#woke up this morning with a weird rash and went to get it checked out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 9

First

It was kind of weird how quickly they got acclimated to civilian life.

Sure, Marinette often came out of the day with way too much energy, but they could burn off most of it by sparring. A ten to twenty minute session a day (excluding warm ups and cool downs, which added another thirty minutes or so) was enough to maintain their physiques and get rid of the uncomfortable energy that came with the sudden loss of constant danger in their lives.

(Not that this Gotham wasn’t dangerous, but it was… markedly less so. The Rogues Gallery didn’t exist in this world, what with Batman not existing, so the only thing that they really had to fear was mob activities and the occasional mugging. As long as they kept their noses clean and never stopped to tell a person the time, there was no reason for them to be scared.)

Other than that… it was almost too easy to get used to the new life that they lived.

Marinette woke up first in the mornings for work and would take care of Damian while she got ready. Tim had baby duty for the nine hours a day she was at work and commuting, so it was the least she could do.

And, really, he wasn’t all that difficult now that she was starting to get the hang of the whole baby thing.

Damian was trying to mimic her -- anticipatory socialization, she was pretty sure it was called (Or was it imprinting? Observational learning? Damn it, her psych major was not coming through for her right then). She found it cute and it was completely normal so she was perfectly fine encouraging it: she had gotten him mini versions of all of her makeup brushes.

One time, though, this backfired on her: he had dipped one of the cheap makeup brushes she’d gotten him into her makeup when she wasn’t looking and applied it to his face.

Marinette glanced down -- he had been quiet for too long, never a good thing -- and gasped. “Dami, you can’t whitewash yourself!”

Damian looked up at her, eyes wide with confusion.

She tried not to pout because he might take it wrong. Why must her best jokes always come to her when no one was around to hear?

“Don’t touch the powder stuff, please. It's not for babies, it's for grown ups.”

Damian frowned and looked down at his brush. She gently took it from him and worked at getting the makeup out.

When she gave it back to him he still seemed a little sad.

She sighed and gave him a short hug. “I’m not mad. I promise. It’s just… not your color!”

(The real reason was that makeup is very expensive, but kids don’t really understand money so she needed an excuse.)

Damian was still a little pouty. She didn’t know what to do. Damn. She supposed that served her right. She shouldn't have dared to think that she was getting the hang of having the whole ‘having a baby’ thing.

She sighed and looked down at him for a few moments, thinking. He was sitting in the high chair they kept him in when both of them were too busy to hold him. Usually he would be swinging his legs back and forth like a toddler -- probably because he was a toddler -- but now he was remarkably still, green eyes wide as he looked up at her.

She glanced at the time. Damian had woken her up early that morning, so she had extra time to get ready…

Marinette pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the internet.

… hm. Makeup could be toxic to babies. Good to know.

She grabbed one of her makeup wipes and scrubbed it from his face. She’d make sure to tell Tim so he could look out for any rashes the kid might get.

Then, she pulled out a comb and started brushing the tiny curls on Damian’s head. There wasn’t much, so it was mostly just dragging against his scalp, but the kid seemed pleased so she kept doing that for a few minutes.

At one point, he tried to take the comb from her. She allowed it, figuring he wanted to try and brush his own hair, but then he reached for her.

She leaned down to take him out of the chair, she was mostly done getting ready anyways, but instead he started trying to brush her hair.

… oh.

She felt, strangely, like crying. Her kid -- sorry, this kid -- was just so cute.

… but she didn’t want to mess up her hair...

He made a vague whining sound and she was weak.

She could always fix her hair on the train or something, she supposed.

She hesitantly leaned down so he could brush her hair. “Fuck it? I guess?”

“Fuck it,” Damian said, giving a short nod.

She groaned internally. “I’m actually going to have to stop swearing, aren’t I?”

“Fuck it!” Damian said again, louder this time.

Her lips twitched. “You’re so right, Dami. Who cares about a few little swears?”

“I do,” said Tim, who was apparently standing in the doorway.

She yelped. She probably would have flinched away if Damian hadn’t managed to make a giant knot in her hair in the few seconds that she had let him touch it.

She turned and sent Tim a weak smile. “You’re up early.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please stop teaching him swears.”

“I mean… it’s kind of funny, though.”

“It’s not.”

Marinette groaned overdramatically and turned to look at Damian. “He’s such a stick in the mud, amiright?”

“Sti-in-mu,” Damian said, nodding.

