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yniswaifu · 3 years

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1. Suna

You exit the booming nightclub through the emergency exit, wanting to escape the loud music. Nothing about it was YOU. And yet, here you are.

You see a tall shadow already occupying the other side of the wall, their shoulders hunched as if they were hiding their activity from the outside world. But well, what did you know. Everyone has stories – just like you did when you decided to take up your friend's advice for a 'good distraction'.

What's so good about it? You think as you close the door behind you, the music fading in the background.

After you're out in the open you see the person. It was a man. A very, very pretty man.

His eyes were downcast on the phone in his hand. The hair reflected the neon lights above his head, and the outfit – a hoodie and some sweats from what you could see in the dark alley if you squint made him look broad. From what you could make out in that split second checkout session, he had a great side profile.

He could have been a good eye candy were you not in a sour mood.

But not today handsome.

Sighing, you turn away. You were regretting everything. And the nightclub trip wasn't at the top of the list. You shuffle inside your jacket pocket, to reveal a pack of cigarettes. Again nothing about it was you. Then why were you doing it? Because it's a 'good distraction'.

"smoking is bad." you were in the middle of lighting the white tobacco stick when the voice spoke to you.

You stop midway, slowly lifting your eyes to see the possible eye candy looking at you with a blank face. His eyes were slanted, almost fox like. Heck, he almost resembled a fox. But boy was he attractive. And popular.

You weren't unfamiliar with sports. In fact, you quite enjoyed watching sports as a pass time. So this man, who was telling about smoking, Suna Rintaro himself, was no stranger to you.

But you weren't in a mood to either ask for an autograph or talk to anyone. If you were, you wouldn't have left your friend behind in the club to come here. So you certainly weren't going to talk to him.

Suna kept looking at you, expecting a reply perhaps. But what you did even shook you to the core.

You looked right in his eyes and took a smoke.

Of course, the plan backfired.

A rough round of cough threatened to leave your lips and you immediately turn to the other side, trying to be discreet about the failed mission. You were expecting him to laugh, or scoff, something remotely snarky, but there was no sound. Curious, you slowly turn back, peeping at Suna from under your lashes to see him look at you with...confusion?

"what is it?" you ask him, your voice barely audible.

Shaking his head, the six feet something fully turned towards your direction and stood straight, with his hands crossed.

"do you seriously have so much tragedy in your life that you'll resort to" he directs his head towards to the cigarette, "this?"

You looked at him baffled. Was this guy always this nice? As far as you remembered him, he always has a poker face. He didn't talk much during interviews either. But he was a great player, and the crowd cheered like crazy whenever he would block those super strong spikes. So what's with this extempore counselling session?

Laughter bubbled out of you, looking at the situation. Here you are, standing in the back alley of some nightclub, talking about life with a famous sportsman.

Suna waited for you to finish laughing. If anything, he kinda felt glad you laughed. Because the moment he saw you, and your eyes, he couldn't grasp the fact that someone could have such sorrow in them. He didn't even have to go under proper lighting to know that you were here to distract yourself. Including the pack of cigarettes you took out of your pocket. Suna was a sportsman, and health was something he always had to take care of. So he couldn't stand seeing someone else try to ruin their health just for some temporary relief. It was so not worth it.

You slump against the wall, your laughter dying down. He was right. You couldn't deny that. These things will only give you temporary satisfaction.

"I'm sorry." you say, smiling because you're suddenly high on adrenaline and pumped for this heart-to-heart. You don't know why, but you felt you could just go bare in front of this man. And he wouldn't say a thing. Moreover, you didn't have anything better to do. And it seemed like Suna didn't either because he too leaned against the wall, making himself comfortable.

"that's fine. I'm sorry too. Didn't mean to be so rude and abrupt." he says.

And he's polite, you think.

"nah. It's fine. By the way, I don't smoke."

"that I can see. So? Why did you do it?"

You look at Suna for a minute before looking to the front. "boy problems."

Before he could even say anything, you start laughing again. Adrenaline or not, you definitely seemed high on something.

"can you imagine? I'm resorting to these methods because some stupid person decided to dump me." you continue, your voice bitter.

Suna was silent. You turn to see him looking at you with an emotion you couldn't quite understand. He was frowning, but he didn't look mad or anything.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you ask him, a little flustered because come on, it was Suna Rintaro and he is staring at you so intensely.

"I don't understand..."

You tilt your head at this statement, confused. You expected him to roll his eyes and leave, which you didn't want, but he had better things to do than listen to you talk about this.

At least that's what you thought before his reaction.

"was it your fault that he broke up with you?" he asks after some time.

Was it? You don't remember. You always did everything, even went out of your way to make your partner happy. You sacrificed so much. Then why? Why did he break up with you and didn't even say the reason? What were you missing? Why couldn't you make him happy?

So many questions, and to think the break up happened over text. You hadn't even gotten a chance to resolve this because all you can think about is — distracting yourself from the issue will somehow make everything better.

Suddenly the vibe surrounding you both dropped certain degrees. The question that Suna hit you with brought the memories and words back like a big wave, and suddenly you felt like you were drowning. It was suffocating, overwhelming, and your hands shook beside you. But you didn't move. The therapist you consulted, in other words Google, had advised you to take deep breaths when you are hyperventilating. So you did just that.

You hadn't realized that during your moment, Suna had already come by your side, rubbing your back in a soothing motion, whispering words that you didn't quite catch. But it was something between 'breathe' and 'it's fine'. It's like your ears were blocking his voice and everything else.

Slowly, you return to your senses. It was so embarrassing, but you were grateful Suna caught you before you fell deeper.

"thank you" you tell him, moving his hand away.

Suna backs up the moment you stand straight, his hands beside him. "no problem. I'm sorry for asking it."

You sigh. "it's not your fault. I just...I'm sorry for this. You shouldn't see me like this."

"you couldn't help it. It's okay. We don't have to talk about it."

You don't reply immediately. After a few deep breaths, you calm down, then look at Suna. His expression neutral, with hints of worry. "it's not something I did. Or...maybe I did." you decide to answer his question. "I...I don't know. It's just, I thought I could forget it. But you know what they say, first love isn't easy to forget."

Suna just nods in understanding. "I guess it isn't."

Both of you fall into silence. Suna observes that you need to calm down, and he felt he shouldn't pry more. First of all, the words he had spoken were something no one tells a stranger. And Suna wasn't the type to do it at all. In fact, this whole encounter was surreal to him. All he wanted was to call home but the restaurant across the street was filled with Bokuto's loud ass and he wanted some peace and quiet to talk. So he came here, in the quite place and then you exited the club. The rest is history.

"so..." he starts off, unsure what to say.

"so, I hope you have a goodnight Suna." you reply, smiling at him. This was enough for the prompt therapy session.

Suna's eyes widen for a moment before they go back to normal. He had almost forgotten he was a national player and that people will recognize him. He returns your smile and you were dazed by that smile. Well I'll be darned, is what went in your head.

Shaking off the thoughts, you wave at him before turning to return to the club and inform your friend that you want to go home. You were never a party person and you certainly ain't gonna change now.

That's when Suna interrupts you and goes, "do you...maybe wanna exchange numbers?"

What compelled him to do that? Even he himself didn't know. He asked for your number before even asking your name. He asked for your number when all he did was help you from passing out because he triggered bad memories.

But he wouldn't want to take back this moment. In this moment, your vulnerability resonated through him. It's not he's had first love or any serious relationship, but seeing you like this, made him curious and cautious. Do people really spiral down when they lose what they hold on to tightly? Do expectations hurt this much? Because he wouldn't know. He never expects much from anyone.

Perhaps it was some repressed saviour complex inside him, or the fact that you looked beautiful even when you were breathless. Or that when he held you up, he didn't feel like letting you go and was disappointed when you moved him away. He just felt a certain attraction towards you. It didn't hurt to act upon that feeling right?

You stop in your tracks. The gears in your brain turn, and you went into a deep thought. Finally, you look at the hopeful guy in front of you.

"sorry Suna. I really appreciate you talking to me, but I can't do this. I'm still not over him." you say, your voice solemn.

A flicker of disappointment passes his eyes, you notice. You felt bad for doing this. But you had to. Because from what you saw tonight, Suna didn't deserve someone like you. He was a great guy, who should go for a great girl.

That's why you had to do this. But you also wanted to be clear about how you reciprocated the attraction. The timing is wrong. So you walk up to him, and place your hands on his cheeks. "I need to get over him before I come to you. Because you are more than just a random stranger at this point. I mean, you saw me at my worst and it's not even been an hour since I met you. And if we start this, we do it the right way. So I can't just brush you off just like that. That's why I'm asking you – will you wait for me?"

Your words were sincere, but does Suna believe that? Not really. For him, it was a clear no. In a nice way.

Nodding, he looks away, probably regretting this with every bone in his body. But your words still held onto him like an anchor. How long did he have to wait for you? His whole life? Surely you didn't expect him to do that. So you thought of a better way to reject him. And guess what, it worked.

"right. Have a goodnight then." he says and walks off hurriedly. You watch his figure disappear off the corner, and you close your eyes shut to assure yourself.

This was for the best.

***

Suna waited.

He said he wouldn't, he said he will do everything in order to forget about you. But he waited. Somewhere in him he hoped you actually asked him to wait, and that you were going to come to him, with a smile reserved only for him. That you would go lengths for him and that he will replace the first love you had.

So he waited. He was glad he did.

Because there you were, standing in front of him. Your face looked better, healthier, and you were smiling. Your eyes that once held sorrow and pain was looking content in this very moment.

He walked up to you, his breath visible in the cold winter evening. It had been almost six months when he last saw you. He never expected to see you standing outside his apartment complex when he was going to the convenient store to get groceries. And you had changed so much in that time. Beautiful nonetheless.

As soon as he was close enough to see your orbs soaking in his figure, Suna slowly exhales. "how did you know where I live?"

You laugh at his question. Well, he ain't wrong. You did pop out of nowhere.

"I have my ways." you say, a sly smirk forming on your lips.

Gosh, how much you had changed. You're even making jokes now.

"I asked my friend. She works for the paparazzi." you answer truthfully after some time.

Suna's eyes widen. "dang. Then I better stay away. Who knows where you are hiding your friend now." he jokes, looking around.

You giggle at his words when you see him looking at you with a soft expression. You know what he was thinking, but chose not to say anything. You stepped closer to him, your fingertips almost brushing with his. Your breaths mixed together as you continued to stare at each other.

Suddenly Suna's eyes flash with worry. "are you sure you're over him?"

You knew he'd be worried. You wanted to make sure you finish everything you held onto before moving forward. So you went back, and talked it out with your ex. Truth was, both of you had fallen out of love. But you realize that much later. And when you did, you felt terrible to push away the only guy you saw a potential future with. So you got to work. You fixed your life, fixed your relationships, and fixed your head space. When you felt yes this is it, you asked your friend for Suna's address. Of course, she was curious at first. But when you answered that you like him, without any explanation to be exact, the friend didn't even bother asking for details. She knew how much the previous relationship hurt you, and seeing you moving on was enough reason to give you Suna's address.

"yes. I have no lingering feelings left. I never did actually. But I knew I had to fix myself before I move forward. So that's what I did. And here I am." You shrug.

The man in front of sighs in relief. Suddenly, he rests his forehead on your shoulders, fingers intertwined with yours. "took you long enough." his voice but a loving whisper.

You tighten the grip on his fingers, his cold hands in your warm ones. "but you waited."

A smile forms on his lips. "but I waited."

I'm going through an Inarizaki phase guys. Please bear with me. Also, can you tell I have a special place for Suna in my heart? Because I do. I felt Suna needed a serious scenario, one where he's actually mature and don't just look bored with life. I mean, grown up Suna would definitely be more in touch with his emotions. Yeah. So I did that. It's a bit on the sad side, but the ending is happy enough I guess? I'm sorry if you didn't feel like it. I tried.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #suna imagines #suna x reader

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triptuckers · 3 years

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Two Homes (part 1/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: nope! Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: you live in Ketterdam, and your life is alright. things get excited however, when you receive royal mail Warnings: none Word count: 2K A/N: first time doing a (mini) series and I am ✨ nervous ✨ but this idea has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m planning on writing seven parts :) enjoy reading! PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST: @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling add yourself to my tag lists here

You would always be torn between leaving Ketterdam, and staying in the city. You have a good life, it’s comfortable. Given that your father is one of the wealthiest merchants of the city, you could basically get anything you wanted. You had more money than you could possibly spend in one lifetime.

But still, you weren’t happy. Your father may have a lot of kruge, he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold. All your life you’ve known him as a greedy, rude and unfair man. You’d give up all of your kruge in a blink of an eye if you could trade it for a different life.

Your friends didn’t understand. They told you to be grateful. That many would kill to live in a mansion like you do, and to have the amounts of money your family has. But you had learned wealth doesn’t always mean happiness.

For years, you watched as your father treated people like garbage, simply because they didn’t have enough money in his eyes. He’d blackmail people, or worse. You couldn’t stand it.

Which is why you decided to join the Dregs a couple of years ago. In secret, of course. Your father doesn’t know. You took every precaution necessary to prevent him from finding out. You’d rather not find out all the things he’d be capable of.

With the help of the Crows, you’d been stealing small bits of your father’s fortune. You either give it to the Dregs or transfer it to your own personal bank account, one your father didn’t have access to.

To keep your identity a secret, only a few Dregs know your true identity. You use a fake name and whenever you’re at the Crow Club or the Slat, you wear your hood pulled down as low as possible, hiding your face from curious eyes. All precautions because you know all too well what gang members would do with a rich merchant’s daughter.

You like hanging out at the Crow Club. Mostly because the Crows don’t treat you like a merchant’s daughter. They treat you like, well, Y/N. To them, you’re one of their own. And you’re glad they’re your friends.

The Crow Club is also a place where you can relax. At home, you’re always on your toes, keeping a close eye on your father. He had the annoying habit of marching into your room unannounced. When you told him you wanted a lock on your door, he merely laughed it away.

So, yes, you’d prefer the Crow Club full of thieves, gamblers and other criminals to the mansion you live in.

Of course, your father doesn’t know you spend most of your time at the Club. You take longer walks, you make sure you’re not followed, and conceal your face whenever you make your way to the Barrel.

Once inside the Club, you walk to your usual table, and there’d always be someone around to join you.

Right now, you’re sitting at the table with Nina and Jesper. Enjoying a drink and a game of cards. You’re happy to be amongst your friends, laughing at their jokes and beating them at cards.

You look up when you see a familiar redhead approach your table.

‘Hi Wylan!’ you say as you enthusiastically wave at him. Wylan smiles at you as he sits down next to Jesper. Jesper raises his hand at the bartender to order another round of drinks as Wylan shrugs off his coat.

‘I’ve got something for you.’ says Wylan, while looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows in question as you finish your drink. ‘Watch out, Jesper, I might steal your boyfriend.’ you chuckle.

‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ says Jesper, reaching out and pulling Wylan's chair closer to his own, making Wylan blush.

‘He’s going to ask me out on a date, I can see it on his face.’ you say, failing to keep a straight face.

‘What? No!’ says Wylan, looking from you to Jesper. ‘No, I’m not asking you out on a date, I’ve got a letter for you.’

You frown. ‘You’ve got a letter for me?’ you say. ‘Why wasn’t it just delivered to my house?’

‘I don’t know.’ says Wylan. ‘Someone stopped me in the street and told met to give it to you. They said it was urgent.’

‘How did they know you knew where to find me?’ you ask him as you take your new drink the bartender passes you.

Wylan shrugs. ‘I don’t know. She had a pretty heavy Ravkan accent, though. I tried to read the address to confirm it was yours, but I couldn't.’ he says. You notice a slight blush on his cheeks, but ignore it.

‘Is the letter from Ravka as well?’ you say.

‘I think so.’ says Wylan, finally pulling the letter out of his coat pocket. ‘I mean, it’s got a pretty distinctive seal on the back of it.’

Before you can ask him anything else, Jesper snatches the letter out of Wylan’s hand, looking at it.

‘Why would a Ravkan send you a letter?’ he chuckles, flipping the envelope around in his hands. When his eyes fall on the seal, they widen. ‘Correction.’ says Jesper, while looking at you. ‘Why would a Lantsov send you a letter?’

Now your eyes widen as well. ‘What?’ you say. ‘That has to be some kind of joke.’

You lean over the table and take the envelope out of Jesper’s hands. You take another sip of your drink as you look at the seal on the back of it. Indeed, the Lantsov double eagle is on it.

‘Nina.’ you say, turning to her next to you and handing her the envelope so she can look at it as well. ‘Do you have any idea as to why your king would send me a letter?’

Nina looks at the seal as well, running a finger over it. ‘I don’t know.’ she says. ‘But this looks like a legitimate seal, though. It’s on the ones I get as well. I don’t get a lot of them, but I do recognise that seal. This isn’t a fake.’

She hands it back to you and your flip it over in your hand. When you look up, you see all three of your friends looking at you.

‘Why would he send me a letter, though?’ you wonder out loud. ‘And how does he even know I exist? Or where to find me?’

‘Well, after all, you are a merchant’s daughter.’ says Jesper.

‘Shh!’ you quickly say. ‘We’re still in the Crow Club, Jes!’

Jesper quickly apologises, looking around to see if anyone heard him. But the people around you are too caught up in their own drinks and games to have heard anything you were saying.

‘But why would the king of Ravka keep track of Kerch merchants? He only approaches the merchant council for loans. And if he needs to contact them, he sends letters directly to the members of the council.’ you say.

‘Well, you won’t know until you open it.’ says Nina. ‘Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t even know you.’

‘You’ve got a point.’ you say. ‘And I can’t deny I'm curious.’

Slowly, you open the envelope, pulling out a short letter. You’re well aware of all of their eyes on you as you read the message.

“Dear miss Y/F/N Y/L/N,

My name is Nikolai Lantsov (as you probably would have guessed upon seeing the wax seal on the envelope), I’ll spare the ink and not name all of my titles. Though my triumvirate would like me to.

I am writing you to tell you I am hosting a ball, one week from now, at the Grand Palace in Os Alta, Ravka. You are hereby invited to attend said ball, at the end of which I will choose a bride.

I await your response, and I promise there will be good wine.

Yours sincerely,

King Nikolai Lantsov, of Ravka”

You read the letter over and over again, trying to get the words to sink in. Nikolai Lantsov himself wrote you an invitation. To a ball at the Grand Palace. And he’d choose a bride. Someone to be his queen.

You snort and throw the letter on the table.

‘Well, that was interesting to read.’ you say.

Jesper moves to pick up the letter, but Nina is faster. Wylan and Jesper lean in closer, and she softly reads the letter out loud. You see looks of surprise and confusion on their faces as Nina reads the letter.

When she’s done, they all look at you in confusion. You chuckle and take the letter from Nina’s hands, folding it and tucking it in your pocket.

‘Do you think I could sell this to the highest bidder?’ you say. ‘It’s got an authentic Lantsov signature on it.’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’ says Jesper.

You look at him. ‘You don’t seriously think I’ll go?’ you say.

‘Duh!’ says Jesper. ‘Why not? Y/N, this is a king. And he’s inviting you to a ball. You could become queen!’

‘I have no intention of becoming queen.’ you say, finishing your drink. ‘Besides, I don’t want to leave Ketterdam.’

‘I bet Os Alta is a whole lot nicer than Ketterdam, though.’ says Wylan.

‘And have a servant do every little thing for me? Eat the finest food all day every month? Go to balls and war meetings? No thank you.’ you say.

‘Why do you talk about it as if it’s a bad thing?’ says Wylan.

‘Because I told you, I have no intention of going to a ball and becoming queen. If you’re asking me, I think writing that letter was a waste of ink and paper.’ you tell them. ‘Besides, if he’s smart, he’s going to marry a Fjerdan or Shu princess to establish an alliance. Even if I wanted to go, there’s no way he’d pick an ordinary Kerch merchant’s daughter to be his queen.’

‘A word of advice?’ says Nina.

You look at her and motion for her to keep on talking.

‘I’ve met Nikolai several times. He’s a good man. Would it really be that bad to even attend? You’re not agreeing to marrying him, you’re just going to a ball. Why not give him a chance?’ she says.

‘Because I think balls are a waste of time. And money. And simply because I don’t want to play dress up and act like a perfect daughter.’ you say, getting up and putting on your coat.

‘At least think about it?’ says Nina.

‘For your sake, I will.’ you say. ‘I’ll even pretend like I haven’t made my decision yet.’

‘It’ll be great for your reputation!’ says Jesper as you move through the crowd toward the door.

‘I’m not going to Os Alta!’ you yell at him over your shoulder. When you’re at the door, you wave goodbye at them and head outside. It’s a particular cold night, and you wrap your coat tighter around you and pull your hood further down.

Somehow the invitation feels like lead as it sits in your pocket. So Nikolai Lantsov himself invited you to the Grand Palace. Though you’re flattered, you’ve already made up your mind.

You’re not going to Os Alta. After all, what could be waiting for you there that you couldn’t find in Ketterdam? You’ve got very good friends here, plenty of kruge, and you live in a mansion.

Surely Os Alta couldn’t offer you more than that?

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#is this what the invitations said??? I have no idea #do I care? no. am I gonna get the book to see if there is a written invitation in there? also no I'm gonna freestyle it #I'm so excited to write this !!!#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfics #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

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yuzukult · 3 years

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from home 02 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: ;n; wishing this was longer than i made it... please expect the next one to take a bit of time! but you never know. i’m unpredictable.

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2

← previous chapter || next chapter →

Waking up on an unfolded futon is no comparison to a deluxe California King bed with pearly white satin sheets.

For one, it meant that he wasn’t actually on the futon itself rather on the floor instead. Jungkook has been having an exertion amount of time trying to not fall off the limited dimensions of his now mattress. In addition to that, even after going grocery shopping, he feels like he’s spending an endless amount of money on a daily just to keep his fridge stocked because every time he pulls that door open— there’s nothing in the fridge. How is that even possible?

At times like these, he missed the personal chef. Sure, he couldn’t remember the gentleman’s name, but he made a mean grilled cheese sandwich. Instead, Jungkook enjoys a sad and limp piece of string cheese for breakfast.

For once, he’s grateful that the distance from home to work is short, really being an approximate 10 minute walk, meaning that he didn’t need to take an Uber or possibly buy a car? How did poor people transport from one place to another? He thinks of you on his route to work; the things you yelled at him the night on Hoseok’s yacht, how he purely innocently asked if he could pay for your future endeavors and the reaction he pulled from you that could only be described to be full of resentment. You really didn’t like him.

True be told, the feeling of hatred is mutual.

Jungkook dreads coming into work, mostly because the sight of you is a constant and the current impression he has of you is that you’re just plain mean and bossy. He hates that whenever he’s in the midst of a task, you manage to always slide in to critique every action he performs. How old did you think he was? Some thirteen year old with an adult job? While at the end of the line at the cashier’s station, Jungkook places the bread at the bottom of the brown bag but before he’s ready to drop the jug of milk on top, you shove his hand away. “You’re going to flatten the bread if you do it like that. Heavier duty items are at the end of the pile. Lighter and fragile items on top.” He scowls. Or when he’s in the parking lot, while lost in his thoughts, he nearly propels one of the carts directly into a moving car, and surprisingly enough, you’re standing outside beside him, swooping in with your fingers wrapped around the handlebars with sweat dripping from your forehead while halting the motions. “You almost dented that guy’s car!” He wants to tell you ‘and so what?’ but he refrains from saying anything because when he turns to look at you, you’re already halfway down the lot, making your way back indoors.

Then when he’s stacking the canned goods on the shelves, you approach him from behind and tell him that he’s doing it incorrectly. “What’s wrong about putting stuff on shelves?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “The labels aren’t facing out. How are the customers supposed to know what it is?”

