You say excitedly, pointing to the screen of the ultrasound, as Jin hefts your four year old daughter higher into his arms for a better view.

“That’s the baby?” The four year old little girl asks, skepticism heavy in her small voice, as she squints her eyes at the screen, seemingly unconvinced over your enthusiasm. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know yet, princess.” Jin replies, eyes still watching the baby’s movements on the screen, as the doctor moves the wand around on the bare skin of your belly. “What do you want, Hyo? A brother or a sister?”

“Neither. I don’t want a sister or a brother.” Hyo says, whining, her voice growing in pitch, as she struggles to get down from her father’s arms. “I don’t want a baby!”

“Honey...” You say soothingly, knowing the tone of voice that Hyo is using, knowing she is dangerously close to a tantrum, as she you shoot Jin a sharp look from the exam table.

“No!” Hyo stomps her tiny foot on the tile of the floor, as the doctor finishes and moves to turn on the lights, printing out some pictures of the baby and giving them to Jin as he crouches down beside his now crying daughter. “Put the baby back! I don’t want a baby! Put it back!”

“Hyo.” Jin says above her wails, eyes creased into slits as crocodile tears slide down her plump cheeks. “Look. Do you want to hold the pictures of the baby?”

“I’ll give you guys a minute.” The doctor says, sympathy clear in her tone, as she shoots a look toward the toddler, before leaving the room.

“No! I don’t want to see the baby!” Hyo wails, hitting the string of ultrasound pictures out of her father’s offered hand, as she clenches her fingers into fists and stomps her feet some more. “Mommy, put the baby back! Get it out of your tummy! I don’t want a baby!”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound slightly exasperated, as you slide down from the table and crouch in front of your distressed daughter, returning Jin’s look of slightly harried amusement, as you say softly, “Hyo. I promise. You’ll like the baby. But the baby isn’t coming for a long time, so until then, it’ll just be me, you and daddy, okay?”

Hyo sniffles, large tears still falling from her dark lash line, as she glances down at the pictures on the floor at her feet, resting on the tips of her tiny tightly tied sneakers. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Will that make you feel better about the new baby, princess?” Jin asks gently, humor still clearly hidden behind his words, as he leans down to pick up the discarded pictures.

Hyo nods. “Yes. As long as I don’t have to share my ice cream with the baby.”

“Never.” Jin promises the little girl, as he enfolds her tiny hand in his large one to lead her from the room.

MIN YOONGI

“Fry, fry!” Your daughter squeals excitedly, as she chases a large butterfly around the trails of the playground, her stubby legs churning in her haste to reach the insect, chubby, dimpled hands outstretched.

“The energy of children is God’s way of punishing us now for not getting enough sleep in our shitty younger years.” Yoongi groans as he sits down beside you on the bench, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in the warmth of the sun, as he lets out a tired sight.

You shoot him an amused glance, as Holly, who was curled up in your lap, stretches at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, before crossing the bench to settle into his own lap as you say, keeping an eye on Jag-Eun, still enamored by the butterfly, “Ah, come on, baby. You’re not telling me the two year old has tired you out already, are you?”

He cracks open an eye to shoot you a glare, and you laugh, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, as one of your hands goes out to smooth over Holly’s soft head. “Don’t test me, woman. That child is a tornado of endless energy. And she doesn’t get it from me.”

“I have good genes.” You shrug one shoulder, grinning at him as he once again glares at you playfully from beneath the brim of his baseball cap, coat pulled up tightly around his neck against the early spring chill. You reach out, squeezing his cheek playfully between two fingers. “Come on, Min. Admit it. Jag-Eun got all of her good qualities from me.”

Yoongi snorts, pulling out of your grip, his own long fingers tangling into Holly’s hair as he pets the dog on his lap, watching as Jag-Eun makes another lap around the playground on wobbly legs, bright pink jacket glaring in the sunshine, dark pigtails bouncing animatedly on top of her head. “If you mean her shitty sleeping schedule, her absolute disrespect for listening to anything I say, and her unmatched stubbornness, then yes, I agree.” He raises a brow in your direction, pale skin dewy in the spring light. “Our daughter did get all of her most distinguishing qualities from you.”

You stick your tongue out at him and he chuckles in response, the sound deep and low in his chest, but before you can retort anything, Jag-Eun, her interest lost on the butterfly, toddles over to you, small hand going out to pat your knee as she says repeatedly, “Mama, mama, mama!”

“What, baby?” You ask, taking her up into your arms, and bouncing her slightly, nuzzling your nose into her sweet smelling hair, making her giggle, eyes bright and dark and so much like her father’s.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” Jag-Eun chants, wriggling against you, squirming in your arms.

“Yes, that’s daddy.” You hum, but after another moment, you follow her gaze, realizing she’s not looking at Yoongi beside you, but instead, toward the street behind where you sit, eyes wide, hands grasping toward something out of her reach, excitement practically humming around her body.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” Jag-Eun repeats again, more urgently this time, and you and Yoongi both turn to see what she’s looking at so intently.

“Shit.” Yoongi swears, quiet enough under his breath that his daughter doesn’t hear, as you both realize there is a large public transportation bus parked along the side of the road, and on the bus, plastered along both sides, is a large picture of Yoongi from the group’s last photo shoot, complete with lou, blaring letters that read ‘BTS SUGA-MIN YOONGI.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s daddy’s bus.” You say, trying to distract the toddler, knowing how uncomfortable it is for Yoongi to have his face plastered all across Seoul with the new promotions. He has never liked the attention. “Let’s go home and eat some lunch, hm?” You stand, setting your daughter down at your feet as you pull on your coat.

“Come on, Munchkin.” Yoongi speaks, his voice low, as he bends down to slip your daughter’s arms into her coat, which she had shed at some point while chasing the butterfly. Holly stands at his feet, tail wagging happily, tongue lolling out, excited to be walking once again after the break.

Yoongi’s hand closes around Jag-Eun’s smaller one, as he begins to lead her away from the park, back toward your apartment, but before he can get far, his daughter’s face is screwing up in distress, and large tears are filling her brown eyes as she strains against him, once again in the direction of the bus.

“No! Daddy bus! Daddy bus! Me!” She struggles to get out of her father’s grip, pointing toward the bus, and then to herself, as if to tell you what she wants.

Your gaze meets that of your husband’s, slight panic in his eyes, as he regards his wailing daughter, still straining toward the bus with his face stretched across it, and he mouths to you over her head, knuckles going white on Holly’s leash, “I don’t want to ride that damn bus, (Y/N).”

Nodding, you crouch down on your heels in front of your still crying daughter, trying to block her view of the offending bus, as you take her chubby cheeks in your hands, saying reasonably, “Jag-Eun, honey. You and I will ride daddy’s bus another day. But today, we have Holly, and puppy’s aren’t allowed on the bus.” Your voice is light, trying to quiet the frown that is still crinkling her face, as you motion toward Holly.

“No!” Jag-Eun shakes her head forcefully, pigtails whipping her face. “Daddy bus! Go! Me!” She points to her small chest, then back to the bus, then up to you and Yoongi, before finally waving a finger at Holly. “We go! Holly! Daddy! Mama! Me!” Her face lights up with a cheesy grin, gums pink like her father’s, eyes bright and still wet with tears as she leans around you to stare at bus.

Glancing up at Yoongi, who is still slightly stressed, brow furrowed, you shrug slightly, as if to say ‘there’s nothing else I can do,’ and faced with your indifference and his daughter’s irresistible gummy smile, he groans regretfully, rubbing at his temple with his free hand, as he complains, “You’re lucky I love you two.”

Standing, you take Holly’s leash from him, as he bends down and swoops Jag-Eun into his arms, tickling her briefly and making her giggle, as you offer him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry baby.” You pick up the minature poodle at your feet. “I’m going to have to stuff Holly in my bag if that makes you feel any more fortunate.”

“It doesn’t.” Yoongi grumbles, as he steps around the bench, headed for the bus, daughter still held in his arms.

Jag-Eun’s eyes light up as you walk and she points excitedly at the bus, bouncing up and down in her father’s arms. “Daddy bus! Daddy bus!”

“Yep, munchkin.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at you and you grin in return, as he shuffles his baseball cap down farther over his eyes, hoping not to be recognized, as he says begrudgingly, “Let’s go ride daddy’s damn bus.”

JUNG HOSEOK

You enter the mall, bustling with people, busy for a Saturday, and making sure you have a firm grip on the twins’ hands, you crouch down, looking at both of them sternly, as you say firmly, “Boys, focus, okay? Remember. What are the rules?”

“Stay with you or daddy.” Korain pipes up, dark eyes focused on your face, as he messes with the zipper of his jacket with his free hand.

“Don’t touch things.” Kyong follows his brother, face hidden in shadow beneath his baseball hat, as he fidgets in your grasp, wanting to run and get into mischief as only five year old little boys can.

“And?” You prompt, glancing up at Hobi, who stands behind the boys, typing out something on his phone, probably an email in regards to their new schedule. “Daddy?”

“Hmmm?” He hums, before tucking his phone into the back pocket his jeans, brows raised at you in question as you roll your eyes and the twins giggle.

“What’s the third rule for today?” You ask again, coming to your feet as you straighten Kyong’s jacket on his shoulders.

“Have fun?” Hobi asks mischeviously, as the twins once again erupt into giggles at their father’s feet, his eyes and face lighting up wiith a bright smile as he winks at you.

“It’s actually ‘don’t talk to strangers’ but that’s close enough I guess.” You offer him an exasperated smile in return, before looking back down at the twins. “Okay, guys. Daddy’s going to take you to get your backpacks. And then you’ll meet me back at the shoe store when you’re done, okay?”

“Backpacks, backpacks!” Korain chants out, as he and his brother grasp hands and begin to encircle around your legs, laughing and cheering their rousing new chant over and over.

“Come on, boys. Follow me, huh?” Hobi waves a hand at them, before he leans over and kisses your cheek, saying to you as the twins’ take his outstretched hands in their own, “See you soon, yeah?”

“Keep an eye on them please.” You say pointedly, offering him a stern stare, as he waves, the twins skipping along beside him, as you sigh and head off down the mall to the other stores.

It’s not much later, that you look up from the bench you are sitting on inside the shoe store, surrounded by potential picks for the boys, and see a triumphant Hobi and happy twins enter the store and head in your direction.

“So, how’d it go?” You ask, shoe box settled on your lap, as the boys’ each hold up their respective purchased backpack for you to see, eyes wide and glistening with excitement.

“I picked a dinosaur bag, mom!” Korain waves the bag in your face as Hobi sits down beside you, and you laugh, inspecting the backpack as he watches you with expectant eyes.

“It’s awesome, Ko!” You reply brightly, handing the bag back to your son, as Kyong holds up his purchase, close enough to your face that you have to back up a little to see what he’s showing you. “And what did you pick, Ky?”

“Race cars!” Kyong jumps and down, flashing the car covered bag to you and his father. “They’re so fast!”

“I tried to get them to pick a backpack with my face on it, but they were set on dinosaurs and cars.” Hobi complains next to you, his long legs stretched out in front of him, as his fingers absentmindedly play with the hole above your knee that marks your ripped jeans. “BTS is everywhere this year. The least they could do is represent their dear old dad.”

“Sorry, baby.” You say, amusement in your tone, as you lean over to press a kiss to his temple, lips quirked into a smile. “Maybe next year.”

Hobi sighs, and as the twins chatter amongst themselves about their new backpacks, you hand them each a shoe box, pointing to the two of them, as you say seriously, “Now. You both need new shoes. Try these on.”

“Shoes are boring.” Kyong complains, plopping down on the floor to remove his worn sneakers.

“Yeah, this is boring, mom.” Korain joins his brother, sitting down on the floor as he tugs at his laces.

“I think you’ll like what I picked out.” You ignore their whining, raising a brow at them both as they open and dig into the boxes you handed them.

“Cool! Buzz Lightyear??” Kyong squeals happily as he removes the sneakers, etched with the familiar character, from the box, grinning up at you, heart shaped mouth so much like his father’s.

You nod.” Try them on. Make sure they’re comfortable.”

As the boy moves to stuff his feet excitedly into the sneakers, you glance over at Korain, who is holding his own shoe in his hand, watching his brother silently, a look of slight disappointment on his face. “What’s wrong, Ko?” You ask, furrowing your brow as his eyes meet yours. “I thought you would like those Pengsoo sneakers?”

Korain looks down at the Korean character of the giant penguin that marks the sneaker in his hand and then glances back up at you again, and you are surprised, to see tears in his dark eyes. “But I want Buzz Lightyear sneakers too. Like Ky.”

You glance at Hobi, who looks shocked as well, and he offers you half a shrug, as you say with a sigh to your son, “Ko, you know I don’t like you two to match. It makes it too hard to keep track of your things.”

“But Buzz Lightyear is so much better than any dumb old penguin!” Korain yells, throwing the offending sneaker against the bench where you sit, folding his arms across his chest, as he watches his brother stomp around in said sneakers with an intense air of jealousy.

Again, you look at Hobi, and again he shrugs, before he says quietly, “What’s so bad about them having matching sneakers, babe?”

You groan, looking toward your pouting son, sitting silently on the floor, and then back to his father as you say under your breath, “You know I hate giving into the twin mentality that everything has to match.”

“I know, baby.” Hobi throws his arm around your shoulders, offering you a slight amused, slightly empathetic smile, before he whispers beneath his breath, “And I love you for it. Always sticking it to the man. But.” He grins at you, raising a brow in your son’s direction. “I don’t think letting both our sons have Buzz Lightyear sneakers is going to ruin your hardcore, rebellious image.”

“Fine.” Groaning again, you call out, “Korain?” When the twin finally meets your gaze, you wave your hand at him with an air of defeat. “Let’s go find the Buzz Lightyear sneakers in your size.”

KIM NAMJOON

“Oh, it’s so bright, huh baby girl?” You coo to your infant daughter, stretched out in your lap, blinking owlishly against the midday afternoon sun.

Reaching up to straighten the tiny sunhat on her head, you glance up from where you’re sitting beneath the umbrella, cross legged on a large towel, scanning the beach for a sight of Joon, who had taken Moon-soo to play in the surf.

Catching sight of the pair in question walking toward you, you wave as Moon-soo darts across the hot sand to you, and plopping down in the shade beside you, grins widely, dimples dark on his cheeks, as he says excitedly, “Mama! Did you see that big wave? Did you?”

“I did.” You nod, reaching out to ruffle his dark hair, as Joon settles underneath the umbrella, long frame stretched the length of the towel, as he props himself up on one elbow, reaching out to let Hana grip one of his long fingers. “Is the water cold, Moonie?”

“No, it’s warm today!” Your son continues, his gaze no longer on your face, as he organizes the collection of shells and other treasures he has found on the mat of the towel.

“I didn’t think it was warm.” Joon chuckles, making faces at the baby on your lap, who is watching her father with large, unblinking eyes, perfect pink lips pursed as she concentrates. “You wouldn’t like it, jagi.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t.” You agree, flashing him a smile, as you shift on the towel, sand warm beneath you as you look out over the beach. “I think i’ll just stay safe and dry with Hana today.”

“Can I go play in the waves, mama?” Moon-soo asks, bored with his sticks and stones and shells.

You nod, but before he can make a move to leave, you grab his upper arm, making him look at you as you say sternly, “Yes, but stay right where we can see you. And don’t leave the edge of the sand, okay?”

At his nod, you release him, watching as he skips down to the edge of the water, sitting down to splash in the salty ocean waves, as you sigh and settle back, leaning against Joon slightly as you both watch your son for several moments in silence.

“Do you like the beach, Hana?” Joon asks quietly, not really to anyone, as he plays with the baby’s hands, her eyes still scanning the features of her father’s face from your lap. “You’ll probably like it more when you’re older.”

Glancing up as slightly warm, humid breeze blows in off the water and ruffles your loose hair, you squint suddenly, as Moon-soo stands up from the waves, something long and dangling held in one hand, the unknown object the sudden focus of his interested scrutiny, and ask over your shoulder to your husband, “What does Moonie have?”

Joon looks up from playing with his daughter, glancing in the direction of his son, and his voice, slightly suspicious, says, “That looks like.....is that....?”

“Shit. Is that a dead fish?!” You gasp out, before he can finish his sentence, both of you seeming to realize what has captured your son’s attention at the same time. You shove the baby into Joon’s arms and dart down the beach, toward Moon-soo, ignoring stares in your direction, as you yell out, “Kim Moon-soo! You put that down this instant!”

Your son looks up at your impassioned cry, holding the dead fish higher, which you now can clearly see is the rotting carcass of a tuna, as you barrel toward him, feet churning the sand. “Look mama! A fish!”

“Oh, yuck.” You take the fish from his hand as soon as you reach him, flinging the offending body out in the ocean once again, as you turn to Moon-soo, who is now watching you with wide eyes. “Moon-soo, honey, please don’t pick up dead things. And that doesn’t just apply to the beach, let’s make that a rule for everywhere, okay?”

His lower lip quivers, and tears fill his eyes, catching you off guard, as he looks out into the ocean and the fish’s final resting place, before saying with a tremble in his voice, “But daddy says all animals are our friends. And that fish....” He chokes on his words, eyes spilling over with tears as he begins to sob, shoving fists into his eyes, each new word punctuated with a wailing sob. “THAT FISH WAS MY FRIEND!”

“Shit.” You swear under your breath, glancing over your shoulder to where Joon still lies under the umbrella with Hana, silently cursing his soft nature and the fact that his son is just like him. Sighing, you kneel down in front of the still upset Moon-soo, and removing his hands from his eyes, you offer him a gentle smile, as you gather him into your arms for a hug. “I’m sorry, Moonie. And daddy’s right, animals are our friends. Just not the dead ones.”

Your son sniffles in your arms, gaze still pulled out past the waves. “So I should only be friends with animals that are alive?”

“Preferrably.” You say, relieved that he seems to be settling down, as you bury your nose in his dark hair, soft and windblown, before kissing his head. “And if you have to be friends with the dead ones, at least just look, and don’t touch, okay?”

He nods against you, pulling back to wipe a forearm across his nose, dimples once again appearing with his smile. “Okay, mama. I won’t touch the dead squirrel in the backyard anymore. I’ll only look.”

Your mouth drops open in shock at his words, but he is already skipping away, back to play in the waves, as you push yourself to your feet after another breathless moment, calling out warningly to your husband as you head in his direction, “Kim Namjoon........”