Tim huffed. “I’m starting to think he likes you better.”

“As he should,” Marinette said. She picked up the baby and nuzzled her nose against his. “Who’s a smart baby? You are!”

Damian giggled and tried to nuzzle her back.

Tim hummed as he went around the apartment, sweeping the floors. He and Marinette had come to a kind of unspoken agreement: he would do the cleaning, and she would do the cooking. It was only fair, since Tim’s standards for cleanliness were higher than hers and she was the only one out of the three people there that was physically capable of cooking an edible meal.

(Yes, he was aware that he was comparing his cooking skills to that of a baby. It was accurate, okay?)

Damian crawled along after him. He was trying to help, Tim was pretty sure, swatting the floor behind where Tim was cleaning...

Tim smiled. Maybe he should get the kid some fake cleaning supplies like Marinette had done with all of her makeup brushes. Would he like that? Only one way to find out, he supposed. He found the grocery list and wrote it down.

When he turned back to where he had left Damian -- which, he reminded himself, he shouldn’t be doing, because the kid was surprisingly fast when it came to trying to get himself killed -- and found the kid…

Holy shit.

He was walking.

Tim watched with a bright smile as Damian struggled to his feet and took a few steps towards him.

It didn’t last long. Damian had only really managed about three steps before he fell back to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. But…

Tim made a slightly embarrassing squealing noise in the back of his throat and leaned down, scooping the baby up in his arms and hugging him close. He couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of his face.

“Look at you! Walking! Oh my god! Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”

Damian was blinked up at him in wide-eyed confusion.

Tim leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of the kid’s head and refused to pull back until he had calmed down a little.

He smiled down at his younger brother, who looked delighted at the attention but also very confused as to what was going on.

He looked around until he found Kaalki, who had been on his phone doing… horse things? God things? Who cares?

“Please tell me you took a video of that.”

“Nope. I did get a picture of you kissing his forehead, though.”

Tim huffed a little. “Delete that.”

“Too late. Already sent it to Marinette.”

Even this wasn’t enough to dampen his mood.

And Tim knew that the fact that Damian was walking had almost nothing to do with him, but he was proud, damn it. Or maybe the better way of saying it was that he was happy for the kid? He didn’t know, he had always been terrible with emotions. It was a good emotion, though, that much he was sure of.

He kissed Damian’s forehead again and smiled when the baby giggled at him and reached out, smushing his cheeks in his hands.

“Hello,” Tim struggled to say with the baby hands pressing in on his face.

“Nano,” Damian said.

“Close enough,” he said. “Want to watch some TV to celebrate?”

Damian nodded vigorously. Tim wondered, vaguely, if the kid understood what he was saying or if he just kind of gave answers when he knew that Marinette and Tim were asking him things.

Didn't matter. Tim would put on that one weird show with the talking cat that Damian liked and they could watch that until Marinette got home.

And, when she did, she practically ran over. She didn’t even take off her shoes, a sure sign that she was excited.

Damian looked away from the TV and smiled. “Mar-ree.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open for a second… and then curled into a bright smile.

“You’re so… cute!” She cooed. “Yes! Hi! Good to see you, Dami!”

Tim pouted, slightly jealous.

She seemed to notice because she stuck her tongue out at him. “You got to see his first steps and I didn’t. I deserve this.”

He disagreed. The pout on his face remained until Damian saw and twisted around in his lap, leaning up and wrapping his arms around his neck in a kind of hug. Because it was kind of hard to stay sad when he was doing that.

He hugged the kid back for a few moments and then drew back, planting a kiss on his nose.

Marinette hesitated.

“Can I… have him for a few minutes? I want to see him walk.”

Tim considered this.

Then he smiled. “Only if I can take a video.”

“I would have made you do it, anyways,” she said.

Tim chuckled softly and handed the baby over so they could take the video.

She slipped into the apartment after a long day of work.

Tim was fluffing the pillows, apparently out of apartment to clean.

Damian looked up from the pillow he was hitting at the sound of the door clicking closed, and he seemed to light up. He grabbed Tim’s hand with one hand for his attention and pointed at her excitedly with the other.

“Nano! Yanzur! Mar-ree!”

“Yeah, that’s Mari,” Tim agreed.

Marinette flexed her feet now that they were out of the god-forsaken heels that she had been wearing.

“Hi, Dami. How was your day?” She asked.