“Turn the can around?” He says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, so do it.”

When you walk away, he’s tempted to grab the canned corn he’s restocking and chuck it at the back of your head, but he holds himself back. This is for his mom, for the development of himself, to prove to his brothers that he wasn’t just some useless, spoiled kid. You didn’t believe in him anyway which is probably why you’re being so difficult— oh how he wished he could ask for a replacement trainer. So why waste his time trying to please you when he really just needs to sway his parents? The main goal is to get the money back into his pockets anyway.

Once finishing his list of tasks, he advances toward Hoseok who’s in the middle of mopping a spill in one of the aisles. Apparently, someone had dropped a jar of pickles, filling up the place with the stench of vinegar, scrunching up Jungkook’s nose. “Is she always this mean?”

Hoseok glances up from the pile of pickles on the ground, chin resting on the handle of the mop, discouraged to clean the mess. “Who?”

Jungkook skims the area to confirm that the coast is clear before he whispers your name discreetly. “I feel like she’s looking over my shoulder 24/7. It’s like she’s out to get me. Maybe she wants to catch me doing something stupid and get me fired.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes in response before finally crouching down to throw the scattered pickles into the trash bin beside him. “No, she doesn’t. You’re her responsibility, so if any higher ups saw you fucking around or fucking up and find out that she’s the one who’s supposed to train you, she’d lose her job. She can’t afford that, Kook.” Jungkook sighs, observing Hoseok as he’s trying to gently pick up the piece of glass that’s drenched in the juices. “Well? Are you just going to stand there and watch after what I just told you? Help me!”

Abiding by instruction, Jungkook still sighs heavily, bending his knees to grab the pickles cautiously between his index finger and thumb. This is rancid, and the way his face contorts in disgust when he flings it into the trash can says it all. He can’t believe that he’s in this position right now when he could be sitting in the middle of a golf course on a Wednesday morning, enjoying his fifth glass of merlot, with a pretty girl by his side, complimenting him every time he swings his golf club. “I miss the rich life. I don’t know how you do this everyday. Is this even worth it for you?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he grabs the last piece of glass on the floor as Jungkook tosses a handful of pickles he grabbed previously. “I just didn’t want my parents controlling where the money was going anymore. And I got tired of being called a prodigal. I wanted to be someone who could do things themselves without having my parents giving me money.”

“But how could you hate that! Isn’t that their job as parents? Taking care of you, giving you more than you need? That includes money. We’re just lucky because our parents are rich.”

Standing up from his position, Hoseok brushes his hands off on his apron as Jungkook follows in suit. “But that’s what I mean. Do you hear yourself? The ‘we’re just lucky because our parents are rich’ thing is getting old. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be just as rich but I want to be wealthy myself, not because my parents gave me the means to be.”

Hoseok makes a point but not one that Jungkook can fully grasp onto. He understood where the older male was coming from, but truth be told, Jungkook still wanted his parents’ wealth in the end. Hoseok had dreams he was chasing, ones where cutting ties from his parents would be beneficial but to Jungkook, he didn’t have any aspirations of his own to obtain like that.

“Anyway, I digress. She means well. She needs this and that café job too. Her parents don’t have any type of money, if anything, she purposely cut herself off from them so that they wouldn’t have to pay for her. Moving back home is her personal embarrassment, just like how being kicked out of your home is yours.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Hoseok pulls his lips into a tight line, dropping the mop into the bucket to extract the vinegary liquid out. “Work with it. Be better than what she’s asking for. I learned a lot from her and I’m sure you can too. Who knows? Maybe she’ll pick a couple things from you along the way.”

That’s when he tests the waters.

For the past two hours, that’s exactly what Jungkook does. He tries. Harder than usual. When you walk by, he is especially polite to customers with the brightest smile his cheeks will allow. Or when he’s back to organizing cans on the shelves, he’s attempting to show all the labels, but you’re back, questioning why he’s even stacking cans with dents in them. Then there’s the time he’s standing at the station for the self-checkout... but he gets distracted while playing on his phone and you nearly smack the living shit out of him.

“Why do you freaking hate me so much?” He exasperates, arms dropping at his sides from frustration. The shift is finally over, thank god, but he’s still on edge as to why you always have something to say, so he chases after you into the locker room. “All you do is attack me the entire day and it’s already difficult for me to adjust to being here.”

“Listen, I get it. It’s hard. Well, I don’t really get it because I’ve been working most of my life, but this is completely new territory for you. Regardless, you still have to learn how to do this, Jungkook. Your parents aren’t going to be supporting you anymore.” Wrong. Wrong because in his mind, his parents are going to welcome him with open arms when he proves his capabilities. This situation is only temporary. “So, I want to help you. If you really need anything, here’s my number. Call me.”

“Is this a way for you to get my number?” Jungkook raises a brow suggestively. Clicking your tongue, you circle back into your locker, grabbing your bag of items. “Trust me, you would’ve known if I wanted to get in your pants. Plus, I’m giving you my number, not asking for yours, dumbass.” Flinging a crumpled piece of paper at his forehead that so happens to have your number on it, he pouts after rubbing his head. “Rude.”

“Jungkook,” You’re speed walking out of the supermarket with Jungkook trailing behind you as quickly as he can keep up with. Did you run track before? “I really don’t want to hear your excuses about why you were snooping on me while I was changing my shirt.” He didn’t see you changing, he merely caught a glimpse, but even so, it was only a bit of your tummy that he saw.

Nonetheless, he knows you’re just joking because of the light laughter that escapes from your lips afterwards that sounds like the melody of his favorite song. Maybe you weren’t so bad after all. Maybe it was just a facade you had to put up at work most of the time. “I wasn’t—“

“Jungkook.”

You freeze at the sound of his name; Jungkook’s reaction is delayed as he bumps into you from behind while his head turns to the voice. “Jungsik Hyung.”

Jeon Jungsik. Also labeled as the 3rd child or middle son of the Jeon Family. He’s known to be the philanthropist, the humanitarian of the Jeons, donating his percentage of the earnings from his family’s corporation to a different charity each time he’s the headline of an article. Jungsik in person is even more handsome than the pictures you’ve googled online; simply breathtakingly beautiful just like his personality and heart. Undercut hair with a navy blue suit that compliments his figure, he has a clean appearance with a demeanor that is nothing more than a calm and gentle nature. Despite all the greatness he possessed, he unfortunately had to go through the loss of his late wife, who the doctors had discovered she had cancer, later choosing to spend her last days in Africa, teaching the children English.

You may have looked up the prettiest Jeon brother on every search engine on a random Tuesday night, sitting on the floor with your laptop perched on the coffee table, glass of moscato in hand. Dating a guy like him would be a dream— yet, there you were, getting shit-faced drunk on moscato with a mud mask that was hardening on your face.

Your thoughts are interrupted at the tail end of Jungkook’s introduction between you and his brother, bowing abruptly at the realization. “... She works here. Currently occupied with training me.”

Jungsik grins, pearly whites blinding your eyes. “Admirable. Thank you for looking out for our little Kook. He’s not the best at working, so I figure he must’ve made things difficult for you.”

“Occasionally,” You joke, replicating the contagious smile on his face. “But don’t worry, Jungkook will get there. Once his training portion is over, I’m sure he’ll manage.” That’s not what you said at Hoseok’s yacht, is what he wants to say, but definitely not in front of the angelic brother. Jungsik chuckles deeply at your response, tips of his ears flushing pink at your interactions, and it makes Jungkook cringe.

“That’s great. I’m sure that you two have had a long day, so is there any way I can treat you guys to dinner?”

You can feel Jungkook’s hot breath down your neck, fuming with anger with smoke probably whistling out of his ears. “Why, why, why did you agree for us to have dinner with Jungsik? This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me!” He whispers aggressively beside you but you only ignore his reaction by flipping another piece of pork on the grill. “And why the hell would you suggest coming to this dump? He said he would take us out to a five-star restaurant!”

Admittingly so, a Korean BBQ joint located in some-what of an alleyway is far from a fancy restaurant, but this place was good, your favorite, and why not introduce Jungsik and Jungkook to food that doesn’t need caviar for it to be considered delicious?

Jungsik excused himself, looking kind of out of place in this low-ceiling location, but he forced a smile anyway before looking for the bathroom. “We can just tell him that we have to go or that you’re not feeling so well. He’ll let us make a run for it, trust me.”

You glance over at Jungkook. “You can do that. I’m staying.”

“But why!”

“Because he seems nice.” You’re adding more meat on the grill again. “Plus, I’m starving. I was going to come here anyway.” Jungkook pauses, watching as you casually maneuver the food with the prongs. “... You were going to eat alone?”

Dropping the prongs, you pick up your set of chopsticks to grab yourself a piece of kimchi. “Well, yeah. Who else am I supposed to eat with?” You shake your head, jumping back on topic. “If you want to leave, feel free. I’m still going to be here.”

“Hell no. I’m not leaving you with Jungsik hyung.”

Tilting your head with narrowed eyes, you blink. “What’s wrong with Jungsik? He’s literally an angel. Like I actually can’t believe that you guys are brothers.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip anxiously as if he’s holding back. “I just think he’s not a good guy. So I’ll stay.”

“Sorry I took so long,” Jungsik places his blazer on the seat beside him, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up. “I just needed to wash up. So... how long have you been working at my mother’s supermarket?”

You hum in thought, counting the months from when you first started. It was during University, possibly around the time you were starting your second year... “Probably around three years? And the café... maybe two? I think I’m approaching two.”

Jungsik’s mouth gaps open. “Wait, you work at my mother’s café as well?” Nodding in response, you place a couple of the meats onto Jungsik’s plate as Jungkook eyes you carefully. “Tuition doesn’t pay itself. And I plan to start a business one day, so two jobs is the only way to get to that finish line.”

“I—I offered to pay,” Jungkook interjects into the conversation, feeling like he’s the third wheel suddenly. “I told her she didn’t need to work the two jobs and I’d help her pay for the bakery.” That’s when Jungsik’s gaze meets Jungkook’s; his stare is unreadable and Jungkook can’t place a finger on what’s running through his mind. “Are you two... dating?”

“Why does everyone ask that?”��

“Well, Jungkook is offering to pay for your business,” Jungsik begins, watching the expression on his younger sibling’s face who reciprocates the action, “and he never does that.” He pauses for a moment before breaking the staring competition with Jungkook, fixating back onto you. “But then again, Jungkook spends the family’s money heedlessly, so that’s expected. I’m sure your business is legitimate, but Jungkook probably didn’t even do any research before gifting you that proposition. And I don’t really see Jungkook in a relationship, let alone someone like you, anyways. No offense. I think you’re great, hence why I don’t think he could even land you.”

Cheeks flushing pink, you dip your head. “Thanks.”

There it was. Even when in front of a stranger, Jungsik is just like his other brothers, shamelessly speaking about Jungkook in a condescending manner. Jungkook confesses that Jungsik’s hypothesis is right— Jungkook did exactly do all those things he listed, but that doesn’t mean anything. It was a kind gesture, one that he figured Jungsik would’ve done himself, and he couldn’t see what was wrong with the decisions he had made. You were passionate about a dream, realistic with the expectations, and had mutual friends with him. He felt like despite the constant bickering, he still trusted you. More than his own siblings, at least.

The silence between the three of you was swelling, tension predominantly between the two males, so you shatter that glass by placing some beef on Jungkook’s plate. “Try that.”

“... You want me to try that? I don’t eat regular grade beef.”

“Well kid, you do now because you can’t afford any of the kobe stuff. Come on, Jungkook, just give it a shot.” Grabbing a bed of lettuce, you place a piece of garlic, swipe of gochujang paste, and drop a slice of beef onto it before wrapping and bringing it close to his mouth. “Here, try it like this.”

Jungkook can feel it. The way Jungsik studies the actions between you and Jungkook was a test. Jungsik traveled far and wide, spent time in first and third world countries, eating things that Jungkook can only imagine of eating... well, he doesn’t want to imagine some of those things, but ultimately enough, he’s testing the waters. Jungsik would go home later that night, report this to the other four siblings and to his parents in the luxurious dining room where they’d have their meetings, which meant one thing: he had to eat this concoction that you’ve created.

You lift the lettuce wrap up, gesturing him to open wide. Slowly, he parts his lips, just enough for you to thrust it into his mouth as he winces, the juices from the meat spilling out from the sides. As you wipe the spill with a napkin, his eyes dilate with a sparkle. "Holy shit. That's good."

Jungsik lets go of a breath he's been holding. "I didn't think you'd actually eat that. Don't think I've seen you eat anything without caviar, gold flakes or truffles."

Jungkook turns to his older brother, cheeks full of the lettuce that you've fed him. "Well, you thought wrong. I'm different now, hyung, and it hasn't even been that long since I've left home."

"Correction, since mother kicked you out." He retorts, attention turning back onto you. "Anyway, thank you. This amount on my plate should be enough for me tonight as for I already had a very large dinner before stopping by the market. I'm going to have to leave after this— but feel free to order as much as you like, I'll keep my card on the tab."

"Oh," Face crimson, you wave your hands in front of you in disagreement, "Don't do that. I don't mind paying."

"No, no," Jungsik says, taking a mouthful of the meat into his mouth. "It's the least I could do since you're looking after my little brother. After all, he needs all the help he can get."

When Jungsik says goodbye and exits the store, Jungkook found it inevitable to ponder why his brother decided to come by anyway. Despite his common reputation of being the sweetest and most caring Jeon, he was known to be devious to those who were close to him, shady majority of the time, and every step he made had a reasoning behind it.

The moment Jungsik steps out of the restaurant, he spits out the chewed up beef behind the door, eyes meeting with Jungkook through the windows before a mischievous smile stretches from cheek to cheek. What was he up to?

Inhaling sharply, he shoves it under the rug for future thought. "Enjoying the food?"

"Mmm," You hum, cheeks full of rice and kimchi, an unrecognizable amount of joy written across your face. "So good. Definitely worth dealing with you and your brother's weird relationship. Is this what it's like with all of your siblings?" In spite of the grain of rice stuck to your chin, he oddly thinks this sight of you is... cute.

"Usually. They aren't really fans and disagree with almost all of my life choices except for going to University. I graduated with all honors and on the Dean's List multiple times yet I'll never be up to their standards."

"Well, to be fair, those gossip magazines talked a lot about your scandals." You grab a napkin to wipe the area around your mouth and he suddenly misses the rice that rested on your face.

"What? A twenty-three year old guy can't sleep around? What's wrong with that?"

You shake your head in response, leaning back against the metal chair that begins to bring discomfort to your tailbone. "Nothing wrong with that, but your choices on who you decide to bed is definitely controllable. You keep luring in those rich girls who do nothing all day but spread rumors and make it their life goal to assure your life is a living hell." Tapping your fingers against the table, your lips purse up in thought before resting your arms beside your plate. "Wanna order some drinks? It's on your brother's tab and you seem like you need to loosen up a little."

Five shots of charm soju in, Jungkook's supple skin is flushed red.

"I only sleep with those types of girls because I think they have somewhat potential in dating me. But in the end, they're all the same. So I just end the night with a quick bang and go home." Strangely enough, even with Jungkook's history with drinking, he's actually a lightweight. You'd think he had a better tolerance with his constant intake but you've been proven otherwise.

Eyes hooded and face pressed against the palm of his hand while his elbows rest against the wooden table, he hums to an unfamiliar tune. "I just want to get through this part of my life. Bring home someone who's steady, realistic, and liked by my entire family where they actually have hope in me again."

"You can, just don't bring any of those girls home again." Alcohol doesn't hit you as hard as Jungkook does, or at least, five shots doesn't, but you admit you're a bit tipsy. "I'm sure someone like that will fall for you. You're like... pretty and with money."

He scoffs. "Hoseok would frown at that response. He hates when people associate him with his parents' wealth. I don't understand it."

"It's like when your family thinks you're incapable of working hard. People think he's incapable of working, too. In this case, associate him with his parents' money, and for you, they just think you won't make it out here alive because of your choices. You're both on the path of proving yourselves competent."

There's silence between the two of you, Jungkook deep in thought.

If Hoseok was on the same route as he was, why was Hoseok's approach entirely different? Why didn't he feel the same drive and motivation as Hoseok does, and why does it make him believe that there was another way to solve this issue? Instead of trying to make enough money to move out, he could just feed off of his parents' money and use it towards something else, earn money off of that and spend that newly collected money that was now truly his. Which brings to question, how can he hit two birds with one stone? Both introduce his parents to someone who was totally out of his league yet loved by them and demonstrate his ability to work?

Bingo. The answer is sitting right there in front of him. You.

You were a hard-working middle class citizen. From juggling two jobs to being a graduate at some University, you knew what it felt like to be poor. You hated people who bathed in wealth, especially when it's claimed to not be their own and stood for your beliefs. If Jungkook brought you home to present to his parents, they'd be so jubilant that he could imagine his stubborn, stone-cold face father doing cartwheels, mother's cheeks in pain from all the grinning, and brothers looking defeated, envied erroneously.

"Tell me a bit more about yourself, I feel like I don't really know you." There. If he studies you enough, maybe you'd be willing to jump in on his plan. After all, he still has to determine what he can offer you in this portion of his scheme to convince you to deceive his family, especially since you seemed to be fond of both Jungsik and his mother. "... Why are you suddenly interested?"

He shrugs. "I just wanna know. Where did you go to school, why did you choose a bakey, etcetera. If I'm going to be working with you, I should probably get to know you a bit better. Maybe I'll feel more inclined to cooperate." It was like in mere seconds, Jungkook wasn't intoxicated anymore— completely sober.

So you play his little game, it wouldn't hurt, right? "Got a scholarship to study abroad, so I was in New York for a couple years. Don’t get me wrong though, since it’s the US, it wasn’t a full scholarship, but I didn’t have any other opportunities that I wanted. Then graduated with a degree in Food Science. Then parents needed some money so I had to come back right after graduation and pick up a job at your mom's supermarket, paid off their debt and now I'm just trying to pay off mine. I also needed to put some sense to my degree and well... I loved baking in my free time. It was all I did when I was stressed from exams."

"You studied in New York?" If he wasn't sober a couple minutes ago, he was now.

You nod in response, finishing the last portion of pork that sits idly on your plate. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"But you started working at the market three years ago?" He asks, the space between his brows crinkle, trying to count the months in his head. He also takes note that he's older than you and that it'd come in handy later. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I finished high school early." The sizzle of the grill dies down, the ventilator shutting off from the lack of smoke. "I jumped a couple grades."

"A... couple grades. A couple grades, it doesn't sound like just 'a couple,' you literally graduated college at the age of what... fifteen?" He heaves, completely taken aback by this new information. "And then graduated college at eighteen? Yet you're working at a grocery store and some coffee shop when you could be running an entire company."

"Well, when you say it like that—"

"Okay, I have a proposition for you. Let's date." You nearly choke on the water you're drinking. "What?"

"Fake date, really. Be my fake girlfriend. You're a year younger than me, got a college degree at eighteen with attainable aspirations that I could cater to once my parents give me access to their money again. The entirety of this conversation is only giving me more reasons to invest in our relationship, to invest in you, and it'll benefit me in return." You squint your eyes at him suspiciously, but he continues. "My mom already likes you. Jungsik even thinks you're too good for me and that there's no way that you'd ever date me. If you actually did, imagine the look on his face!"

"Jungkook," You sigh, running your fingers through your loosen strands of hair. "I don't know. This seems wrong, lying to your family. They only want the best for you."

"Absolutely not. My brothers want to see me fail. If you agree to do this, I can show you what I'm talking about."

Hesitant, you nibble on the hardened dry skin on your lips, heart racing in uneasiness. "But you'd be giving up a lot. No more flings, no more getting wasted... you'd have to be completely serious and on board if you do this. It has to be convincing. But at the same time, how long and how are we going to keep this up?"

"Maybe until you get your shop up and running so that you're able to stabilize it yourself. I'm sure that wouldn't take long anyway, and it would be a great business deal if we go through with this. You'd be out of debt, starting your own bakery, all in a shorter span of time than intended. And all you have to do is come home with me to see my parents occasionally, attend some events, hold my hand, maybe exchange a couple kisses— but nothing out of your comfort zone though, I respect boundaries."

With how his hand gestures move, and how the ideas flow from his mind so effortlessly, you could've sworn that Jungkook was a con-artist. His words were a shell of plausibles and credibility— up to the point you had to tell yourself to stop and take a breather because all this material was starting to sound reasonable, and from your lack of experience with Jungkook, he wasn't the most reliable person you've met. "I'm going to have to think about this. As great as it sounds for me, it doesn't seem like much of a character development path for you."

"But it would," he asserts, putting emphasis in the way he speaks, "I'm investing in something I believe in. A business, one that I see potential in, in a person that I see potential in."

"Jungkook, you met me last week."

"Which is why it makes it even more impactful!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air. "I know you hate me. But you have the qualities of what would help me get myself back into the estate. I'm not even sure if I'm written out of the will yet, and I'm praying that this whole 'changing' thing won't take so long that the idea is going to be thrown out the window."

"I really don't hate you, I just want people like you to be more aware of what's going on in the real world. They all view the lives of people like me through a sheer shower curtain with diamonds and pearls wrapped around their bodies, laughing away. It's like you don't see the problems we face everyday."

"And as much as I don't want to do that, let that be part of the deal. Get one 'ignorant' rich guy out of that stereotypical pool, and teach me how to be better. Then, I'll also be on the road to being a more... empathetic and educated man."

Puffing up your cheeks, you look away for a brief moment. “I still want some time to think about this.”

“That’s fine. But also, one more thing.” You turn your gaze to fixate back onto him. “Yeah?”

“Don’t eat alone if you don’t have to. Call me, I’ll keep you company.”

"... So I asked her to be my fake girlfriend." Jungkook ends the story of how your ‘fake love’ blossomed under the fluorescent lighting and smoke from the grill at a barbecue shack hidden in an alleyway.

Hoseok's jaw drops to the floor. "W-What?" He stutters, appalled by Jungkook's proposal for you. How could Jungkook just bring up an arrangement like that so effortlessly? Without even a second thought? "And what did she say?"

"That she needs to think about it a little more."

He sighs of relief, pushing his hair back through his fingers. "Good. Because she has a horrible history with guys. It always seems to go down in flames. I could only imagine what it means if she dated you."

"It's a fake relationship, what could possibly go wrong?"

"You might fall in love with her. Or worse, she'll fall in love with you. Literally every fanfic and romance movie trope that has to do with fake dating. Plus, imagine if she fell in love with you." He shivers at the thought.

“What’s wrong with me? Why are you making it sound like it’s the worst thing ever if she even so likes me like that? I don’t even think she’ll fall for me anyway. The mere thought of me seems to disgust her.”

Grabbing another box of cereal to restock, he rolls his eyes. "You really don’t get it, do you? It’s more like... you're not going to be serious about her if she did. You don't even know what it means to be in a committed relationship, let alone know how to handle a fake one. If she falls in love with you, she's done for. Then her guy streak really is horrible. You’re putting her in a tough spot, Jeon."

Tearing open another cardbox box full of inventory, Jungkook frowns in thought. What if you did fall in love with him? How would he go about that? Would he still invest in your business then? Taking a moment to let the ideas sink in, he’s already decided. "I'd still invest in her." He concludes. "Isn't that part of the journey? Learning how to be professional? If she falls in love with me, I'll give her space. But I still believe in her business and her goals to open one."

"But you don't even know her," Hoseok reminds him, stopping in the midst of his actions. "She really needs this. If you so much have any doubt of leaving this plan, she'll be devastated. Everything that she has worked hard for has to be halted because she trusts you. You can't play with people's lives like that."