PARK JIMIN

You breathe through another mild contraction, leaning on the edge of the bed, and when the pressure lets up, you straighten, blowing hair from your gaze, as your eyes meet your husband’s and he asks, “Still doing okay, jagi?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You force a harsh breath out through your nose, as you place your palms against the small of your back, stretching out the tight muscles there. “They’re definitely getting more intense though. I’m glad we’re almost done setting up the pool.”

Your midwife looks up from where she is knelt on the floor of the bedroom, monitoring the temperature of the water that is entering the large, blow up pool from your bathtub, and offers you a smile, eyes twinkling, as she asks, “Did you throw up this morning, (Y/N)?”

You grimace at the memory, nose crinkling with displeasure as Jimin laughs at the annoyance in your answer. “You know it, Song. Like clockwork after getting out of bed.” You groan slightly, bending over the bed and catching your breath as the beginnings of another contraction start, although they are not quite strong enough to stop your words, as you huff out, “I have thrown up every damn day with this kid.”

You wince, the contraction peaking, and Jimin rubs his hands across your lower back, applying helpful pressure there, as he murmurs soothingly into your ear, “Breathe, baby.”

“Shit.” You grumble out, as the contraction backs off, and you shoot a pleading look over your shoulder at Jimin. “Please just get this kid out of me, Park.”

“Okay, baby.” He chuckles, taking you by the arm and leading you gently over to the partially full pool. At your midwife’s nod, he helps you ease over the side and down into the water, the lukewarm liquid instantly soothing your aching muscles.

You sigh, settling down into the water as you wait for the next contraction, and at that moment, your two year old daughter barrels into the room, holding her favorite stuffy clenched tightly in her arms, but she stops at the sight of you in the pool, eyes going wide. “Mommy swimming?”

You open your mouth to answer her, but another contraction begins, and with your midwife’s calm and quiet coaxing, you lean your head back on the lip of the rubber pool, breathing heavily through your mouth as you work through the wave of pain.

After you have sunk back, already exhausted, you offer Yun Hee a smile, where she watches you carefully from within Jimin’s arms, and say breathlessly, “Hi, baby girl.”

“Mommy swimming?” Yun Hee parrots, eyes watching you closely, as you adjust your position in the water.

“Yeah, mommy’s swimming.” Jimin replies quietly, pressing a kiss to the toddler’s dark head of hair. “Mommy’s in the pool so she can have baby sister.”

“Me too?” Yun Hee wiggles in her father’s arms, and when he releases her, she crosses the room to you, leaning over the edge of the pool to dip chubby fingers into the warm water. “Unnie swim too?” She asks, making you smile.

“Baby girl.” Jimin kneels down beside his daughter, brushing black bangs from her eyes, as she watches you quizzically, your breathing harder and fingers scrabbling at the edge of the pool for hold as you fight another contraction. “Only mommy can swim right now.”

Once the contraction leaves, you find yourself more out of breath than before, your entire body aching, and screwing your eyes shut to rest, for just a moment, you reach out blindly, searching for Jimin’s hand. When his fingers intertwine with your own, you open your eyes, and giving him a knowing glance, you manage to breathe out, “I need you to get in. Please.”

He nods, and as if on cue, his mother appears in the doorway, beckoning to Yun Hee as her father pulls his t-shirt over his head, readying himself to enter the pool with you. “Yun Hee, darling, come with grandma until baby sister is here, okay?”

“No!” Yun Hee yells, clinging to her father’s legs, as he straddles the edge of the pool, one foot in the warm water, and one still out, helpless in his suddenly upset toddler’s grasp. “Unnie swim with daddy and mommy!”

“Yun Hee.” You groan out beneath your breath, as another contraction bites off your words, and Jimin’s hands are on your shoulders, rubbing aimless circles on your skin to soothe you.

Coming out of the contraction, you realize, once again able to focus, that your daughter is crying, pulling against her grandmother, who is trying to convince her, soothingly, to leave the room, just for a little while, and you shoot a helpless look at Jimin, who shrugs slightly in return.

Sighing, you glance at your midwife, who offers you a kind smile, before saying softly, “You still have a ways to go. She can get in if you’d like. Just for a bit, or until the contractions get too unbearable.”

You ponder her words, and then calling Jimin’s mother over, you reach out for Yun Hee, pulling her down and pressing a kiss to her plump, wet cheek, as you stroke back her hair, her wails quieting in your grip, before you say, “Do you want to swim with mommy and daddy and baby sister, Yun Hee? Just for a bit?”

“Yes!” Her eyes brighten and she claps her hands in delight, and you can’t help but laugh, although the sound is cut short as another contraction mounts, and with a moan, you bury your face in Jimin’s chest and breathe through the pain, praying that you won’t have to ‘swim’ for long before Yun Hee’s baby sister makes her appearance.

KIM TAEHYUNG

“Mom, what’s this?”

You look up from folding laundry, sitting cross legged on the living room floor, at your daughter’s question and a smile lights up your face when you see what she holds in her hand, curiosity in her eyes.

“Ah, I didn’t know we still had that!” Taehyung speaks up from his place on the couch, where he is surrounded by cue cards and maps, learning the places and set list for his next show.

“Of course we do!” You respond, swatting over your shoulder at him teasingly, as you hold out hand to Ara for the item in question. “Did you really think I’d get rid of it?”

“But what is it?” Ara questions again, her voice slightly annoyed at you and her father’s inside information, as she presses the object into your outstretched palm with of a huff of air.

You turn the wooden utensil over and over in your hands, overcome with memories, as you respond fondly, “This, Ara, is Spoonie.”

“Spoonie?” Ara’s voice is filled with disbelief, and her eyes are skeptical, as she watches you play with the wooden spoon before handing it over your shoulder to her father.

“Spoonie.” Taehyung reiterates, eyes bright with mischief, as he sets aside his papers and twirls the spoon between his fingers. “This, Ara, is a very special wooden spoon.”

“Okkkay.” Your daughter drawls the word out, not convinced, as her brow furrows. “But why was it in my room?”

“You really don’t remember Spoonie?” You ask in astonishment, meeting Taehyung’s surprised gaze as the spoon stills in his fingers. “You never let that spoon out of your grasp when you were little.”

“Odd choice for a lovey, but we just went along with it.” Taehyung says, reclining on the couch, as one of his arms loops down around your neck and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ara sniffs, a slight flush of embarrassment lighting up her prepubescent cheeks.

“Oh, well, then.” Taehyung says, a smile clear in his tone, as he flips the spoon end over end in his hands, shooting you a knowing glance before he addresses your daughter once again. “Let me just jog your memory. Sit down, princess.” He waits, and when Ara has reluctantly settled onto the couch at his feet, he closes his eyes and begins. “Let me tell you the story of the Great Spoon Debacle of 2013.”

7 Years Earlier.....

“Jagi, why does our kid have a wooden spoon?”

You glance up from making the bed, as Taehyung appears in the doorway to your room, a three year old Ara held easily in one arm, a large wooden spoon clenched in her chubby fist as your husband shoots you a curious, slightly amused look.

You shrug slightly, moving to the other side of the large bed before answering. “I gave it to her a couple of days ago to keep her occupied while I made dinner, and now she won’t put it down.”

“Hmmm.” Taehyung humms in thought, staring down at the little girl in his arms, as she waves her spoon in her father’s face. “Well, obviously this spoon is now an honorary member of the Kim family. What’s your spoon’s name, princess?” Taehyung asks his daughter, a large, boxy grin lighting up his features as he reaches out with a finger to boop the end of her nose.

She giggles and then exclaims brightly, clear as day in her childlike voice, “Spoonie!”

“Spoonie?” You ask, humor in your tone, as you finish up the bed, crossing the room to press kisses to your daughter’s cheeks as she laughs and squirms in her father’s arms. “Spoonie it is then. Let’s get you and Spoonie to bed then, little Kim.”

The next few days are the same, Ara toting her wooden spoon along wherever she goes, and you and Taehyung have decided just to roll with it, it’s certainly just a phase, until one morning, when Spoonie is missing and chaos ensues.

“Did you check under her bed?” You ask Taehyung frantically, as he darts past you to look through all of the kitchen drawers once again, throwing stuffed animals from their bins in a vain hope that you will find the missing spoon at the bottom.

“Twice.” Taehyung says, and his tone matches yours, weary and panicked, as the sound of your daughter’s wails from the front room grow louder.

“Spoonie, Spoonie, Spoonie!” She is sob chanting, face red and fists balled, as she throws herself on the floor and kicks her legs. You are sure your downstairs neighbors are not appreciating the loss of said spoon right now either.

“Okay, seriously.” You say, meeting up with your husband once again in the hallway, both breathless, as you rub a hand across your eyes. “It’s a spoon. It couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Maybe it ran away with the dish?” Taehyung manages to joke, and you shoot him a weary glare as the sounds of your daughter, still throwing a tantrum, echo from the other room. “Sorry.” He apologizes, grimacing slightly. “Wrong time for jokes.”

“Wait.” You hold up a hand, his words suddenly making a lightbulb go off in your head as you gasp. “Wait, wait, wait!”

Darting past an obviously confused Taehyung, you run through your bedroom and into the bathroom, wrenching open the bottom drawer as you begin to throw things out onto the tile, Taehyung’s bemused voice echoing from behind you, “What are you doing?”

“Jokes.” You say distractedly, digging through the messy catch all in search of what you’re looking for. “Jokes!” You say again, this time triumphantly, as you hold up a cardboard box for Taehyung to see that has a large, catchy slogan written across the front in bold letters, ‘JOKE’S ON YOU PERIODS. WE’RE READY FOR YOU.”

“Your tampon box?” Taehyung asks quizzically, as the tear stained, sniffling face of your daughter appears in the doorway beside him.

“Yeah, I hide stuff in here, mostly from you, because I know you won’t look in my tampon box, and Ara must have seen me do it.” You say, as you pull out the wooden spoon from the box, holding it aloft in victory. “Bingo.”

“Spoonie!” Ara cries, toddling forward and ripping the beloved spoon from your grasp.

You grin, standing up and brushing off your pants, as you watch your daughter leave the room, now completely happy and content that she has her odd lovey back in her possession.

Glancing over, you see Taehyung leaning against the door frame, watching you with a curious look in his eye. “What?” You question, stuffing the box back into the drawer.

“You hide stuff from me in your tampon box?” He smirks, one brow raised at the look of panic that suddenly crosses your features at his questioning. “What do you put in there?”

“Damn, did you hear that? I think Spoonie’s calling for me.” You say, edging past him and leaving the bathroom as quickly as possible as he laughs behind you.

JEON JUNGKOOK

“What’s going on in here?” Jungkook’s voice is clearly filled with amusement, as he appears in the doorway of your son’s room to see you stretched out, face down on the floor, as Daeseok happily plays with his trains nearby.

“your son is insisting he wears his Cookie outfit to family pictures.” You respond, voice muffled and full of defeat, as you blindly wave your hand in the direction of your son.

“Cookie!” Daeseok’s bright voice repeats loudly, as he drops the train he is holding in order to clap his hands as he grins at his father.

“See?” You whine, finally rolling to your back so you can look at Jungkook, still standing in the doorway, watching the two of you with bemusement as he finishes tying his tie around his neck. “he won’t take it off.”

Daeseok, having returned to his trains, is clothed head to toe in his father’s BT21 character, the pink, soft rabbit suit covering his body completely, as the long, lopsided ears flop about his heads with his movements, dark bangs falling into his eyes.

It is a cute look, and normally, you are more than happy to let you son’s obsession with the pink bunny go unchecked, but today is different. Today is family pictures, and you’ll be damned if Daeseok is wearing his Cooky suit in any of the pictures you plan to hand on your wall.

“Seokie.” The little boy looks up as his father calls his name, Jungkook stepping over your lifeless body, as he crouches before his son, pushing the hood back fro mhis eyes as he says fondly, “You need to get dressed for pictures. Mommy really wants us all to look nice.”

“No.” Daeseok shakes his head, paused in playing with his trains, to glare at his father. “Cookie.” He gestures to the suit he is wearing, as if no explanation is needed.

“Here.” You say, thrusting the boy’s actual outfit into Jungkook’s hands as you sit up, sliding to lean your back against the wall. “This is your battle now. I’m tapping you in.”

“Oh, is that how this works?” Jungkook asks teasingly, as he shoots you a look, dark eyes shining beneath neatly slicked back brown hair. “We’re a tag team here?”

You shrug, glancing over at a still uncooperative Daeseok. “You gave him your inane stubbornness. I should honestly make you deal with him more often.”

“Seokie.” Jungkook addresses his son again, after sticking his tongue out in your direction. He holds out the slacks and button up shirt toward the boy, who watches him warily from beneath pink fuzz. “Come on, son, let’s make mommy happy and put on your clothes, all right?”

“No, daddy!” Daeseok yells, standing up, fists balled at his sides, face dark with a glare as he berates his father. “Cookie!” He plucks at the pink material covering his chest agitatedly.

“Yeah, I know, buddy.” Jungkook sighs, shooting you a helpless look over his shoulder, to which you shrug again. “But you can wear Cookie again when we get home. Let’s put these clothes on for now...”

“No!” Daeseok repeats again, louder this time, as he runs into his closet, hiding from his father, glittering eyes peeking out from the darkness. “No, no, no!”

“Jagi....” Jungkook complains, hand held listlessly at his side, as he looks to you for help. “Come on, I’m dying here.”

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up from the floor, holding out a hand for the clothes with exasperation. “But you have to hold him down.”

“Tag team.” Jungkook nods with determination, already headed towrd the closet.

“Tag team.” You say wearily, as Daeseok is pulled from the closet by his father, already screaming and kicking.

You manage to get one arm and a leg out of the Cookie suit before you give up, releasing a wriggling and rolling Daeseok from your hold, and as he darts back into the safety of the closet, both Jungkook and you gasping to catch your breath from the fight with the determined toddler, you throw your hands up in the air.

“Fine. I give up!” You scowl, pushing yourself up as you head toward the door of the room, calling over your shoulder heatedly, “Let him wear the Cookie suit! And in a couple of years, when people ask why there’s a bunny in our family pictures, instead of our son, I’ll tell them that the battle just wasn’t worth it!”

You disappear, muttering under your breath about ‘that damn bunny suit’ and the sound of the bedroom door slams, before Daeseok emerges carefully from the closet, full clothed once again, as his father shoots him a sly grin.

“I like the bunny suit, buddy. But don’t ever tell mom I said that.”

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lunatens · 5 years

Text

basic

word count: 1655

genre: fluff

pairing: kim jungwoo x reader

Prompt: “there’s a leaf in your hair”

summary: you and best friend!jungwoo dedicate one day each autumn to being as basic as physically possible (think PSLs, pumpkin patch photo shoots, haunted hayrides, etc), and this year’s basic day will be one you’ll never forget.

(author’s note: i’m not trying to be offensive at ALL in the term basic, i do most if not all of these things myself!)

you wake up to your best friend, jungwoo, softly shaking you and whispering your name.

“let’s go y/n, we’ve got a lot to do today!! we have to get started!” he loudly whispers. you can tell he’s trying to be quiet, but his excitement is getting the best of him. he reminds you of a cute little puppy, you think to yourself. jungwoo is already dressed in traditional Basic style (a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned flannel overtop, dark wash blue jeans, and a pair of Timberlands boots) and his makeshift bed on your floor is already made up.

“i’ll go make us some breakfast while you get up and get dressed, okay?” he asks, ruffling your hair before heading to your kitchen, closing your bedroom door on his way out.

you pull on your matching flannel, some leggings, and your pair of cute brown boots. you decide to add a toque to your look to spice things up a bit this year. as you lean towards the mirror to do some light makeup and fix your hair, the delicious scent of whatever jungwoo is cooking fills your nostrils as you inhale. your tummy rumbles and you realize you’re actually really hungry, so you quickly finish getting ready and head out to the kitchen. you’re greeted with a plate stacked high with pancakes, and jungwoo places a bottle of maple syrup on the table.

“hurry, eat them while they’re still warm y/n! i hope you like them.” jungwoo says, passing you a plate and cutlery.

“jungwoo, i always like your pancakes you silly goose,” you reply. you wait for him to sit down with you before you dig in--as always, jungwoo’s classic pancake recipe never fails to disappoint.

“to year 3 of being basic!” you raise a toast with your orange juice and jungwoo smiles (mouth full of pancakes) as he clinks your glass with his. you finish eating relatively quickly, and you check the weather one more time (“don’t worry y/n, it says it’s supposed to be sunny and cool-but-not-too-cool just like it said 20 minutes ago,”) before grabbing your stuff to leave. you’re heading out the front door when you hear jungwoo’s frantic “wait!” and something is quickly wrapped around your neck from behind, causing you to cough.

“oops--sorry, y/n. i got us matching scarfs for today, happy basic day!” jungwoo says proudly.

“thanks, bub, they’re cute--although they would've been cuter if you didn’t almost choke me,” you say, teasing him. inside, you’re melting at the sweet gesture--these past few months you’ve found yourself slowly catching feelings for your best friend, and as much as you try to pretend he’s just a friend to you, you can’t help but daydream of playing with his hair as his soft lips kiss yours. you push the thought away--you don’t want to ruin today and accidentally make things awkward between the two of you. you slide into your car and begin the half-hour drive into the country to the fun farm (of course, you each pick up a pumpkin spice latte on the way). you spend the ride lazily chatting and listening to some soft acoustic songs (jungwoo plays “sweet creature” by harry styles first, saying the song is dedicated to you, and maybe your heart skips a beat).

before you know it, you’re pulling into the gates of the farm--you reach out the window to pay the small entrance fee and turn to park in the field to the left of the entrance. as soon as you step out of the car, your senses are overwhelmed with Fall; the air is cool and crisp, yet the sun is warm on your skin, children dart in and out of the corn maze, a dog barking and chasing them, animals from the small petting zoo make their various noises--it’s perfect. jungwoo grabs a wagon and grabs your arm and tugs you (stupidly giggling, of course) towards the pumpkin patch. you and jungwoo have a race to see who can find the biggest, fattest pumpkin--you win, but you have to work together to lift the pumpkin into your wagon because it’s so heavy. after that you each pick a relatively normal-sized pumpkin to carve later, then you pay for your pumpkins and haul them to the car.