Damian didn’t understand the question and certainly didn’t know enough words to respond, but he seemed sated by the acknowledgement of his existence. He slowly slid off of the couch and started his way over to her.

Marinette smiled faintly, amused. She looked over at Tim while she waited for him to get to her.

“So… he told you to look at me, that I get… but what is a ‘Nano’?”

“That’s what he’s calling me now, I think,” Tim said, slightly flushed.

She blinked. “That… isn’t even close to your name.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging helplessly.

Her lips twitched. “Maybe he’s calling you short.”

Tim threw the pillow he had been fluffing at her.

She let it hit her -- it was a pillow, it wasn’t like it would hurt -- and then stuck her tongue out at him. “Don’t blame me! I’m but an innocent bystander in this! He’s the one that did it!”

Damian tugged on the fabric of her shirt. She looked down, a grin still on her face. He made grabby hands and she obliged with ease, picking him up and nuzzling her nose against his.

Then, her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Tell me, Dami, is Tim short?”

Damian looked between the two of them. Marinette was nodding and Tim was shaking his head vigorously.

“... shor!”

Marinette burst into a fit of giggles while Tim groaned.

“I hate you.”

Her amusement didn’t die down in the slightest. “Oh, if you hate me, then I guess I’m only making food for Dami and I. Hope you didn’t eat all the leftovers for lunch today...”