"It's just a business," Jungkook clarifies, but Hoseok shakes his head in dismissal. "This is her life's work, Jeon. Have you even really talked to her about this? You need to either call this off or have a written contract or something because you're not only diminishing her love life, but her dreams too. So really think about this."

Jungkook slouches, body barely standing up against the shelves. “She still has time to decide. Trust me, Hobi, if she does fall in love with me, I’ll take care of her and make sure that she’ll still be able to have the business.” Hoseok eyes Jungkook in disbelief. “You found out she’s younger than you, didn’t you? I can already hear it in your tone. Don’t overlook the age, she’s still lightyears of experience ahead of both of us combined.”

unknown [6:22PM]: so, what’s the verdict? unknown [6:23PM]: my fault, it’s jungkook.

Letting out a large exhale, you shut your lids, phone in the palm of your hand after viewing the texts, allowing your body to fall against the wall behind you.

It’s another late shift at the coffee shop, one that ends around 2am before the cycle of waking up for an additional eight hours at the Jeon market. Although the bags and dark circles that begin to reside underneath your eyes are evidence to your exhaustion, gradually taking a toll on your body. The days were getting shorter, nights stretching longer, and you weren’t sure when your next day off would even be.

Then the thoughts of your loans come to mind. There was another email sent to your mailbox, reading that the next bill was approaching and due soon, causing the weight on your shoulders to inflate. If only the figurative load built your muscles because then you’d be able to pick up a job on a construction site, possibly making a bit more money than you do now with both jobs combined.

You glance at Jungkook’s text again.

The belief that you were independent goes out the window if you cave into Jungkook’s premise. You were practically selling your body at that point... but your personality was part of the package as well. Then there was the lying— you admit, being yourself around the Jeons was easy, but having to lie to them about dating Jungkook seemed... difficult. They were relatively smart people, what if they’re able to see right through your act? And what about Jungkook’s past? Would it continue to haunt you during the relationship?

For instance, what about the women he dated? Rephrase: slept with. There’s pretty much a guarantee that scandals would arise with the announcement that Jungkook was going steady with someone who wasn’t an aristocrat, a child of money. What about you stood out that Jungkook would fall for you to convince other people that you were good enough to be part of their world?

But you go back to your debt.

The biggest regret yet also your biggest accomplishment was going to college in New York.

The expansion of knowledge you were able to obtain during your years there was irreplaceable. If anything, really, it molded you to the person you are today. But at the same time, the debt was like a dark, rainy cloud that followed you around wherever you went.

Having to plan your every expense week by week was draining.

Declining meetings with friends because you couldn’t afford to pay for your portion of the meal, let alone for everyone else.

Jungsik offering to pay for dinner despite your inclination to decline and pay for yourself was a blessing. Veritably thankful that he didn’t take your ‘no’ as answer and left his credit card, if you were being completely honest, you wouldn’t have picked that location if you knew he wasn’t going to pay for it. It’s been a while since you were able to afford KBBQ.

You weren’t poor, no, or at least, you believed yourself not to be. Just... all your money seemed to go toward your debt and savings account for the bakery.

Feeling demoralized, you’re tempted to text Jungkook to let him know you’re surrendering, but he beats you to it.

unknown [6:30PM]: i just want to be able to help the both of us. you can lead the relationship, i’ll follow. i know how much your independence means to you, so... i’ll bottom. unknown [6:31PM]: be mine? you [6:31PM]: 🏳️ (white flag)

Sliding your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, you make your way back behind the counter with two girls who studied at the university nearby, giggling and slapping each other’s arms elatedly. You’re slightly envious of their lighthearted laughter, wishing that you could do so freely without this heavy feeling in your chest, yet you push those feelings aside anyway, a smile tugging on the edges of your lips. “What are you two laughing about?”

“Jiwoo has a crush!” Injae exclaims, pushing the aforementioned girl to the side with a cackle. “She saw him working at the supermarket you worked at the other day and I swore I saw her staring at him in awe, a river of drool coming out of her mouth. Should’ve put a wet floor sign—“

“Injae!” Jiwoo whines, bottom lip jutting out. “Stop embarrassing me in front of Unnie. She probably thinks we’re immature.” Not really. You kind of wished you had a crush too. The butterflies in your stomach, hands palmy and cheeks flushed pink. Eagerness to see the person; each touched exchange making your heart race faster... “Who’s the guy?”

Injae glances over at you mischievously as you watch her prepare to get hit by Jiwoo. “Jeon Jungkook—” Slap slap slap. Injae’s arm is definitely going to be red tomorrow morning if not right now. But oh, Jungkook? The one you just agreed to date about 5 minutes ago over text?

“I think he has a girlfriend.” You respond uneasily, chewing on the nail of your thumb anxiously. “Who?”

“Hey,” The three of you turn to the customer, quickly straightening your postures and aprons until your eyes meet his, halting your breath. Jungkook has a knack for timing because there he stands, hair disheveled from probably rushing over, in a grey hoodie and baby blue jeans with tears at the knees. “What’s good here?” Yet his gaze doesn’t shift from you. Legs rooted into the ground, mouth parted in surprise, you finally shake yourself out of ice before clearing your throat. The girls seem to be just as stunned as you are because they haven’t moved an inch.

“Cold brew is my personal favorite. But if you want a safe option, americano is great too.” Logging into the iPad, you’re ready to tap in his order but grabs onto your wrist and you grimace. “Can we talk?”

“... You could just say that and not grab me, Jeon. Not everything has to be a K-Drama moment.” In all honesty, you were kind of embarrassed of the girls knowing your newly found relationship with Jungkook. He was definitely not your kind of guy, his brother Jungsik probably being closest to your ideal type and even the girls knew that.

Sitting by the window and across from Jungkook with your fingers tapping against the plastic cup with your cold brew inside, he continues to observe your face briefly while drinking a sip of the americano. You don’t even take a second to look at him, rather your attention is glued to the crescent moon out the window. “White flag? That’s all you can say?”

“How did you want me to respond?”

“Yes or no? Are you usually such a dry texter?” He rebuttals, prepared for anything you throw his way. He’s learning, you take note, because he usually just stands there dumbfounded whenever you’d shoot back with a response.

“Yes, it means yes, I surrender and I agree to your terms. We can date, I’ll be your girlfriend, you can be my boyfriend, blah blah.”

“Not my terms,” He says, rephrasing his text. “Your terms. You’re leading this relationship, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable just because I suggested the idea. I’m not a jackass, you know. I don’t even sleep with women who say no.”

“Are you supposed to get a ‘congrats’ or reward for that? Because that’s the bare minimum, Jeon.”

“You know what I mean,” He retorts back. “I respect women.”

“But lead them on and sleep with them even though you know that you don’t want a relationship with them but they want a relationship with you—“

“Now I have you.” Jungkook interrupts firmly. “I’m having a serious, committal relationship with you. No more of those girls anymore.” You nearly felt your heart swell out of your chest cavity but you remember that he’s just saying it to convince you to date him, despite the fact that you’ve already agreed to it.

“I don’t get where you’re going with this conversation. If you got the answer you wanted and expected to hear, I’m leaving. I’m still on the clock, you know.”

“Quit then.” You scoff at his swift resolution. He’s too impulsive. “I can’t just quit. I need the money.”

“I said I’d help you pay for those things, did you already forget? That’s what this arrangement is all about.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand from your seat, snatching your drink along with you. “In case you forgot, you don’t have the money yet. I agreed to be your girlfriend, happy?” He looks like a puppy with his round eyes peering through his shaggy hair, grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “I am. This means you have to let me do boyfriend things for you.”

“Fine.” You respond through your gritted teeth. Truth be told, you want him out of the café as soon as possible because the college kids behind the counter were starting to whisper. “But you still have to treat this professionally when we’re at work.”

“Deal, love.” His teeth are peeking from his excitement. You squint your eyes at him. “Jungkook.” You warn.

“You’re at work, I’m not.”

You’re going to strangle him.

Walking out of the supermarket after another long night shift, you’re stuck between Jungkook and Hoseok as they exchange stories of parties they previously attended, emitting a sigh from you.

“Tired of our old shenanigans, baby?” Jungkook teases, tugging on the sleeve of your jacket. Hoseok shoots Jungkook a glare. “You’re going to die tonight if you keep that up, man. She’s scary when she’s mad.”

“Oh please. She likes it when I play around.” The innocent smile on his face makes you want to punch it in. “No,” Hoseok says, pulling Jungkook over to his side and looping his arm with yours. “She’s hungry. Let’s go tame this beast.”

Jungkook just stares.

The three of you are at a 24 hour convenience store just outside his house, three bowls of ramen prepped at the table while you all sit on the stools provided. “What’s this? How was it made so fast?”

“It’s ramen, dumbass,” You hiss, breaking the wooden chopsticks that Jungkook watches in reverence. “It’s literally called instant ramen. You’ve never had it before?”

“I’ve had ramen in Japan.”

“Oh, dude, you’re going to be so disappointed when you have this then.” Hoseok laughs then winces when you kick his shin underneath the table. Gesturing the bowl and Jungkook to Hoseok, he frowns, tearing the paper wrapping off the chopsticks and hands to the younger male. “Do what she just did. Break it.”

“Break... this? Chopsticks? Who invented these?”

“Does it matter?” You chime in. “Just break it. Hurry up, we’re trying to show you how this works so we can eat. Why are you acting like an alien? You’ve seen chopsticks before.”

“Well, honestly, at the Jeon estate, we only use—“

“Fuck what you use at the Jeon estate. We’re at the...” Turning to look at the sign above the store, you point to the logo. “... KTH 24 CONVENIENCE. They’re telling us to quickly break our chopsticks so we can go nomnom.” Rapidly, he attempts to snap the chopsticks, only for it to crack unevenly and you stifle a laugh.

“... Good try,” Hoseok shakes his head, tearing the rest of the lid off of the bowl. “Maybe you’ll be better next time. You’re stuck with your screw up now, but least you can still enjoy your shitty bowl of ramen noodles.”

Jungkook swallows. The sight of the noodles floating in soup that looks painfully diluted with water, the aroma from the bowl was still alluring. Stirring the soup, he finally picks up a portion with his wonky chopsticks, blowing on it before taking a bite.

It’s... actually not bad.

“How is it?” Your voice is calmer and much more soothing than it had been a minute ago, but he makes the assumption that it’s because you’ve finally gotten food in your stomach. He takes note of this for future reference. “Oddly enough, not bad. I kind of like it.”

“Well, get used to it. It’s cheap and efficient. You’re part of the broke squad now, Jungkook.”

Broke Squad. Feels nice to be part of something.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gyukultfics

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

A certain redheaded tabloid journalist tracks y/n down at work. Y/n finds out how persistent she is when she makes her an offer she just can’t refuse.

Trigger warnings: Christianity, stalking, survivor’s guilt

You made it out alive, and that was more than could be said for some.

Your consolation prize was a ghastly scar on your hand that you kept bandaged up as to not scare small children. You did get some worker’s comp after all; enough to pay for your medical bills and a little extra to make up for the lost workdays. All things considered, you were the lucky one. Four people lost their lives that day and three more were injured far worse than you. You should have felt grateful to be alive.

But somehow that was even worse. You got a couple stitches and some time off. It wasn’t worth four people’s lives.

Your therapist explained it to you very gently. You were experiencing a phenomenon known as "survivor's guilt". She encouraged you to join a support group, get outside and familiarize yourself with your new experiences.

This was good advice and all, but yours was the newest, hottest crime. You couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters looking for whatever details you had somehow left out. Dr. Bloom encouraged you to take some time off work until the media circus died down, but you had bills to pay.

"I feel like there should be some rule about re-opening a restaurant within a week of it being an active crime scene." Charissa observed as she wiped down a table. "If anything, it's a health hazard."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. You'd been tasked with refilling the salt shakers. Appropriate, because there was plenty of salt to go around. "Demand for this place has never been higher. Everyone wants to see if the blood is still on the carpet."

"Hooray for capitalism." She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay, [F/N]?"

"'Okay' is a very relative term." You forced a laugh. "I think I can make it through the shift if that's what you're asking."

"Aren't you behind the bar all evening?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that means I'm trapped." You folded your arms. "First thing you see when you walk in is the waitress who survived the- what are they calling him?"

"The Baltimore Butcher." She answered with a voice full of vitriol. "Do you think they ever consider the ramifications of giving literal murderers these weird superhero names? Like, no wonder we get copycats, they treat these guys like celebrities."

"Holy shit, right?!" You slammed the salt shaker down on the table. "Y'know, last night on the news, they used the creep's graduation photo and kept saying that he was a good Christian young man with a lot of prospects."

Charissa stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I saw that. And how he was 'corrupted' by crack cocaine. Once again, blaming a drug that was used to villainize poor Black neighborhoods in the 80's as some kind of corrupting agent."

You nodded furiously. "Instead of understanding that Christianity is a violent imperialist religion that lets violent white men absolve themselves of any guilt."

"And they knew it wasn't crack." Charissa added. "I heard that shit was completely uncut. You know he spent a lot on it."

"And I will say this until the day I am put in the goddamn ground," you tensed up. "The only reason the fucker escaped is because he is white."

"Hey y'all." Another waitress walked in for her shift. "What are we talking about?"

"Cocaine." Charissa answered. “Also white privilege.”

"Great." She said dismissively. "Hey [F/N], can I scoop up that bar shift? I could really use the tips."

"Madison!" Charissa scolded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Madison shrugged and glanced at you. "I didn't get any paid time off. I need the money."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Charissa scowled. "Are you seriously joking about her trauma?!"

"It's fine, she can have it." You rolled your eyes, then turned them to Madison. "Just know you're the reason I have survivor's guilt."

"Well now I feel bad." Madison frowned.

"Good." You and Charissa said in unison.

It was sort of comforting to get back to the script. Almost nostalgic. It provided the illusion of normalcy in an incredibly abnormal new reality.

You approached the first table in Madison’s block, hoping for a new beginning. A young woman with fiery red hair sat alone by the window.

“Hi!” You greeted, with a smile as genuine as you could muster. “My name is [F/N], I’ll be your waiter tonight.”

The woman smiled back. “Evening.”

You couldn’t tell what, but something was off. Perhaps you were trying too hard to force normalcy. Or maybe it was the borderline predatory way the woman was looking at you; like a shark following a trail of blood. Either way, the vibes were rancid.

“Can I start you off with a drink or is water okay?” You ask.

“Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of chardonnay?” She asked, lowering her eyebrows.

“Of course.” You nodded and reached for your pen.

“Actually,” She corrected herself. “If you could bring a bottle and two glasses, I’m expecting company.”

“Absolutely.” You scribble the order down on your notepad. “Do you have a preference?”

She thought for a moment. “Oh, dealer’s choice. Whatever you prefer.”

You soon returned to her booth with a bottle of your favorite chardonnay and two stemmed glasses. You poured a small bit in one glass to let her taste.

“You have wonderful tastes.” She complimented, filling her glass. “It’s very delicious.”

You rocked on your heels. “Would you like to place your order now, or do you want to wait until after your guest arrives?”

“Actually,” she repeated, filling the other glass. “My guest is already here.”

She slid the glass across the table and gestured to the other seat.

You felt stupid, but there was no way to avoid this. You couldn't just not do your job. She cornered you by the confinements of your profession.

"I really can't, I'm on the clock." You said, apologetically. The wine beckoned you. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

"Oh, bummer." The woman placed her chin in her hand and pouted. "Well, I'm sure there's something that would make your boss look the other way."

She glanced down at your bandaged hand, then met your eyes. "The bandages are a dead giveaway, [F/N] [L/N]."

You then noticed a wire sticking from her pocket. Undoubtedly some kind of recording device. You looked at the ground. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"But who will drink all this wine?" She asked, raising her glass.

"Ma'am." Your voice hardened as you tried to bite back an overwhelming rage. "Please leave the restaurant. I'm not going to ask you again."

Your manager, Matthew, passed by. "What's going on here?"

"This waitress is being very rude." The woman complained. "I ordered chardonnay, and she brought me chablis."

"Chablis is a type of chardonnay." You corrected. Even you found it strange that this was the hill you were willing to die on. "She asked for my preference, and I prefer the unoaked varieties."

Matthew looked confused. "Well, she's right."

You gestured to her pocket and he caught on immediately. He narrowed his eyes. "Ma'am, please leave the premises or I'll be forced to call the police."

The woman stood up, rummaged through her pockets and slapped a handful of bills down on the table. She then proceeded to drink both glasses of wine and walk away.

Matthew looked at you apologetically as he collected the bills. "Are you sure you want to be here tonight? I can call in someone to cover for you."

You shook your head and grabbed the bottle by its neck. "No, it's okay. I appreciate the concern but I really just want things to go back to normal."

"Hey!" A woman from the adjacent table called out. You prepared to immediately recant your statement about not going home.

"We like chablis." The woman said, gesturing to herself and her friend.

Her friend joined in. "And if that nosy reporter lady isn't gonna drink it..."

You glanced at Matthew, who shrugged. "Sure. It's yours."

The women exchanged delighted looks as you placed the bottle on their table. Matthew handed you a couple of clean glasses and you began to pour.

"For this wine, I suggest any of our wonderful seafood dishes." You explained, your cheeks stinging with a smile. "It also pairs quite nicely with chicken and game bird."

"Thank you." One of the women said. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look at the menu, please."

"Of course." You nodded. "Just flag me down whenever you're ready."

"This is why I put you behind the bar, by the way." Matthew gently scolded you as you collected the soiled glasses.

"Didn't you hear?" You said. "Madison needs the money because we can't all have paid time off."

"You should have come to me first." He sighed. "She has no right to say those things to you."

"Never stopped her before." You shrugged.

"I'll talk with her after the dinner rush." He said. "Just... try not to get cornered tonight, okay?"

"I'll do my best." You answered, flatly. “Because that’s definitely something I can control.”

The rest of your shift went smoothly, or, as smoothly as could be expected given the circumstances. The nosy reporter was right, your bandage was a dead giveaway. You had to dodge a couple of questions, but most people had enough decorum to know the wound--metaphorical and literal--was still fresh.

You said goodbye to Matthew and Charissa, collected your things and walked out to your car. You put the key in the ignition, only to find your gas tank was completely empty. You had just filled it that morning.

You bit back a scream and fought the urge to slam your head against the steering wheel. Throwing the door open, you mentally prepared yourself to either make a long trek to the nearest gas station, or beat someone up.

“Looking for this?” A smug voice said over the cicadas.

You turned around and saw the nosy reporter from before holding up a canister. A deep, blistering fury overtook your face as you slammed the car door. “You siphoned my fucking gas?”

“It’s not like you left me with much choice, [F/N].” She crossed her arms. “You’ll get it back once you answer my questions.”

You threw your head back in disbelief. “You’re Freddie Lounds, aren’t you?”

“I see I’m not the only one who does my research.” She said, looking a bit impressed. “How’d you know?”

“It’s the first thing that comes up when you search ‘unethical crime journalists Baltimore’.” You answered. “There’s a whole flair dedicated to you on the subreddit for murder survivors.”

Freddie seemed proud of herself. “Need a ride?”

“I’d rather drive off a cliff.” You said, honestly, before turning around to leave.

“Where are you going?” She walked after you.

“To get more fucking gas, you evil bitch.” You shouted back. “Are you gonna follow me to the BP too?”

“Look, I heard what you were saying to your friend.” She called out. “About white privilege.”

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the same privilege that allows you to siphon a stranger’s gas and sit in a parking lot all night without getting arrested.”

“And I agree with you.” She hurried to your side, her chunky platform boots clacking against the asphalt. “They did you dirty and they’re shooting themselves in the foot by not listening to you.”

You turned around and threw up your arms. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“I invited you to sit down over a bottle of wine, did I not?” Freddie chuckled.

“Cornering me at work is not a gesture of goodwill.” You huffed. “And I actually do want to put my story out there, but all you’re accomplishing by stalking me is guaranteeing you won’t be the one to do it.”

“Are you really in a position to be that selective?” Freddie smirked and placed all her weight on one hip.

You groaned. “What?”

“The Baltimore Butcher is still out there, and you won’t be the hot new victim forever.” She grinned sadistically. “Soon enough, him or some other psycho is going to strike, and your fifteen minutes of fame are up.”

“Good. Then I can go back to living my life.” You said.

“But what if his next victim is a Christian?” Freddie grabbed your shoulder. “What if the next person who narrowly avoids getting their throat slashed decides to go on record and say that he doesn’t represent ‘real Christianity’?”

You went quiet. You hadn’t considered it, but the thought of anyone downplaying his faith as a motivation made your blood boil. You looked into the man’s eyes and saw a person driven to kill for his god. A god he shared with the crusaders, conquistadors and slavers.

“...but it does. Christians colonized half the planet for--”

You stopped yourself when you saw Freddie’s smile.

“You want to get on your soapbox, now’s your chance.” She bit her lip. “Take control of the conversation while you still can.”

“Fine.” You spat. “I get off work tomorrow at four.”

Freddie shoved the gas can into your hands. “I’ll see you then.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #freddie lounds #tw christianity #will graham

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earthchica · 3 years

Text

ungodly hour ➝ part two

Chris Evans x Reader OFC! ( Zariyah Hawthorne )

Summary: in which Chris and Zariyah have to work alongside each other despite being exes.

Warning: More Angst & Cursing

Word Count: 1.5K

Note: Sorry for the wait, we’ll be back on track. 💗

like, comment and reblog! 😁

WATTPAD LINK click here

December 15th, 2016 ➝ Los Angeles, California

I should’ve given Chris the benefit of the doubt, but everything happened so fast, that it was hard to comprehend.

I needed answers, I needed them now and somehow I got them. I sat here for a moment, not believing what I was staring at.

It was all a lie and I believed it, I fucking believe it. My publicist found out that someone was paid to send me a fake cheating picture of Chris.

I sat my phone down for a second and covered my face with my hands. Tears began to come down my face.

Chris was telling the truth and I didn’t believe him. In a matter of seconds regret, sadness and heartache filled my whole body.

I needed to talk to him, I had to talk to him. I sniffed and wiped my tears, decided to text him until my eyes caught something.

I scrolled and stopped at the E! News article headline. I gasped not even .

Are Chris Evans and Lily Grace Dating?

December 15th, 2016

Is there something romantic going on between Chris Evans and Lily Grace? Actor, Chris Evans (37) and Model, Lily Grace (29) were spotted having dinner together at a restaurant in Orlando, Florida on Wednesday. They were also spotted at Disney world a few days ago by fans.

An eyewitness told E! News that "They were flirting, laughing, and looked to be having a great time" The pair had first sparked romance rumors two months ago, neither star had confirmed the nature of their relationship.

Is #Evansthorne really over? Has Chris really moved on? Are Chris and Lily really dating? Leave comments below on what you think!

My heart broke into a million pieces, it was over. I let him go and now he’s happy with someone else.

I broke down into tears, angry at myself, angry at the fact I let someone lie and manipulation destroy our amazing relationship.

I cried and cried until I couldn’t anymore and fell asleep. I jumped awake, wondering where the hell I was.

I realized that I was at home and had fallen asleep. I glanced over my shoulder to look at the clock and it was only five in the morning.

I felt so numb that it was hard setting up in bed. I leaned my back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling for about three hours.

―――――――――――――――――――――――――

It's been a few days since I found out the truth, and It’s been really hard, especially with fans tagging me in Chris’s instagram post.

It was true, he had moved on to someone else and I couldn’t be mad or jealous about it.

I haven’t been able to leave my bedroom, all I’ve been doing is sleeping, eating and crying.

Whenever I woke up too early I would toss and turn until I was a lot more comfortable and fall asleep again.

The bright light coming from the crack blinds threatened my eyelids to open but I kept them closed, wanting to keep sleeping.