“okay, next on the list is apple picking!” jungwoo comments, pulling out his phone to check pumpkin picking off of the list you made together. you grab a basket and head to the back of the apple orchards, following the advice of an old lady who works at the farm--”there’s far more apples at the back, pumpkins, and far fewer people to disturb your apple picking,” she says with a wink. you smile and thank her, trying to squash the excitement building up inside you at her comment as jungwoo takes your arm in his to lead you into the orchard.

the old lady was right--you and jungwoo didn’t see a single person once you made it to the end of the orchard. the edge of the nearby forest was pressed up against the end of the rows of apple trees, creating a nice secluded area.

“y/n, i want that apple--the one all the way up there,” jungwoo says with a grin, pointing to a plump, bright red apple near the top of the tree.

“jungwoo, i’m not nearly tall enough to reach that!!” you protest.

“pretty please? for me?” he bats his eyelashes in response.

“okay, fine, but just because it’s you. you’re gonna have to help me though,” you respond with an eye roll. you try reaching on your tip toes, but as expected, the apple remains about a meter out of reach. you grasp a thick, low branch of the tree to begin to pull yourself up, and immediately you feel a pair of hands firmly around your waist. you pause for a moment, not daring to look back and let jungwoo see the furious blush on your face. you stretch up to reach the apple (jungwoo’s hand remain on your body the whole time) and you give it a sharp twist before yanking it off its branch. the force causes you to slip a little, and you come tumbling out of the tree. luckily, you weren’t very high up and jungwoo is able to break your fall. his arms wrap around you and a look of concern takes over his face.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asks worriedly. you nod in response, heart racing at the proximity of his face to yours. you’re afraid to speak, lest your words come out sounding more like squeaks. even though you said you were okay, jungwoo doesn’t let go of you, and his eyes stay on yours. you feel the heat crawling up your face, and you almost forget about the apple you still have in your right hand. jungwoo’s gaze darts to the left for a moment, and he lifts one arm up from its position around your waist.

“there’s a leaf in your hair,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. he slowly and carefully pulls the leaf away from your face, carelessly tossing it to the side where it flutters to the ground. His hand, however, makes its way back to your face, and his cold fingers gently caress your warm cheek. you shiver at his touch--you had only ever dreamed of this.

“is this too much, y/n? i don’t want to ruin our friendship,” jungwoo says, starting to pull his hand away.

“no! no, jungwoo, this is perfect,” you say, pulling his hand back to your face. you see his adam’s apple bob as he nervously swallows, and then (in perhaps your bravest moment ever) you lean in and press a short kiss to his lips. you pull back, both of you shocked at your sudden action. you try to read jungwoo’s facial expression, but you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“jungwoo, i-” he cuts you off as his lips connect with yours again, this time for longer. you smile into the kiss; his lips are soft against yours, and he feels so good close like this against you. you feel him smile in response to you, and for a moment you just stay there; foreheads pressed against each other, breathing heavily and giggling shyly.

“do you want an apple?” you say eventually, holding up the apple you’d been holding and making jungwoo giggle even more. he takes it from you, rubs it on his shirt, then hold it out for you to take a bite. you oblige--the apple is juicy and sweet, the perfect ripeness. jungwoo leans in for another kiss, this one a little more passionate than the last.

“that’s a good apple,” he says after he pulls away. you laugh and playfully hit him on the shoulder. he takes a bite of the apple, laughing with you and pulling you into his side to cuddle you.

you spend the rest of the day as planned--finishing your apple picking, roasting hot dogs and drinking apple cider, getting lost in the corn maze, nearly falling off of the haunted hayride through the woods (good thing jungwoo had such a tight grip on you), baking pies, carving pumpkins and finishing up with a scary movie (which, honestly, neither of you watched--you were both too chicken and found more entertainment in each other than in the movie) followed by a campfire and s’mores. the day was filled with the same basic fall activities as usual, but now holds an even more special place in you and jungwoo’s hearts as the day you two “finally grew a pair and got together” (in lucas’ lovely words). as you sit beside the fire with jungwoo, lazy eyes watching the warm orange flames flicker and dance over his face, you think to yourself there’s no one you’d rather be basic together with.

#nct scenarios #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #text #best friend!jungwoo #basic #request #nct fanfic #kpop fanfic #autumn #low key...this is real cute omg #tysm for the request!!#fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct u

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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 5 years

Text

김재현, Kim Jaehyun

anonymous asked:

Hello can I request a masquerade party themed scenario with NFLYING’s Jaehyun “ your eyes stole all my words away “ I’ll leave the rest to you xD it would be nice if it involves description of the outfits , the place , the dance ... etc

Group: N.Flying (엔플라잉)

Member: Jaehyun

Your heels clicked across the marble floor, the echo muffled by the other guests. They were everywhere, scattered all around the gold-tinted ballroom, chatting and drinking from crystal champagne flutes. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling looked like they contained thousands of diamonds, but even more importantly... A story.

This entire place was story.

Those chandeliers told the story of how they’d hung there for over ninety years, always being of service to illuminate a ball. The floors told the story of how numerous pairs of feet had glided across them in rhythmic harmony. The small stage in the back told the story of the many musicians that had played music there over the years, including tonight.

“The Second Waltz,” you hummed to yourself, hearing the short but distinctive introduction. “Dmitri Shostakovich.” A smile spread across your lips, painted a down-toned red. It was less of bold statement, more of a gentle accent. “Good choice.”

You walked forward, your dress—a red silk that reached farther in the back than the front—billowing behind you in a pool, rippling like water that’d been ever-so-lightly disturbed. Your shoes—strappy and black with expertly placed rose accents—clicked along to your gait, a quiet tap-tap-tap.

The dress was strapless, revealing your clavicle and shoulders to everyone. On a normal occasion, you wouldn’t wear something like that, but here you were... Unknown and draped in wonders. You wouldn’t remain unknown forever, but just for the time being, it was nice to be like this.

It was nice to mysterious and beautiful.

It was nice to be covered with flowing red and elbow-high white lace gloves. It was nice to be hidden by a mask of impressive butterfly wings and it was nice to be showcasing the rubies hanging on your ears and around your neck.

You felt like someone who could turn heads, but without anyone knowing who you were. You were noticed purely for your intrigue.

You heard footsteps behind you.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” you heard.

You turned in a single smooth motion, the loose parts of your intricately twined hair tickling you cheeks. “Yes?” you said, giving the man behind you a once-over. The music changed to Johann Strauss’s ‘The Vienna Blood Waltz’, seemingly perfect background music for the look of the man.

Judging by the bright smile he was wearing, he was probably a little playful. Maybe a little mischievous. But there was something else there, too. An elegance. Maybe it was his long arms and legs, or maybe it was the quality of his suit.

He wore a long dark coat that reached the back of his knees, shrouded in gold and silver embroidery. Underneath, there was a simple white dress-shirt and a pair of slacks, tucked into knee-high boots. His hands were hidden by smooth dark blue gloves, having a bit of a sheen to them in the low-light of the ballroom.

Although, you would argue that the best part of the whole thing was his mask. Most men would be afraid to have something lace on their face—afraid of endangering their masculinity—but he seemed more secure than that, a multicolored flare brought to the whole thing.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the mask itself. The highlight was his eyes.

Yes... His eyes were what changed the quality of his appearance. Not his suit, you decided. There was something inside of them. An adventure, a promise, innocent fascination and a childish wonder.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Not really,” he said. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’.”

You chuckled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, sir, you have.”

“I guess I have,” he said. “I should find more excuses to talk to you.”

You laughed at the statement. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Not at all, miss. What brings you to this charity ball?” he asked.

You gave him a coyly cryptic look. “Charity,” you said simply. “Isn’t that what we’re all here for?”

There was a spark in his gaze, like he sensed your challenge. He was fully willing to accept it; willing to play your game. “Yes, I suppose we are.” Without much thought, you both made your way across the ballroom, walking side-by-side while still retaining a respectful distance.

The song changed once more. This time it was Eugan Doga’s Gramofon.

The mystery man stopped walking and held out his hand. “Dance with me?” he questioned.

Wordlessly, and with a small smile on your lips, you accepted. You took that hand, covered so curiously in rich fabric.

When you made it the center of the room, illuminated directly by the light from the largest crystal chandelier, that’s when you began. Your left hand went to rest on his shoulder, your right hand staying in his. His hand went to your waist, holding gentle, yet firm.

He took a step forward, you took a step back. A perfect carousel-like harmony, gliding across the marble with a simple one-two-three, one-two-three, hitting the down beats with a certain amount of stylish gusto.

The other dancers around you faded away. In this moment, this waltz was the only thing that mattered. Even if it made you uneasy, afraid to mess up, you still felt like this moment was something to cherish, though you didn’t know why. Maybe it was the thrill of mingling with a stranger.

“I hear there are supposed to be a lot of celebrities at this event,” the man said. “Would I know you?” he asked as he spun you under his arm.

“Do you watch the news often?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I try not to,” he chuckled.

“Then, no,” you said, “you wouldn’t know me.” You ended your turn a little closer to him than you had been before, sending a shiver down your spine. “Would I know you?” you asked. “Your eyes look familiar.”

“Do you listen to a lot of rock music?”

You tried to silence a snort. “No, not particularly.”

“Then, no,” he said, playfully mimicking your tone, “you wouldn’t know me.”

There was a short period of time where you just danced, a smooth melding of timing and tasteful style. One-two-three, hold forward. One-two-three, hold back. Hold to the side, hold to the side, fifth position breaks, full box and then turn.

You felt like you were flying, never having to worry about stepping on his feet or messing up the moves. He was a strong leader, and (as all leaders in a dance should be) his first priority was making you look amazing. Even spin, your dress flared behind you in the most beautiful way. Every hold was filled with expectation rather than dead space. Every time his hand brushed closer to you, he pulled it respectfully back to it’s rightful place.

It wasn’t a boring dance at all, but you decided that it wasn’t enough. You wanted to keep talking. His voice had grown on you in such a short time. Or maybe it wasn’t that it had grown on you, but more so that you hadn’t heard it enough and you craved more.

“What do you think of the ball so far?” you asked.

He hummed a thoughtfully. “A little pretentious, maybe?”

“Pretentious?” you echoed. “Why do you say that?”

He shrugged, almost throwing your balance off. “A bunch of celebrities were invited here, right?” You nodded. “Well, celebrities don’t want to be made to feel special.” You waited patiently for the rest of his reasoning. “They want to feel normal,” he said.

“They love what they do, of course, but they also want a safe environment where they can be themselves and mingle and not care about security, fans or impending doom,” he joked. “This is fun,”—he gave you an almost shy look—”believe me, but I think thing’s would’ve gone just as well if this place had been covered in bean-bag-chairs, Nintendo Switches and chip dip.”

You nodded slowly, taking a little time to process. “That makes sense, I suppose,” you said. Without realizing, he spun you one last time as the song came to an end. You looked around, slightly dazed. “It’s... over?” you asked.

He laughed. “Yeah, it is!” He didn’t let go of your hand. “But if you want, we can still talk.”

You nodded, trying to keep yourself calm. But on the inside, you were truly bursting. “That sounds good,” you said softly. Gently you pulled your hand away from his. Though you would’ve liked to keep holding it, you felt creepy for thinking that.

With your footsteps in sync, you walked back to the side of the room, blending in like beautiful, shadowy wallflowers. It was a nice hideaway of quietness.

You talked with each other for a a solid hour and a half, exchanging everything from playful banter to serious discussion and then whether the books or movies were better for Harry Potter.

“So, in conclusion,” you said, “I think Ron Weasley was much better represented in the books.” You crossed your arms, sure you had made your point. You waited for a reply, but it didn’t come. You looked up at him, only to see him staring you, his chin resting delicately in his palm. You chuckled nervously. “Why did you stop talking?”

He blinked, tearing his gaze away from you with a nervous clear of the throat. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “Your eyes stole all my words away, I guess.”

You smiled. “You know—” You were cut off by the screeching static of a microphone being adjusted. The music slowly died off, drawing everyone’s attention to a podium near the central area.

A man—a little boring and mousy looking, especially under his plain white mask—stood there, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. He ran a hand through his close-cut salt-and-pepper hair before clearing his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I would like to start this out by thanking you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to come to the 52nd Annual Seoul Historical Foundation Fundraiser.”

He took a nervous sip of water from his bottle off to the side. “We’ve relied on people like you for support for years now, and the fact that you still continue to come is beyond humbling.” Finally, he took a deep breath, seeming to calm down a little. “And now, a word from our chairman!” he said, stepping away from the makeshift podium with a certain amount of relief in his eyes.

You stood up, as if on cue.

“Where are you going?” the mystery man whispered to you.

You turned around, flashing him a smile. “To work,” you said. You made your way across the floor, people gaping at you as you did. You’d been talking with them and socializing all night and no one suspected or recognized you. You made your way to the podium, a pleased smile on your face.

You lightly tapped the mic, making sure it was still in working condition. “Now that I know you can all hear me,” you said, “it’s a pleasure to fully and finally meet you!” You saw the mystery man’s jaw drop and you had to hold in a chuckle. “I’m the new chairmen of the Historical Foundation, if case you didn’t gather. I took over from my father just this year, due to his age. But it seems the first event that I’ve prepared is more than a little...” You smirked a little. “Pretentious,” you said.

You saw the mystery man cover his face in embarrassment. He couldn’t believe he’d said that directly to the chairman and organizer of the event.

“I’m sorry for that,” you said earnestly. “Someone here tonight brought that to my attention, and I’m grateful for his input. I hope this doesn’t deter you from helping us save beautiful buildings like this,” you said, gesturing to the great hall, “and I hope that—even though I’m clumsy and unsure and new to all of this—that you’ll give me a chance to do better next year.”

You could feel all the eyes on you, but you didn’t feel nervous. You were finally known... But you would be known for something good.

“Thank you, and have a wonderful rest of your evening. Donations will be taken up until midnight.” You gave a short bow before applause hit your ears. It shocked you a little, but you tried to play it cool, giving a polite smile and walking off the podium.

You could see the mystery man watching you as you stepped off, an appreciative smile on his face, still clapping for you with the most fervor out of everyone.

“Hey, Hyeong-seok,” you said, calling over the mousy man with the salt-and-pepper hair.

He scrambled over with a clipboard, his handkerchief stick messily out of his breast pocket. “Yes, ma’am?” he said.

“Who’s that man over there?” you asked, gesturing to your mystery dance partner.

He examined him before giving his clipboard a once-over. “That would be...” He snapped his fingers. “Ah! Kim Jaehyun!” he said. “He’s a drummer from a rock and roll band under FNC Entertainment.”

You smiled. Suddenly, lots of things made sense. “I like him,” you said simply.

“What, miss?”

You shrugged. “I like him.”

I don’t know about you guys... but I kinda need Jaehyun in that fit I described. Just lowkey. Or I could draw it. I’d be good with that, too.

Anyway, thanks for the request, Anon! It was really beautiful and intricate to write. I hope you enjoyed it a lot, and I hope it met expectations. Or maybe... Exceeded them? We shall see.

Feel free to stop by again!

#n.flying #n.flying jaehyun #kim jaehyun #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop angst #masqurade #for anon

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jjkpls · 5 years

Text

The Seeker (Harry Potter!AU #5) (PG15)

> genre : angst, fluff

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 1.8k

> warning : depression, language, mention of sexual intercourse

> Kim Namjoon (Gryffindor, 7th yr) has always been a largely appreciated prodig. But lately, he is haunted by a sort of illusory obsession. (there is not much to this it’s more like a prompt i’ve never got around to develop, i was in a weird mood, angst, fluff)

/The Harry Potter!AU Masterlist/

Namjoon is sitting at the desk he always occupies during his free time. His elbows dig hard on the wood, hands holding his head by the temples with effort. It's past 11 pm and that well-furnished head of his weighs too much for his neck to carry alone. It seems the latter is not carrying any of it anymore as you watch his eyelids, fluttering behind his thick glasses in a threatening slow pace. He is about to slump, face first, on the surface of the hard table, you can tell.

“Hey, Namjoon-ah.”

He jumps in fright, a loud thud echoing in the room as his knee bump hard against the table. You wince slightly, biting back an amused smile when he massages the painful spot with a grimace.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“Didn't mean too.”

He shoots one of his dimples your way. The smile doesn't reach his eyes though and you hurt when you realize it. Those eyes are not what they used to be. Soft, and warm, and mischievous, they are now dark and severe. He carries the gaze of a mature man that would have been eaten alive by his own secrets. You're not hopeless that one day, the dead stare would show an unexpected glint of the light it used to hold. That's why, as you take a seat in front of him, you smile brightly at him, ignoring the uncomfortable squeeze of your heart.

He is back at his work again. His large hands, free from holding the temporarily reenergized head, are fidgeting around trying to make sense and order of all the papers, parchments and books laid messily on the table. In the process, a dozen of loose papers go flying in the air but you're quick to catch them and place them back on the table in an ordered pile without missing a glimpse of the inscriptions and annotations covering them.

“Have you made any new discovery ?”

“There's this thing I found in...” His long arms swing wildly around, the big ring adorning his left hand missing by a mere centimetre your eye, then reach for a heavy-looking leatherbound book he holds in front of your nose. “This thing. It's a journal though. Written by a dude that... well, just look.” In a swift motion, he's haphazardly opened the book, holding it up for you to peek at the unconventional and bizarre writing scattered, between creepy doodles, on the yellow pages. Over the book, you peer at his expression. Eyes trying to reach for his eyebrows lifted high on his forehead, cheeks puffed in utter annoyance. “The dude was batshit crazy.”

You pick up the book to flip curiously through the pages as Namjoon goes on about what he suspects the author was on, spreading out his unnecessarily extended knowledge on magical drugs in the process. When you struggle to separate two pages stuck together by a weird, slimy material, he finally is back on Earth and calls for your name, a new shade covering the annoyed edge his voice took moments ago.

“The thing is he mentioned something in one of his daily entries and I know it might be bullshit but after reading the entirety of it, I did feel like maybe-” He is stumbling over his words now, eyes staring at his slightly trembling fingers.

“What is it ?” You press gently, a soft hand placing itself on his.

“There's this moment when he tells of a visit to a lost village in Russia and he says that, there, a poor family allowed him to spend the night during a snow tempest. And -that's so weird because he doesn't even extend on that, he just fucking mentions it once like that's normal- he says that the parents were a loving couple composed of a wizard and a dementor. And they had children! A little girl and a baby. Can you believe it ?”