“Wait, Mari, let’s talk about this --.”

~~~~~

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#the nano thing is an actual thing that happened to me #i still dont know how my sibling came up with that #my real name is even further away from nano than olivia is #into the unknown #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin

92 notes · View notes

joheunsaram · 3 years

Text

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

previous | masterlist | next

171 notes · View notes

worldwidesonyeondan · 4 years

Text

Canvas// Jeon Jungkook (m)

(Part of the “Dream Career” Series)

In which Jeon Jungkook is a soft tattoo artist, and you are a very clumsy girl.

⤿ Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Jungkook x Reader

⤿ Word Count: 5,086

⤿ Genre: Fluff, Smut

⤿ Warnings: Oral (F Receiving), Fingering, Unprotected Sex

⤿ A/N: Aaahh! Finally the first part of this series! I hope you guys enjoy this ^.^

You stood at the door of the tattoo parlor, its presence was so familiar to you, yet so curious all at once. It looked the same as it always had since you were young. The windows were adorned with what you could only presume to be tattoo designs done by various artists in the shop, and the building itself was illuminated by the soft glow of the LED sign atop its roof. However, it certainly put off the unmistakable threatening aura and stench of regret that you always got from tattoo shops.

Walking through these doors and getting a tattoo was a decision you couldn’t reverse, and you knew this very well. Nights of staying up late with your friends in your younger years and laughing at the “top ten biggest tattoo mistakes” were enough to teach you this. However, you also knew you weren’t the type to back down from a dare, and a dare this was, so you couldn’t go back on it.

With a heavy heart and shaking hands, you pushed open the door of the shop. You had half a mind enough to tell you to turn around and get out of there, dare is damned, but you knew you were too late when you heard the ting of the bell that would signify to the workers a customer had walked in.

Your brain barely had time to process before it felt like you had walked into a different world; you could’ve sworn you were having a sensory overload. The shop itself was relatively clean, and they had their licenses on display above the check-in desk, validating that you would, in fact, not go home with any weird skin rashes. It had the nauseating smell of disinfectant, which in this case you presumed to be a good thing. Several books were open for looking at on top of the desk, labeled by older works to newer ones.

You knew that this shop had quite the reputation in your little old town, knew that ever since Woo-Jin passed away it had been struggling with business. Woo-Jin was the heart and soul of this whole business, the sweetest old man with a love for his job. Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago due to a fishing boat accident. His death left not only a hole in the heart of the community, but a lingering feeling of something missing in the shop. Spread of word in the town told you that his grandson had taken over the shop, and spread of rumor told you that he was struggling. A lot of Woo-Jin’s loyal customers stopped coming in, saying that the boy was sweet but it just wasn’t the same.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you realized you had no clue what you wanted to get. You simply came in here for a dare. You took tentative steps closer to the check-in desk and reached out for the binders scattered on top, hoping to see some design of interest or just anything to give you an idea really. However, it seemed that luck was not on your side as you didn’t even get a chance to look at the designs before you knocked over the stack of binders that had previously been by your elbow. Heads turned your way as you bend down shakily to clean up your mess.

It seemed you had scattered some papers everywhere, with no clue of the order that they belonged in. The longer you took the more your embarrassment grew. You couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching. You were in such a panicked state, you barely noticed the hands that had come beside you in assistance to pick up the papers. As the last paper was taken from beneath you and put in its rightful place on the desk, you lifted your head with a beating heart and a cherry red face.

“Hey now,” the person’s voice chuckled, “No need to be embarrassed.” The voice belonged to a man. It was soft and warm, the type of voice that could make you feel peaceful and calm, make everything seem like it’s okay. Slowly, you tilted your head up to meet eyes with quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. His appearance was very soft, innocence is a prominent feature, but he also had an edge to him that you couldn't quite describe. He was almost god-like. Some sort of mythical being that you would learn about from Greek mythology.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wondering if he had frightened you, a safe assumption based on your speechless nature.

You suddenly remembered what was happening and felt even more embarrassed. “Yes, I’m sorry. I was going to clean it up, I just didn’t know where anything went.” You bowed in apology. “I’m sorry to burden you.”

The man smiled at you and you could’ve sworn you physically felt your breath leave your lungs. “It really is okay. It’s not the first time this has happened. I do it myself more than you would think.”

When your breathing had calmed down a bit, you looked up to meet the man in the eyes properly, ditching the red face and sweaty palms. This didn’t make him any less ethereal. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Before you could thank him or even get his name, there was a yell from behind the curtain where tattoos are done. He groaned and rolled his eyes before setting the binders down and taking off to go deal with the situation.

You stood at the desk for a few moments longer, before the lingering anxiety finally got to you. You would not be getting a tattoo today. Making your way back to your home, you couldn’t help but think maybe you had made a mistake. Your friends would never let you live this one down, and besides, if you had gotten the tattoo maybe you could’ve had the chance to have an actual conversation with the cute worker.