I was about to go back to sleep when my phone made a noise. I put it up and saw that I had a text from my sister, Zoey.

All of my family and friends have been texting and calling me, they must have heard of the news and wanted to check on me.

I of course lied and said I was okay. I slid to unlock my phone and looked at the text.

zoey 👻 “Are you okay, Zari?”

what I really wanted to say { no, I'm not. I'm heartbroken and I made a huge mistake. }

DELETED...

zari ✨Yeah, I'm great. why wouldn't I be?

zoey 👻 Are you sure because sometimes you pretend to be okay when you're really not.

zoey 👻 i'm here for you, Zari. You can tell me anything?

what I really wanted to say { I made a huge mistake, I found out Chris wasn't really cheating. The picture I saw was fake. I feel so stupid for not believing him and now he's moved on. my heart is breaking }

DELETED...

zari ✨ I'm 100% okay! I'm happy for chris and plus, I've moved on and seeing someone 😏💗

zoey 👻 Oh okay, zari! I love you and if you ever feel you need to talk. Call me! 💓

zari ✨I love you too, Zoey and thanks, really appreciate it.

zoey 👻 You're welcome. oh hey, do you wanna go to the bar tomorrow?

what I really wanted to say { no, I can't too damn depressed }

DELETED....

zari ✨sure, I love it!

―――――――――――――――――――――――――

"Are you sure, you're ok Zari?" Zoey asked for the one billionth time, and I gave her the same answer every time.

Even though I was lying, I had to fake it until I'd make it, and eventually, I'll get over it. It was late at night, the bar was crowded, loud, and surely smelled like alcohol.

Zoey and I found a table and ordered some drinks. My eyes began to wander around the bar as she rambled on about her new man.

My heart stopped when I saw him with her. I looked away quickly trying to calm my nerves but nothing worked.

Zoey caught my eyes and realized who I was seeing. "Are you ok?" She asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I nodded. "Yeah, um I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Are you sure?" She asked. I nodded, walking over to him and when he saw my face, his eyes went blank to amused, which was weird.

"Hey, Zariyah" Chris greeted me with a fake smile. I nodded at him and looked at the girl. She was pretty, alright.

"Oh, I'm being so rude. Zariyah this is Lily, my new girlfriend, and Lily this is Zariyah, my ex-girlfriend" Chris says coldly.

My heart broke when he said ex. His new girlfriend didn't even care, she looked me up and down, shrugged, and went back to sipping her wine.

"Um...Chris, can I talk to you for a minute please?!" I asked, already feeling an annoying vibe from his new girlfriend.

"Whatever you have to say to him, you can say it in front of me" Lily spoke up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Bitch who are you?

"You heard my lady." He says, with a smirk, taking a sip of his beer. "Are you serious?" I asked and he nodded.

If he wants to be like them, so be it, two can play that game.

"Okay, well I don't know how to say this but I'm pregnant with your child Chris" He almost spit his drink out while looking at me.

I rolled my eyes and walked away, Zoey knew that was our cue to leave the bar.

"ZARIYAH!" Chris called out my name as we were almost to the car. I told Zoey to go ahead and that I'll be there in a second.

"What the hell was that, you're not pregnant." He says with anger in his tone.

"I know I'm not, I just wanted to talk to you alone" I answered with my hands on my hips. Chris stared at me intensely.

"What do you want, Zariyah?" Chris asked, putting his hands in pockets. I took a deep breath as I began to speak.

"I-uh-um I want to talk to you about us-" He cut me off.

"US? There is no us, Zariyah. You made that clear when you broke up with me, so what is the real problem?" He asked.

"Fine, who is that bitch? Like for real, Chris" I burst out. Chris shook his head, chuckling at me, turning to leave.

"Chris, please wait!" He stopped and turned back towards me. "Why should I, Zariyah?"

"Because I'm sorry and I love you. I made a huge mistake by breaking up with you. I should've believed-" He cut me off again.

"Believed me when I told you I wasn't cheating. Yeah, you're right!" He was getting aggravated, moving closer to me.

"I cried every fucking night for you, do you know that? I spent every single day wondering why you didn't believe or trust me. I loved you with my fucking heart, and I've been loyal since the day we started dating. I would die before I do anything in my bones to hurt you"

I didn't say anything because I knew what he was saying was true.

"But now that I'm with another woman, that made you realize your mistake and that this whole thing was a big misunderstanding. You have no right to be jealous or hurt when you're the one who left me." Chris says.

"God, I wish I never met you," He says. I nodded as the tears came down my face. His face softened when he saw me crying, he really hated when I cried.

"Zariyah I-" He started but I cut him off.

"No, no I deserve that and I'm sorry for hurting you, I really am. I believed everything and everyone but you. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Chris and I'll do anything to get another chance" I whispered.

Chris and I stood there, just staring at each other in silence, he was about to say something but he was cut off.

"Chris, are you ok?" Lily called out, he turned to look at her for a second before turning back to me.

"I think it's best if we both move on!" He says, not giving me a chance to reply. He walks back inside the bar with his girlfriend.

It begins to rain and I could feel more tears come down my face as my heart bleeds out. I couldn't be mad at anything or anybody but myself.

―――――――――――――――――――――――――

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alilbihh · 4 years

Text

woods&witches — knj

masterlist

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: You think it ends with you saving a fox. That is, until you start getting love letters sent to your doorstep and little knick knacks left on your window sill.

genre: fox shifter!namjoon, witch!reader, fluff

words: 4.5k

a/n: this was meant for the bingo challenge but completely escaped its original prompt. anyway. heres shy!lovestruck!namjoon bc i love him. also no this is nOt a witch au blog idk whats wrong w me

A finch flutters onto your windowsill, and you shuffle over once you hear a tap, tap, tap on the glass. You push it open and the bird hops inside, beak leaning forward tentatively.

You take the letter. "Ah, so they sent you this time?" Or maybe the finch volunteered, you wouldn't be surprised. They are quite the gossips.

It's a soft blue envelope, and when you turn it over there's a scrawled #12 on the left side corner. You think that even if he hadn't written that, you'd know. It's easy to keep track, after all.

A maple leaf slips out when you open the envelope. You set it aside and tentatively take the letter, brush a hand over the ink. It was written by hand in messy but deliberate hand writing and it smells like chamomile and honey, like it was written under a half-moon.

You read it once then twice then three times until it feels like you've been dipped halfway underwater, until the buzzing of the midday cicadas has faded into white noise and everything is suddenly tinged blue.

The man, you deduced a while ago, tells tales of palm trees and blue ponds and red and pink frogs, of catching crabs on a stranded shore. He's writing poetry but he's not, writing reality but he's not, and you don't know how he does it, how he can make five paintings with just one phrase.

You clutch the letter to your chest, feel yourself have an out of body experience because of a not-poem. Your head whips towards the finch when it chirps suddenly, and you huff.

"Why're you still here?" You shield the letter from the bird's eyes. Its head tilts. "And don't give me that look, I know exactly what you're thinking."

The bird only gives another chirp before flying away.

You scoff out a laugh, and when you walk towards your bedside table, the drawer opens before you can even think too much about it. You glare at your walls before tucking the letter with the others, as if to stop the house from teasing you too much.

It all begins and ends on a sunny afternoon.

The tree roots whisper as you pass, as if to purposely lead you astray, but you follow them anyway. The forest is never wrong, after all.

So when you stumble against a snowy white fox lying on a field of wisteria, you're only a tad bit surprised.

"Ah, you don't want to do that," you say some time after it woke up in your home and stopped panicking. It's now looking down at your polka dot socks, then looks up sharply to stare at you. You don't think there's a way for foxes to show emotions, but you think that if there were, he'd be staring at you with a little bit of awe.

You clear your throat. "Your foot, I mean. You don't want to strain it."

It just keeps staring at you, one ear twitching a bit.

"Um." You say when it doesn't stop, "You'll be better in a few weeks time. It wasn't that serious."

The fox blink blink blinks before shaking itself off, fur spilling every which way. You take it as acknowledgement enough.

In a few minutes he's managed to sniff and inspect every piece of furniture in your home, ranging from your small couch to your droopy house plant. He trudges and limps and sometimes skips from place to place, and then becomes highly confused when you don't let him climb the kitchen table.

Yoongi appears on your window somewhere between the fox kneading at your rug and the fox trying to catch a moth with its mouth.

"Hey grump," you say to the black cat, scratching behind his ears. Yoongi's tail twitches in dismissal, but he whines when you stop petting him, anyway.

You can almost see when Yoongi's gaze settles on the fox, because when you turn to look he's frozen solid on your couch, as if hoping he can't be seen if he stays still enough. The cat gives you a look.

You raise a brow. "What? Don't look at me like that."

He keeps looking at you like that.

"I helped him over by the wisteria. His foot's a little bad, but it's nothing too bad." The fox stays curled up on your couch, digging his nails into the cushions much like a cat would. An ear twitches in your direction, as if he's sheepish but won't admit to it.

Yoongi mewls a single, drawn out mewl of acceptance. You nod nod nod, and the cat jumps down your window and disappears into the woods right when the wind starts blowing north and the sun starts climbing higher before dropping lower.

The world stills for a while as you work through your home, organizing your chipped cups and bent spoons and funny forks. The mushroom wraith on your door wiggles when you pass it by, and when the frog figurine on your counter croaks in greeting the fox nearly jumps out of its skin.

(The fox is gone by morning, right when the sun settles over the honeysuckle tumbling down your thatched roof. You try to feel for his presence, but it's overwhelmed by the snails and woodpeckers and oversized mushrooms.

You think that's when the letters started coming, perched nicely over your windowsill whenever you're not looking).

There's a man in your pond.

The carp in the water yells indignantly as the man tries to stand but tumbles, pondweed curled over his ankles as if begging him to stay. You just stare because the man tries to get up once then twice then three times, hair loose and windblown and positively drenched, twigs and pondweed in the knots.

You stare and stare until the man notices you and startles, looks away quickly before cringing and hesitatingly meeting your eyes. He lifts a hand, lowers it, lifts it again and waves. You wave back.

"Hello." You say. The man looks a little stunned, more stunned than when the carp had nipped at his feet. You point at the pond, "You're standing in my pond."

"Ah!" He startles, head whipping down like he'd forgotten all about it. "I am! In your pond, I mean. Sorry, sorry." The pondweed untangles itself mercifully, and he shuffles out of the water, toes curling into the dirt around it.

"It's okay!" You shoot him a thumbs up. He stares. "Do you want to, uh, come inside?"

So the man walks through the slim wooden trellis and diligently wipes his feet on the rug, shuffling through the door with hesitant steps. He looks a little like a painting left out too long in the rain, all ruffled hair and stiff shoulders, but pretty nonetheless.

"Would you like some tea?" You say, already grabbing the kettle from the cupboards, "It will have to have milk, though, since the cups don't like serving without."

"Okay! Tea is nice. Thank you." Then he smiles with knee-deep dimples and pinchable cheeks and something inside you kinda melts a little.

The man's name is Namjoon and his skin is tan despite it already being winter, the color of salted caramel. He's so bright you find it easier to look away, to look instead at the space around him, the shadow against the pane of his neck, the length of his-- very long legs. You'll pretend you never noticed that.

You don't talk about why he was in your pond, not really. He's already apologized to the carp, he says. You talk instead about mushroom glades and why avocados are acceptable dinner foods and his intense love for moths and his hopes for snow this year.

When Namjoon leaves it all feels a bit unprecedented. Lost souls show up on your doorstep often, always leaving after a cup of tea and a few helpful directions, but Namjoon doesn't look lost at all. Looks a little like he belongs, really.

He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, then sticks a hand out in offering. You shake his hand. He nods, lingers on the doorway, plays with a loose stitching of his soft green overalls.

"I'll-- be seeing you, then," he clears his throat, and you just laugh a little loosely because no, you won't. With lost souls, you never do.

Except Namjoon does return. He returns, in fact, in green baseball shorts and an open-collared shirt with sugar packets sticking out of the front pockets. He looks a bit like a dad showing up for his son's football game. Looks a little dangerous but in a harmless way, like a huge gangly bug. A six-foot stick insect hovering outside your door.

You're a little stunned. Very stunned. So stunned that Namjoon cringes, shuffles a bit on your welcome mat. It's a frog with a thought bubble that says welcome! that Namjoon has expressed his love for on multiple occasions.

"Hello," he purses his lips. "I... wanted to thank you. Again. For everything." He sucks in a breath. "Bad time? Bad time. I don't actually remember knocking-- did I knock? God, I didn't, did I? I'm so rude, I'm so sorry."

"No, no," you say once you've recovered. "You, you definitely knocked."

"Oh!" His lips form a surprised little 'o'. You're so fond. "That's good. Okay. I'll... be leaving, then."

"Um!" You interject, "You can come inside, if you want?"

So he comes inside and drinks tea and names the cactus by your windowsill Gerald and discusses his complaints on climate change and you're a little content and a lot confused, because--

Only creatures of the forest can find your house more than once.

Unless--

(That night, you knock on your own walls and glare indignantly. Say, "You led him here, didn't you?"

The walls do nothing. You think you hear a floorboard creak, though.

You stomp your feet like an overgrown child. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but I'm not falling for it!"

No response. Except the wind chimes outside sing brightly, but when you look out the window there's no wind at all).

Namjoon visits once then twice then three times, always showing up unplanned and out of nowhere. He brings a pinecone first then a dandelion next, blushes and says I didn't pluck them against their will! I told them they looked pretty and they volunteered to help me.

He's so pretty it's become a little harder to hold in. He was always pretty, always smiles a bit too brightly, like he's swallowed a star and can't quite keep all the brightness to himself, but something's shifted a bit.

(You contemplate this in a mid afternoon. As in: whisper-screaming to the ceiling for a while. And then whisper-screaming some more when Yoongi walks directly across your face.

"You're a monster," you inform him.

He digs his tiny monster-claws into your stomach.)

One day, you learn the man is weirdly good at knitting. You learn he has a pretty solid grasp on quantum physics. You learn that when he laughs it's a little hah! under his breath, and when he really laughs it turns sideways and belly-up, pitching into something that could almost be defined as a giggle. You learn that you need to stop staring.

Another day, Namjoon sits in the corner of your couch, curled up reading a book he'd picked up from the next village over. It's small but very thick with what could only be very small letters, because he's squinting a bit as he reads. It's vastly endearing.

Another day, he makes cheesy bread in your toaster and felt bad about it for the next three weeks. Which is also the amount of time it took for you to get all the cheese out.

Everything's great.

Today, though, you're walking through the forest alone. The forest doesn't guide you, not really, maybe because it knows you're walking on your own terms.

The forest is noisy with the sounds of birds calling and trees growing and little things skipping here and there through the undergrowth. Your shoes are so muddy you don't really care for how much worse they get, and they squelch when your heels sink into puddles and spongy moss.

You walk and walk until you come across a clearing, a bird feeder propped neatly over a tree branch. A sparrow squawks when it sees you.

"Hello," you say in greeting, and the tree with the bird feeder sighs, the wind blowing and carrying the sound.

A tree root on the ground grabs a fistful of dirt and promptly flings it onto your knees. You shriek indignantly.

You have a lot to figure out, the tree echoes because of course it does. It has a history of saying things vaguely and hoping you'll understand.

"I don't understand," you say out loud.

It flings more dirt onto your knees. You step back protectively, "Okay, okay! I get it!"

One, two. Four clouds in the sky, for now, it says at last, and you're a bit afraid of prying, so you just accept what it says as fact and move on, say one last goodbye to the bluetit that flutters onto the bird feeder.

It starts raining not long after that, when more than four clouds settle over the evening sun, makes it a bit harder to maneuver through the woods. You walk based on feeling, a hand brushing over the tree trunks, silently cursing the tree.

Namjoon is already waiting when you arrive home, hurries forward when he spots you through the trees, holding an umbrella up high.

And it's-- sweet. Just a really sweet thing to do, really considerate. He could have waited inside, in the warmth and shelter, but instead he's walking through puddles to meet you halfway with an umbrella.

He looks a little funny when he stops in front of you, hair disheveled and sticking up in random places, eyes all worried and sullen. He looks like a goose.

"You look like a goose," you say out loud with a little laugh, "I'm already wet though, so there's not much point in this, you know?"

Namjoon's smile is a bit dopey, a bit sloppy at the edges. "But there's not many trees to shield you, from this point on." He says, "Let's-- go inside?"

So you go inside, the house already setting the fireplace with its never-ending firewood, the frog figurine croaking and the wind chimes singing and everything feels a little right. A little more homey.

"Did you find your way back easily?" Namjoon says later, hands cupping his tea mug as he sheepishly adds, "I know this is your-- home, obviously, I don't wanna just assume anything, but-- For me, it's a bit harder to navigate when it rains like this. Fogs my senses and all," he clears his throat.

You purse your lips to keep from smiling, "Do you know how a wood witch works, Namjoon?" You continue when he shakes his head, "A wood witch is the one who planted the first seed that sprouted the first tree that grew the first forest," you say, half-chanting it, cite it like a rhyme long forgotten.

He looks a bit awe-struck. A lot awe-struck. Says, "Oh." And that's that.

You add, sheepish, "It's really not much. I'm not as powerful as other wood witches, but I am grateful to the woods." You hum, "They gave me this cottage. They gave me who I am, really."

"Oh." Namjoon says. "Oh." He stares and stares, open mouthed and in awe and sort of dazed but pretty, pretty. His gaze trails over the room once before settling back on you, says, "You're all the beauty in the world."

And the world-- stills, maybe-- balanced atop a drop of nectar.

You whisper a small, delighted "Oh." And that's that.

Namjoon somehow manages to drag you outside the woods.

You're being dragged through busy streets, cars and crowds and carriages that boggle your senses. The difference between the village and the woods is astounding. (Not that you've never been to nearby cities or villages-- sometimes you crave poptarts and there's nothing you can do about it-- but it's been a while since you've walked into the very heart of it).

You might be a wood witch, but Namjoon is the one who looks a little — lost, outside the woods.

"This is my favorite corner cafe," he admits proudly, "Um, if Seokjin-hyung says anything, please be aware I'm not associated with him."

"Got it." You like this Seokjin guy already.

Taylor Swift is blasting through the speakers when you walk inside, a broad shouldered man swaying from side to side behind the counter as he pours milk into a cup. Once his eyes land on Namjoon he positively grins.

"Namjoon, my man!" He belts out a particularly impressive high note as Namjoon approaches him, but no one around seems at all fazed. "It's been so long!"

"I've been here last week, hyung." Namjoon says but he seems a bit happy to be missed, sheepishly ducking his head.

"That's too long. You should visit more often, it's great! I get free coffee here and don't have to walk through muddy paths and ominous sounds to visit you."

"It's not free though?" Namjoon frowns, "You may own the shop but you're the one who buys all the coffee in the first place."

The man behind the counter makes a noise that's too distorted to understand. "If I wanted someone to tear apart my ideas with logic I'd talk to Yoongi, you're both insufferable."

You want to interject but at the same time don't. You get so absorbed in your own thoughts you almost don't notice when they mention a Yoongi. Huh.

"Oh, you know Yoongi? The cat?" You blink when two sets of eyes settle on you.

"Ah, yes. Yoongi." The man you've now established has to be Seokjin sighs, resting a chin over his palm, "The devious fiend. The pest of the nest. The gremlin goblin."

"Do you ever think before you speak."

"I do! I thought of those words and then I said them."

Namjoon sighs and none of them elaborate any further, but you decide not to pry. You can always just ask Yoongi, anyway.

You both sit in a booth in the far corner where light reflects onto it perfectly but not in an overwhelming way, just enough to be warm and comforting. Seokjin pads over with your drink and Namjoon's latte and shoots excessive finger guns as he leaves, and Namjoon looks a bit like he's refraining from apologizing on his behalf.

Namjoon doodles on napkins and talks like he's reciting a far off poem, except he's talking about what should be the correct pronunciation of pickles and you're kinda maybe really hopelessly endeared.

"Do you think I should paint my nails?" He's saying, closely inspecting his nibbled nails, "Maybe it will make me stop biting my nails."

"Have you thought of green?"

He hums delightedly, "Green! I love green. I'm thinking pink though, since gender norms are a social construct and pink is just pretty in general."

"You'll look like a pretty little winter fairy!" You grin. He flushes pink, too.

Then when you get up to order another drink he stands quick, as if intending to order it for you, but you're already grinning and skipping to the counter and when you turn to look at him he's slowly sitting back down, defeated.

You're maybe smiling too hard when Seokjin walks to take your order. "Ah, Y/n-ssi! How may I help you, my gentle woodland elf?"

"Can I just have the same thing, please?" You say and he hums, walking mechanically towards his cabinets.

Then after staring dazedly at the separate christmas mugs and cinnamon buns and droopy plants, you're looking around when you spot a box by the back counter that looks like an awful lot like a letter slot, a stack of envelopes sitting neatly on top. Oh.

"What's that for?" You gesture towards the box, and Seokjin turns away from the coffee grinder to smile something a little gentle. A little secretive.

"We're a letter shop too, you know?" He looks like he's suppressing a sort of devious smile he doesn't want you to see, "We deliver letters on the writer’s behalf, so the sender stays anonymous."

Your organs twist and melt together all at once. You mumble a small "Oh" and that's that.

Then when you leave Seokjin winks before sending you both off, the man waving boisterously and maybe obnoxiously but you're immensely endeared, wave back until the shop is out of sight and Namjoon is sufficiently embarrassed.

You predictably invite Namjoon inside after you arrive home, deciding that soup after coffee doesn't sound too bad. So you watch as the fireflies do somersaults and the moths hover over lamps as you both go for seconds and then for thirds and you don't say much, maybe say nothing at all, but that's okay, too.

The soup signals a change, you think. Either

1) You are in love with Namjoon and need to tell him.

2) You are in love with soup and need to seek help.

So you walk through the forest.

Namjoon is at home, you know, but you feel that talking to Namjoon about your possible love for Namjoon is a bit counterproductive, so you walk through the forest instead.

Everyone is still adjusting to last night's downpour, the floors muddy and the leaves droopy and everything smelling like wet earth. You walk but you're hovering a few inches off the ground, silently thank the forest for its kindness.

You walk through the forest again the next day, think back to the tree with the bird feeder and think that maybe he wasn't so vague after all. Just wish that he could tell you what to do next.

It's easier to listen to a tree's vague advice than it is to follow through with it, you think, until a few weeks later, when the universe decides you need a little push. A big push. The biggest push.

Namjoon has been visiting consistently for the past month or so, sometimes staying over and sometimes staying just before nightfall, but for maybe a week you haven't heard of him at all. He's disappeared without a trace.

The forest guides you this time, patches of sunlight shining through trees as you follow. You think you hear the shrill argument between a finch and a jay on the treetops as you navigate through mushroom patches and mossy rocks.

It's the field of wisteria. You're in the field of wisteria when you find a small burrow, a little home for a woodland creature.

When you turn, you see-- Namjoon. Namjoon, eyes widened in horror, a strangled sound breaking free from his throat. Two white fox ears standing ramrod straight on his head.

You clear your throat. Say, "Hi, Namjoon."

He shrieks.

A finch flutters onto the bird feeder, eyes twinkling, "Guys, you will not believe what I just found out--"

"We know," the jay says.

"We know," the bluetit says.

"We know," the sparrow says.

Even Yoongi mewls from a higher tree branch.

The finch squawks, gossip stolen from right under its wing, "How on Earth did you all know?"

"The forest made the house bigger," Yoongi drawls, tail swishing here and there, "And we all helped deliver the letters."

"Different from someone, we can actually keep secrets!" Says the jay, chest puffed proudly, ignoring the offended squeals from the finch.

"You know, it was actually kind of obvious."