You remain silent, feeling too coward to utter a word. You're brave enough to hold his wide eyes though, even when the brief ray of excitement wavers slowly to faint into definite darkness. He smiles humourlessly.

“I mean, obviously I don't...” He mumbles, exhaling hard before pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, ready to dip back in his lectures.

“Joon, it's okay. Maybe this is the hint of a beginning.” You cringe at your own voice. You're overwhelmed with love and affection and tenderness for this tall lanky sad guy but you suck at expressing it. You wish you were better because as you see the shaking of his fingers getting stronger, and your heart cries in pain, you can't imagine how bad it must be on him.

“Or more like an umpteenth disillusionment.” He says simply, tone low and composed, being back to his usual collected smart prefect role.

“Namjoon-ah.” You have to call him a few more times for him to finally look back to meet your concerned eyes. And the role, for the first time in a long time, sways and flickers until the corners of his eyes redden and they start filling up with tears. He bites on his lip, looking down in shame. Your heart, dying in your bosom, doesn't matter anymore as you raise in a panic over the table to awkwardly wrap your arms around him.

It takes longer than ever for him to calm down. When he seems to be feeling better, blowing his nose in the dirty tissue he always keeps in his robe, you can't help but observe him with growing anxiety. You can't help but wonder how long it will take for him to not be able to get back from those little outbursts of his heart. You wouldn't tell him, because he doesn't need to hear it and is not ready to hear it, but you don't believe he'll ever find an answer. Simply because there is no answer. No matter how smart and ingenious and prodigious of a wizard he's always been, smarter, more ingenious and remarkable and wiser grandiose wizards have been there before him. It's a helpless cause he is pursuing for reasons he's never unbosomed to you. Dementors are not sick and therefore can't be cured. Once they're gone, there is no coming back from that darkness, that foulness that, not only inhabit them but have become the real essence of their very nature. But for some reasons -those hidden secrets he's never confessed to you nor anyone else- he wants to believe that there is a way and wouldn't stop looking for it.

“I'm sorry I'm not of any use to you.”

“You're my old friend.” His voice is hoarse from crying, and probably from how far he dragged those hearty words from and your whole inside warms up. Then he is smiling, genuinely, with the two deep dimples of his cheeks winking with total heartfelt disclosure and you allow some hope to fill you up.

You two are too engrossed in your moment to notice the obnoxious interruption of a tall, excited Hufflepuff. It's Jung Hoseok, one of Namjoon's past closest friends. They've never really broken up but it's true that, since Namjoon's mind has been preoccupied with all those serious issues, you know it not to be so easy on him to spend time with them when he knows they won't understand. Jung Hoseok's mind is where it has always been though. Therefore without taking notice of the small hand of yours warming intimately the cheek of his friend or even the red tip of the Namjoon's nose, he starts,

“Namjoon! I've been looking for your ass everywhere, what are you even- Doesn't matter. Super important: do you remember that spell from two years back ?”

The prefect face decomposes right there and then. Your attention doesn't miss the abrupt change. You have no idea why and stare in confusion.

“No, I don't. I'll see you later.” He tries to dismiss but Hoseok, known for his persistence, stands firmly his ground.

“I didn't even say which one! Listen, the one to fuck in public-”

You gasp, staring at Namjoon's previously pale as death complexion turning a deep red. He prompts Hoseok to leave, even tries to kick him -ends up hurting his own elbow- but the other guy doesn't care the least. “You know, the one that turns you invisible and gets those clones- wait, not clones, I mean hollogams or whatever, to replace us! You know the one? What is it ?” He asks again, pressing him by taping on his shoulder like an impatient kid.

“Fuck off, Jung! I don't fucking know!”

Hoseok obverses him quietly, for the longest time, a nasty and ominous scowl on his face before storming out, muttering something about him being a selfish prick.

When the tension has diffused a bit, after his departure, you allow a chuckle, quickly followed by a throng of other ones to burst out.

“I'm so- Honestly, two years ago, I- I mean, I don't do this anymore.”

“What? You really used to have sex in public?” You stare at him with the widest eyes and he is quick to deny with his whole body, shaking his hands widely in the air.

“NO! No, no, no. I- I mean we were young and stupid and real curious horn dogs but-”

“I'm just kidding. You do you, Namjoon. As long as I'm not in the room.”

“I don't do this and I've never had, I promise.” Namjoon sighs deeply, pressing his fingers against his tired eyelids, bumping his glasses in the way. “This dude is sick! I grew out of it, right? It was two fucking years ago! But he- he is still- what a-”

“I would have never imagined this evening to end like that.” He is staring at you with a pitiful, desperate eye but you can't contain your laugh no matter how hard you try. He decides to just give up and starts packing his things, cursing at Hoseok between tightly closed teeth. You two don't really talk until you reach the dorms, you, too busy giggling in the neck of your robe and he, lost in unpenetrable thoughts. It's when you wave goodnight to him, ready to climb up the stairs that the cat seems to lend him back his tongue.

“Thanks again for tonight.”

“No problem, Namjoon.”

“For always, actually.”

You smile at him from above and wave again before leaving for your bed, head fuzzy with the strange, complexed peaceful comfort Namjoon always brings you.

#namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #namjoon drabble #bts drabble #bts scenario #namjoon scenario #rm #My writing

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heirhooked · 5 years

Note

I'm mobile but the scar meme

he doesn’t think much of it when he pulls his shirt off, falling onto his stomach to sink down into silk sheets after a tiring practice. sweatpants hangs low on his hips, head turned towards the wall. it’s only when he flinches at the soft touch against his skin that he realises that the lights are still on, and that this is the first time kim’s seen them.

they only serve as reminders. speaking out of turn, not being good enough, not being strong enough. times when he wasn’t fast enough moving out of the way during their sparring and his father did nothing to avoid having the blade cut into his skin. when he hadn’t lived up to the family name, becoming a first mate instead of a captain.

it’s too late to move, too late to pretend that it didn’t happen. he could only hide them for so long, shield her from the horrors of the isle that auradon likes to ignore. harry has to resist the urge to jump up, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the material beneath him in a clenched fist instead. he expects an outburst — shock, anger, disgust — and all he can do is brace himself for it. but there’s nothing.

silence. fingertips moving from his shoulder blades to the small of his back.

harry could cry.

yet, all he does is turn his head to look at her, cheek buried in the pillow, reaching out to coax her arm upwards. gently, harry takes hold of her wrist and then his hand moves to her fingers and brings them to his lips, a single kiss pressed against her knuckles. thank you.

⇝ @sheroic / scars.

#sheroic #006. 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻 '𝙴𝙼 𝙵𝙸𝚂𝙷 𝙱𝙰𝙸𝚃 ! / answered.#012. 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚂𝙰𝚈 𝙸'𝙼 𝚃𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙱𝙻𝙴 ! / auradon.#COOOOL #abuse /

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harryimaginedstories · 7 years

Text

Reminder

Hi! Hope you’re all well. :) It’s in the middle of the night and I have just reread my one shot Party Monster . It got me inspired to write this little story which I hope you will like. It isn’t a part2 but a small story about the same characters. x

Warnings: Not smut but definitely hinting on it more than once.

Listen to the song ‘Reminder’ by The Weeknd whilst reading this. x

With Harry’s arms wrapped around my waist in a tight hold, the skin of his warm and bare chest pressed to my back and his soft lips nipping and biting the skin at the back of my neck, I felt happy. Every inch of my body was tingling form our earlier activities and my head felt like it was dizzy still. I nestled my face further into the pillow supporting my neck and sighed when I relaxed further into my boyfriend’s body. A hum into my ear had the toes of my feet curl and I whimpered when his teeth grazed the base of my neck, very much aware that he would leave a visible trace on me.

“Harry.”

“Hm?”

I whined and tried to move, discovering that with his vice of a hold that was impossible.

“Want to turn over,” I complained, sounding like a child, “Want to see you.”

“But I like you like this,” Harry replied while his feet rubbed against my calfs and he moved to press himself even more against me, “You’re surprisingly comfy.”

His warm breath fanned over my bare back as he spoke, his body lowering further down until his mouth was pressed against and kissing the bottom of my spine, making me giggle and whine in his arms. His loving kisses tickled my sensitive body, bringing it back to reality after what he’d just finished doing with me. The covers around us exposed our bodies the further he moved down and I hurried to cross my arms and cover my chest. Cold air hit our skin, earning a growl from Harry in discomfort. I tried to wiggle around once more but his hands pressed flat to my stomach and stilled me, allowing him to proceed with kissing my naked skin. I loved him. I loved him so much it made me half crazy. With his lips on my skin and his lean body practically wrapped around me I couldn’t find anything to complain about.

“Surprisingly?” I asked, feigning to be offended by his words though of course he could read right through me.

Harry chuckled and I shrieked when he bit my hip. “Well, not that surprisingly I guess. Your body is perfect. ”

Blushing I shook my head and hoped my heart would stop its wild jumps in my chest.

“So cuddly,” Harry continued to compliment before raising up long enough for him to turn me flat on my back, body laying sprawled out beneath his as he hovered over me. “My cute girl. So pretty, too. And warm.”

His nose nudged my cheek as he groaned and I breathed in shakily, fingers fisting the back of his neck. The skin of my stomach shuddered when his chest grazed it as he allowed himself to lay down, keeping most of his weight off me and only burdening me with enough to let me know that he was here, with me, which was just what I needed after tonight. My eyes searched to lock with his and suddenly my throat felt very dry. The sparkling green orbs changed and Harry frowned when he observed the change in my expression.

“Baby,” he breathed, lips ghosting over my own, “what’s the matter?”

“Are Jamie and Kim going to split up?”

Jamie and Kim were two of Harry’s acquaintances, people he liked to spend time with but did not consider his friends, especially since he knew that I didn’t like either of them at all. Jamie was a funny guy, however one drink too much and he could get quite handsy. He never touched me inappropriately, Harry would have murdered him had he tried, but he liked to wrap his arm around people or rest his hand on the shoulder of the person he was slurring his stories to and that I could not stand. And Kim... well, she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and that could be exhausting after some time.

Harry sighed at my question and let his head fall to rest on my shoulder. His fingers lazily drew patterns over the skin right under my breast and I was reminded of how incredibly comfortable I felt with him. There was nothing awkward about being naked with Harry and that made my heart burst with happiness.

“Why are you asking me that?” he looked at me with confusion written all over his face.

I shrugged and gently scratched the back of his neck to soothe him. Perhaps mentioning another guy’s name whilst laying in Harry’s bed wasn’t the best idea. “He cheated on her. In front of all of us... I mean she must be-”

Devastated. But Kim’s heart wasn’t soft enough to get sad. I lowered my gaze to Harry’s chest, only looking at him again when his lips kissed my temple.

I sighed. “Surely she must be furious.”

“Very. Slapped him left and right according to Nick’s texts,” Harry shook his head and pulled me closer into him, “M’glad we left before all the drama started.”

Tonight Harry and I had gone to a club Jamie always liked to talk about, which was surprisingly fun. Harry normally never took me with him when he went out, always insisting that he rather not see me surrounded by drunken and overly confident males, but tonight we had decided to celebrate. So I’d gone out with Harry always hovering around right beside me, one of his hands touching my body at all times to keep me close and looked after. No one even dared to as much as look at me the wrong way, not with the tall man kissing and holding onto my body as if we were tied together by an invisible bond. It had been fun. He sure knew how to dance and it’d been thrilling to make out like teenagers in the middle of a dance floor, not caring at all about the people watching us with envious eyes. The fun had come to a quick end when Jamie decided to cheat on his girlfriend Kim by kissing a girl and letting her grope him as if they weren’t in public. Any other girl, me included, would have broken down in tears and been upset upon witnessing such thing, but Kim... oh no. She was ruthless when angry and so Harry had pulled me away and he’d hurried to get me home before we’d be pulled into the mess that was sure to follow Jamie’s actions.

Harry frowned upon inspecting my breast from up close, “I don’t remember leaving a hickey here.”

His finger pressed to the red skin of my left breast and I tensed, shifting and winding in his embrace.

“That hurts,” I whined, “it’s sensitive.”

Instantly his hand fell away and instead his lips pressed a soft kiss to the skin. “M’sorry, baby.”

His nose nudged and rubbed against the mark. “Looks good on you though.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

My arms wrapped around his neck and Harry intertwined our legs once more. “Why you want to talk about people’s relationship you don’t even like is beyond me. There are at least two things I would much rather talk about.”

I batted the hand travelling to my right breast away. “Because I want to hear your opinion.”

“Kim’s a pain,” he said lightly, “Can’t stand her and m’not surprised that Jamie’s got fed up with their relationship.”

“Let me sit up.”

My voice was tense and this time when I moved Harry loosened his hold and allowed me to escape his embrace. Again I crossed my arms over my breasts to shield them from his view and though Harry was confused by my sudden change in behaviour he didn’t hesitate to pick the shirt he’d worn that day up from the bottom of the bed and hand it to me. Wordlessly I slipped it on, moved away from the middle of the bed and sat by its edge.

“What did I say?” his voice asked from behind me, “S’wrong now? You don’t like her either, Y/N.”

“No, but saying that she’s a bitch and deserves to be cheated on isn’t the greatest thing to hear from one’s boyfriend, okay? You’re basically defending what Jamie did.”

“Hey now.” Harry sat up and I almost pulled away when his hand pressed flat against my back, “Don’t put words into my mouth.”

“I’m not,” I insisted, saddened by his rough words against a woman who’d just been humiliated, “You said that, Harry.”

Harry sighed and I heard the covers ruffle when he crawled over to where I was sitting. His chest pressed to my back and when his arms wrapped around my body there was nothing in me that wanted to fight him off. I whimpered when his lips pressed to the sensitive skin of my neck and just like always I was at his mercy the moment he started to kiss me there. The feeling of Harry pulling me onto his body and back into bed left my legs as weak as jelly, especially when he went to lay back down with me right on top of him.

I whined. “Harry, don’t, please. I’m mad at you and rather not be in bed with you right now.”

“I don’t think that what he did is okay,” Harry spoke into my ear, not loosening his hold for once, “M’not defending him cheating on her.”

“Let go.”

“Stop it, Y/N, you aren’t angry with me. You’re worried. And I don’t have a clue why so please just tell me what your pretty head is burdening you with so we can go to sleep.”

Harry was right, of course and I was glad he held me to him, but there was no way of telling him what was going on without making him angry.

“What’s the matter?”

“I think Jamie is the asshole. Not Kim.”

“Both of them are,” Harry agreed into my neck, “S’hard to like her company and he... is an impossible guy. Wouldn’t want to date either of them, that’s for sure. Which is why I got myself a very lovely girlfriend of my own and now why do we have to talk about this when I would so much rather have you sleep happily by my side?”

A deep sigh fell from my mouth and I could feel Harry relax under me when my hands intertwined with his, giving him a clear sign that I was no longer mad at him.

“Do you think cheating is okay?”

He groaned. “No, Y/N, I don’t.”

“Stop acting as if I’m annoying you by questioning what you just said. You’re the one who’s first reaction to Jamie cheating on Kim is telling me that she’s awful anyway.”

My body was pushed off his chest and this time when my eyes found Harry’s I saw no confusion in his gaze. Instead both of his palms settled on my hips and my cheek was kissed by his mouth noisily.

“Y/N, my love,” Harry spoke, voice sweet and gentle. One of his hands caressed my cheek and when I closed my eyes I could feel the familiarity of his lips ghosting over my closed lids, “I would never cheat on you.”

The promise was made without any kind of hesitation in his tone, like he hadn’t even for a moment considered to say anything else.

“I never needed anyone the way I do you and by this point I can’t even as much as think about being with another girl.”

“But-”

“No,” Harry shook his head. His hand grasped by chin to hold my head in place and when he kissed me I couldn’t do anything but let him distract me from my worries long enough to make any doubt go away. It didn’t take long. The pressure of his mouth was just the reassurance I needed, his familiar hands caressing my face, hair and neck and the groan falling from his throat when my own fingers fisted his hair and scratched his back let me know that just like I couldn’t want anyone else, Harry didn’t want anyone but me either. When he granted my aching lips a break I found myself smiling and breathing him in.

“Would you forgive me if I cheated on you?”

Harry’s question came out neutral and with eyes full of love I didn’t feel the dread of worry I’d felt only a moment ago.

“No,” I murmured truthfully, “I wouldn’t.”

His hand found mine and he raised it to his lips. “Good. It’s never going to become a situation where you have to make such a choice, that I promise you. But I am glad you know that no man should ever do to you what Jamie did to Kim.”

I leaned in and kissed his jaw. “I love you Harry.”

Harry chuckled and I cried out when his teeth bit my ear right after he whispered how beautiful I looked to him in this moment. I pressed my open palms against his chest, caressing his soft skin and making him disconnect his teeth from my ear with a low growl. Leaning in I nudged my nose with his jaw, pressed a kiss to his chin and embraced his neck tightly. He held me close enough for me to feel his heartbeat under his skin and with his leg intertwined with mine I was unable to escape, not that I could have ever wanted to anyway.

“I love you a lot, Y/N.”

The way he spoke the words made them sound like a promise and I was calmer than ever before. Harry was good to me, looked after me and with him I was safe. Never before had I felt this good in my life.

“You really wouldn’t ever let me down, would you?”

He shook his head and I kissed him, giving him all the promises there were to make.

I hope you like this! I have an idea and I hope you will be as excited about this as I am: One of my current fav artists is The Weeknd and I would really like to write several one shots that are related to each other by being inspired by his songs. Much like this one as well as ‘Party Monster’ they wouldn’t be about the things he’s singing about, but influenced by the mood he sets with his melodies.

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littletayyswriting · 7 years

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Stay In My Arms (If You Dare)

Title: Stay In My Arms (If You Dare)

Author: LittleTayy

Rating: PG

Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay

Summary: Kathryn’s heart thundered in her chest, eyes wide and tear filled at his admission. She hadn’t imagined that he’d still feel that way for her; that he still loved her. They’d been through so much and her heart and mind had resigned themselves to the fact she’d always have to love him from afar, never to have him as her own.

Read On: ff.net or AO3

“Don't make me close one more door I don't want to hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you…”

‘I Have Nothing’ by Whitney Houston

It’s Voyager’s Homecoming Ball and the smile plastered onto her face is fake. She’d been wearing it well since Voyager had returned to the Alpha Quadrant and made its miraculous return home to Earth. The smile was starting to suffocate her now though; after all it’s been four weeks and she’s worn it through debriefings and ceremonies and she thinks, no one’s questioned her apparently undeniable happiness at being home.