Once you entered your home, you threw off your shoes and flung them up against the entrance that connected the living room to the dining room. You went to your bedroom and changed into more comfortable clothes and flung yourself down on the bed. Soon, you slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing on your mind for the night is the sweet voice of the young man you met today.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining through your windows in contrast to the somewhat cloudy weather of yesterday. It seemed what was supposed to be a short nap had turned into your night’s sleep. You didn’t even get to eat dinner. You sat up and stretched, giving your eyes time to adjust to the light. Slipping out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen. You weren’t in the mood to cook, so you settled for a banana laying out on the counter.

As you sat on your couch eating your breakfast, you couldn’t help but think about the events of yesterday. You wondered if the man had noticed you left, or if he cared. As you ate, your mind drifted off somewhere else when you noticed something missing. On your finger was always a golden ring with a little heart, just a plastic one, nothing of real value but rich in sentimental value as it was a gift from your father from before he went off to the military. Today it was missing. You began to rack your brain about what could have happened with it before going off to your bedroom to see if you had taken it off last night.

Your eyes scanned the tops of your dresser and your floor, hoping to find a trace of your ring. You knew it was highly probable that you dropped it outside, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind and kept looking. As you searched your carpet on your hands and knees, you remembered a crucial detail from yesterday. This is exactly what you were doing when you dropped all the papers. The ring must have slipped off of your finger in your haste.

Cursing under your breath you got up and checked your phone, seeing that the time was only nine in the morning. You hoped the little shop was open this early. You made your way back to the very place you had been yesterday, only to find the doors locked. Getting frustrated at yourself for losing the ring in the first place, you turned around to walk away, before being stopped by a familiar voice. The voice was smoky and silvery, and as soon as you heard the honey-laced tone, you knew it was the man from yesterday. As you turned back around to face him, his gaze met yours and your breath hitched in your throat. You thought yesterday’s anxiety was because of your embarrassment, turns out he just took your breath away at any given time. He was just as pretty as when you first saw him.

“You know we are closed right?” He asked with a small chuckle. He must have noticed your attempt at opening the door and you must have not noticed the LED “closed” sign flashing bright on the door.

You flushed red with embarrassment. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t see the sign…” You professed sheepishly.

He shook his head with a small smile. “You’re okay. I’m assuming you’re here for your ring.”

“Ah, yes, actually.” You breathed out a sigh of relief. So you did drop it here. He smiled and pulled it out of his pocket.

“You know, you’re really lucky I’m the one that found this. There can be some not-so-nice people that walk through those doors.”

“Thank you, again...where did you find this anyways?”

His gaze never seemed to leave yours as he spoke. He nodded his head at the shop’s door. “On the floor by the front desk. You must have dropped it when you knocked all of the papers over.” You lifted up your head to quickly apologize again, but a glance of the smirk on his face let you know he was joking. Your body relaxed.

“I’m uh...sorry about that...again.” You twisted your lips in a train of thought. “Why did you keep my ring? You said to yourself that most people would have taken it home and pawned it for some cash. But you didn’t.”

“I guess I’m just not that kind of guy. Besides, Pops would’ve killed me if he found out I was doing something like that.” A little chuckle escaped him. You figured by Pops he was referring to Woo-Jin, the previous owner of the establishment and his grandfather. You figured it would be a sore spot to bring up, and as you looked at his face you could see that even if he didn’t show it, his joke had hurt him a little.

“Would you like to go get a cup of coffee with me? If not for anything to at least let me thank you.” The offer flew out of your mouth before you could even think about it. Maybe it was the hurt expression on his face you knew all too well, or maybe it really was just you wanting to thank him for finding your ring, but you wanted to spend more time with him. Though he was surrounded by people everyday in his line of work, something about him seemed so… lonely.

His gaze met yours and his eyes lit up. He gave you a nod and the slightest smile. You let him follow you to the coffee shop; he seemed to stay close but not too close, as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

When you arrived at the shop, you grabbed the door and held it open for him. “After you.” You smiled brightly, gesturing with your hand for him to go inside. He stepped in with a grumble, something about how it was his job to open the door for you, being a man and all. You giggled at his little comment. “It’s the twenty-first century, women can hold the door for men too. It’s called being nice.” He blushed a bit, not realizing you had heard his comment. “Now. What would you like to drink?”

After ordering your drinks, you two went to find a table while they were being prepared. You made small talk for a while, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring at your ring, which had taken back its rightful place on your finger the instant he had given it back.

“My grandmother gave it to me.” You commented, scaring him a bit since he didn’t seem to know you realized his staring.

He nodded in understanding. “Were you close to her?”

“I think we were pretty close. She was like my mother in a way.” You smiled softly. Most people would be hurt from talking about a loved one that had passed, but talking about your grandmother just made you happy, sort of a sense of comfort.

“I’m sure she was a lovely woman...to raise someone like you.”

“What do you mean?”

A light shade of red dusted across his cheeks. “Oh… well, I just mean that you have a very kind soul… I guess.” He gave you a sheepish smile and looked away, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.

Before long, the coffee had arrived, and you both continued to make small talk over your cups. About mid-way through, something you hadn’t noticed before caught your attention. His coffee. It was black. Bitter, tasteless, black coffee. You scrunched up your nose in disgust. Who willingly drinks coffee like that?

“You like your coffee black?” you asked, a sort of bewildered tone to your voice.

He nodded shyly. “I’ve never been into sweeter drinks. It seems like every time I try to order one with something in it, it’s just overbearing, and it gives me a headache.”