You hum from beside Namjoon, his arm draped over the back of the couch inches away from dropping onto your shoulder. He wants to tug you closer, comb a hand through your hair, but the mere thought has his face burning and ears threatening to pop out at the stress. He's kissed you before, dozens of times, for many reasons and for no reason at all, but it all still feels a little nerve wrecking, like one push will have you burst at the seams.

(Which, frankly, is ridiculous-- you're the strongest person he knows, but-- but.)

"What is?" He says to distract himself.

"The letters stopped coming after you started showing up, and you literally took me to a letter shop." You falter and add, "And just.. the way you say things, it sounds like how you sound when you write. I don't know if I'm making sense, but it's-- nice." You explain, a hint of affection on your voice.

That has nothing to do with being a fox shifter and everything to do with you sitting so prettily next to him, smelling like Ilsan sunshine and kept promises and damp earth, like the forest itself.

"Hmm," he hums, a hand settling on your thigh, finally gathering the courage to drop his arm onto your shoulder--

"Namjoon, you really don't have to hesitate for this kind of stuff." You say, turning to look at him with a grin. His face burns as he clears his throat pointedly, crossing one leg over the other as he finally drops an arm over your shoulder.

"M'sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," You press a kiss to his chin, "And you better kiss me properly this instant, because it seems you still think that crocs are acceptable footwear. I'm gonna come to my senses any second now."

"Please don't," he says, a little wild. Then he's moving, nose brushing over your cheek, and then— and then—

A hand curling softly over your cheek, a little giggle, and his lips pressing gently over your own. Something a bit real. Un-takeback-able. You taste a lot like the poetry he writes, still writes, like you're pressing the wonders of the world to his lips, like he's skimming the universe with his hands.

(Once upon a time, you saved a fox lying in a field of wisteria.

The rest of the story is told in open envelopes, messages left for the moon to see.)

1K notes · View notes

watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Note

Harry forget a special date night with his girl because his ex calls him. He don’t have feelinhs for his ex but he don’t wanna be rude so he answer and forget everything. After a week of silence he give his girl a big suprise to make everything alright

okkkkk this got really long on accident oops :) i wasn’t really sure how i wanted this to go, and i got slightly off track of your request? but i hope you like it!

make it up

warnings: angst, relationship fights

word count: 4k

You huffed in frustration, checking your phone for the tenth time tonight. You wanted to give Harry the benefit of the doubt, you really did. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Maybe his producer had told him he absolutely had to stay late and finish some last minute work. Maybe he had gotten in an accident and his mangled car was laying at the bottom of a ravine somewhere. Maybe his phone had died.

The more excuses you tried to come up with, the more you realized what had really happened. He had forgotten. He had forgotten the date you had been planning together for weeks now, the one to celebrate the end of his tour. The one he had been talking about constantly, smiling about how excited he was to finally have you to himself for a few hours. Of course, he was incredibly grateful to his entire team and everyone who made his dreams reality, but sometimes he just wanted to sit down to a nice meal with you.

The two of you had barely had a second alone together since he got home a month ago. You had expected things to back to normal soon after he got home, but unfortunate that was far from what happened. You didn’t know there was so much for him to do after the tour was officially over. He still had to attend countless meetings with his team, discussing what things went well and what didn’t. He had to sit through hours and hours of interviews, answering questions that you really didn’t think were important. He just had to do so much; from how little you saw him, it felt like he was still halfway across the world.

The more minutes passed by, the more hope you lost. You had been fully dressed and ready, sitting at the kitchen table for over an hour now. He was supposed to be home at exactly 5, giving him enough time to get ready and make it to the 6:30 reservation at your favorite restaurant.

It was currently 6:10, and there was no sign of him. You had called him three times and sent at least 10 texts. This wasn’t like him. Even when he was busy, he always made time to shoot you a quick text to assure you he was okay and not ignoring you. But not tonight. Tonight, there was complete radio silence. Since Harry wasn’t answering, there was only one other person you knew to contact.

“Y/N, hi! Is everything ok?”

“Hi Sarah! Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Well, Harry got a text during one of the meetings. Apparently it was urgent, because he rushed out of there right away. Didn’t even say what it was about. We thought it was you.”

“Uh- no, no I haven’t heard from him at all. When was this?”

“4:30.”

“Oh,” you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. So he wasn’t ignoring you because he was in a meeting; he hadn’t been in a meeting for almost two hours.

“Y/N, I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Sarah comforted.

“Maybe,” you bit your lip. “But why is he ignoring me?”

“...I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe he’s not by his phone. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Y/N.”

“You’re probably right,” you sighed. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, anytime. Text me when he gets in. He’s an idiot for leaving you out of things, but I still want to make sure he’s ok.”

“I know how you feel,” you smiled sadly. “I will. Goodnight.”

-----

“So, I think the biggest thing we need to figure out is the merchandise. Harry, if you could get a head start on picking colors, maybe thinking of designs? Or if you could-”

She was cut off by Harry’s phone dinging loudly. He sighed silently in relief, smiling apologetically as he pulled it out of his pocket. He had been trying to pay attention, he really had. He just couldn’t concentrate on anything. All he could thing about was how he would be home soon, kissing the love of his life and finally having some time together with you. He could tell his absence had been hard on you, even though you tried to convince him you were ok. He knew it hadn’t been easy for you, because it had been absolute torture for him. He loved touring, he truly did. He loved the adrenaline rush of performing for thousands of people. He loved traveling; seeing new things and meeting ne people. He loved his job. But it was incredibly difficult to be away from you for so long. He hated not being able to hold you whenever he felt like it. He hated waking up alone in a different country every week. He hated only getting to see you for a few hours on a Skype call every week. He hated being in a different time zone, constantly playing phone tag and replying to messages hours after they had been sent.

So, when his phone went off, he reached for it quickly, hoping to see a text from you. He was unpleasantly surprised.

Lucille: We need to talk

Harry frowned. He hadn’t heard from his ex girlfriend in almost a year, since before he met you. They had broken up even before that, but they had remained friends. He quickly texted back.

Harry: Is everything ok?

Lucille: it’s urgent. Meet met at the coffee shop?

Harry knew exactly what place she was referring to. The quaint little shop had been their favorite place when they were together. It was fairly secluded from the street and not well known, so Harry wouldn’t be hounded by fans and paparazzi.

Harry: I’m in a meeting, and I’m not free tonight. Are you ok?

Lucille: it’s an emergency. Please come right now.

Harry’s eyes went wide. He didn’t still have feelings for her, but she was a friend. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he would feel awful if something bad happened and he had refused to help.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Mitch spoke.

“Harry, what happened? Is it Y/N?”

“Uh- I have to go,” Harry said, abruptly standing up and leaving the room.

-----

“Lucille?” He asked, looking around the little shop.

“Harry, I’m so glad you came,” she smiled up at him from their table in the back corner. He made his way over to her, concern on his face.

“Did something happen? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I just... I need to talk to you.”

“Lucille, why would you do that? I thought something horrible happened,” Harry sighed, sitting in the seat across from her.

“I didn’t think you’d come if you weren’t worried,” she explained, stirring her coffee.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She had always been dramatic, and not in a good way.

“What is it then? Why do you need to talk to me?”

She didn’t respond, she just pushed the second coffee cup toward him.

“It’s your favorite,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” he took a small sip, grimacing slightly. His taste had changed since he met you. He couldn’t stand black coffee anymore. He reached for a sugar packet, ignoring the shocked look on her face as he mixed it into the dark liquid.

“Really, Lucille, why am I here?”

She sighed, setting down the stir stick.

“I think you know why.”

“I really don’t,” he said sincerely, looking up from his cup. “You said it was an emergency, but you seem completely fine.”

“I’m not fine, Harry. I’m in love.”

“That’s good!” he said, completely misunderstanding the look on her face. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

“No, Harry,” she sighed. “I’m in love... with you.”

He drew back, slightly shocked at her words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m still in love with you, and I think you love me too.”

“Lucille-“

She cut him off. “No, Harry listen. Why would you come here if you weren’t? Why would you drop everything, leave a meeting, and come to a random coffee shop to meet me? You said you weren’t free tonight, but here you are.”

“Because you’re my friend!” He exclaimed. “You said it was an emergency, I couldn’t just ignore you. But I’m with Y/N, and we are very happy together. Speaking of her...”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, wincing when he saw the time.

5:37. Y/N’s going to kill me.

“Lucille, I have to go. I was supposed to be home at 5.” He stood up, ready to rush home. He felt terrible for being late and he prayed he would be able to move their reservation back an hour or two.

“Oh, so she’s that controlling?” She asked, her voice laced with condescension.

“No,” he quickly shut her down. “We have plans tonight.”

Her face fell and she looked crushed. “Please don’t leave.”

“Lucille-“

“Please,” her voice lowered to a whisper and she looked like she was about to cry. He sighed, sinking back into his seat.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to love me,” she looked quickly with tears on her face. “Like you used to.”

“I’m sorry, Lucille. We broke up. We aren’t together anymore. I’m with Y/N now,” he repeated his sentence from earlier. He pulled out his phone again, ready to text Y/N that he would be a few minutes late. He knew she would be upset, but at least she would know he was okay. His plan was wrecked, however, when his phone didn’t light up immediately. He tried again, jaw clenching when he realized it was dead.

“Ok, I really have to go. I can’t text Y/N to let her know I’m okay, so she’ll be worried.”

“Don’t!” She cried out, getting the attention of the few others in the shop. “She’s not as good as me. She doesn’t love you like I do! I’m better than her.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying very hard to stay calm. “Don’t speak about her like that.”

“It’s true! We were so good together, Harry, don’t you remember?” She leaned forward, grasping his hand in hers. “Don’t you want that back?”

“No,” he pulled away. “I don’t. I love Y/N. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s the truth, and I have to go.”

She grabbed him again, her sad face turning angry. “You will regret leaving me, Harry. I know all your secrets. I can spill things that will ruin you.”

“What, you’re blackmailing me into breaking up with Y/N?”

“Yes,” she said smugly.

“Fine. Do it. I don’t care.”

Her face fell. “What do you mean?”

“Ruin my reputation. I have Y/N, someone who loves me for who I really am, and not what the press is saying about me. That’s something you two don’t have in common. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he stood up, her hand falling away. “I have somewhere to be.”

-----

You had given up. You had changed out of your dress and into your pajamas. You were sitting on the couch, holding a book that you weren’t really reading. You were just waiting for Harry to come back. He better have a really good explanation.

Just then, you heard his key in the lock of the door. You sat up straighter, not taking your eyes off the book. You didn’t respond when you heard him call your name. You kept your head down, eyes glued to the book.

“Y/N,” he said, cautiously walking toward you. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re alive, then?” You said quietly, not looking at him.

“I’m sorry-”

You didn’t let him finish. You stood up, still not looking at him as you walked out of the room. He followed you as you made your way up the stairs and to the guest room.

“Y/N, what are you-”

“I’m sleeping in here tonight,” you said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you.

You heard a quiet knock on the door before his voice came again. “Please open the door.”

“Just leave me alone, Harry,” you said, pulling back the covers and climbing into the bed.

You hadn’t locked the door, but you realize you probably should have when you heard it softly click open.

“Go away,” you sighed, laying on your side and facing away from him.

“Please let me explain,” he said, sounding desperate.

“Not right now.”

“Y/N, just-”

“Harry,” you said harshly, cutting him off. “Please. Leave me alone.”

-----

The next few days were very unpleasant. You refused to speak more than three words to Harry. It was all one word answers and leaving the room as soon as he walked in.

You wouldn’t even stay in your bed with him at night. He had tried pulling you into your shared room, begging because “I can’t sleep without you.” You refused, pulling away from him and locking yourself in the guest room. Then he had tried following you in there, looking devastated when you pushed him out.

Finally, Harry had had enough. He couldn’t handle not being able to talk to the love of his life. He needed to talk to you. He needed to tell you all the minuscule details of his day, from what flavor muffin he had for breakfast to what color shoes Mitch had worn that day. He needed to hug you and kiss you and ask you what you wanted for dinner. Most of all, he needed to sleep next to you. He couldn’t take this anymore. He had to take Benadryl every night because he literally could not fall asleep without you.

He knew what he had to do. It’s not like this was some last minute thing, either. He had been planning this for months, since before he left for his tour. There was just a lot of finalizing to do before he could show you. He couldn’t wait anymore, though, so he picked up his phone and called his real estate agent.

-----

Harry followed you into the guest room before you could manage to shut the door behind you.

“Get out,” you said, not looking at him.

“No.”

This made you look up. So far, he had completely respected your wish for privacy, but apparently not anymore.

“Fine, then stay in here, but I’m leaving,” you went back to the door, but he grabbed your wrist before you could open it. You turned around, yanking your arm out of his grasp.

“What do you want?” You asked in frustration.

“I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t think there’s much to say, Harry. You forgot. You were excited- I was excited for this dinner, we were planning it for weeks. Then you forgot. You came home three hours late and you didn’t even let me know if you were ok. You could have been hurt or something, and I wouldn’t have known!”

“My phone died!” He defended himself.

“You could have used someone else’s! Where were you anyways?”

“I was with Lucille,” he said, looking very guilty.

“Oh, lovely! You stood me up to hang out with your ex. That’s just great.”

“That’s not what happened! Will you just let me explain?”

“Fine,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I- I have to show you something first.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “What is it?”

“Uh- you have to come with me.”

“No, Harry. Tell me.”

“I can’t,” he said sincerely. “It’s- please trust me, and come with me.”

“Trust you? What reason have you given me to trust you?”

“Y/N, please.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “Where is it?”

“We have to drive there.”

“Harry, it’s ten o’clock at night. I’m not going anywhere right now.” You narrowed your eyes. “You just want to get me in the car so I can’t walk away!”

“No- well, that’s an added bonus, but I promise, I really do have a place to show you.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your arms back to your sides. “Fine. Do I need to get dressed?”

“No, you’re totally fine,” he promised, looking down at his hoodie you were wearing. Even when you were completely pissed at him, you still wore his clothes. This brought a small smile to his face.

“Come on,” he held out his hand, not wanting to make the first move and upset you. You hesitantly took it, allowing him to lead you out of the house and into the car.

-----

You pulled up in front of the nicest house you had ever seen. The front was illuminated with lanterns and there was a large stone fountain capturing your attention.

“Where are we?” You asked, your confusion momentarily covering your anger.

“Come on,” he ignored your question, climbing out of the car and coming around to open your door. He helped you out, not letting go of your hand when you stood up straight. He walked you closer, an excited smile lighting up his face.

“Harry, seriously, what are we doing here?”

He still didn’t answer. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a key. Your eyes went wide as you began to understand what was going on.

He swung the door open, pulling you inside. You squinted, trying to see where you were as your eyes tried to adjust to the sudden darkness.

His hand found the light switch, flicking it on and washing both of you in the glow of the huge chandelier. You turned to him, your eyes still wide.

“Harry... what did you do?”

Suddenly he looked very shy. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as he looked around the huge room.

“I... kind of... bought a house.”

“You did what?” You sputtered. “You bought this house?”

“I did,” he smiled.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you buy a house just so I won’t be mad at you anymore? Because if you did, that was the stupidest-“

“No!” He cut you off. “No, that’s not why. I’ve been looking for a long time. A really long time. I’ve had my eye on this one for a few months now, I just figured... this could help me make it up to you.”

You were silent for a few seconds, staring into his eyes. He held his breath, not knowing what was going through your head.

“Are you crazy?”

“A little,” he laughed. “Are you... are you mad? About the house?”

“No,” your face softened when you saw how nervous he looked. “I’m not.”

“That’s good,” he blew out a big breath in relief. “Because it’s, like, 100% ours now. Not much I could’ve done if you were mad about it.”

“Which is why,” you smacked his shoulder. “You’re supposed to house shop with the person you’re going to be living with.”

“I know, everything’s just been so crazy lately. I knew you were stressed and I didn’t want to make anything worse.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you said, stepping closer to him. You hesitantly brought your arms up to wrap around him.

He seemed just as hesitant as you. He hovered his arms above your back, not sure where to put them. You pressed your face into his chest, inhaling his cologne and pressing against him. You hadn’t hugged him in so long. When he felt you relax, he finally put his arms down and hugged you back.

When you finally pulled away, there were tears in your eyes. His face became concerned again, bringing up his hand to wipe his thumb along your waterline.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, keeping one arm latched around you like he was scared you would run away.

“Because I’ve been awful to you the past couple of days. I shouldn’t have been so mad in the first place, I should have just listened to you and let you-“

“Wait a minute,” he cut you off. “You had every right to be angry. I promised you I would be home on time. Then I wasn’t, and I didn’t let you know. I was in the wrong here.”

“Maybe, but you didn’t deserve to be treated like I treated you. I never even let you explain where you were.”

“Do you want me to?” He asked.

“If you want to,” you exhaled shakily, trying to contain your tears.

“Like I said before, I was with Lucille- which I know sounds really bad, but just let me explain, yeah?”

You nodded, pulling away and taking his hand. You brought him over to one of the couches in the living room, pushing him gently to sit with his back against the armrest. His legs splayed out across the cushions, and you settled between them with your back against his chest. You leaned your head back, soothed by his rhythmic breathing.

“I was in a meeting and I was bored out of my mind. I got a text and I thought it was you, so I checked it. But it wasn’t you, it was Lucille. She said it was urgent , she needed to see me right then. I told her I couldn’t because I was busy but she kept saying it was an emergency. I didn’t think I could just ignore her, because what if something terrible happened? So I left the meeting and went to the coffee shop. She told me...”

You looked up at his face when he stopped talking. “She told you what?”

“She... said she loves me,” he explained, looking upset. “She freaked out, told me she “knew I loved her too” and that “we could be together again”.

“What... what did you say?” You asked, your voice a little shaky. You knew Harry loved you, but he had been with Lucille for over a year. It didn’t help knowing that Lucille was a beautiful model.

“I told her I was in love with you,” he said quickly, seeing the panic on your face. “I reminded her that she and I broke up a long time ago, and that I’m with you now.”

You relaxed a little, leaning against him again. “Bet she loved hearing that.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “She actually tried to blackmail me into leaving you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she said if I don’t leave you she’ll spill all my secrets and ruin my reputation.”

“What are you going to do?” You asked worriedly, sitting up to look at him.

“Nothing,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean nothing? Harry, you dated for over a year! What does she have against you?”

“Honestly, not much that I know of. I don’t exactly have any deep dark secrets,” he smiled.

“I guess,” you bit your lip. “Still.”

“Well, what would you suggest I do?” He joked. “Sue her?”

“Maybe, yeah. Defamation and all that.”

“Oh, definitely, I think that’s the way to go.”

“Absolutely,” you laughed, before a serious look came over your face again. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t-“

“Listen to me,” you said, looking into his eyes. “I was wrong to treat you so badly. You didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Of course,” you leaned against him again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Let’s never fight again, ok?”

“Ok,” he smiled. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve not been sleeping at all the past three nights, and I’m about ready to collapse. This house is fully furnished. What do you say we go find our bed?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#harry styles #harry fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction

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bound-up-feelings · 3 years

Text

Time x reader

Good News

Requested: Nope

Warning: Mention of a loved one possibly dying (Good ending I promise)

(Hello and I know I haven’t posted in a hot second but I’d like to say I'm sorry and I hope this fic makes up for lost time! Enjoy!)

Time was not a force to be reckoned with. He was a rude man who didn't seem to understand why people wanted to change the past so much. He had dealt with Alice for however long the amount of patience it took to get back the chronosphere. When he did get it back he was finally at peace and could go back to work. But that was short lived.

The day he met you, was like another weight on his shoulders. He felt that you would be the same as Alice and try to take the chronosphere. So he stopped you in your tracks before you could get a chance to speak "If you think you can steal the chronosphere and get away with it I promise you, I will not be nice to you. So don't waste me!" He says as his neck gears start to steam, causing his eyes to start glitching out. "I'm not here for that. I'm just here to ask a question?" His face drops and realization crosses his face "Oh, well don't waste me, talk fast." He says as he starts to walk away. You immediately start to follow him. Trying to keep up with his long strides which was beginning to become tiring "Can you slow down! I'm can't keep up with your giant steps." You say as you continue after him. Suddenly without warning he stops, bumping into him you gasp out loud "You had a question. What was it?" You give a straight and serious face before asking "When someone says soon, how long is that from now?" "If you are trying to vex me, it wo-" "No! I'm being serious, because I may lose someone if I don't know!" He sighs out "Soon can be in a second or two. Or it can be years from now. Why do you need to know?" You sigh out "I have someone that is very special to me that may be dying and I don't think I'm prepared for soon, whenever that might be." His eyes soften. He can see the real pain in your eyes when you mention this someone. "Follow me." He says as he continues to walk down some hallways with you following close behind. Then you walk into a room filled with endless rows of pocket watches suspended in the air. He stops and looks straight at you "Name?" "F/n L/n.." he nods and walks straight to the area that started with the letter of the first name. He looks at them before grabbing one. He looks at it for a moment, looks at you "What's the matter with them?" Worried you ask immediately "They're sick with something, the doctor hasn't figure it out yet." He sighs out and put the watch back "They'll be ok. They must have a cold or something, they have a long while till their moment is up." You sigh in relief and squat down. Silently thanking time and whatever higher power for this. He turns around after putting the clock back "Is that all?" You nod your head not saying a word. He stand there awkwardly not knowing what to do. If he was honest this was the first time he was speechless in front of a woman. "Do...you want to, uh....take a tour. With me around the place?" Looking up with teary eyes you think about it. Your friend turns out to just be a bit ill and will be ok. You could say no but he went through trouble to take you all the way here. So it was the least you could do. "Sure." You say as you stand up. He offers his arm to you and you take it.

You both had been walking in his halls and then the last place, the great clock he would ramble on about. When you got there you looked up at it in amazement. "Its amazing! This is so cool." He smiles and looks down, catching sight of the clock on his chest. "Would you like to see our connection?" You turn to look at him, you nod. He smiles as he parts his clothes away. When he turns to you and shows you the clock on his chest you smile. You squint and get closer, on reflex you wanted to bring your hand up and touch the clock but realized it wouldn't be mature of you to do so. He seemed to notice this and caught your hand before you could take it away. He slowly brought it up to his chest and places your hand on the outer ring of the clock "Be gentle, light touches, I do not want to to stop the clock to day." You nod and get closer, taking in all the fine details on the gold. You breath out a quite 'Wow!' and smile wide. He smiles at you and begins to blush as you look up at him "This is very amazing. Is everything as amazing as that? Or will I have to make more trips to see the ret of the castle?" It was a genuine question you were asking but somehow, this made him blush even more and somehow so did you. He looks down and shrugs his shoulders "I do not know, I quite like your company and would not mind you coming back." You nod and ask him to lead you to the exit. When he does so you turn back and gently place a kiss on his cheek. He blushes a scarlet red and swallows thickly. By the time his mind stopped racing and he looks back up, your were gone. Like you just disappeared into thin air. But he knew that within a reasonable amount of days you would be back. And then and only then would he give you a proper tour.

(Hello again and i hope you enjoyed this new fic, if so then please do leave feedback it helps way more than you know. Leave a request of you feel like! Also if you are into other fandoms other than Mr. Sacha Baron Cohen please go check out my other blog @hot-stickzz and @hotter-stickzz !)

#time x reader #time imagines #time headcanon #time #Alice Through The Looking Glass #Sacha Baron Cohen

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tangtownie · 3 years

Text

Ranny Daddy - Reader Insert x Ransom Drysdale (College AU)

Author’s Note: Okay, so this was supposed to be a quick re-write of an old story of mine but it kinda got away from me. This was originally about John Murphy from The 100, so if any of you want to thirst over him with me, drop into my inbox! ❤️

Anyway, College AU because the potential is just too damn great. An enemies to lovers kinda vibe, although they’re just FWB.