And it’s not that she isn’t happy. Because she is, very much so, at having finally made it home after seven long and tumultuous years; but her happiness is surface deep. She had thought getting back to the Alpha Quadrant would leave her exuberant, it had been her sole mission the last seven years but now that she was here, she felt empty.

The emptiness was settling into her soul and her bones like it never had before and her heart ached with each moment that passed. It only got worse as her gaze, albeit her intentions otherwise, seemed to hone in on her First Officer and his whereabouts throughout the night. The fact he’d entered the ballroom with Seven, Annika, on is arm hadn’t escaped her notice. In fact, it only served to hurt her heart more.

With a sigh, she made her way towards a quiet, unoccupied corner of the room. She needed a moment to breathe and brood in peace; and to get away from the apparently handsy Admirals that seemed to be in attendance. It seemed her dress had invited some unwanted admirers.

Her dress was long forest green silk, the back scooping low, her hair wisped and curled around her shoulders. It was the most revealing thing she’d worn in seven years and she’d balked at it the first time she’d laid eyes on it. Even now she still felt a little unlike herself, actually unlike the Captain but she reminded herself, she didn’t have to be only the Captain anymore.

That thought alone should’ve brought relief to her but it didn’t. The heaviness she’d been feeling wouldn’t allow her to take joy in the smallest, simplest of offerings anymore. The only time since her feet had touched down on Earth that she felt any kind of happiness had been the all too brief hug she and Chakotay had shared only a week ago after their last debriefing. The hug had been short lived, both of them pulling away slowly, relishing the last feel of each other before they were recalled back to reality.

So lost in her ruminations, she hadn’t noticed the presence that had sidled up beside her; a remarkable feat really, considering she had always been so attuned to his body. Especially when it was so close to hers. His voice and warmth breath against her ear startled her, head whipping to the side to look at him quickly, smile spreading easily over her features as she saw the appearance of his dimples.

“Chakotay,” she breathed lowly, almost surprised he was even beside her. Her gaze flowed over him easily, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep lightly before taking a small step back, giving them space.

“Kathryn,” he greets her, voice like warm honey, “Finally taking a reprieve from the meet and greets?” he asked jovially, though there was an undeniable tone of understanding in his voice. He knew how taxing all the formalities would’ve been for her; how much she quite despised them. But she was the captain and it was unfortunate for her that she was to be the face of Voyager.

Kathryn laughed drily, shaking her head at his words. “I didn’t think I’d ever get away from Admiral Parsons,” she admitted, a smirk quirking her lips as she gazed up at her second in command. “He seemed determined to know every single little detail about the Delta Quadrant. Thank goodness Harry Kim’s parents wanted to meet me. I don’t think I’d have gotten away otherwise,” she snorts, shaking her head as she tears her eyes away from him, instead focusing out over the Ball taking place.

She’d sequestered herself into a corner, away from leery Admirals and gushing families, to take a minute for her self. It was far too much for her, far too overwhelming. Now, having him standing next to her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body, she felt almost claustrophobic.

“Why didn’t you signal me? You know I would’ve come to save you. It’s my job…” he trails off then, his expression hard to read.

She sighs then, looking down for a moment at the floor, taking a deep steadying breath. Looking back up at him, she saw the frown and furrowed eyebrows as his gaze burned into her; his look was intense and she suddenly felt fear spike through her.

The tension was thick between them and Kathryn wanted to turn tail and run. She couldn’t do this with him, not here and not now. But as he stepped closer, his chest only a hairsbreadth away from her bare arm, she felt a shiver run through her. As soon as their eyes connected, his dark chocolate brown into her ice blue, she knew she’d lost.

“Dance with me?” He asked, a large hand coming up in front of her, palm upturned, offering, as if sparks didn’t fly whenever their skin touched.

She hesitated, she really shouldn’t, and she knew it was dangerous. Once they were in each other’s arms, she wasn’t sure if she could conceivably let him go again. This was too close, too intimate but looking up into his eyes, she couldn’t deny him any longer.

“Of course,” she agreed, a large lilting smile gracing her features as she brought her hand up to rest in his waiting one. She gives his hand a gentle squeeze as she notices the bright smile that flits across his face as he takes her hand and leads her out onto the dance floor in the centre of the room.

It takes them a moment to navigate around the tables and Admirals and crewmembers families but eventually, they make it to the dance floor, hands still gently entwined. There seemed to be a dozen or so couples swaying together on the dance floor already and as the music changed, Kathryn noticed with trepidation and delight that the couples seemed to press closer together. That fact, she was sure, wasn’t lost on the Commander but he did nothing but lead her more firmly onto the dance floor, his large hand still engulfing hers and urging her to face him. If she didn’t know any better, Kathryn would’ve assumed he’d somehow set up this almost intimate waltz that seemed to be playing.

His hand holds hers more securely now, as his arm moves to wrap around her waist, hand settling surprisingly low on her bare back. His warm touch has her body jolting, the blush rising to her cheeks and as their bodies press close together she hopes he doesn’t notice. They start slow, a little unsure of exactly what they’re doing but it doesn’t take long for them to fall into a rhythm and sway.

“I never took you for a dancer, Chakotay,” Kathryn husks once they’ve found their footing, her voice far too breathless for her own liking. She chances a glance up at him and regrets her decision when his eyes find hers immediately and she can feel the intense attraction sizzling around them. Her lips part, tongue flicking out over her lips for a moment, their bodies pressing deliciously closer, too much so and all she can seem to think about is the taste of his lips.

Kathryn shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she realized Chakotay had responded to her words. The flush on her cheeks brightened she was sure and though it was a vain hope, she’d rather not have Chakotay notice. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even and her mind from wondering like it had only moments before.

The chuckle that reverberated from the Commander sent a thrill through her and she couldn’t help but smirk. “Something on your mind, Kathryn?” he murmured, voice low and the way he said her name, the way he’d always said it, had her insides melting like she was a schoolgirl once again. “And, I’m not really a dancer. I just know some of the basics. You though, I always wondered; you seem to have…what do they call it? A dancer’s body,” he told her, smirk wide and dimples on full display, as he pressed her body more firmly against his own. Her eyes widened, if she didn’t know any better she’d have thought he was flirting with her. Surely he wouldn’t, not here and not now and surely not so blatantly. But there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye and a dangerous edge to his smirk, one she was having a hard time resisting it seemed. A beat passed then and a thought crossed her mind, two can play this game and a devious smirk spread across her features.

“I did dance, my mother insisted on it. Said I couldn’t always have my head in the stars or in my science books. I was quite flexible actually,” she commented, though there was a non-chalance to her words, the almost heated and challenging stare she was giving him, suggested otherwise.

He looked startled for a moment, lips quirking to reply when a hand on his arm and a voice echoing from beside them, brought them out of their bubble. Seven stood there in her pretty and sleek dress, hair surprisingly down and reality came crashing down on Kathryn like a ton of bricks. Whatever they had been doing, flirting, had been entirely and utterly inappropriate; as had the way their bodies had seemingly melted together.

Kathryn pulled away from him as if she’d been shocked, eyes wide as she realized the spectacle they had most assuredly made of themselves in front of so many people. “Seven,” she nodded, a tight smile upon her lips as she turned and made her way through the throng of people. It was rude, she knew but she couldn’t think of anything to say. She just wanted to get out of there and away from him before she made more of a fool of herself.

She’d made it out into the foyer, heading towards a courtyard, hoping beyond hope that there would be some privacy there. The tears had been threatening to overflow as she’d made her escape and now, surrounded by the lush greenery completely alone, they finally fell. It seemed as if she’d been holding them in all night and now that she was finally allowing herself to cry, they were coming hard and fast and she hoped that no one found her out here, bawling her eyes out.

Her hopes were dashed however, after only moments she heard the doors closing behind her. Kathryn didn’t need to turn around to see who it was; there was only one person that would be following her and she hated that he would see her at her weakest moment right now. A hand quickly came up to wipe haplessly at the tears streaking down her cheeks, no doubt ruining the eye makeup her sister had so precisely applied. She took several deep and steadying breaths, trying to calm her self down before she could turn and face the man. But, it seemed he had other ideas.

“Kathryn?” He asked, voice soft and hesitant as he stepped closer, moving around her to stand in front of her. His eyes caught the mussed mascara and the tears and he looked so sad, Kathryn couldn’t take it. Why on Earth would he be sad? She was the one with the broken heart; he was the one that had moved on and fallen in love with her protégé.

Suddenly, Kathryn wasn’t crying anymore. Instead, she felt the anger bubbling up in her and her eyes turned from glassy and tear filled to a heated glare, aimed directly at her former First Officer.

“How could you?” She hissed somewhat irrationally; her anger was misplaced but it was the only outlet she’d allow herself at this moment. “I knew, I knew you couldn’t and wouldn’t wait around for me forever. But, damn it Chakotay! How could you, with Seven! Of all people? She’s…” She started, before cutting herself off and shaking her head. This wasn’t really about Seven. “No, this isn’t about her. This is about us! And everything I thought we had…I wanted you to be happy, I love you enough to want you to be happy even if it’s not with me. But then…then that dance? Why would you do that to me Chakotay? Surely…surely you know how I still feel about you!” She exclaimed, hands gesticulating angrily in the space between.

“You love me?” Chakotay breathed the words as if they were precious and Kathryn suddenly stopped. Chakotay was looking at her wide eyed and stunned, like he couldn’t believe what she’d just admitted to him.

“That’s…” Kathryn started breathlessly, unable to form a sentence to explain away her words. So instead, she settled for the truth. “Of course I do, Chakotay. I’ve loved you ever since New Earth…” she admitted softly, the anger she’d been feeling only moments before having dissipated to quiet resignation. “Not having you by my side every day these last few weeks has been harder then I’d ever imagined it would be. I can barely breathe without you around,” she told him, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll learn to live with it,” she voiced as an afterthought.

“Kathryn Janeway, why would you ever have to learn to live without me?” Chakotay asked his tone almost amused.

Kathryn looked up at him sharply, not quite sure what he was implying by his words. “You…and Seven. I imagine you’ll want to be with her and…we’re not exactly in a Command structure anymore,” the words she spoke were pained, “I don’t see how we’d-”

“Stop,” his voice was quiet and firm, cutting off her words. His eyes found hers and Kathryn found herself sinking into them, as she sometimes had a habit of doing. “Kathryn, Annika and I…we aren’t an item. Not anymore,” he told her firmly and Kathryn could see the truth in his eyes and in his words. Even still, she felt a need to question him.

“Then why did you arrive together?” Kathryn questioned obstinately, lips pursing as she looked up at him.

Chakotay couldn’t help the slightly amused smile that graced his lips as he answered, “I agreed to escort her as a friend. She’d never been to a Ball and she was nervous. She’d have asked her Captain about the social event, but you seemed to be quite unreachable the last few weeks. And with the Doctor currently not around, I was the next best thing.”

The words were genuine and Kathryn almost felt bad for her disappearing act. The debriefings had legitimately taken up most of the time but she also couldn’t deny that she’d been desperately trying to avoid Seven since they’d landed back on Earth. It had been a childish thing to do but Kathryn had convinced herself it was a necessity. After all, she didn’t think she could focus on her debriefings if Seven brought up Chakotay and their relationship.

Except, it seems, they weren’t in a relationship anymore. The thought shouldn’t relieve her as much as it did but she couldn’t help herself. Kathryn had no real claim over Chakotay but knowing he wasn’t with anyone else at the moment had a heaviness lifting from her chest.

“Oh,” she said after a moment, knowing her cheeks were probably blotching red by now. “I’m sorry,” she told him sincerely; ashamed almost of having cut the young woman so easily out of her life these last few weeks.

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing too,” Chakotay told her after a moment. “But, you don’t have to do that right now. I think right now, we have quite a bit to talk about. Don’t you?” He suggested, reaching a hand out to tentatively take her hand in his. She could feel the electricity flowing between them just as it had earlier and was suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart.

“What do we have to talk about?” She asked vaguely, reverting back to her Captain persona, though she didn’t mean too. She felt, more then heard the sigh that left Chakotay’s lips as he squeezed her hand gently.

“Come, sit,” Chakotay urged, using the hand he held to pull her gently towards a stone bench that bordered along a window into the ballroom.

They settled beside each other, neither letting go of each other’s hands. Kathryn’s gaze dropped down to their joined hands resting atop Chakotay’s knee. They were angled towards each other and though only their knees were touching, she could feel Chakotay’s thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles.

“You love me,” it was a statement, not a question but Kathryn answered affirmatively.

“I do. I have for a long time,” she continued softly, eyes looking across to his, delighted to see the love and warmth in his own eyes staring back at her. “But on Voyager, it just…it couldn’t have happened. I resigned myself to that. I knew you’d move on one day and I was prepared for that, accepted it even. Then we got back to the Alpha Quadrant…” she trailed off, sighing sadly. She took a moment to compose herself, lips pressing tightly together for a moment before she spoke again. “Then we got back here, decades earlier then any of us had anticipated but it was too late. Or, I thought it was. Either way, knowing we finally had the chance to be together but thinking you’d finally moved on…it was heartbreaking Chakotay,” her voice wavered then, the emotion almost overwhelming her. “Then that dance…and being interrupted by Seven. It was too much,” she admitted softly, sadly.

She took a shuddering breath, trying to keep her emotions in check as her gaze flicked towards the window, seeing bodies move through the large ballroom. She needed a moment just to regain her composure.

“I’m sorry,” Chakotay eventually spoke, letting them have a moment of silence with their thoughts.

“No,” she frowned, “You don’t have to apologise. I know I’ve never had a claim to you Chakotay,” Kathryn tried to explain, her hand squeezing his as she tried to convey her message.

“But I do, Kathryn,” Chakotay interrupted her again. “Let me explain now, please? I’m sorry for first, not telling you Seven and I were…together and then for not telling you we had ended our dalliance. I should’ve told you last week but I thought you’d heard. You invited me, after all. And secondly, I’m sorry for ever making you doubt my love for you because I do love you Kathryn Janeway. Hear that? Present tense…I may have tried to move on, but you have a claim to my heart. You always have,” he told her softly, lifting his free hand up to brush gently against her cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear lightly.

Kathryn’s heart thundered in her chest, eyes wide and tear filled at his admission. She hadn’t imagined that he’d still feel that way for her; that he still loved her. They’d been through so much and her heart and mind had resigned themselves to the fact she’d always have to love him from afar, never to have him as her own.

But that wasn’t to be.

“Chakotay,” she breathed his name almost reverently, eyes locked with his, hoping he could see her love for him shining through.

Chakotay smiled, dimples on full display as he slowly stood up, a hand still holding hers. “Will you dance with me Kathryn?” He asked sweetly, giving her hand a gentle tug, helping her stand up.

“What?” She asked breathlessly, surprised by his request. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting to happen.

“Will you dance with me?” He asked again, “I want to hold you in my arms,” he explained, still smiling that same sweet and loving smile at her.

“Of course,” she nodded, her own loving smile spreading across her face as she stepped closer to him, the heat electric between them as their bodies pressed closely together. His hands fell to hold her waist, one slipping further around to press the heat of his hand against her bare skin. Her own smoothed up his toned arms, coming to rest interlaced against his neck, fingers playing in the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” Chakotay whispered to her as they gently swayed to the faint music that could be heard through the window of the ballroom.

“I love you too,” Kathryn murmured back, smiling widely up at him as she leaned up to press a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. They stayed in the embrace for several long moments before pulling back, both slightly breathless as they rested their foreheads against each other.

“I know we have a lot to work out,” Chakotay begun again, “But what I do know is that I want you to stay in my arms forever. I never want to let you go again,” he admitted freely, pressing her imperceptibly closer.

Kathryn smiled at his words, her own arms tightening slightly. “We do. But right here, in your arms? There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” she murmured against his lips, pulling him into another sweet and loving kiss.

#janeway x chakotay #star trek voyager fanfiction #kathryn janeway #chakotay

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gaysparklepires · 6 years

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11. Legends

“Are you gonna eat that hot dog?” Paul asked Jacob, his eyes locked on the last remnant of the huge meal the werewolves had consumed.

Jacob leaned back against my knees and toyed with the hot dog he had spitted on a straightened wire hanger; the flames at the edge of the bonfire licked along it’s blistered skin. He heaved a sigh and patted his stomach. It was somehow still flat, though I’d lost count of how many hot dogs he’d eaten after his tenth. Not to mention the super-sized bag of chips or the two-liter bottle of root beer.

“I guess,” Jake said slowly. “I’m so full I’m about to puke. But I think I can force it down. I won’t enjoy it at all, though.” He sighed again sadly.

Despite the fact that Paul had eaten at least as much as Jacob, he glowered and his hands balled up into fists.

“Sheesh.” Jacob laughed. “Kidding, Paul. Here.”

He flipped the homemade skewer across the circle. I expected it to land hot-dog-first in the sand, but Paul caught it neatly on the right end without difficulty.

Hanging out with no one but extremely dexterous people all the time was going to give me a complex.

“Thanks, man,” Paul said, already over his brief fit of temper.

The fire crackled, settling lower toward the sand. Sparks flew up in a sudden puff of brilliant orange against the black sky. Funny, I hadn’t noticed that the sun had set. For the first time, I wondered how late it had gotten. I’d lost track of time completely.

It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I’d expected.

While Jacob and I had dropped off my bikes at the garage—and he had admitted ruefully that the helmet was a good idea and he should have thought of it himself—I’d started to worry about showing up with him at the bonfire, wondering if the werewolves would consider me a traitor now. Would they be angry for inviting me? Would I ruin the party?

But when Jacob had towed me out of the forest to the clifftop meeting place—where the fire already roared brighter than the cloud obscured sun—it had all been very casual and light.

“Hey, vampire boy!” Embry had greeted me loudly. Quil had jumped up to high give and kiss me on the cheek. Emily had squeezed my hand when we’d sat on the cool stone ground beside her and Sam.

Other than a few teasing complaints—mostly by Paul—about keeping the bloodsucker stench downwind, I was treated like someone who belonged.