You clicked your tongue. “Then you, my friend, have been drinking the wrong coffee.” You picked up your own cup, tilting it towards him. “Try this. It’s cappuccino. There isn’t much sugar in it and the way this place makes it is,” You stopped and brought your fingers to your mouth, making a kissing sound, “chef’s kiss.”

He just chuckled, taking your cup and taking a small sip from it. A delighted noise conjured up in his throat and you giggled. He looked up at you after hearing your giggle, a soft smile appearing on his face. “You weren’t wrong. This is pretty good. Has nothing on black coffee though.”

You just shook your head and made a disgusted sound. “You don’t deserve my coffee dates if that’s your opinion.” You stared at him for a moment, before realizing you two had not yet exchanged some very important details. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“I’m Jungkook.” He offered with a smile.

“Jungkook…” You said softly, trying to engrain the name into your memory. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” You grinned at him and he gave you a grin back.

“You too, Y/N.,” he said softly as if the name coming off of his lips was pure joy to him, and you couldn’t deny that your name sounded a lot nicer coming from him. It was strange how you felt a connection to him, only having known him for maybe an hour at most.

You ended up spending the rest of your day talking to Jungkook about pretty much everything that comes to your mind. The coffee had been finished long ago, but the conversation never ended. Before you knew it, Jungkook was looking out the window at a setting sun. You looked out the window yourself with a sigh. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”

The sound of your voice caught his attention, and he nodded somewhat sadly at you, having had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You both stood up, making your way to the door. He halted his movements for a moment, as if deciding whether or not he should say what he was thinking. Ultimately, he decided on speaking. “Thank you for this Y/N. You’re welcome back at the shop anytime.”

You shook your head and waved him off. “Nonsense. You’re the one that held my ring for me. I should be thanking you.” You smiled warmly at him. “But...I’ll be sure to stop by sometime.” He looked up at you, seemingly taken aback by your answer. He bowed his head and opened the door for both of you.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He said, giving you one last shy smile before you two went your separate ways.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days seemed to turn into weeks with your budding new friendship, and before long you and Jungkook had been attached at the hip for a number of weeks.

He had come over to your house once or twice. You two would have dinner together and he would help you clean up afterwards, which sometimes resulted in a sleepover as you would both be too tired to even think about him driving home. If you weren’t sharing a nice meal together, you were deep into a game of Mario Kart or watching some crazy nature documentary, which would soon both be abandoned by your long conversations that lasted well into the night.

Slowly but surely, he had become a part of your daily routine, like you could no longer imagine a day without seeing him. He fit right in. You also took up his offer of coming into the shop every once in a while, where he showed you that the idea of a tattoo wasn’t so bad after all. You still remembered a conversation you two had after a particularly busy day at the shop. He was stressing over something or the other and you asked him why he kept the job if it did nothing but stress him. He told you he loves to listen.

At the time, you didn’t understand it, so you just left it at that, but after coming around for a while, you began to take notice of things. The shop was filled with a variety of stories and people from all walks of life, wanting to tell their stories through the ink on their skin. Of course, there was the occasional drunk college kid that would more than likely regret everything in the morning, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t heard stories that brought you to tears. Tattoos for passed loved ones and promises of love for newly established family members written in ink on the skin. Symbols of strength for those that had just been through too much, and symbols of happiness and joy for those that felt better than they ever have. Customers would talk and talk while Jungkook drew what he heard on their skin, and that’s when you understood. You knew then how important this shop was to Jungkook and why, it went deeper than just his story, so many others were written on those walls.

You confronted him about it that night at your house and he just smiled at you. That was the first night you experienced what it felt like to fall in love with someone. Maybe you weren’t deep in love yet, maybe you hadn’t known him long enough, but at that moment you would have fought against anyone who tried to tell you any different.

The second time you felt yourself falling in love was when you saw him cry for the first time. That night was the anniversary of his grandfather’s death. You two were sitting in silence, eyes on the Animal Planet documentary currently playing on your TV, when you heard soft sniffles. Slowly, you brought your eyes over to the other end of the couch where Jungkook sat. His eyes were red, and tears slipped slowly down his cheeks, which were also red, indicating that he was trying to hold it back. It killed you to see those usually bright eyes that you had come to love in so much pain.

Without saying a word, you scooted closer to him. His eyes made contact with yours and you almost broke. You reached out your arms to wrap them around him, and as soon as he was engulfed by you, the dam broke. You could feel him shaking in your arms, and you began to draw little circles on his back with your thumb. “It’s okay.” You cooed softly. “I’m here Jungkook. I’m here.”

You held him there for what seemed like hours, before you heard his gentle snores in your ear. You laid him down on the couch, covered him up, and went to bed. Neither of you spoke of it the next morning.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The third time you felt yourself falling in love was different. You were far past falling, at this point you had already crashed. Touches and smiles that you once would’ve returned and left it at that were now keeping you awake at night. The only decent sleeps you got were on the nights he was in your living room, snoring away. He made you feel at home, and you were afraid of it.

You didn’t know how he felt about you, and you were sure it could never be the same way you felt about him. You couldn’t risk losing your friendship, so you kept your feelings locked away, in a part of you that only you had access to.