Also, the song inspo was one of my best friends that read this, and then told me that she’d found the perfect track to match it. So I listened to it, and agreed, and also realized that this story was really supposed to be about Ransom all along. So thank you, my darling! ❤️

About the title, I just… I don’t know. Before I started the re-write I had to name the document something, and when I was done, I kinda loved the title.

As always, dividers by the brilliant @firefly-graphics

Warnings: So… A lot of fucking cursing, smut, smut and smut, both reader and Ransom are kinda toxic bitches that are only soft for each other, kinda dub-con as reader is drunk when they get nasty, but she initiates it, Daddy kink, possessiveness and jealousy, unprotected sex. Ransom kinda switches between Dom!Daddy mode and soft!Daddy mode.

Song Inspiration: Violent Minds by VUKOVI

Word count: 4.283

The sound of his laugh was all it took. My stomach flipped and I could barely keep from jumping his bones right then and there. He had this douchy laugh, and it was just one of the things that I hated about him. He was crude, disrespectful and completely manipulative. He would always treat me like a plaything; grabbing my ass whenever he wanted, calling me every single pet name he could think of and of course, threatening to beat up any guy that got too close. It was honestly just so offensive and belittling and so damn sexy.

The scowl that always rested on his face, his rough hands that were always toying with me. God, how could someone so stupid be so damn intoxicating? I was not even sure how it all started, just that ever since I first slept with him, my body had been craving his like he was a damn drug. We had absolutely nothing in common and my friends all hated him, just as his friends all hated me. Another loud and obnoxious laugh drew my attention back to his group and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at those idiots. Ransom actually had quite the following and of course, they were all morons.

“Ugh, could you imagine actually dating one of those guys?” My friend Katy’s voice was the first thing in a while to pull my attention from Ransom. I was pretty jealous of that skank sitting in his lap and flipping her hair around like it was nobody’s business, not that I would ever tell him or anyone that. “Ugh, tell me about it.” I decided to turn my back on the scene, knowing that if I did not I would keep staring at them and probably see something that I did not want to see. Katy quickly sat down next to me and started going on about some rapport that was due in a few weeks. It was a typical day for us, meeting in the cafeteria for coffee and gossip in between lectures.

I leaned my back against the table and tried not to cringe at the excited squeal coming from the girl in Ransom’s lap. “God, what about having some self respect?” Katy questioned and I shot her a confused look. “That girl in Drysdale’s lap? I mean it’s not like there aren’t any chairs available. And those constant hair flips? Like “Oh my god, my hair is so fake but if I just keep flipping it around, maybe no one will know.”” I could not help the loud laugh falling from my lips as Katy finished talking.

She laughed happily with me and I pretended not to notice Ransom staring daggers at me, as him and his little posy had clearly heard everything Katy said. “Fucking sorority girls.” I was still laughing, a little louder than usual just to make sure Ransom heard. “Anyway, babe, I have to get to class. But swing by my place later, alright?” I quickly gathered my things, before pecking Katy’s cheek. “Of course! Bye babe.” She gave my ass a little slap as I walked away and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips, already feeling my mood improving.

Finally making my way across campus, I slipped into my usual spot next to Eric just before class started. I pulled out my books and laptop. “I swear to god this class is going to be the end of me!” Eric sighed dramatically. “Hon, you say that about all of them.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the offended face he shot me. “I’m serious. College is just too damn hard.” I huffed slightly as I nodded in agreement.

“You got that right.” College was hard, but I had also never felt as at home as I did here. I had my own little apartment just off of campus and it was a crapbox, but it was my crapbox. I had made some great new friends that were just as sarcastic and bitchy as me. And I was finally studying psychology. I did not really know what I wanted to use it for, but I also did not care. As cliché as it sounded, I was having the time of my life.

As per usual, Eric and I were the last to leave class, taking much too long to pack up our things and laughing as we did. Making our way back to the main building, my phone buzzed and I reached into my pocket to check it. As I saw whom the text was from and what it said, my breath hitched in my throat.

RD: “Your tits look great in that top 😜”

My eyes quickly scanned the vicinity, searching for him. Before I found him, my phone buzzed again.

RD: “Why are you wasting your time on that loser when you know how good I make you feel?”

I did not realise that I had stopped walking until Eric’s hand was on my arm. “Hon, are you okay?” His warm green eyes peered into mine curiously. “Yeah.” I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head trying to rid it off the flashes of my latest adventure with Ransom. “Yeah, I’m great. I just thought I dropped something.” I could not tell if he really believed me or not, so instead I started talking again.

“Anyway, Katy’s coming over, so I should run. But I’ll see you soon, okay?” He nodded quickly and waved at me as I started walking backwards, away from him. Once he started walking as well, I turned around to see where I was going and almost immediately crashed into someone. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. I dropped to the ground to help pick up the things that I had so rudely pushed from their arms.

“Well, how could I complain when you just dropped to your knees in front of me?” Ransom’s smug voice made the hairs on my arm stand up and I slowly got back up. “Hmm… Well, don’t get used to it, baby.” I smirked at him before offering his notes back to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with someone I actually want to see.” As I pushed past Ransom and his friends, a quiet gasp went through the group and I knew I would pay for that one soon enough.

When I made it home, I was greeted by what looked like a bomb crater and I was reminded of my stressful morning and the fact that I needed some new batteries for my alarm. I went into my bedroom to put my bag down and change into something comfier. I reached for my black cotton pencil skirt and tossed my jeans over the chair. I decided to take my top off as well, wearing only the skirt and my cropped flannel.

Katy was supposed to be here soon, so I ducked back out to living room and started cleaning up. I had managed to get the worst of it, just as there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” Katy quickly poked her head through the door opening, a smile covering her entire face. “Ugh, babe, you will not believe what happened today!” I could not help but mirror her smile as I looked at her. “Why? What happened?”

She put her bag down next to the door before riding herself of her coat and shoes. “I got the job!” She squealed and started jumping up and down. “What? Oh my god! That is amazing!” I squealed right back at her and ran towards her to jump around with her. “I know! They called me just as I was getting out of Brit Lit. Oh, I just can not believe that I will be working at a real publishing house!” Her squealing was reaching dangerous heights and I almost could not make out what she said, but that did not stop me from continuing to jump around squealing with her.

After hours of dishing, drinking and celebrating, Katy finally had to go home. Pouting, I followed her out to the front door, watching her quietly as she put her coat and shoes on. “Text me, when you’re home safe, okay?” I asked. She shot me a quick smile. “Of course, babe. I always do.” She gave me a quick hug and then made her way out the door. I wandered back into the living room again and started cleaning up, again. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Confused I made my way back to the door. “Babe? Did you forget something?” I asked, pulling the door open. The face that greeted me however was not Katy’s.

“Hugh?” The surprise was as evident in my voice as it probably was on my face. He was leaning against the doorframe smirking down at me. “God, I thought she would never leave.” He practically growled as he pushed his way past me. “No, please. Come on in.” The sarcasm was dripping from my voice, as I closed the door after him. When I came back into the living room, he was smirking again. “Looks like you girls had fun.” He looked sceptically at the empty bottles of wine and then back to me.

He smiled slightly as he noticed, that I was swaying a little. “Yeah, well, we did. Why are you here, Hugh?” I said, stumbling a little as I reached for my wine glass. “Oh no, I think you’ve had plenty.” Ransom quickly snatched it from my hand before I could empty it. I pouted again, trying to take it back from him. In my drunken struggle for my own damn drink, I did not even notice the breath hitching in Ransom’s throat as the buttons of my flannel had come undone and my chest pressed against his or the way he tensed slightly, as I whined in his ear, before giving up and resting my head on his shoulder.

“You smelly really good.” I mumbled as I nuzzled my face in his shoulder, slowly wrapping my arms around him. He laughed quietly before resting a hand on my lower back. “You’re so drunk.” His tone was almost gentle. A giddy smile broke out on my lips, as I looked back up at him. “You’re being nice to me.” I said quietly before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, your douchy holier-than-thou attitude is sexy as hell, but I don’t think you have ever been nice to me before.” His eyes sparkled at me and that signature smirk crept over his lips again.

“Sexy as hell, huh? And here I was starting to think that you were getting tired of me.” Shocked, I quickly shook my head no but had to stop as I stumbled slightly again. Ransom’s arms locked around me and held me tight against his chest. “I could never get sick of you, Hugh. I mean, you’re not a very nice person and I don’t actually think we have anything in common, but fuck… I cannot get you of my mind and I am not even sure why. It can’t just be the sex, even though the sex is pretty damn great.”

I let my head fall onto his chest again and sighed deeply. “Stay with me.” His hands squeezed my hips in response. “Sure, babygirl. I’ll stay.” A shiver made it’s way down my spine at the pet name. “Fuck, I love that.” I mumbled before pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Ransom’s grip on my hips tightened and I lingered there for a while, loving the feeling of his hands on my hips and the warm feeling of his skin against mine. Slowly pulling away for air, I took his hand in mine and lead him to my bedroom.

As we reached my bedroom Ransom’s hand fell from mine. I wandered over to the chair and softly tugged my skirt off, before turning to face him. “What are you waiting for? Strip.” My words seemed to pull him from his thoughts as his eyes went from scanning me all over to looking straight in my eyes. “What?” He sounded like he was choking on the word. I walked over to him, closing the distance between us again. My hands quickly grabbed the edge of his shirt and started pushing it up his chest.

“Strip.” I raked my nails carefully over his nipples and a light moan escaped his lips, before he helped me pull his shirt all the way off. Our eyes met again and for a few seconds we just stared at each other. He gently reached out and started unbuttoning the few remaining buttons on my flannel. As he did the last one, his hand moved up to my shoulder and slowly pulled it off. I let my fingers wonder about his chest again, tracing invisible patterns.

An impatient huff left his lips before he roughly grabbed my neck and crashed his lips onto mine. Almost instantly, I kissed him back. I let my arms settle around his neck and pulled myself even closer to him. Our teeth clanged together, as he greedily tried to swallow every breath of mine. His other arm snaked around my waist as he started guiding me back to my bed. Suddenly, he shoved me onto the bed and he smiled as my boobs bounced from the contact with the bed. I let myself get comfortable, knowing that Ransom liked to watch me. I let one hand twirl around some hair while the other rested comfortably on my bare stomach. My eyes locked with his again, as I patiently waited for him to join me.

Too much time had passed and I was starting to get cold and frankly also a little annoyed with him. “Come on, Hugh, just-“ His sharp voice interrupted me. “No.” There was a playful light behind his glaring eyes. “No?” I questioned, as I sat up. “Exactly, babygirl, you know that’s not my name.” A shiver travelled down my spine again at the pet name and Ransom noticed it, smirking from ear to ear. “What are you talking about, Hugh? Of course, that’s your name.” He shook his head, still glaring at me, before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“You know it’s not. And if you keep calling me that I might just have to punish you, babygirl.” My breath hitched in my throat as his scent took over my senses. He was so close; he smelled divine and damn it, if I hadn’t been thinking about this all day. I had to close my eyes to keep from pouncing on him. As everything I had been fantasising about all day started flooding through my mind, I remembered the last time Ransom and I had been here and a smile curled around my lips, before I opened my eyes and spoke.

“Oh, so Daddy wants to play, huh?” My tone was low and breathy. A strangled gasp escaped his lips at the pet name. “It must be my lucky day then, because I’ve just spend all damn day thinking about Daddy’s rough hands pinning me down while his big beautiful cock pounds into me.” I barely got the last word out before Ransom was all over me, pinning me to the bed with a ravenous growl. His entire body pressing against mine, as he kissed me like it might be the last thing he ever did.

My hands quickly tangled themselves in his hair and I arched my hips up to meet his. Ransom‘s teeth sank into my bottom lip and he tugged harshly on it. I couldn’t help the loud moan falling from my lips or my hands tugging harshly on his hair. His hands roughly grabbed my hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he pushed me upwards. A whimper escaped my lips when I couldn’t reach his any longer and I could feel him smirk against my throat. He slowly made his way down my body, sucking and licking all over, leaving a trail of hickeys over my neck, chest and stomach.

He stopped just as he reached my thong and I almost could not bear to look at him; so sinfully gorgeous, his hair falling into his beautiful blue eyes and his thin pretty lips already swollen and red. One of his hands moved to my thong, hooking his fingers inside of it and slowly pulling it down. I squirmed impatiently and he laughed at me. He casually flung it over his shoulder, before suddenly plunging two of his fingers deep inside of me.

I gasped loudly, surprised by his rough actions and clenched around his fingers. My eyes fell shut as he build up a steady rhythm and I relaxed again, relishing in having him so close to me. “No, no, babygirl, got to keep your eyes on me.” A strangled moan escaped my lips, as I struggled to focus on him. Our eyes locked and I watched him closely, as his gaze never fell from my face despite his fingers being buried knuckles deep inside of me and him placing shallow kisses on my lower stomach. He smirked at me again. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? So eager to please Daddy.”

His deep voice rumbled against my skin and my hands forcefully grabbed the sheets to keep from pulling on his hair. “Look, how responsive you are, babygirl. You fucking love this, don’t you?” He curled his fingers inside of me and I panted loudly as he brushed against my g-spot. I could feel the pleasure building and knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer. As Ransom mercilessly poked at my most sensitive spot, I could not help but lift my hips up, trying desperately to create some friction. He chuckled deeply before pinning my hips to the mattress. “Easy, babygirl. We’re almost there. Just relax.” His hand slowly crept across my stomach, until it reached my waist. Before I registered what had happened, Ransom had pulled his fingers from me and quickly turned me, so that I was on my stomach.

Surprised and confused, I let out a huff of air. “Hugh, what the-“ A high-pitched moan interrupted my sentence as he smacked my ass. I panted harshly, both from surprise and pleasure. At first it stung, but I couldn’t even pretend not to like it. His hands settled on my hips again, before he pulled me to him. My ass was flush against the front of his jeans as I was supporting my weight on my arms. “I told you, that’s not my name.” His deep voice made the goose bumps rise on my skin and a low moan escaped my lips.

He was so damn hot like this, all rough and angry and dominating. “You better play nice, if you don’t want me to stop.” He hummed slowly as his hand caressed the spot that he had just slapped and I grinded my ass against him. His erection was pressing tightly against me and all I could think of was having him inside of me again. “Daddy, please.” I impatiently begged for him and relished in the moan he tried to suppress. Another slap was delivered to my ass and this time I did nothing to hide how much I loved it.

A pornstar-like moan fell from my lips as I threw my head back and grinded against him again. His hands fell from me but before I could complain, I heard the sound of his pants being unzipped and seconds later they were thrown to the floor next to my bed along with his boxers. Ransom roughly slid his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and I arched my back at his touch. A sinful slurping sound filled the room as Ransom sucked my wetness from his fingers. “You taste so damn good, babygirl.” He hummed softly, as I moaned back, loving his filthy words.

His hands wrapped around my hips again and he pulled me harshly against him. His hard dick was rubbing all over me and I was loosing my damn mind from all of his teasing. I opened my mouth, completely ready and willing to beg for him again, just before he slid into me. A high-pitched whimper fell from my lips as he bottomed out and I relished in the feeling of being full of him.

Too quickly he pulled out, before slamming back into me. “Fuck.” Ransom grunted from behind me, building a fast and hard rhythm. His fingers were digging into my hips, trying to pull me as close as physically possible. I arched my back up and was met with his warm chest against my back. His hot, laboured breath was falling down my neck and only drove me closer to the edge. One of my hands tangled themselves in his hair and the other desperately grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his skin.

“You take me so well, babygirl. Letting my cock pound into you while you moan like a damn pornstar. You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Ransom’s voice was raspy against my neck and I almost lost my mind, when he intertwined our fingers and wrapped our arms around my waist. My legs started to shake beneath me and I let my head fall on his shoulder as he continued pounding into me. I moaned loudly as he pressed against my g-spot. “Just like that, baby. Take it. You’re mine.” Ransom practically growled in my ear, as he sped up.

He led me back down on the bed, pressing his lips to my neck and shoulders. His hand resting next to my head as he continued fucking me from behind. His other arm was still wrapped together with mine and around my waist, lifting my ass up slightly to meet him. Every time he thrusted into me, I moaned loudly, trying desperately not to fall over the edge just yet. My walls clenched around him and all I could see, hear or feel was Ransom.

“Mine.” He grunted harshly. “All mine.” My hand desperately reached for something to grab, but only found my sheets. “Yours.” I was surprised by my own voice, but it was like I had lost all control of it. “I’m yours, Ransom, any time, any day. All yours.” His head rested in the crook of my neck and he slowed down his thrusts. Slowly dragging himself out, before slowly pushing himself back in but never missing my most sensitive spot. “Ranny, Daddy, please. Please let me come.”

The desperate plea also left my lips without me controlling it. His hand flew to my clit and rubbed fast circles on it. A loud moan fell from my lips and my knuckles were turning white from grasping at the sheets. “Just let go, babygirl. I’ve got you.” I could feel the vibrations of Ransom’s voice through his chest and with a loud whine I finally let go. My eyes rolled back into my head as I clenched and unclenched repeatedly around him. My arms gave in and my pillow muffled the moans and profanities mixed in with his name.

He continued thrusting into me, riding out my high until he stilled. He was deep inside of me as I felt him release inside me. His loud groaning of my name, eliciting even more clenching on my behalf while his hips continued grinding into mine. My loud whimper mixed in with his panting as he slowly pulled out of me. He collapsed beside me on the bed and suddenly grabbed my face, slamming his lips back onto mine. His tongue eagerly met mine and I hurriedly wrapped my legs around his hips, trapping him there.

As I broke away for air, Ransom kissed his way down my neck and I could not stop the question falling from my lips. “Did you mean what you said?” He hummed softly against my neck, before biting down on one of the hickeys he had left there earlier. “Well,” he said as he broke away from my neck to look me in the eyes. “The sex is pretty damn great and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.” He brushed a few wayward strands of my hair away gently. “Not even when you’re completely ignoring me or making fun of my friends or pretending that you aren’t jealous of the girl sitting in my lap.”

A blush quickly spread across my cheeks at his last comment. “I didn’t think you noticed.” I said while running my fingers over his chest. “Oh, baby, I always notice you. Besides, it’s not like you could hide anything from me any more. I know all your tells.” His signature smirk was plastered on his lips again. “So the skank from today?” I couldn’t help but ask. A small laugh left Ransom’s lips. “Was just a skank that means nothing to me, yeah. Now, what about that boy-toy of yours?” Ransom narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “My boy-toy is named Eric and is actually gay.” I said and smirked at him.

“What?” The surprise was evident in his voice. “Yeah. I actually think that you know his boyfriend Liam. Apparently, he’s in a lot of your classes.” I shrugged as I finished talking. Ransom wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. “Jesus, how the hell did I not know that? I’m a damn idiot.” I rested my head on his chest, before speaking. “Yeah, but I guess you’re my idiot now.”

#imagine #chris evans #reader insert #ransom drysdale #fan fiction #smut #reader x ransom #reader x ransom drysdale

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lunarastrobabe · 3 years

Text

Sam Drake x F!Reader- Thief

(Mainly Fluff. No warnings.)

“Look Sam, just admit it, we’re lost.” You whined, folding the map back up and stuffing it into your fanny pack that was slung across your chest. The snow crunching under your combat boots as you walked, the icy wind nipping at your skin like sharp needles. The sun was out, shining across the snow making it sparkle like glitter.

You were in Sweden chasing some leads on lost Viking Treasure, but this time with just you and Sam. Nate had a baby on the way, even though he wished he could come, he needed to look after Elena. You had both been left with an empty, unsatisfied feeling after finding Avery’s treasure few months before, but with Sam, it hit him hard the most. But being here with him, now, was all you ever wanted. You two were just friends, but he was your best friend, you could always count on him whenever you were in trouble or whenever you needed support, he was always there. You were in love with him, and you had been for a long time, all you wanted to do was tell him but never found the right time. You were hoping he already knew.

“We are not lost, you just don’t know how to read a map.” He said in a snarky tone, walking up beside you and unzipping your fanny pack and pulled out the map again so he could take a closer look at it.

“You’re an ass. You know I’m smarter than you.” You elbowed him in the rib. He jerked a little clutching his side with his hand.

“Rude.” A light laugh left his lips, his breath showing from the cold, turning his head and smiling at you. “Now, lets see where we are.” He carefully scanned the map, you just watched him with a smile on your face, taking in every little detail and aspect of his skin, his hair blowing in the breeze. His hazel eyes had a glow from the suns rays, you could look into them forever, like tiny golden pools. Being in Sweden with Sam reminded you of being in Scotland with him and Nate, with Nadine’s army blowing shit up every five seconds.

“Right, we are here. We need to get to that wooden structure over there.” His fingers pointed to the area on the map then to a building in the distance, luckily it was still standing but who knows, everything you’ve stepped foot on in the past has either exploded or fallen apart. You weren’t listening to a word he said, too busy falling even more in love with him than he already knew. He felt your eyes on him, folding the map and putting it into his sherpa jacket pocket.

“Like what you see, hm?” He said in a seductive, husky tone purposely in your ear then pushed your shoulder gently to get your attention back to the mission. Your cheeks felt a burning sensation, either from the cold or from embarrassment for staring for so long. You snapped yourself out of it and scoffed, “You wish Samuel,” then rolling your eyes and continued walking along the path along the cliff, staying as far away from the edge as possible.

“Alright, so what exactly are we looking for?” You asked, putting your hands in your pockets to keep warm, you were freezing, and you were sure he was too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. You looked at the ground and at every step you took, kicking snow off your boots as you went along, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Well, it’s a very, very old viking helmet, supposedly encrusted with the finest jewels and diamonds.” A smile was brought to his face, he loved to talk about hidden treasures and artefacts, especially talking to you about it in particular. He was thankful that you’d listen to him, for hours even, sometimes he would come over to your place at four in the morning just to talk about lost cities.

“And how much is it worth? Um, do you think?” You stopped in your tracks to look at him, the excitement was showing in him and he couldn’t contain himself.

“Not as much as Avery’s treasure but, a great amount,” He shrugged. “I’m just glad I’m not searching for it alone.” Your chest tightened slightly at his words, you swore you could feel the love rising inside of you.

“Me too.” Was all you could say, you just so badly wanted to tell him you loved him, that you loved every scar, every wound, every scratch and mark that covered his body and that you still thought he was perfect.

“We should start climbing now.” You said looking up at the tall black cliff that stood before you and rubbed your hands together to keep them warm.

“Need a boost m’lady?” He smirked, he always liked to give you the first boost, just to get a good look at your ass every chance he got.

“Thank you, loverboy.” You gave him a flirtatious wink as he crouched down a little in front of you holding out both his hands on his knee. Holding onto his shoulders you stood in his hands and he pushed you upside the cliff, grabbing onto the first hand hold you saw incase you fell. Falling to your death into a black abyss was not on your agenda right now. Sam watched you in awe at your skills and your strength, memories of yours and his friendship from the Avery job was circling his mind, wishing he had made a move before, wishing he had kissed you back in Italy when you were in that skin tight, red dress that brought out your eyes. That night he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, almost forgetting to steal the cross from the auction. And the time you also got shot while he tried to cover you, he still blames himself for getting you hurt but you were a strong girl, and you still are and he knew that. Not realising you were at the top of the cliff already while he was drowning in his own thoughts about you, you called down to him, catching his attention.

“Sam? Are you coming or are you going to just stand there?” You shouted down to him, he snapped from his thoughts and laughed awkwardly.