It wasn’t just kids in attendance, either. Billy was here, his wheelchair stationed at what seemed to be the natural head of the circle. Beside him on a folding lawn chair, looking quite brittle, was Quil’s ancient, white-haired grandfather, Old Quil. Sue Clearwater, widow of Charlie’s friend Harry, had a chair on his other side; her two boys, Liam and Seth, were also there, sitting on the ground like the rest of us. This surprised me, but all three were clearly in on the secret now. From the way Billy and Old Quil spoke to Sue, it sounded like she’d taken Harry’s place on the council. Did that make her children automatic members of La Push’s most secret society?

I wondered how horrible it was for Liam to sit across the circle from Sam and Emily. His handsome face betrayed no emotion, but he never looked away from the flames. Looking at the perfection of Liam’s features, I couldn’t help but compare them to Emily’s ruined face. What did Liam think of Emily’s scars, now that he knew the truth behind them? Did it seem like justice in his eyes?

Little Seth Clearwater wasn’t so little anymore. With his huge, happy grin and his long, gangly build, he reminded me very much of a younger Jacob. The resemblance made me smile, and then sigh. Was Seth doomed to have his life change as drastically as the rest of these boys? Was Liam? Was that future why they were allowed to be here?

The whole pack was there: Sam with his Emily, Paul, Embry, Quil, and Jared with Kim, his girlfriend.

My impression of Kim was that she was a nice girl, a little shy, maybe. She was pretty, if not a bit average looking. Nothing about her stood out to me at first, but after a few hours of watching Jared watch Kim, I could no longer find anything average about the girl.

The way he stared at her! It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Like a collector finding an undiscovered Da Vinci, like a mother looking into the face of her newborn child.

His wondering eyes made me see new things about her—how her skin looked like russet-colored silk in the firelight, how the shape of her lips was a perfect double curve, how white her teeth were against them, how long her eyelashes were, brushing her cheek when she looked down.

Kim’s skin sometimes darkened when she met Jared’s awed gaze, and her eyes would drop as if in embarrassment, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes away from his for any length of time.

Watching them, I couldn’t help but wondered if that was how Edward looked at me, or even—maybe—if that was how Jacob looked at me.

Kim was nodding off now against Jared’s chest, his arms around her. I imagined she would be very warm there.

“It’s getting late,” I whispered to Jacob.

“Don’t start that yet,” Jacob whispered back—though certainly half the group here had hearing sensitive enough to hear us anyway. “The best part is coming.”

“What’s the best part? You swallowing an entire cow whole?”

Jacob chuckled his low, throaty laugh. “No. That’s the finale. We didn’t meet just to eat through a week’s worth of food. This is technically a council meeting. It’s Quill’s first time, and he hasn’t heard the stories yet. Well, he’s heard them, but this will be the first time he knows they’re true. That tends to make a guy pay closer attention. Kim and Seth and Liam are all first-timers, too.”

“Stories?”

Jacob scooted back beside me, where I rested against a low ridge of rock. He put his arm over my shoulder and spoke even lower into my ear.

“The histories we always thought were legends,” he said. “The stories of how we came to be. The first is the story of the spirit warriors.”

It was almost as if Jacob’s soft whisper was the introduction. The atmosphere changed abruptly around the low-burning fire. Paul and Embry sat up straighter. Jared nudged Kim and then pulled her gently upright.

Emily produced a spiral-bound notebook and pen, looking exactly like a student set for an important lecture. Sam twisted just slightly beside her—so that he was facing the same direction as Old Quil, who was on his other side—and suddenly I realized that the elders of the council here were not three, but four in number.

Liam Clearwater, his face still a handsome and emotionless mask, closed his eyes—not like he was tired, but as if to help his concentration. His brother leaned in toward the elders eagerly.

The fire crackled, sending another explosion of sparks glittering up against the night.

Billy cleared his throat, and, with no more introduction than his son’s whisper, began telling the story in his rich, deep voice. The words poured out with precision, as if he knew them by heart, but also with feeling and a subtle rhythm. Like poetry performed by its author.

“The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning,” Billy said. “And we are a small people still, but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. It wasn’t always the magic of shape-shifting—that came later. First, we were spirit warriors.”

Never before had I recognized the ring of majesty that was in Billy Black’s voice, though I realized now that this authority had always been there.

Emily’s pen sprinted across the sheets of paper as she tried to keep up with him.

“In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor and became skilled ship builders and fishermen. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. There were others who coveted our land, and we were too small to hold it. A larger tribe moved against us, and we took to our ships to escape them.

“Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that came before his. We do not remember who was the first to discover this power, or how it had been used before this crisis. Kaheleha was the first great Spirit Chief in our history. In this emergency, Kaheleha used the magic to defend our land.

“He and all his warriors left the ship—not their bodies, but their spirits. Their women watched over the bodies and the waves, and the men took their spirits back to our harbor.

“They could not physically touch the enemy tribe, but they had other ways. The stories tell us that they could blow fierce winds into their enemy’s camps; they could make a great screaming in the wind that terrified their foes. The stories also tell us that the animals could see the spirit warriors and understand them; the animals would do their bidding.

“Kaheleha took his spirit army and wreaked havoc on the intruders. This invading tribe had packs of big, thick-furred dogs that they used to pull their sleds in the frozen north. The spirit warriors turned the dogs against their master and then brought a mighty infestation of bats up from the cliff caverns. They used the screaming wind to aid the dogs in confusing the men. The dogs and the bats won. The survivors scattered, calling our harbor a cursed place. The dogs ran wild when the spirit warriors released them. The Quileutes returned to their bodies and their families, victorious.

“The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, made treaties with the Quileutes. They wanted nothing to do with our magic. We lived in peace with them. When an enemy came against us, the spirit warriors would drive them off.

“Generations passed. Then came the last great Spirit Chief, Taha Aki. He was known for his wisdom, and for being a man of peace. The people lived well and content in his care.

“But there was one man, Utlapa, who was not content.”

A low hiss ran around the fire. I was too slow to see where it came from. Billy ignored it and went on with the legend.

“Utlapa was one of Chief Taha Aki’s strongest spirit warriors—a powerful man, but a grasping man, too. He thought the people should use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and the Makahs and build an empire.

“Now, when the warriors were their spirit selves, they knew each other’s thoughts. Taha Aki saw what Utlapa dreamed, and was angry with Utlapa. Utlapa was commanded to leave the people, and never use his spirit self again. Utlapa was a strong man, but the chief’s warriors outnumbered him. He had no choice but to leave. The furious outcast hid in the forest nearby, waiting for a chance to get revenge against the chief.

“Even in times of peace, the Spirit Chief was vigilant in protecting his people. Often, he would go to a sacred, secret place in the mountains. He would leave his body behind and sweep down through the forests and along the coast, making sure no threat approached.

“One day when Taha Aki left to perform his duty, Utlapa followed. At first, Utlapa simply planned to kill the thief, but his plan had its drawbacks. Surely the spirit warrior would seek to destroy him, and they could follow faster than he could escape. As he hid in the rocks and watched the chief prepare to leave his body, another plan occurred to him.

“Taha Aki left his body in the secret place and flew with the winds to keep watch over his people. Utlapa waited until he was sure the chief had traveled some distance with his spirit self.

“Taha Aki knew it the instant Utlapa had joined him in the spirit world, and he also knew Utlapa’s murderous plan. He raced back to his secret place, but even the winds weren’t fast enough to save him. When he returned, his body was already gone. Utlapa’s body lay abandoned, but Utlapa had not left Taha Aki with an escape—he had cut his own body’s throat with Taha Aki’s hands.

“Taha Aki followed his body down the mountain. He screamed at Utlapa, but Utlapa ignored him as if he were the wind.

“Taha Aki watched with despair as Utlapa took his place as chief of the Quileutes. For a few weeks, Utlapa did nothing but make sure that everyone believed he was Taha Aki. Then the changes began—Utlapa’s first edict was to forbid any warrior to enter the spirit world. He claimed that he’d had a vision of danger, but really he was afraid. He knew that Taha Aki would be waiting for the chance to tell his story. Utlapa was also afraid to enter the spirit world himself, knowing Taha Aki would quickly claim his body. So his dreams of conquest with a spirit warrior army were impossible, and he sought to content himself with ruling over the tribe. He became a burden—seeking privileges that Taha Aki had never requested, refusing to work alongside his warriors, taking a young second wife and then a third, though Taha Aki’s wife lived on—something unheard of in the tribe. Taha Aki watched in helpless fury.

“Eventually, Taha Aki tried to kill his body to save the tribe from Utlapa’s excesses. He brought a fierce wolf down from the mountains, but Utlapa hid behind his warriors. When the wolf killed a young man who was protecting the false chief, Taha Aki felt horrible grief. He ordered the wolf away.

“All the stories tell us that it was no easy thing to be a spirit warrior. It was more frightening than exhilarating to be freed from one’s body. This is why they only used their magic in times of need. The chief’s solitary journeys to keep watch were a burden and a sacrifice. Being bodiless was disorienting, uncomfortable, horrifying. Taha Aki had been away from his body for so long at this point that he was in agony. He felt he was doomed—never to cross over to the final land where his ancestors waited, stuck in this torturous nothingness forever.

The great wolf followed Taha Aki’s spirit as he twisted and writhed in agony through the woods. The wolf was very large for its kind, and beautiful. Taha Aki was suddenly jealous of the magnificent animal. At least it had a body. At least it had a life. Even life as an animal would be better than this horrible empty consciousness.

“And then the great wolf changed us all. The wolf opened itself up to share with Taha Aki. Overwhelmed with gratitude, Taha Aki entered the wolf’s body with relief. It was not his human body, but it was better than the void of the spirit world and the spirit of the great wolf gave him its strength and power.

As one, the man and the wolf returned to the village on the harbor. He retreated slowly from them, speaking with his eyes and trying to yelp the songs of his people. The warriors began to realize that the wolf was no ordinary animal, that there was a spirit influencing it. One older warrior, a man named Yut, decided to disobey the false chief’s order and try to communicate with the wolf.

“As soon as Yut crossed to the spirit world, Taha Aki left the wolf—the animal waited tamely for his return—to speak to him. Yut gathered the truth in an instant, and welcomed his true chief home.

“At this time, Utlapa came to see if the the wolf had been defeated. When he saw Yut lying lifeless on the ground, surrounded by protective warriors, he realized what was happening. He drew his knife and raced forward to kill Yut before he could return to his body.

“’Traitor,’ he screamed, and the warriors did not know what to do. The chief had forbidden spirit journeys, and it was the chief’s decision how to punish those who disobeyed.

“Yut jumped back into his body, but Utlapa had his knife at his throat and a hand covering his mouth. Taha Aki’s body was strong, and Yut was weak with age. Yut could not say even one word to warn the others before Utlapa silenced him forever.

“Taha Aki watched as Yut’s spirit slipped away to the final lands that were barred to Taha Aki for all eternity. He felt a great rage, more powerful than anything he’d felt before. He entered the big wolf again, meaning to rip Utlapas throat out, But, as he joined the wolf, the greatest magic happened.

“Taha Aki’s anger was the anger of a man. The love he had for his people and the hatred he had for their oppressor were too vast for the wolf’s body, too human. The wolf shuddered, and—before the eyes of the shocked warriors and Utlapa—transformed into a man.

“The new man did not look like Taha Aki’s body. He was far more glorious. He was the flesh interpretation of Taha Aki’s spirit. The warriors recognized him at once, though, for they had flown with Taha Aki’s spirit.

“Utlapa tried to run, but Taha Aki had the strength of the wolf in his new body. He caught the thief and crushed the spirit from him before he could jump out of the stolen body.

“The people rejoiced when they understood what had happened. Taha Aki quicly set everything right, working again with his people and giving the young wives back to their families. The only change he kept in place was the end of the spirit travels. He knew that it was too dangerous now that the idea of stealing a life was there. The spirit warriors were no more.

“From that point on, Taha Aki was more than either wolf or man. They called him Taha Aki the Great Wolf. He led the tribe for many, many years, for he did not age. When danger threatened, he would resume his wolf-self to fight or frighten the enemy. The people dwelt in peace. Taha Aki fathered many sons, and some of these found that, after they had reached the age of manhood, they, too, could transform into wolves. The wolves were all different, because they were spirit wolves and reflected the man they were inside.”

“So that’s why Sam is all black,” Quil muttered under his breath, grinning. “Black heart, black fur.”

I was so involved in the story, it was a shock to come back to the present, to the circle around the dying fire. With another shock, I realized that the circle was made up of Taha Aki’s great—to however many degrees—grandsons.

The fire threw a volley of sparks into the sky, and they shivered and danced, making shapes that were almost decipherable.

“And your chocolate fur reflects what?” Sam whispered back to Quil. “How sweet you are?”

Billy ignored their jibes. “Some of the sons became warriors with Taha Aki, and they no longer aged. Otheres, who did not like the transformation, refused to join the pack of wolf-men. These began to age again, and the tribe discovered that the wolf-men could grow old like anyone else if they gave up their spirit wolves. Taha Aki had lived the span of three old men’s lives. He had married a third wife after the deaths of the first two, and found in her his true spirit wife. Though he had loved the others, this was something else. He decided to give up his spirit wolf so that he would die when she did.

“This is how magic came to us, but it is not the end of the story…”

He looked at Old Quil Ateara, who shifted in his chair, straightening his frail shoulders. Billy took a drink from a bottle of water and wiped his forehead. Emily’s pen never hesitated as she scribbled furiously on the paper.

“That was the story of the spirit warriors,” Old Quil began in a thin tenor voice. “This is the story of the third wife’s sacrifice.

“Many years after Taha Aki gave up his spirit wolf, when he was an old man, trouble began in the north, with the Makahs. Several young women of their tribe had disappeared, and they blamed it on the neighboring wolves, who they feared and mistrusted. The wolf-men could still read each other’s thoughts while in their wolf forms, just like their ancestors had while in their spirit forms. They knew that none of their number was to blame. Taha Aki tried to pacify the Makah chief, but there was too much fear. Taha Aki did not want to have a war on his hands. He was no longer a warrior to lead his people. He charged his oldest wolf-son, Taha Wi, with finding the true culprit before hostilities began.

“Taha Wi led the five other wolves in his pack on a search through the mountains, looking for any evidence of the missing Makahs. They came across something they had never encountered before—a strange, sweet scent in the forest that burned their noses to the point of pain.”

I shrank closer to Jacob’s side. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, and his arm tightened around me.

“They did not know what creature would leave such a scent, but they followed it,” Old Quil continued. His quavering voice did not have the majesty of Billy’s, but it had a strange, fierce edge of urgency about it. My pulse jumped as his words came faster.

“They found faint traces of human scent, and human blood, along the trail. They were sure this was the enemy they were searching for.

“The journey took them so far north that Taha Wi sent half the pack, the younger ones, back to the harbor to report to Taha Aki.

“Taha Wi and his two brothers did not return.

“The younger brothers searched for their elders, but found only silence. Taha Aki mourned for his sons. He wished to avenge his sons’ death, but he was old. He went to the Makah chief in his mourning clothes and told him everything that had happened. The Makah chief believed his friend, and tensions ended between the tribes.

“A year later, two Makah maidens disappeared from their homes on the same night. The Makah’s called on the Quileute wolves at once, who found the same sweet stink all through the Makah village. The wolves went on the hunt again.

“Only one came back. He was Yaha Uta, the oldest son of Taha Aki’s third wife, and the youngest in the pack. He brought something with him that had never been seen in all the days of the Quileautes—a strange, cold, stony corpse that he carried in pieces. All who were of Taha Aki’s blood, even those who had never been wolves, could smell the piercing smell of the dead creature. This was the enemy of the Makahs.

“Yaha Uta described what had happened: he and his brothers had found the creature, who looked like a man but was hard as a granite rock, with the two Makah daughters. One girl was already dead, white and bloodless on the ground. The other was in the creature’s arms, his mouth at her throat. She may have been alive when they came upon the hideous scene, but the creature quickly snapped her neck and tossed her lifeless body to the ground when they approached. His white lips were covered in her blood, and his eyes glowed red.

“Yaha Uta described the fierce strength and speed of the creature. One of his brothers quickly became a victim when he underestimated that strength. The creature ripped him apart like a doll. Yaha Uta and his older brother were more wary. They worked together, coming at the creature from the sides, outmaneuvering it. They had to reach the very limits of their wolf strength and speed, something that had never been tested before. The creature was hard as stone and cold as ice. They found that only their teeth could damage it. They began to rip small pieces of the creature apart while it fought them.

“But the creature learned quickly, and soon was matching their maneuvers. It got its hands on Yaha Uta’s brother. Yaha Uta found an opening on the creature’s throat and he lunged. His teeth tore the head off the creature, but the hands continued to mangle his brother.

“Yaha Uta ripped the creature into unrecognizable chunks, tearing pieces apart in a desperate attempt to save his brother. He was too late, but, in the end, the creature was destroyed.

“Or so they thought. Yaha Uta laid the reeking remains out to be examined by the elders. One severed hand lay beside a piece of the creature’s granite arm. The two pieces touched when the elders poked them with sticks, and the hand reached out towards the arm piece, trying to reassemble itself.

“Horrified, the elders set fire to the remains. A great cloud of choking, vile smoke polluted the air. When there was nothing but ashes, they separated the ashes into many small bags and spread them far and wide—some in the ocean, some in the forest, some in the cliff caverns. Taha Aki wore one bag around his neck, so he would be warned if the creature ever tried to put himself together again.”

Old Quil paused and looked at Billy. Billy pulled out a leather cord from around his neck. Hanging from the end was a small bag, blackened with age. A few people gasped. I might have been one of them.

“They called it The Cold One, the Blood Drinker, and lived in fear that it was not alone. They only had one wolf protector left, young Yaha Uta.

“They did not have long to wait. The Cold Man was not alone, he had a mate, another blood drinker, who came to the Quileutes seeking revenge.

“The stories say that the Cold Woman was the most beautiful thing human eyes had ever seen. She looked like the goddess of the dawn when she entered the village that morning; the sun was shining for once, and it glittered off her white skin and lit the golden hair that flowed down to her knees. Her face was magical in its beauty, her eyes black in her white face. Some fell to their knees to worship her.

“She asked something in a high, piercing voice, in a language no one had ever heard. The people were dumbfounded, not knowing how to answer her. There was none of Taha Aki’s blood among the witnesses but one small boy. He clung to his mother and screamed that the smell was hurting his nose. One of the elders, on his way to council, heard the boy and realized what had come among them. He yelled for the people to run. She killed him first.

“There were twenty witnesses to the Cold Woman’s approach. Two survived, only because she grew distracted by the blood, and paused to sate her thirst. They ran to Taha Aki, who sat in counsel with the other elders, his sons, and his third wife.

“Yaha Uta transformed into his spirit wolf as soon as he heard the news. He went to destroy the blood drinker alone. Taha Aki, his third wife, his sons, and his elders followed behind him.

“At first they could not find the creature, only the evidence of her attack. Bodies lay broken, a few drained of blood, strewn across the road where she’d appeared. Then they heard the screams and hurried to the harbor.

“A handful of the Quileautes had run to the ships for refuge. She swam after them like a shark, and broke the bow of their boat with her incredible strength. When the ship sank, she caught those trying to swim away and broke them, too.

“She saw the great wolf on the shore, and she forgot the fleeing swimmers. She swam so fast she was a blur and came, dripping and glorious, to stand before Yaha Uta. She pointed at him with one white finger and asked another incomprehensible question. Yaha Uta waited.

“It was a close fight. She was not the warrior her mate had been. But Yaha Uta was alone—there was no one to distract her fury from him.

“When Yaha Uta lost, Taha Aki screamed in defiance. He limped forward and shifted into an ancient, white-muzzled wolf. The wolf was old, but this was Taha Aki the Great Wolf, and his rage made him strong. The fight began again.

“Taha Aki’s third wife had just seen her son die before her. Now her husband fought, and she had no hope that he could win. She’d heard every word the witnesses to the slaughter had told the council.

“The third wife was no magical being, with no special powers but one; courage. She grabbed a knife from the belt of one of the sons who stood beside her. They were all young sons, not yet men, and she knew they would die when their father failed.

“The third wife ran toward the Cold Woman with the dagger raised high. The Cold Woman smiled, barely distracted from her fight with the old wolf. She had no fear of the weak human woman or the knife that would not even scratch her skin, and she was about to deliver the death blow to Taha Aki.

“And then the third wife did something the Cold Woman did not expect. She fell to her knees at the blood drinker’s feet and plunged the knife into her own heart.

“Blood spurted through the thid wife’s fingers and splashed against the Cold Women. The blood drinker could not resist the lure of the fresh blood leaving the thurd wife’s body. Instinctively, she turned to the dying woman, for one second entirely consumed by thirst.

“Taha Aki’s teeth closed around her neck.

“That was not the end of the ight, but Taha Aki was not alone now. Watching their mother die, the two young sons felt such rage that they sprang forth as their spirit wolves, though they were not yet men. With their father, they finished the creature.

“Taha Aki never rejoined the tribe. He never changed back to a man again. He lay for one day beside the body of the third wife, growling whenever anyone tried to touch her, and then he went into the forest and never returned.

“Trouble with the cold ones was rare from that time on. Taha Aki’s sons guarded the tribe until their sons were old enough to take their places. There were never more than three wolves at a time. It was enough. Occasionally a blood drinker would come through these lands, but they were taken by surprise, not expecting the wolves. Sometimes a wolf would die, but never were they decimated again like that first time. They’d learned how to fight the cold ones, and they passed the knowledge on, wolf mind to wolf mind, spirit to spirit, father to son.

“Time passed, and the descendents of Taha Aki no longer became wolves when they reached manhood. Only in a great while, if a cold one was near, would the wolves return. The cold ones always came in ones and twos, and the pack stayed small.

“A bigger coven came, and your own great-grandfathers prepared to fight them off. But the leader spoke to Ephraim Black as if he were a man, and promised not to harm the Quileutes. His strange yellow eyes gave some proof to his claim that they were not the same as other blood drinkers. The wolves were outnumbered; there was no need for the cold ones to offer a treaty when they could have won the fight. Ephraim accepted. They’ve stayed true to their side, though their presence does tend to draw in others.

“And their numbers have forced a larger pack than the tribe has ever seen,” Old Quil said, and for one moment his black eyes, all but buried in the wrinkles of skin folded around them, seemed to rest on me. “Except, of course, in Taha Aki’s time,” he said, and then he sighed. “And so the sons of our tribe again carry the burden and share the sacrifice their fathers endured before them.”

All was silent for a long moment. The living descendents of magic and legend stared at one another across the fire with sadness in their eyes. All but one.

“Burden,” he scoffed in a low voice. “I think it’s cool.” Quil’s full lower lip pouted out a little bit.

Across the dying fire, Seth Clearwater—his eyes wide with adulation for the fraternity of tribal protectors—nodded his agreement.

Billy chuckled, low and long, and the magic seemed to fade into the glowing embers. Suddenly, it was just a circle of friends again. Jared flicked a small stone at Quil, and everyone laughed when it made him jump. Low conversations murmured around us, teasing and casual.

Liam Clearwater’s eyes did not open. I thought I saw something sparkling on his cheek like a tear, but when I looked back a moment later it was gone.

Neither Jacob nor I spoke. He was so still beside me, his breath so deep and even, that I thought he might be close to sleep.

My mind was a thousand years away. I was not thinking of Yaha Uta or the other wolves, or the beautiful Cold Man or Woman—I could picture them only too easily. No, I was thinking of someone outside the magic altogether. I was trying to imagine the face of the unnamed woman who had saved the entire tribe, the third wife.

Just a human, with no special gifts or powers. Physically weaker and slower than any of the monsters in the story. But she had been the key, the solution. She’d saved her husband, her young sons, her tribe.

I wish they’d remembered her name….

Something shook my arm.

“C’mon, babe,” Jacob said in my ear. “We’re here.”

I blinked, confused because the fire seemed to have disappeared. I glared into the unexpected darkness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It took me a minute to realize that I was no longer on the cliff. Jacob and I were alone. I was still under his arm, but I wasn’t on the ground anymore.

How did I get in Jacob’s car?

“Oh, crap!” I gasped as I realized that I had fallen asleep. “How late is it? Damn it, where’s my stupid phone?” I patted my pockets, frantic and coming up empty.

“Easy. It’s not even midnight yet. And I already called him for you. Look—he’s waiting there.”

“Midnight?” I repeated stupidly, still disoriented. I stared into the darkness, and I could barely make out the shape of the Volvo, thirty yards away. I slowly reached for the door handle.

“Here,” Jacob said, and he put a rectangular object into my other hand. My phone.

“You called Edward for me?”

My eyes were adjusted enough to see the bright gleam of Jacob’s smile. “I figured if I played nice, I’d get more time with you.”

“Thanks, Jake,” I said, touched. “Really, thank you. And thanks for inviting me tonight. That was…” Words failed me. “Wow. That was something else.”

“And you didn’t even stay up to watch me swallow a cow.” He laughed. “No, I’m glad you liked it. It was… nice for me. Having you there.”

There was a movement in the dark distance—something pale ghosting against the black trees. Pacing?

“Yeah, he’s not so patient, is he?” Jacob said, noticing my distraction. “Go ahead. But come back soon, okay?”

“Sure, Jake,” I promised, as I leaned back into him for a goodbye hug.

“Sleep tight, babe.” Jacob breathed into my ear. “Don’t worry about anything—I’ll be watching out for you tonight.”

I pulled away from him. “No, Jake. Get some rest, I’ll be fine.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, but he sounded more patronizing than agreeing.

I sighed and cracked the car door open. Cold air washed across my legs and made me shiver.

“’Night, Jake. Thanks.”

“’Night, Beau,” he whispered as I stepped out into the darkness.

Edward caught me at the boundary line.

“Beau,” he said, relief strong in his voice; his arms wound tightly around me.

“Hi. Sorry I’m so late. I fell asleep and—“

“I know. Jacob explained.” He started toward the car, and I staggered woodenly at his side. “Are you tired? I could carry you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s get you home and in bed. Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah—it was amazing, Edward. Like, I can’t even explain it. Jake’s dad told us the old legends and it was like… like magic.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it. After you’ve slept.”

“I won’t get it right,” I said, and then I yawned hugely.

Edward chuckled. He opened my door for me, lifted me in, and buckled my seat belt around me.

Bright lights flashed on and swept across us. I waved toward Jacob’s headlights, but I didn’t know if he saw the gesture.

That night—after I’d gotten past Charlie, who didn’t give me as much trouble as I’d expected because Jacob had called him too—instead of collapsing in bed right away, I leaned out the open window while I waited for Edward to come back. The night was surprisingly cold, almost wintry. I hadn’t noticed it at all on the windy cliffs; I imagined it had less to do with the fire than it did with sitting next to Jacob.

Icy droplets spattered against my face as the rain began to fall.

It was too dark to see much besides the black triangles of the spruces leaning and shaking with the wind. But I strained my eyes anyway, searching for other shapes in the storm. A pale silhouette, moving like a ghost through the black… or maybe the shadowy outline of an enourmous wolf… My eyes were too weak.

Then there was a movement in the night, right beside me. Edward slid through my open window, his hands colder than the rain.

“Is Jacob out there?” I asked, shivering as Edward pulled me into the circle of his arm.

“Yes… somewhere. And Esme’s on her way home.”

I sighed. “It’s so cold and wet. This is silly.” I shivered again.

He chuckled. “It’s only cold to you, Beau.”

It was cold in my dream that night, too, maybe because I slept in Edward’s arms. But I dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping through my hair and blinding my eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore’s edge. At first, there was nothing but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything.

Royal, his hair swinging wet and golden down his back, was lunging at an enourmous wolf—its muzzle shot through with silver—that I instinctively recognized as Billy Black.

I broke into a run, but found myself moving in the frustrating slow motion of dreamers. I tried to scream to them, to tell them to stop, but my voice was stolen by the wind, and I could make no sound. I waved my arms, hoping to catch their attention. Something flashed in my hand, and I noticed for the first time that my right hand wasn’t empty.

I held a long, sharp blade, ancient and silver, crusted in dried, blackened blood.

I cringed away from the knife, and my eyes snapped back to the fighting figures on the beach. As I watched, Royal’s muscular frame seemed to slim out into a lean, cat-like figure and his golden hair began to twist and darken to a fiery red. Likewise, the old wolf seemed to shift into younger, more virulent form. The silver faded away into a deep, russet brown.

I was no longer watching Royal and Billy Black, but Victor and Jacob fighting on the beach.

My heart stopped and I watched in horror as Victor suddenly grabbed Jacob by the neck.

I did the only thing I could think to do, and rushing forward I raised the ancient blade high above me. Victor’s cold, thirsty eyes met mine and I brought the knife back down towards me.

My eyes snapped open to the quiet darkness of my bedroom. The first thing I realized was that I was not alone, and I turned to bury my face in Edward’s chest, knowing the sweet scent of his skin would help to chase away the nightmares.

“Did I wake you?” he whispered. There was the sound of paper, the ruffling of pages, and a faint thump a something light fell to the wooden floor.

“No,” I mumbled as his arms tightened around me. “I had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

I shook my head. “Too tired. Maybe in the morning, if I remember.”

I felt a silent laugh shake through him.

“In the morning,” he agreed.

“What were you reading?” I muttered, not really awake at all.

“Wuthering Heights,” he said.

I frowned sleepily, “I thought you didn’t like that book.”

“You left it out,” he murmured, his soft voice lulling me towards unconsciousness. “Besides… the more time I spend with you, the more human emotions seem comprehensible to me. I’m discovering that I can sympathize with Heathcliff in ways I didn’t think possible before.”

“Mmm,” I sighed.

He said something else, something low, but I was already asleep.

The next morning dawned pearly gray and still. Edward asked me about my dream, but I couldn’t get a handle on it. I only remembered that I was cold, and that I was glad he was there when I woke up. He kissed me, long enough to get my pulse racing, and then headed home to change and get his car.

I showered and dressed quickly, low on options. Whoever had ransacked my hamper had critically impaired my wardrobe. If It wasn’t so frightening, it would be seriously annoying.

As I was about to head down for breakfast, I noticed my battered copy of Wuthering Heights lying open on the floor where Edward had dropped it in the night, holding his place the way the damaged binding always held mine.

I picked it up curiously, trying to remember what he’d said. Something about feeling sympathy for Heathcliff, of all people. That couldn’t be right; I must have dreamed that part.

Three words on the open page caught my eye, and I bent my head to read the paragraph more closely. It was Heathcliff speaking, and I knew the passage well.

And you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drank his blood! But, till then—if you don’t believe me, you don’t know me—till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!

The three words that had caught my eye were “drank his blood.”

I shuddered.

Yes, surely I must have dreamt that Edward said anything positive about Heathcliff. And this page was probably not the page he’d been reading. The book could have fallen open to any page.

#Eclipse Revamped #3.11 #The Twilight Saga Revamped #The Twilight Saga #Twilight #Gay Twilight #Edward Cullen #Beau Swan #Jacob Black

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phff-authentic · 7 years

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eleven: a garden party

Sorry this was posted late. Life got ahead of me. I'll try to be better!!

“Thank you so much for your help”.

“It is I who should thank you for all your help with my dinner after all,” He answered returning the shy smile on her face with a wide grin before it widen in realisation, “Which I’m not entirely sure what to do with all the ingredients.”

“No I don’t think you do, I don’t appear to have any paper on me, do-” She paused for a moment, biting her lip before releasing almost as quickly in fear of ruining her make up. Summoning the courage within herself to continue the sentence, she brought her hand up to swipe a wavy lock of hair that had fallen out of place, “Do you have your phone on you? I’ll text you the recipe.”

A smile filled Harry’s face as he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled the device out unlocking it before passing it over to her, mirroring his actions, she gently took a hold of his phone as she passed her own over to him. They exchanged numbers before they were left in a short silence until the car horn went off. Turning to glare lightly at Jayne, Kimberly gave a short chuckle as she turned back to Harry who promptly pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back lightly before releasing her and muttering a soft goodbye.

“Goodbye Harry, I’ll see you around.” As she finished her sentence, she made her way to her side of the car but the sound of her voice had her turning back to the man who was still stood at the back of her car, granted more unsettled than when she had said goodbye, “Yes?” Her gentle answer seemed to calm him as his shoulders dropped slightly as the tension slowly fell out of them.

“I-I um, wanted to invite you to a garden party Nan’s having tomorrow.” He stuttered quietly, slowly taking a few steps to close the gap that had been created between them. Noting how Kimberly’s face reacted to his words and her mouth opened to respond - negatively he was sure, “I’m aware it’s late notice but Catherine would really love to see you there. She’s the one who urged me to invite you.”

Taking in a deep breath, Kimberly gave a stiff smile as his words raced around her head, trying to process them. Opening her mouth to state a response, she stumbled over her words before looking down at her feet for a moment, choosing to ignore the eyes that were glued onto her.

“Of course, I’d love to.” She responded, her head rising as she nodded at him. A smile flooded Harry’s face as his own mouth opened to respond but the sound of the car horn interrupted him followed by Jayne’s shout.

“Sorry to ruin the moment but we have melting ice in the back.” Before she shoved her head back into the car, prompting the two to say their goodbyes before she entered her car, giving him a wave as she drove away.

Kimberly caught Jayne up with what happened on the journey back, the blonde squealing as her friend spoke. It wasn’t until they arrived at the hall that she finally composed herself as she grabbed some of the wine and took it in, the boys taking over the minute they entered the building.

As the party drew to a close, the small group of friends sat together around one of the tables that still had an unopened bottle of champagne on it. Jayne, Kimberly and Josephine decked in their matching outfits and Richard, Daniel and Benjamin wearing their suits. Richard was cradling Kimberly to his chest as they all conversed in the quiet lull of leaving guests, who occasionally congratulated the couple before leaving.

“Guess who we ran into at the supermarket?” Jayne suddenly spoke, sitting up from her position between Josie’s legs, the redhead’s fingers slipping through the curls that had started to drop. Without giving anyone chance to answer, “Ginger Wales.” The statement caught everyone’s attention as Kimberly’s head dropped into Richard’s neck as she groaned. “And, wait for it, he invited Kimmi to a family garden party on Saturday. Tomorrow!”

“Did he Kim?” Daniel questioned, perking up from his seat and placing his flute glass on the table. A grunt came from Kim but her head didn’t move. Jayne nodded frantically before going on to talk to the others about the party much to Kimberly’s displeasure. A groan left the girl’s mouth, causing her friends to chuckle at her for a moment as she finally sat up, shaking her at her friends.

“You guys are unbelievable.”

“Well, forgive us for being happy for you, putting yourself out there again.” Josie teased, leaning over to give her friend a pinch on the cheek with a grin on her face.

“I’ll have you know that’s not what I’m doing at all.” She responded, picking up her flute and finishing the wine that was still inside as she got up from Richard’s lap ignoring her friends calls as she began picking up the fallen balloons off the floor.

Sitting at her vanity, Kimberly’s face was scrunched up as her friends rushed around her with different products in their hands, getting her ready. When she had called them earlier that day, she hadn’t expected to be bombarded with all of them which was exactly what she found when she opened her door when they had arrived. Jayne and Josie were doing her make up, talking between themselves but never asking Kimberly herself. Richard and Daniel had decided they were going to do her hair as they came armed with different hair products and curlers which sparked fear in Kim straight away. The choking clouds of hairspray quickly filled the room as the two got to work. Adam had disappeared in her closet hunting down for something for her to wear, muttering to himself occasionally as he looked at her clothes.

All the details of the garden party had been sent to her via message at about the same time she got home last night or should she say early morning and it was only then she realised she had never messaged him the recipe she had promised to, making a note to do that before falling asleep. Being urged into her bathroom and promptly passed her outfit for the day by Adam. Carefully pulling the dress on, avoiding smearing the makeup or pulling any of the curls out, she straightened out the dress. Gently stepping into the heels lying on the floor, she stared at herself in the mirror cocking her head to the side as she looked at her friends’ handiwork. She had a light face of makeup, her eyes having the most makeup on them, making them stand out. The curls gently bordered her face, falling down her shoulder and back in seamless waves. The blue floral dress that Adam had chosen, lightly hugged her chest and flared around her thighs, the colour matching that of the heels on her feet. Smiling at her reflection, she pushed the bathroom door open, revealing herself to her friends - finally feeling up to attending the party at all.

Pulling up outside, the nerves finally began to settle inside her once again as she turned to Adam sat in the driver’s seat. Smiling reassuringly at her, he simple placed a kiss on her hand before getting out the car to open her door. Helping her out, she gave him a hug, his lips pressing against her forehead. Adam gave her a small nudge before wishing her well. Smiling back at her friend, she took in a deep breath before walking up the steps and giving her name, disappearing off inside the gates.