“Yes ma’am.” Talking to himself, he ran his fingers through his hair and jumped up, climbing the cliff faster than you could but he was more trained than you at scaling high places and considering he was taller. He grunted, pulling himself up on the ledge and standing up, brushing the snow off his jeans. You felt your hands get colder, he noticed you shivering, since you were high up the wind was a little stronger and a lot more colder. Fuck, you hated winter when you weren’t inside your home, drinking hot cocoa, reading Sam and Nate’s mom’s journal by the fireplace, wondering how amazing of a mother she was to them.

“Hey, you’re cold. C’mere.” He quickly wrapped his hands around yours before you could say anything, he brought your hands to his lips, giving them small warm kisses, his eyes looking into yours. His surprisingly warm hands making you feel safe and secure. All you could do was smile, “Thanks Sam.” You whispered, he pulled you a little closer to him by the hands, holding them to his chest.

“Anytime darlin’,” His smile was your favourite thing about him. He removed his hands from yours and wrapped them around you holding you tight against him to keep the warmth in before resuming your quest. His chin settled on the top of your head, your ear was pressed to his chest and you could hear his heart pounding a million miles an hour. His cologne was strong, but he wasn’t wearing a lot.

“[Y/N]?“ He felt like his chest was going to explode at what he was about to say. He was nervous, but it was a good feeling. He was sure of it. He wasn’t usually nervous around women, he was actually very confident in flirting and making moves on the girls he’d come across in bars, or on the job. He knew this was something real, something different with you.

“Hm?” You lifted your face away from his chest and looked up at him.

“I have to tell you something.” He pulled back from the hug, taking a seat down on the snow away from the edge of the cliff you had climbed up from.

“Okay, is everything alright?” Your voice was full of worry, going over and sitting beside him, stretching your legs out in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine, it’s just-,” He tied up the laces tighter on his boots, accidentally kicking snow at you. Brushing it away you watched him, waiting for his explanation.

“Sam, spit it out, we got a lot of ground to cover. You can tell me anything.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently touching his cheek with your thumb.

He turned to face you. Taking a deep breath, hoping you wouldn’t run away or slap him for what he was about to say.

“I love you.” He reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sam-, I-, wha-, really?” You were surprised, but not that surprised, he would always find a way to make you notice him, sometimes he’d find a way to ‘accidentally’ touch your hands or your body or compliment you at any given time.

He chuckled, “Yeah, really.” He felt proud, he felt good about himself that he was finally able to tell you, especially in a beautiful country such as Sweden and sitting in the snow looking at the view, with a pink and blue sunrise shining over the mountains.

You leapt over and pushed his back to the ground, straddling his body, his hands immediately attaching to your waist. Leaning down you whispered in his ear, he shivered at the feeling more than the cold ever could.

“I love you too.” He moved his hand to your face bringing you to look at him, pushing your hair out of his face and gripping your neck gently, finally kissing you like he had been begging to do. Your tongues making contact with each other, the nicotine and breath minty taste collided with your tastebuds. Kissing for what felt like hours but was only a few minutes, he pulled back just to gaze into your eyes once again, his hazel eyes glowing with happiness.

“Goddamn I’m a lucky man.” He sighed happily, running his fingers through your hair.

“What can I say? A thief stole my heart.” Both laughing you went in for another passionate kiss.

#sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted 4 #uncharted lost legacy #the lost legacy #a thiefs end #uncharted 4 a thiefs end #uncharted

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Sweet Pea//you like her better

Request: sweet pea. reader loves him but he kisses Betty (or whoever) at a party because he wants to piss off/make the reader hate him because she’s always loved him (she doesn’t know that he knows about her love) & the reader not wanting to look at him because she finds out that he did it to hurt her? Hmm fluff at the end but the reader makes him earn her attention/trust back for a bit? Fluffy ending maybe? Thanks bud

hey!! it’s angsty with a happy ending! what more could you want? how is everyone? i hope you’re all well. and i hope you like this!!

Do you know when you first meet someone and you know from the first encounter that they’re special?

That’s what you felt the first time you met Sweet Pea. Standing beside each other at one of Veronica’s parties, both of you were confused as to what you were even doing there.

You and Veronica barely said a word to each other in all the time she’d been here and the only time Sweet Pea had spoken to her, the words they exchanged were just insults.

So you weren’t entirely sure why you were there, but when Sweet Pea spilt his drink down your t-shirt and instantly started to apologize, his brown eyes meeting y/e/c ones, you know he was something else.

The rest of the night was spent on the balcony talking about how much you didn’t want to be there, however the more you talked the more you didn’t want to leave.

And by the time the sun came up and the neon lights faded, you’d made a friend for life...and hopefully something a little more.

He’d walked you home and the two of you swapped numbers and by Monday he knew more about you than most of your childhood friends did.

That became a problem though, because the more you talked to him, the more you felt yourself falling for him, until after a year of friendship you longed for something more. You were well and truly in love with him, no looking back.

And it was so obvious to everyone but him. Or at least that what you thought. You thought your lingering looks and yearning wan’t that noticeable. And in tv shows, whenever someone is in love with their friend, everybody but them see it.

But like you thought when you first met him, Sweet Pea was special, and so he knew from the first moment that you were falling for him. He just couldn’t figure out how to get out of it.

At first he hoped you would just forget about it, it would just be a stupid little crush that would last a few weeks and then you’d realize that in fact he wasn’t the lovable giant that you so often referred to him as. He was deeply flawed with rough edges and dislikable personality.

But as time went on and he opened up more and more in the hopes that you’d just see him as some loser from the southside, you saw him for who he really was. A sweet guy, born on the wrong side of the tracks with so much potential and a smile that could light up the whole of Riverdale.

Now he was constantly aware of the staring when he wasn’t looking, or how you’d blush whenever he would brush past you. And the fact that you’d do anything for him. It killed him to see just how much you’d do for him, and it killed him even more to know that he’d do the same for you.

He wants to love you. God, he wants to love you and be loved by you properly.

But the southside has made him a shell of who he should be and now he doesn’t know how to love someone properly. He watches as his friends stumble through their relationships and cringes because some of the things they do are questionable at best.

He doesn’t know how to fully open himself up to a person and you deserve someone that will love you the way you deserve. He doesn’t want to hurt you, that’s the last thing he wants. He’d rather die than hurt you. But sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to in order to help the ones you love

...even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time.

It’s Friday night which means another party thrown by someone he barely knows. This time it’s Veronica again, and he stands in the same corner he always does, holding two drinks while he keeps his eyes trained on the door waiting for you to turn up.

Half an hour after you said you’d be here, you turn up with Toni and Cheryl, and as soon as you walk through the doors, he watches you look for him.

“Y/n!” He shouts but its no use, the music’s too loud and there’s so many people you can barely move. So instead he waves his arms around and your eyes light up when you find the familiar jacket, and then the serpent attached to it.

You tell Cheryl and Toni you’ll catch up with them later before pushing through the mass of people. Sweet Pea places the plastic cups down and grabs your hand to pull you through the last few people, and when you stumble he steadies you.

You stare at him, a soft smile on your face as you look up at him and he quickly clears his throat and stands up straighter.

“So, what time do you call this?” He asks and pretends to check his watch.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes. “Cheryl insisted on doing my makeup and you know what she’s like. This is my third look of the night.” You complain but do a little twirl. A smile twitches at his lips as he watches the dim lights dance over your skin, you do look good.

Who’s he kidding, you always look good. You could be wearing a trash bag and you’d still be the prettiest girl on the planet, not that he’d tell you that.

“Yeah.” He shrugs and looks you up and down. “You look alright.”

“Ass.” You mutter and slap his arm lightly. “Is that mine?” You point to the drink on the side table and he nods, handing it to you.

“Yeah, I spat in it so I knew which one was which.” He says and you roll your eyes as you take a sip.

“Thanks.” You mumble and settle beside him. The two of you lean against the wall and watch as people dance, puke and kiss, sometimes all at the same time and your expression mirrors Sweet Pea’s disgusted one.

“How long have you been here.”

“Hours.” He replies and you send him an annoyed look.

“You just like to hang out at Veronica’s house do you?”

“Yep. It’s my favourite thing to do.” He replies. “About 45 minutes. Fangs was with me but he disappeared after a few minutes so I’ve just been here...waiting for you...all alone.” He pouts and you send him a sympathetic look.

“Aww.” You pinch his cheeks. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“Its fine.” He shrugs. “I got some peace and quiet before you turned up.” He teases and your look at him offended.

“Rude.” You mumble and take another drink. “Do you know, I was going to offer to get you another drink but after that, no chance.”

“Pleaseee.” He begs. “I’ve been holding at empty one for half an hour because I was waiting for you. And I could have drank yours, but I didn’t because I’m such a great friend.” He pleads and sends you another pout.

That stupid damn pout. It works every time and he knows it.

“Fine.” You grumble and push yourself off the wall. “What do you want?”

“Anything.” He replies. “Just as long as it gets me drunk.”

“Just vodka it is then.” You smile brightly and wave the empty cup around.

“Please, mix it with something!” He calls after you but you’ve already disappeared into the crowd. He see’s you emerge on the other side and a soft smile appears on his face as he watches you and Fangs talk for a few minutes.

While you’re talking he quickly pulls his phone out and types a message to you.

‘please hurry...i’m dying...of dehydration’

The buzzing in your pocket makes you pause your conversation with Fangs so you can check your phone, and when you do you have to hide the smile as you look back past the crowd and flip him off.

‘then perish’

You reply and watch him open it, his jaw drops as he looks back at you and you send him a sweet smile before eventually walking into the kitchen.

For ten minutes he waits patiently by the wall for you to come back, but when it get’s closer to twenty, which feels more like a lifetime, he decides to go find you. Only a lot worried that you’ve passed out or injured yourself somehow.

But what he finds is so much worse.

He hears your voice first and a smile makes its way onto his face, and then he hears Toni and Cheryl and his eyebrows furrow as he tries to decipher what you’re taking about. You sound worried, and you’re speaking too quickly for him to properly hear, so he stands just outside the doorway and hopes the three of you don’t notice him.

He knows he shouldn’t, it’s not cool to spy on your friends. But he wants to know if you’re okay, and why whatever is wrong, you don’t just talk to him about.

But then he hears it and he realizes why you haven’t spoken to him about.

“Just tell him.” Toni says, her tone kind as she speaks to you, and Sweet Pea’s eyes widen.

What? Nope. This can’t be happening.

He knows he should leave now before it gets any worse, but he can’t. He needs to know what you’re going to do.

“But what if he doesn’t like me back?” You reply and he can hear the huff in your voice.

That’s not possible. He liked you from the moment he met you. There’s was something about you that was different to all of the other northsiders. You were kind, and you didn’t care about where he came from or who he was. You just seemed happy to be making a friend.

He’d likened you to a golden retriever, maybe not the best thing to say to a girl you’ve just met, but your smile just brightened and he knew you were the one.

‘don’t let go of this one’ he remembers thinking. But what if he has no choice?

To love Sweet Pea is like being cursed, or at least thats what he thinks. He has no family left, and it’s only a matter of time before Toni and Fangs figures out that he’s bad news.

But to you, loving Sweet Pea is the most magical thing in the world.

“What? Are you being serious? Of course he likes you back.” Cheryl interjects, she sounds slightly annoyed and Sweet Pea gets the impression that you’ve had this conversation before.

“Bu-”

“No, buts.” Toni cuts you off. “Just tell him already. My god the two of you just need to kiss and be done with it, we’re all sick of the gooey eyes.” She continues and Sweet Pea feels his cheeks heat up.

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Yes!” They both say at the same time.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll tell him later.”

“Good. And then hopefully you two can stop moping about each other and just be together already.” Cheryl replies.

“He mopes about me?” You ask with hope in your voice.

Sweet Pea doesn’t mope...okay, maybe he does.

“Well, he doesn’t do it out loud, but you can tell.” Toni shrugs.

“Bu-”

“Toni!” Cheryl’s shouting cuts you off and Sweet Pea quickly moves back to let them past, luckily they don’t notice him and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Coming.” Toni replies. “Good luck.” She looks back at you and you send her an uncertain smile.

“Thanks?”

Fuck. What does he do now? You’re going to confess your undying love to him and he’s just going to stare at you like a complete idiot for two minutes before stuttering a really shit excuse as to why now isn’t the right time and then you’re going to cry and hate him forever. What does he do? Oh god, fuck, okay you’re coming over. Quick, erm.

“J!” He shouts and turns around to face the purple haired girl.

“What do you want Sweet Pea?” She asks with an eye roll and he already hates himself for what he’s about to do.

“I’m really sorry about this but please go along with this I’m begging you.” He whispers in her ear and you watch as she looks at him confused before he kisses her.

Yours and J’s expressions matches each other. Wide eyed and horrified.

“Hey, Y/n. What’s up?” Fangs asks, the smile on his face fades when he notices what you’re looking at and he tries to reach out to you. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“It’s fine.” You move away from him. “I’m good.” You say more to yourself than him. “Everything’s fine. I’ve er, I’ve got to go. Tell him I said bye.”

“Y/n.” He calls after you. Toni and Cheryl appear beside him and they watch confused as you leave. But when Fangs points back at Sweet Pea they let out a small ‘oh’.

“Sweet Pea!” J pushes him away. “What the hell?”

“I know. I’m really sorry but I-”

“Idiot.” She mutters and storms off leaving him standing in the middle of the floor.

“Sweet Pea? What the hell was that about?” Toni scolds and he walks past her.

“Just leave it T.” He sulks and walks out into the cool air. He can see walking down the street, your jacket pulled tight around you and he desperately wants to follow you, but he knows it’ll only make things worse.

You’ll either shout at him or forgive him and he doesn’t know which is better.

So instead he walks in the opposite direction and hopes that you’ll understand why he did it eventually.

----

The next day Fangs and Toni come over to see how you are, but after five minutes and way too many ‘i’m okay’s’ they’re sent away and you spend the rest of the weekend crying and cursing Sweet Pea, even though you told them ‘as long as he’s happy, i’m happy’.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday comes and goes and you don’t really say much to anyone. You mainly just sit on the outside of your friendship group and don’t say anything. Sweet Pea sits opposite you doing the exact same thing and your friends all exchange glances.

Its not the same without you laughing loudly at a joke he’s told that nobody else found funny. Or with him stealing your food and you shouting at him. It’s just not the same without you two.

By Thursday though, Sweet Pea feels like it’s gone on for too long, he needs to apologize and make things right. So he corners you when you’re on the way to class with Betty, your expression hardens as soon as you see him and he feels his chest and stomach tighten, it’s like someone is twisting the knife already in there, but he stabbed himself in the first place.

“Y/n. I’m really sorry about the other day. I didn’t want to you to find out like that.”

“Okay.” You shrug and he sends him a pleading look. You really want to tell him that everything is okay, but you can’t. You know you should be happy that he’s happy, he is your best friend after all, but you just can’t force yourself.

It hurts to much to think about, let alone to look at him.

“Y/n. I’m really sorry.”

“I said okay Sweet Pea.” You huff. “Can I go now?”

“I know you don’t mean it.” He says.

“Well, thats as good as you’re going to get soooo.” Betty watches you in silence, not really sure what to do. Should she walk away and leave you to talk it out? Should she stay for moral support?

“I need to tell you something.” He says and takes a deep breath. You stop and look at him, your eyes narrowing as you take in the guilty expression.

“What?”

“I think it’s better if we go somewhere else.” He tries but you stand your ground.

“It’s fine. You can tell me here.” You say and cross your arms.

“Fine.” He lets out a long sigh. “I know you like me...more than like me. I have for a while and I only kissed J so you’d stop.” He admits and your jaw goes slack.

You’re sure you can feel your heart being ripped at two and you’re very sure you, Betty and half the school has just watched Sweet Pea stamp on it too. You suck in a breath and Betty places a gentle hand on your arm for support.

“Okay.” You say and bite your lip.

You refuse to cry in front of you, you can’t think of doing anything worse...apart from loving him.

“I’m so fucking sorr-”

“Do you know what hurts more?” You ask, cutting him off and he stares at you. “What hurts more is that you did all of this as still my ‘friend’. It doesn’t matter how I feel about you, but I’m still your friend, or at least I was until you decided to deliberately hurt me instead of just talking to me.” You rant and let out a shaky breath at the end, you so close to crying you can feel it. As soon as he walks away you’re going to dissolve into a puddle of tears, but for now, you need to make him think you hate him.

You really want to hate him, but you can’t. You don’t like him, far from that. You can barely look at him, and you make sure to tell him.

When you met him you he was wonderful, you couldn’t stop looking at him and you never wanted to. But now it makes your chest ache and your head hurt to look at him and remember what you used to be and how he made you feel.

“You didn’t talk to me either.” He replies, crossing his arms and thats the final straw.

“Can you blame me? Especially after that?” You say and he’s never seen you act so cold. “Can we go to class now Betty?” You ask and she nods quickly, side-stepping Sweet Pea and pulling you with her.

“Y/n.” Sweet Pea calls after you and for a split second he thinks you’re going to come back to him.

But when you do turn around, it’s not what he wanted.

“Just leave me alone.”

----

It seems that Sweet Pea can’t take a hint. Which in the past you found endearing, but now you’ve taken off your rose tinted glasses, it’s just annoying.

And so when he tries to talk to you outside of yet another class, you snap.

“What!” You stop abruptly and the few students that were following you quickly move around you, wanting to be as far away as possible. Even Sweet Pea takes a few steps back and it makes both of your chests ache. “Sweet Pea, I’m not in the mood to be bothered. What do you want?”

“For you to forgive me and for everything to go back to how it was before?” He says hopefully but you just stare at him.

“Not gonna happen.” You shake your head and start walking away. But it seems he’s even more persistent than usual today and so he follows you until he’s stood in front.

“Then I’m going to keep waiting outside your classes and putting notes in your locker and texting you and sending Toni and Fangs to find out how you are until you do.”

“Isn’t that bordering on stalking?” You ask bored.

“...Maybe. Maybe I’ll think of something less creepy, but if you hear me out neither of us will have to deal with that.” He tries and forces a smile.

“...fine.” You mumble and cross your arms over your chest staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry.” He says and you look at him harshly.

“What for?” You ask and he stares at you confused.

“What?”

“What exactly are you sorry for Sweet Pea? Is it for knowing how I felt and not saying anything, or is it for kissing someone else to purposelessly hurt me?”

“Y/-”

“Or is it for making me fall in love with you in the first place?”

“Y/n.”

“It doesn’t matter Sweet Pea. You’re forgiven. Happy?”

“Not really no.” He shakes his head in frustration.

“Then what?”

“I want you to know why I did it.”

“Here we go.” You mumble but he just ignores you.

“I did it because I was scared.” He says making you scoff and rolls your eyes. “I was. Because you’re brilliant and lovely and kind and smart and clever and hot and you know what you want. But I’m not and I don’t. You are far too good for me Y/n, I knew that the moment I met you. And then I noticed you change and at first I thought it was something I’d done wrong, but then I realized it was because you liked me and I couldn’t handle that. You are far too good for me, I think I’ve just proven that, and so I tried to push you away, not too much because I still wanted you in my life, I just didn’t want you to waste your own.”

“Sweet Pea.” Your expression softens and you feel yourself slowly starting to forgive him. “Why didn’t you just talk to me in the first place instead of doing all of this. I would have understood. But for the record, you are all of those things and more, and I mean that as just a friend. I promise.” You say and he cracks a smile.

Something clicks and and the two of you feel yourself fall back to how you were. It may not be the same as it was but you think you can get there again.

“Would you like to walk me to class?” You ask and he nods quickly.

“Of course.” He grins and the two of you fall into step. “By the way I do love you too.”

“What?” You stop, your lips parting as you stare up at him.

“But more importantly you’re my best friend. These past two weeks I’ve felt more lost than I ever have. And that’s because you weren’t by my side making life bearable. I had to sit through Mrs Rosebowl’s math class by myself, it was hell.”

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, the rest of the world moving on around you but for you time stands still. He really wants to kiss you, you really want to kiss him and you can feel yourself losing breath as he slowly leans in.

But the warning bell rings and pulls you from your thoughts making you jump apart. You force yourself to continue walking and he follows a few moments after, soon catching up with you.

“You know you’ve got soooo long to until I forgive you right?” You ask and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Seriously, I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

“I know.” He nods. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good.” You smile. “Look forward to it.”

“Oh I am.”

“Okay.” You shrug.

“Okay.”

“Shut up.” You giggle and nudge him gently.

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

Past-Present-Future Black Dahlia

Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.

Group: ATEEZ Member: Yunho Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy

Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons, some jealousy (but no cheating ofc), implied smut (not sure if there is any but i’m putting it out there nonetheless), mental illness (probably?), gambling and alcohol

Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.

Author’s Note: Again, interesting things happen when you wing it. Look out for a cool fight scene, I think one of the best fight scenes I’ve written if I do say so myself. It was a challenge to write Yunho’s though, spoiler alert. But I hope this chapter brings us closer to a possible conclusion, or at least gives us an idea of how things could end.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Yunho could see the horizon from where he stood, feeling the wind come east, swooping by him. This was where the portal brought him. One moment he was at the grounds of the school, and the next he was in this town that seemed deserted, looking like something out of an old western movie. It reminded him of the place where cowboys were, and for some reason, it reminded him of his time in Morocco.

He needed to look for a way out, or a way back, realizing what he heard. Mirae had refused to join them, out of Ino getting Baekhyun out of the way, out of the fact that they probably wouldn’t keep their promise of getting him and San back to her. He knew what was going on, only he didn’t know how to get out and not even his teleporting might help as he didn’t know where to go.

Yunho closed his eyes, trying to hear Mirae again in the hopes of reaching out to her. He wondered if her refusing Ino meant that she was back, back to being the person he knew her to be, if she was back to being the person who could only grieve without getting people hurt.

As he opened his eyes, Yunho felt a strange pounding in his chest, as if he was nervous. The surroundings had changed, at least how the village he found himself in changed, as he could still see the same dirt road ahead. Everything was a lot more colorful, shades of blue mixed in with the shades of rust. The rest of the colors seemed to be in the fabrics of stalls near buildings that were castle-like.

It was like he was back. Back in the place where his immortality, his mutant gene took effect. The only thing that seemed to be missing were the scorch marks and patches of blood, even his own wounds.

Yunho remembered the days of hiding out, disguising himself countless times to blend in. But he also remembered the times his teleportation would fluctuate whenever he was hiding in dark street corners at night, unintentionally scaring off children. He felt a nervousness that he hadn’t felt in a while, a feeling of dread as he looked around the deserted village.

“This is taking you back, isn’t it?”

Ino suddenly appeared in front of him along with Ten. Yunho stopped in his tracks. “Mirae made the wrong decision in refusing to join us. I have to admit, I feel disappointed,” The elder male said.

“You feel disappointed? What about Mirae? What about Hyuk? What about Chanyeol? What about us? You betrayed us, betrayed our trust!” Yunho’s voice was raised. “You think you have the right to feel betrayed? You?!”

“Hyuk and Chanyeol’s deaths were the price to pay in order to move our agenda forward. It’s time mutants really had some influence in the world. We’ve got powers, everyone else does not. If a few mutants dying is part of the process, then so be it,” Ino insisted.

“So all this time, the Ino that we know, the Ino that Mirae knows, is bent on power after all…” Yunho said quietly. “Then Mirae is right to want to get at you too. As a matter of fact, everyone else that’s in here does.”

“It might be so, but just like Hyuk and Chanyeol, it is also a price to pay to move forward a greater cause, for mutantkind,” Ino said.

“What does that make you? Are you the leader for all of us?” Yunho glared at him.

“Uh, we’ll get around to that,” Ten pointed out. “We’ve yet to elect the leader of this...whatever this is.”

“Well, I am quite powerful, Yunho. I thought you knew that,” Ino said.

“What is this world coming to?” Yunho looked down. He tried to get to Mirae again. “Where is San? Where did you put him?” He asked.

“Tsk tsk tsk, I can’t tell you that,” Ten smirked. “As much as I can’t tell you what you remember from looking at this place. Brings back memories, doesn’t it? That last mission you had, your life since that day. People you’ve met, people you’ve… killed. And as a result of your mutant ability too. Don’t think we don’t know where you’ve been.”

“Old habits die hard,” Yunho replied, but he could feel a little tinge of discomfort at his words.

“That, it does,” Ten was grinning. “I suppose by the way you’re just standing still, you know there is nothing you can do right now.”

“There’s always something. Ino knows it too,” Yunho glanced at the elder male again. “All I know is, at least I’m not the one running away from Mirae.”

Ino’s face remained stoic. “I’m no coward, Yunho.”

“Yes you are. It doesn’t change the fact that you made everyone else do the dirty work, just like you allowed Baekhyun and Jongin to tamper with the Danger Room. You didn’t let them in, they had to figure it out for themselves. Just like how you did nothing when you knew something was wrong,” Yunho pointed out as if to taunt him.

“There is a fine line between strategy and cowardice.”

“And you’ve blurred that line.”

“Are we going to continue this little repartee?” Ten asked, rolling his eyes. “We have to go back. They’ll need you to start operations.”

Yunho smirked. “There is always a way, Ino hyung. I’m not running away from Mirae, you are.”

Ino and Ten returned to the portal, Yunho catching a glimpse of where they were going. An island. “We’ll be back,” Ten said over his shoulder, and the portal disappeared.

Powdery white snow fell on San’s head as he tried to figure out where he was while keeping himself warm. He wasn’t sure what happened. One moment, he was at the grounds of the abandoned school, running towards Mirae who had called out to him, the next moment he was at a forked road of what was a snowy mountainside, without his harpoon on him.

San wasn’t sure where he was either. He didn’t know if this was still part of the place that they were in, or if this was somewhere else entirely. All he knew was that he needed to go back to the grounds of the school or at least to the place where everyone else would be.

He stood in the middle of the forked road. It seemed unlikely that cars or even people would be coming any moment, and it made him think of the possible outcomes if he chose one road. If he chose the one going up, he might have an idea of where to go. If he chose the road going forward, he would see what else he would have to deal with if he decided to go.

San thought of Mirae, what she would do in a situation like this, and without another thought, he ran up the road going upwards, looking up from time to time to see how far he had to go. It wasn’t going to be that far, but he knew he didn’t have much time. San kept running, only to skid to a halt, almost falling over when he realized he dodged a dart. Looking at it closely, the dart looked very familiar, almost too familiar.

“Choi San!”

He felt a chill down his spine at the call of his name. The voice sounded just as familiar and looking at the dart and out from the view where he heard his name, he realized just how familiar the place he was in was. The more his name was called by that same voice, San broke into a run again, taking large strides up the road that would lead to the mountaintop.

“I can’t be back here, I just can’t,” San muttered, unable to shake off the sudden pang of dread that came over him upon seeing the dart and from hearing the voice. His thoughts immediately went back to the road ahead and seeing that there wasn’t much distance left until he reached the top, his eyes and fingertips glowed. San jumped on to the side, his hands immediately boring holes into the rock with a faint crack as he climbed his way up, his feet then making use of the holes he made with his hands.

As soon as he reached the top, he saw a frozen pond, along with visibly empty tents and a broken down car. “Choi San!” He heard the voice call out to him again, and San whipped around, on alert of what may come at him from here. He could only feel the chill from the wind where he stood.

“Gives you goosebumps, doesn’t it, the place where you came from, or, where you first ran away to.”

San turned around. From the rocks appeared Taeyong, smirking. “Where am I?” He asked.

“Ten thought we’d bring you back to a place familiar to you. We know more about you than you think, you know, and I didn’t even need to read your mind to know what’s happened to you before you uh, found your sister.”

“I don’t have anything to prove to you, if you know what I’ve been through then you know what I’ve been through,” San said. “If you’re trying to get into my head right now, you’re not doing a very good job.”

“Oh really?” Taeyong raised a brow.

“Yeah,” San was smirking. “For instance, you probably don’t know the exact details of what happened in this place.”

“You are insulting my intelligence,” His expression stiffened.

“Good, because that means you really don’t know,” San reached into his pocket.

“If you’re thinking of trying to kill me, think again,” Taeyong pointed to his temple. “Then again, it might be fun to see you try.”

“Why don’t we try it then?” San grinned, quickly ducking out of the way when he saw shards of ice go his direction, crashing into the nearby trees. He kept running, skidding against the snow to kick the powdery ice into the psychic’s face, catching him off guard and making him fall over. “What’s the matter? Can’t keep up?” He taunted, picking up the buried chain he remembered close to the car, cracking the string of metal like a whip towards him.

Taeyong kept backing away, sending the car up from its place and towards him. San’s eyes glowed bright as he whipped the vehicle away and making it fall to the ground, the car overheating as it fell back close to the edge of where they stood.

Taeyong dismantled the tent, revealing what else was inside, the poles used to hold it up charging towards him. San whipped the metal poles away, catching one in time. “You’re being quite generous,” San grinned, striking the ground with the pole and sending a wave of energy. Taeyong fell over, turning into his diamond form.

“You’re leaving me with no choice,” He said, getting back up and charging towards San, who quickly moved to wrap the chain around his neck, tugging on it tightly.

“You underestimate me. You forget to realize I am Mirae’s brother. I learned a few things from her,” San kept his hold on the psychic’s neck, squeezing the chains tied around him tightly. “Go ahead and turn back to normal, I dare you.”

Taeyong coughed and sputtered while San kept his hold on the chains, until he burst into laughter. “Go ahead and try and kill me, my brother’s going to come after you.”

“I’ll take that chance,” San’s eyes were still glowing and he pushed Taeyong back, the chains still on his neck as it exploded. He tossed a black disk he found in his pocket towards the explosion quick enough to whistle, the explosion growing bigger until it dissipated, with the psychic’s body on the ground. Or at least, remnants of him in his human form. San figured he tried to change back when he let go of the chain only to be met with the explosive disk he threw.

The ground under his feet began to rumble, and San looked up, sensing the presence of more snow coming from above. The layer of snow from the peak of the mountain where he was broke off and began to slide downhill, towards where he was. San picked up the fabric used for the tent, smirking to himself at the items that he saw came from under it and jumped off the edge, using the fabric to glide down the mountain and onto the forest below.

The rumbling grew louder as he saw the avalanche had settled onto where he was earlier. San landed on the ground, stumbling as he hit the snow, looking back up from where he came from. All he had to figure out was how to get out of the place. He wondered where Yunho was, and where the rest of them were. He needed to run.

From a distance, he heard someone yell, followed by a strong gust of wind coming from the north. The sky had turned cloudy, coupled with thunder and lightning. “Taeyong!” San heard a booming voice from the same place.

“Must be Taeyong’s brother,” San muttered to himself as he kept running, seeing a clearing ahead. The closer he got, the more he saw where it led to. A harbor, only the ocean was an inky black.

Mirae stared at the ruins of the school. Now that Ino had disappeared, she had been staring at the buildings that had disintegrated because of her powers. Destruction was all she seemed to think about now that she knew who to look for. She could hear Yunho’s thoughts, having encountered Ino as he was trapped in a village Ten had created. Ino was a coward no matter how much he’d deny it.

If they wanted a monster, they would get a monster.

“Mirae?” Hongjoong was standing close by.

“My dear?” Yeosang had called as well. He groaned in his place, parts of his dark hair already turning white. “I need to feed, we’re running out of time. Project Apocalypse will be activated.”

“Save it for when we see them again then,” Seonghwa pointed out.

Mirae didn’t speak, and Wooyoung could tell what she was feeling. It made him step forward as well. “Mirae? I know you’re hurting, and I can tell how you’re feeling…” He tried to say it as carefully as possible.

Her eyes were welling with tears. What am I without Hyuk? Without Chanyeol? Without Jihoon? Without Yunho? Without San? She thought, as she observed the cracks in the ground. “Like a monster,” She muttered.

Wooyoung shook his head. “No. I know you feel like you’ve lost everyone you love, but I can tell you. I promise you, Mirae, you didn’t lose everyone-”

“It’s so easy for you to say that, isn’t it?” Mirae glanced at him.

“No, it’s not. Well, in a way, it is, but that’s not the point,” Wooyoung said. “I’ve sensed what is most likely going to happen, and we’ll get them back, Yunho and San.”

Mirae looked down again, her eyes and fingertips glowing. Hongjoong exchanged looks with Wooyoung, and he approached her, the rest of them carefully following behind. “My dear, your shadowy friend is right,” Yeosang spoke. “I know how you feel.”

“No you don’t,” Mirae shook her head, facing them. “You have no fucking idea how I feel right now.”

“That’s fair, maybe we don’t,” Hongjoong said. “But Wooyoung’s point still stands. You didn’t lose everyone as much as they’re trying to make you think. You still have Yunho, you still have San, you still have executive Kang, whatever he is to you,” He turned to the vampiric-looking mutant, frowning slightly at the changes in his appearance. “You still have us too.”

“We followed you here. Teamwork like ours, it’s not something that can just go away, we’ve all been through the same thing in that sanitarium, remember?” Seonghwa said. “Junhong is still here too. He’s waiting for us in the van right now. Mirae, you’re not as alone as you think you are, as they think you are. You still have us.”

“Mirae, please,” Mingi’s expression fell.

“We, all of us, haven’t been together again for a while,” It was Jongho’s turn to speak. “We’d honestly still be lost if it weren’t for the three of you finding us again.”

Yeosang put his hand on her shoulder, Mirae sensing the coldness of his touch even through her clothes. “For so long, I have pushed away so many people, thinking that this was the only way to survive. That was until I met you. All of us here are with you, my dear. Even your technology-affiliated friend who is waiting for us outside. We will get Yunho and San back, I promise you. I only ask that you not make the same mistake towards everyone else who has grown to care for you.”

“Come with us. Please,” Hongjoong said quietly. “...We need our leader back. Just like old times.”

“I wish it was that simple,” Mirae said.

“And it is. It can be simple, my dear,” Yeosang said. “Come with us, my dear Mirae. I promise you, you have not lost everyone you love as much as they’re trying to make you think you have.”

Mirae glanced at all of them, seeing how their expressions were all hopeful that maybe, just maybe, their words had gotten through to her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wasn’t feeling that bubbling anger inside her, as if it was slowly getting replaced by a feeling of calm that she couldn’t quite comprehend. The feeling of calm was similar to what she felt after that time Jihoon died, along with her adoptive parents.

It made her think of them. It made her think of what Chanyeol and Hyuk would’ve done. A part of her wanted to stay angry, but another part of her, a bigger part of her, knew that Chanyeol and Hyuk would never want her to turn out the way she was acting right now. She knew not even Jihoon would be cheering for her with all the damage she had caused so far. It seemed to be a relief that not even her home, back in the city, was damaged yet at this point.

“One of these days, we’ll do a mission again, just the three of us.”

“Yeah, someone needs to watch your back this time. You nearly got your powers taken away.”

“Lee Mirae, you’re getting sappy.”

“Even with the way things ended back then. I’m glad the three of us found each other.”

Mirae closed her eyes, remembering the last conversations she had with them. Hot tears trickled down her face. “I really wish it was that simple,” She whispered. “I want them back.”

Yeosang could only keep his hand on her shoulder, unsure of whether to go nearer but sensing that Hongjoong was already doing the same. “I know you do. Hyuk hyung, Chanyeol hyung, I know you want them back, but they're in a much better place now, don’t you think?”

“Just as much as I want them back too,” Mirae said, making the rest of them stare at her, realizing what she meant.

Yunho stopped in his tracks as he stepped out of one dark place to another in the village he was in. He heard her thoughts, heard what was going on with her. A small smile played across his lips, realizing what she said, why she was reaching out to him at this time. She was back, at least it seemed like it.

Yunho ran towards another shadowy alley, trying to teleport, picturing the abandoned school, only to end up in another alley just by seeing the colored kaftans hanging from the two-floored houses he was surrounded by.

Before he could teleport again, Mark appeared and kicked him out of the alley. “Jeong Yunho is it?” He said, seeing Yunho slide down the road, a scratch evident in his face only for it to heal completely. “A fellow external, this is excellent.”

“Yeah, what about it?” Yunho got back up on his feet. “You do know we can actually kill each other, right?”

“I am very well aware. Yeosang’s already weakening, it’s your turn,” Mark kicked him again and disappeared, reappearing behind the taller and punching him. Yunho stumbled to the side but quickly got back up, figuring out where Mark would reappear next.

Yunho smirked. “Two can play this game,” He closed his eyes, letting his instincts guide him on where the other male would reappear. Before he knew it, he reappeared in another alley, and in another, and another, realizing that the sky was getting dark. “Let’s play hide and seek then! You hide and I’ll seek!” He called out, teleporting from one spot to another, stopping at the empty fountain.

“With pleasure,” Mark reappeared, only for the taller to grab him by the collar, both of them teleporting from one spot to another in the midst of their scuffle. Yunho kept his grip on Mark, punching him several times until kicking him, the two of them reappearing and landing on opposite directions. “We have all night, Yunho, give up already?”

“I’m just getting started,” Yunho charged towards Mark, only to vanish halfway through the run, reappearing in a puff of black smoke behind the shorter, tackling him into a headlock. “Losing your touch already, old man?” He taunted, the shorter coughing and sputtering. “Try and teleport, I’m going with you all the way.”

Mark groaned and sucker punched him, but Yunho kept his hold on him as they teleported from one place to another. “You realize while I’m here, the rest of my friends are already trying to activate Project Apocalypse as we speak,” He coughed, trying to break free but his strength was waning.

“Trying, they’re only trying,” Yunho kept his hold. “You tell me where the hell am I and where San is and I might just let you live,” He threatened. “You should be familiar with what happened here, since all of you know things about me.”

“That I am,” Mark sucker punched him again before trying to poke his eyes. Yunho ducked in time to throw him off, running into another shadowy part of the place and disappearing. “This is testing my patience,” He cracked his knuckles and reappeared inside what looked like the inside of a blockhouse that he knew was still within the village.

Mark looked around, trying to sense a presence within the confined walls of the fortified space. “You really think Mirae’s going to go back to you?” He called out. “She’s far down the rabbit hole of her rage. But I am amazed that Yeosang got through to her more than her own boyfriend,” He said, removing the blankets and the sheets from the nearby beds. “Based from your thoughts and memories, she thought you were looking the other way. I can’t blame either of you, though. Both of you seem to be much better apart than you are together-”

Yunho had reappeared behind him, kicking him before he could teleport and knocking him down, the taller quickly kicking his leg to keep him down. “You were saying?” He asked. “Get us out of here, why don’t you?”

Mark smirked. “Bold of you to assume I will easily give in to that.”

“Want to bet?” Yunho kicked his other leg down, hearing the bones crack. “You teleport, I teleport with you.”

“Alright, alright,” Mark groaned, the pain in his legs still present as he faced the taller male. “It’s clear that we are evenly matched at the moment,” He crawled to his feet, only for Yunho to pull him back down by the ankle.

“I don’t think it’s even at the moment,” Yunho kicked his leg down again, making him yelp in pain. “You’re going to take me to Mirae, and you’re going to bring San back, do you understand? But first, I need information.”

“Do you really think torturing me is going to get me to tell you where Project Apocalypse is located?” Mark gave him a look.

“We’re both immortals, we’ve got the rest of our never-ending lives, and we’ve got the time, you might as well tell me,” Yunho drove his foot further into Mark’s leg. “I’ve certainly got the time to break these bones over and over again.”

“Alright! I will have to concede in this battle,” Mark spat. “If you had any knowledge in how plans like these work, you would’ve already figured out by now that the rest of the country will be seeing our entrance soon.”

“Mhmm,” Yunho got the idea, but he still drove his foot down on Mark’s broken leg. “Where there?”

“The city, where else? Seoul itself is about to see once more what happens when powerful mutants like ourselves can take power.”

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deerixiie · 4 years

Text

u n e x p e c t e d g u e s t

ep 06: hoodies

previous / next (ep 07) / series masterlist

a/n: as you can see by the title, there are some implications that you fit into kenma’s (slightly oversized) hoodie in this chapter. it’s not really a warning, i just felt like i should add it :P

you frowned at the tweet on your phone screen.

kenma canceled his stream. because of the storm, or because of you?

you looked up, already forming some sort of inconspicuous way to ask him, when you realize no one was there. the place the streamer had been sitting mere seconds ago was empty.

you didn't even hear him leave.

you cautiously brought yourself up to your feet. "kenma?" vivid white lightning illuminated the room for a split second, an ominous boom of window-rattling thunder following seconds after. an unsettling feeling washed over you. "kenma..." you said again, more cautiously.

"y/n?"

a sigh escaped your lips as kenma poked his head back into the room. "i didn't even notice you left," you said sheepishly.

kenma's lips curved into a light smile. quickly, his gaze dropped to a bundle in his hands. you followed his gaze, frowning. clothes? when you made eye contact with him again, there was the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. "i brought you a hoodie," kenma mumbled. "'cause it gets cold."

your heart skipped. a hoodie? "oh. um, thanks."

he entered the room and awkwardly handed you a dark grey hoodie with a small logo on it. "Bouncing Ball," you murmured. "you have your own merch?"

"huh? oh, yeah." kenma's voice sounded meek (though, it always did). "is that weird or something?"

"no, not at all!" you smiled down at the grey hoodie, running your thumbs over the downy fabric. "it's soft."

you looked up and met kenma's gaze. he gave you a small smile, a little wider this time, sending the subtlest of flutters through your heart. "thanks," kenma said.

"but he does have a crush on you. the question is, do you?" you furrowed your eyebrows as kuroo’s text came to mind.

do you?

when someone's laugh makes your heart soar, or when someone's smile makes you want to cover the flustered smile on your own face, that means you like them, right?

so what if you did like him? what happens after that?

the blinding flicker of lightning and another deafening boom of thunder startled you out of your thoughts. "do you want to continue playing?" kenma asked, holding his switch.

the canceled stream. you nodded and reached for the switch sitting a little ways away from you, your mind churning. do you ask him outright? lead up to it?

"uhm, y/n?"

you blinked and turned your sheepish gaze on kenma. "sorry, i was just thinking."

"oh." a slightly uncomfortable veil of silence hung between the two of you. you mustered the last of your courage and decided to spit the question outright.

unfortunately, kenma also chose that second to speak.

"why'd you cancel the stream?" you asked as kenma said "i'm sorry that this turned out so bad" at the same time.

kenma's eyes widened and he immediately looked down at his switch. "i'm sorry," he mumbled. "go fir-"

"what do you mean, this turned out bad?" you asked, your voice incredulous. "this has been amazing!"

the sky, ironically, seems to agree, a bolt of lightning and the boom of thunder following seconds after the words left your mouth.

"but the rain," kenma mumbled. he glanced over to where punchy and ankha huddled under the couch, hiding from the storm, "and punchy escaped and we wasted a lot of time trying to find him."

"that's fine," you laughed. "that was fun!"

"still..." kenma sighed. he fiddled with the buttons on his switch for a second before looking up at you. "now what were you going to say?"

"oh." you laughed nervously. "i was just curious, you know, but i saw you canceled your stream."

kenma shrugged. "i don't want to stream with you still here, isn't that rude? plus, the storm could mess with the... y'know, connection and... stuff."

"oh." your gaze flickered from the hoodie to him. "i guess i just feel guilty that i took time away from the stream."

kenma gave you the faintest of smiles. "it's no big deal." your vision is interrupted by another flash of lightning and crash of thunder, causing ankha to meowl in fear. "we should bring them to the studio," kenma mused. "there's no windows and it's pretty cut off from outside noise as well."

you tried your best to give him what you could call an indifferent shrug, but the thought of seeing his studio was sending your heart into hysterics.

it didn't take long to get settled in the surprisingly spacious room. punchy and ankha were considerably more relaxed, even brushing your leg from time to time as they prowled around the room. you and kenma were collapsed in beanbag chairs (kenma didn't seem like he was open to conversation about why he had them) leaning over to check the other's screen as you played. you felt your breath catch every time kenma's head came inches away from yours as he bent over to observe your screen, and kuroo's daunting question would creep back into your mind, bringing a wave of anxiety that you somehow managed to quell. "worry about that later," you told yourself. "focus on this moment."

the lack of windows—or maybe the sheer fact that you were enjoying yourself—must have made it easy to lose track of time because it only seemed like minutes had passed when you saw the "2:16 AM" plastered on your phone screen.

"i'm sorry for keeping you up for so long," kenma apologized meekly as he led you to one of the guest bedrooms. "i'm a bad host."

"you shouldn’t be so quick to bring yourself down" you comment as you walk into the open bedroom. "this was great. you're really fun to hang out with, kenma."

it wasn't a lie. in fact, it was extremely far from one. you told yourself it was the lack of windows that caused you to lose track of time, but maybe it was because of how comfortable you felt with him. no matter how much your blood roared in your ears whenever he leaned in closer, no matter how much your heart would burst when you'd see a rare smile or a small chuckle. you felt content with him. you might even go as far as to say that you felt at home with him. everything he did just flooded your veins with a feeling of calm.

you wrinkled your nose. oikawa would get a kick out of that.

the light smile that rarely showed up on kenma's face made its appearance. "i’m glad to hear that. well, uh, good night. there should be blankets there and stuff but if you need anything my room is at the end of the hallway."

you nodded. "good night!"

kenma gave you a small wave before heading down the hallway. you slowly clicked the door shut and headed over to the bed, your eyes floating to the window. faint moonlight filtered in through the half-shuttered blinds, faintly distorted by the raindrops that still lingered on the window after the storm.

you smiled. you didn't even realize the storm stopped.

because of that storm, you spent almost an entire day playing animal crossing and talking with kenma, the streamer you weren't exactly sure if you had a crush on. because of that storm, you were able to meet his cats, see his gaming setup, get one of his hoodies, and play on his switch. because of that storm, you were able to see the real kenma, instead of the one you saw behind a computer screen.

the urge to check your phone suddenly overtook your mind. your hands floated to your back pocket, freezing when you felt soft fabric instead of denim.

that's right, you had put the hood of kenma's hoodie over your head while you were gaming together. you removed the sweatshirt, your fingers tracing over the white imprinted logo on the front. slowly you hugged it to your chest, breathing in the faint smell of cat fur and laundry detergent, bleach powder and newly bought electronics. you give in to the urge and take off the blouse you'd been wearing, replacing it with the slightly oversized hoodie. the sleeves flowed a bit past your wrists and the hem of the sweatshirt hung below your waist, but it was comfortable.

you took off your stiff jeans and climbed into the bed, falling asleep with kenma's scent filling your nose and his small smile engraved in your memory.

previous / next (ep 07) / series masterlist

notes:

❍ fave chapter so far :)

fun facts:

❍ kenma went to sleep before 3 AM for the first time in weeks

taglist (open, send an ask!):

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@rhaynedaze @1tsnoya @hnpriscilla @chaelysian @deimmortales99 @pantasticalcat @goosyy @loxbbg @officiallykuute @handsoffmyfriends @flrtykawas @kenmashoe @kingkagss @sempiternal-amour @sol-demure @bbecc-a @ggukiefrappe @ashleydaowo @space-flamingo @finnydraws @bakibakini @dearkags @erininium @creativedogs @johnnysactualgf @bethbat @prcttylittlcthing @rachelexe @vanilla-beanzz @saccharine-sunflower-seeds @icaruskenma @aikochan4859 @knmsapplepi @h0ngh0ngh0ng @shhhspect @vicassa @crykv

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