Stopping immediately as the large backyard scene came into view, she could feel her palms get sweating and her heart speed up. Immediately catching sight of people she had only dreamed of meeting all socialising with one another not even 5 metres in front of her. Holding her breath, she scanned around looking for Harry hoping that he’d be able to give her even the slightest bit of comfort - even though he had a way of making her feel worse than she did at the moment. Feeling her breathing deepen, her eyes widening in fear, she turn on her spot on the patio, heading straight for the gates she had just come through, hoping Adam was still there. Before she could even take a step, a hand fell on her shoulder causing her to turn around, the beaming face of the Duchess of Cambridge filling her sight, making her feel calmer instantly.

“Hello,” She greeted, gently rubbing Kimberly’s shoulder as she spoke, “Don’t look so scared, they can sense fear.” She joked, guiding the girl deeper into the crowd of people, keeping a steady conversation going at all times.

“I see Harry convinced you to come,” A chuckle leaving her mouth, as she held onto the girl’s elbow, “I’m thrilled to see you here.”

“No, thank you for inviting. Harry said you’re the reason why he asked.”

“He did, did he?” She hummed, Kimberly nodding her head before they came to a halt. Kate reached over tapping one of the men by the barbeque gently by the shoulder. Hearing a slight mumbled excuse me, the Duke turned around to face the two women, a smile lighting up his face.

“Miss Stroakes! What a pleasure to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine your highness,” Her words had both Cambridges shaking their head and chuckling quietly.

“Just William and Kate is alright for this occasion. Your friends warned me you’re a stickler for formalities.” William stated, a warm smile on his face as he did so.

“Then it’s just Kimberly or any other variation of the name to you as well.” The royals smiled instantly, Kate’s smile growing if it could as she looked over Kimberly’s shoulder. Lifting her arm up and waving someone over as Kimberly got stuck in a conversation with William. It wasn’t until a figure stood behind that she turned her head away from the Duke. Turning around slowly, the younger Prince stood in front of her wearing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

“Take those off, there’s no sun around.” William reprimanded jokingly, as he looked at his brother.

“Look who I found trying to leave without saying goodbye.” Kate’s words had Kim’s eyes widening as she turned to face the brunette with an open mouth. The Duchess simply grinned at her in response before leading her husband back towards the barbeque.

“I apologise for them, they’re not usually like that.” Harry apologised, bringing a hand up to push the sunglasses so they sat on top of his head. Kimberly simply waved it off, saying her friends often acted the same way.

Offering her his arm, she held onto his elbow with her right hand, her left gripping onto her bag trying to keep a grip on reality as she was shown around the residence. Something about the whole thing excited her or more so something about Harry excited her, as she found her gaze falling to him rather than what she was being shown. As they emerged from the french doors, separating the garden and the house, Kate’s eyes fell on the two as they conversed at the edge of the crowd, the hand that held onto his arm never dropping not even when they sat down. A smile filled her face as she pointed William’s attention there as well.

“Would you like to meet the family?�� The question caught Kimberly off guard as she choked on her drink, placing the glass down as she looked directly at the Prince. Fear laced her face, Harry could see it causing him to take action. His free hand fell onto her free hand, his thumb rubbing circles onto the back of her hand redirecting her attention. “They’ll love you. It’s only be Dad, Zara and Mike who you don’t know, they’d be thrilled.”

“I-I don’t know…I mean, I’m not really…I can’t do that.” When Harry didn’t respond, her eyes rose from their hands to his face, catching the fading dejected face before closing her eyes and speaking quietly, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“You don’t-”

“I want to, I’ve always been a big equestrian fan, to meet Zara Tindall would be a dream come true plus I can rub meeting Mike Tindall in my brother’s face.” Laughing at what she said, Harry rose from his seat, their arms unlinking for the first time as he held a hand out to her and led her onto the grass heading for the picnic table where the aforementioned were sitting. Feeling her heart beat against her chest, she unconsciously gave Harry’s hand a squeeze receiving one back effectively calming her down slightly but missing the adoring look Harry gave her.

Zara had spotted the pair before they had reached the table, standing up and giving her cousin a hug. Letting go of Harry’s hand as she awkwardly stood off the side, watching the interaction, she spared a glance at the table, taking another deep breath.

“Where had you been? I’ve hardly seen you around today,” She stated before trailing off as her eyes fell on Kimberly, a smiled grew on her face as she moved over extending a hand to the girl, “I’m Zara, nice to meet you.”

“Kimberly, it’s wonderful to meet you too.” She responded, trying to contain her joy at the hand she held in her own. Harry’s hand rested on her lower back directing her forwards, throwing her mind into a jumble only catching the slight quiet exclamation from Zara.

“You never told me you knew Kimberly Stroakes.” As she sat down next to her husband, Harry pulling out a chair for Kimberly before taking one for himself.

“Dad this is Kimberly, Kimberly this is my dad.”

“It’s an honour to meet you, Your Highness.” She said, bowing her head slightly before looking up at the man,

“The honour’s mine young lady, I’ve heard a great deal about you.” Looking taken aback by his words, she looked over at Harry who looked heavily mortified before quickly introducing Mike and Kimberly.

“My brother is a huge fan, I know you very well. Probably too well.” The comment had the table of five laughing. Harry’s arm wrapped around Kimberly’s shoulder, giving her bare arms a little bit of warmth as the night began to creep in on them. The small group getting to know each other, the Cambridges occasionally dropping in and making an appearance before going to check that everything was running smoothly.

“It’s been great meeting you, Kimberly, I refrained from saying this earlier but I love hummingbird.”

“She does, she loves everything about it.” Mike pitched in, eliciting a chuckle from the girl as the couple linked hands.

“That’s wonderful. It’s been lovely meeting you as well. I’m sorry I have to leave so soon.”

“Don’t you worry about it, we’ll see each other again.”

“I certainly do hope so,” She stated genuinely as she stood next to the blonde who pulled her into a hug, quickly followed by Mike doing the same. Turning to face the Prince of Wales, Kimberly gave a small curtsy, thanking him before saying goodbye as she stood straight once again. Taking the arm offered to her, Kimberly took a step towards the gates she entered through until a hand fell upon her shoulder.

“Zara wouldn’t it be lovely if Kimberly joined us next weekend?” William’s voice came from over Kimberly’s head, turning to face the Duke who had appeared behind her.

“Of course, would you care to join us next weekend? We’re taking Mia riding for the first time and spending the weekend with the family.” Zara responded, the excitement growing on her face as she spoke, a sudden beam spreading over her lips as she made eye contact with Kate and winking subtly. “You can even stay at the villa with us all weekend.” Her words slowed down at the statement as she looked back over at in the younger girl. Stammering over her words, Kimberly bit her lip as she looked at the expectant faces before her before managing to get out a yes. At the single word, Zara handed the girl her phone to insert her number into before waving her off as Harry led her away from his family members.

“You don’t have to come just to please us.”

“I’m not-”

“I saw the deer in headlights expression before you agreed.”

“No, I want to. I quite like your family.”

“More than me?” He teased, as they reached the stairs, turning to face each other, smiling up at him, she gave a small shrug.

“I mean, Zara and Catherine are something special but I don’t think I like them more than you. Not yet anyway.” The redhead smiled down at her, their hands still joined as they looked at each other. The silence was broken by the sound of a car horn, drawing their attention to Kimberly’s car that pulled up where she was dropped off. Laughing lightly, she pulled her hand from him, thanking him quietly but before her hand could slip out, his grip tightened as he spoke.

“It was a pleasure, you better go before you catch a cold.” He murmured quietly to her, pulling her towards him and giving her a hug, kissing the curls atop her head before stepping away.

“You should too, don’t want you catching a cold.” She muttered back, smiling as she turned and went down the stair to the car. Entering it in silence, she gave a small wave to Harry as they drove away, a contented sigh leaving her lips, causing Adam to smile from the driver’s seat. His smile matching the one left on her face.

°•○♡○•°

chapter twelve is coming out tomorrow and then, hopefully I’ll be on posting a chapter every week until the story is over.

All My Love, Mac x

#royalfanficcentral #phff #prince harry #prince harry fanfiction #phffcentral #phff-authentic #authentic-phff

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authentic-phff · 7 years

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chapter eleven

Giving Jayne a sheepish smile a she came round the corner of the aisle she was down, she dropped her gaze the minute Jayne's eyes landed on the person behind her. Kimberly hurried forwards with the new ice standing by the till and loading it onto the conveyer belt as she looked back at her friend who's eyes were still locked on the ginger prince. Glancing over at Harry, who looked as though he was getting increasingly uncomfortable as his hand shifted its grip on the basket, Kim gently patted her friend's shoulder whispering for her to load the wine onto the conveyer belt as well. Slowly the blonde pulled her gaze away from the man, both girl's missing the relieved sigh that left his mouth as he went to the cash register beside theirs. Harry waited until the bulk buys of wine and ice had been processed offering to help them take the products to the car, despite her protests Harry took hold of the carrier bag in her hand, smiling down at her as he offered Jayne a hand with the cart as well but she simply waved him off, stepping ahead of the two.

A silence fell upon the both of them as they walked out of the supermarket and into the parking lot and in the direction of her car. The black range rover quickly came into view as she unlocked it and opened the back for him to place the bags he held in. Jayne had immediately placed the cases of wine, that were in the shopping cart, into the back seat securing them with the seat belt before settling into the passenger seat. As she shut the boot, she turned to thank Harry with a smile on her face, her hands finding her bracelet and slowly circling it around her wrist.

"Thank you so much for your help".

"It is I who should thank you for all your help with my dinner after all," He answered returning the shy smile on her face with a wide grin before it widen in realisation, "Which I'm not entirely sure what to do with all the ingredients."

"No I don't think you do, I don't appear to have any paper on me, do-" She paused for a moment, biting her lip before releasing almost as quickly in fear of ruining her make up. Summoning the courage within herself to continue the sentence, she brought her hand up to swipe a wavy lock of hair that had fallen out of place, "Do you have your phone on you? I'll text you the recipe."

A smile filled Harry's face as he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled the device out unlocking it before passing it over to her, mirroring his actions, she gently took a hold of his phone as she passed her own over to him. They exchanged numbers before they were left in a short silence until the car horn went off. Turning to glare lightly at Jayne, Kimberly gave a short chuckle as she turned back to Harry who promptly pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back lightly before releasing her and muttering a soft goodbye.

"Goodbye Harry, I'll see you around." As she finished her sentence, she made her way to her side of the car but the sound of her voice had her turning back to the man who was still stood at the back of her car, granted more unsettled than when she had said goodbye, "Yes?" Her gentle answer seemed to calm him as his shoulders dropped slightly as the tension slowly fell out of them.

"I-I um, wanted to invite you to a garden party Nan's having tomorrow." He stuttered quietly, slowly taking a few steps to close the gap that had been created between them. Noting how Kimberly's face reacted to his words and her mouth opened to respond - negatively he was sure, "I'm aware it's late notice but Catherine would really love to see you there. She's the one who urged me to invite you."

"Of course, I'd love to." She responded, her head rising as she nodded at him. A smile flooded Harry's face as his own mouth opened to respond but the sound of the car horn interrupted him followed by Jayne's shout.

"Sorry to ruin the moment but we have melting ice in the back." Before she shoved her head back into the car, prompting the two to say their goodbyes before she entered her car, giving him a wave as she drove away.

Kimberly caught Jayne up with what happened on the journey back, the blonde squealing as her friend spoke. It wasn't until they arrived at the hall that she finally composed herself as she grabbed some of the wine and took it in, the boys taking over the minute they entered the building.

"Guess who we ran into at the supermarket?" Jayne suddenly spoke, sitting up from her position between Josie's legs, the redhead's fingers slipping through the curls that had started to drop. Without giving anyone chance to answer, "Ginger Wales." The statement caught everyone's attention as Kimberly's head dropped into Richard's neck as she groaned. "And, wait for it, he invited Kimmi to a family garden party on Saturday. Tomorrow!"

"Did he Kim?" Daniel questioned, perking up from his seat and placing his flute glass on the table. A grunt came from Kim but her head didn’t move. Jayne nodded frantically before going on to talk to the others about the party much to Kimberly's displeasure. A groan left the girl's mouth, causing her friends to chuckle at her for a moment as she finally sat up, shaking her at her friends.

"You guys are unbelievable."

"Well, forgive us for being happy for you, putting yourself out there again." Josie teased, leaning over to give her friend a pinch on the cheek with a grin on her face.

"I'll have you know that's not what I'm doing at all." She responded, picking up her flute and finishing the wine that was still inside as she got up from Richard's lap ignoring her friends calls as she began picking up the fallen balloons off the floor.

Sitting at her vanity, Kimberly's face was scrunched up as her friends rushed around her with different products in their hands, getting her ready. When she had called them earlier that day, she hadn't expected to be bombarded with all of them which was exactly what she found when she opened her door when they had arrived. Jayne and Josie were doing her make up, talking between themselves but never asking Kimberly herself. Richard and Daniel had decided they were going to do her hair as they came armed with different hair products and curlers which sparked fear in Kim straight away. The choking clouds of hairspray quickly filled the room as the two got to work. Adam had disappeared in her closet hunting down for something for her to wear, muttering to himself occasionally as he looked at her clothes.

All the details of the garden party had been sent to her via message at about the same time she got home last night or should she say early morning and it was only them she realised she had never messaged him the recipe she had promised to. Being urged into her bathroom and promptly passed her outfit for the day by Adam. Carefully pulling the dress on, avoiding smearing the makeup or pulling any of the curls out, she straightened out the dress. Gently stepping into the heels lying on the floor, she stared at herself in the mirror cocking her head to the side as she looked at her friends' handiwork. She had a light face of makeup, her eyes having the most makeup on them, making them stand out. The curls gently bordered her face, falling down her shoulder and back in seamless waves. The blue floral dress that Adam had chosen, lightly hugged her chest and flared around her thighs, the colour matching that of the heels on her feet. Smiling at her reflection, she pushed the bathroom door open, revealing herself to her friends - finally feeling up to attending the party at all.

Pulling up outside, the nerves finally began to settle inside her once again as she turned to Adam sat in the driver's seat. Smiling reassuringly at her, he simple placed a kiss on her hand before getting out the car to open her door. Helping her out, she gave him a hug, his lips pressing against her forehead. Adam gave her a small nudge before wishing her well. Smiling back at her friend, she took in a deep breath before walking up the steps and giving her name, disappearing off inside the gates.

“I see Harry convinced you to come,” A chuckle leaving her mouth, as she held onto the girl’s elbow, “I’m thrilled to see you here.”

“No, thank you for inviting. Harry said you’re the reason why he asked.”

“Miss Stroakes! What a pleasure to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine your highness,” Her words had both Cambridges shaking their head and chuckling quietly.

“Just William and Kate is alright for this occasion. Your friends warned me you’re a stickler for formalities.” William stated, a warm smile on his face as he did so.

“Then its just Kimberly or any other variation of the name to you as well.” The royals smiled instantly, Kate’s smile growing if it could as she looked over Kimberly’s shoulder. Lifting her arm up and waving someone over as Kimberly got stuck in a conversation with William. It wasn’t until a figure stood behind that she turned her head away from the Duke. Turning around slowly, the younger Prince stood in front of her wearing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

“Take those off, there’s no sun around.” William reprimanded jokingly, as he looked at his brother.

“Would you like to meet the family?” The question caught Kimberly off guard as she choked on her drink, placing the glass down as she looked directly at the Prince. Fear laced her face, Harry could see it causing him to take action. His free hand fell onto her free hand, his thumb rubbing circles onto the back of her hand redirecting her attention. “They’ll love you. It’s only be Dad, Zara and Mike who you don’t know, they’d be thrilled.”

“I-I don’t know...I mean, I’m not really...I can’t do that.” When Harry didn’t respond, her eyes rose from their hands to his face, catching the fading dejected face before closing her eyes and speaking quietly, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“You don’t-”

“I want to, I’ve always been a big equestrian fan, to meet Zara Tindall would be a dream come true plus I can rub meeting Mike Tindall in my brother’s face.” Laughing at what she said, Harry rose from his seat, their arms unlinking for the first time as he held a hand out to her and led her onto the grass heading for the picnic table where the aforementioned were sitting. Feeling her heart beat against her chest, she unconsciously gave Harry hand a squeeze receiving one back effectively calming her down slightly but missing the adoring look Harry gave her.

“You never told me you knew Kimberly Stroakes.” As she sat down next to her husband, Harry pulling out a chair for Kimberly before taking one for himself.

“Dad this is Kimberly, Kimberly this is my dad.”

“It’s an honour to meet you, Your Highness.” She said, bowing her head slightly before looking up at the man,

“It’s been great meeting you, Kimberly, I refrained from saying this earlier but I love hummingbird.”

“She does, she loves everything about it.” Mike pitched in, eliciting a chuckle from the girl as the couple linked hands.

“That’s wonderful. It’s been lovely meeting you as well. I’m sorry I have to leave so soon.”

“Don’t worry about, we’ll see each other again.”

“Zara wouldn’t it be lovely if Kimberly joined us next weekend?” William’s voice came from over Kimberly’s head, turning to face the Duke who had appeared behind her.

“Of course, would you care to join us next weekend? We’re taking Mia riding for the first time and spending the weekend with the family, you can even stay at the villa with us all weekend.” Stammering over her words, Kimberly bit her lip as she looked at the expectant faces before her before managing to get out a yes. At the single word, Zara handed the girl her phone to insert her number into before waving her off as Harry led her away from his family members.

“You don’t have to come just to please us.”

“I’m not-”

“I saw the deer in headlights expression before you agreed.”

“No, I want to. I quite like your family.”

“More than me?” He teased, as they reached the stairs, turning to face each other, smiling up at him, she gave a small shrug.

“It was a pleasure, you better go before you catch a cold.” He murmured quietly to her, pulling her towards him and giving her a hug, kissing the curls atop her head before stepping away.

This is a long one and it’s long awaited! Also HAPPY NEW YEAR! I had a thrill writing this chapter, I just loved it and I hope you guys enjoy it. If there’s anything you want to see, have to say or any feedback you want to tell don’t hesitate to do so. I would love some feedback on how to improve.

See You Next Chapter, -Mac x

#phff #prince harry #prince harry fanfiction #prince harry fan fic #prince harry ff #prince harry imagine #authentic-phff #phffcentral #royalfanficcollection #[ chapter ]#[ authentic ]

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