However, Jungkook didn’t make this easy on you. He was the same as he had always been: touchy. Yet it didn’t feel the same. It was different and it drove you crazy. And then one day you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The shop had closed up and you and Jungkook were the only two still in there, in the months that you had known each other closing shop with him and heading to your house was part of the routine. But not tonight. As Jungkook was cleaning up the counter, a thought crossed your mind. “Jungkook, what about your tattoos?”

He stopped wiping and turned to you, rag still in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... “, you fidgeted with the edge of your sundress. “Your story. The reasons behind your tattoos.”

He smiled softly and placed the rag down. “Well…” he started, walking over to where you were. “This one.” He pointed to a small butterfly on his neck. “Symbolizes change. A promise to myself to be a better me every day. This one.” He trails his fingers down to a key on his collarbone. “Loyalty. I’ll protect what’s closest to me.” He pulls the collar of his shirt down a little, revealing a semicolon somewhat to the right and below the key. “This was one of my first ones. After I overcame my depression. A symbol to stay strong.”

Almost as if you couldn’t control yourself, you reached out to him, tracing your finger softly over the shape of the semicolon. His breath hitched in his throat, the feeling of being that close to you more than he could handle. Hearing his breath catch, you looked up at him, fingers still in the place they were previously tracing.

“Y/N…” He let out in a breathy whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You almost begged, though you barely had enough time to get it out before his lips crashed against yours. At that moment, you didn’t care if he would hate you after this, maybe he regretted everything, but you needed to feel him. You craved his touch. The kiss deepened, the fiery passion that had been growing deep inside both of you for so long now exploding into fireworks. He wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you up around him and setting you down on the edge of the counter, to which you did not object.

He pulled away, breathing heavily. “Should we get you out of these clothes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded almost too quickly and he reached down to pull off your dress. He tugged it up and you helped him pull it off, the only material separating you two now being your lace bra and panties. He stared at you hungrily, as if he were a predator and you were the prey. He dropped your dress to the floor and went back to giving you attention with his lips, trailing them around your neck and lower and lower down your body, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands made their way to your thighs, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. He parted your legs, beginning to grind himself closer to you. God, that feeling alone was enough to drive you mad. “God Y/N, You’re so fucking beautiful.” He growled. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” You let out a sigh of intense pleasure, tangling your fingers into his hair and trying to pull him closer. You wanted to feel all of him. You let your hands slip down his body, coming to the hem of his t-shirt and raising your hands under it, feeling over his bare chest.

“Y/N…” He moaned out breathlessly, the tight feeling in his pants making it hard for him to think. He wanted to ravage your body. He was so desperate to feel himself inside of you, to feel you around him. He wanted you in every which way. You felt the same, evident from your increasingly soaking panties.

You faltered at the sound of him saying your name. “My name...say it again.”

He leaned in close to your neck. “Y/N.” He muttered, attaching his lips to the spot right below your ear. He kissed you again, this time lower. “Y/N.” He started to nibble on your collar bone and you felt like you were losing your mind. “Y/N. My beautiful princess, Y/N…” His hands slowly pushed you down, his lips never losing contact with your neck, until he had you laid on top of the counter, not caring about the binders and papers to be lost underneath you. He yanked his shirt off over his head, revealing the rest of his toned ink-filled skin. Your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, tighter against you.

His hands found their way to your bra, wasting no time removing the lacey material. He threw it on the floor with your dress, eager to give his attention back to you. Jungkook couldn’t believe the sight before him. You were so beautiful to him, and he couldn’t wait to show you. After all, actions speak louder than words.

He lowered his mouth to your chest, letting his tongue explore around the new area. The feeling of his tongue on you had caused your nipples to harden, and Jungkook had no intentions to neglect this fact, immediately swirling his tongue around the perky buds. He traced his tongue relentlessly around, leaving no room for any untasted spots.

“Jungkook.” You moaned out his name softly. This encouraged him more, his mouth now capturing your whole breast, making you mewl and squirm beneath him, mixing with his grinding against your center. You whined, eager for him to touch you, and he trailed his fingers down to your heat, rubbing the inside of your thighs in a circular motion, teasing you. You rutted against his fingers, causing him to slip two digits inside, a desperate whine erupting from the back of your throat.

He pushed them in deeper, swirling them around inside of you,stretching your walls and making you weak in the knees. You thrusted upwards, shoving him deeper inside of you, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be closer to you. He pulled his fingers away, to which you were about to object before he sunk down to his knees in front of you. He put his head in between your thighs, trailing kisses all around the inside. He looked up at you and you could unraveled right there, his lust filled eyes looking at you like you were a treasure to him, the only thing that mattered. Your thoughts were cut off as he placed his tongue over your slit, giving it one good lick. Your fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on it lately, making him let out a whimper and dive into you deeper. It felt euphoric, better than anything you had ever had before, and you could feel yourself edging closer to your orgasm. “Jungkook please..” You whimpered, and he let out a soft groan. You tugged on his hair again. “This feels amazing but please just get inside of me already.” When you told him like that, he couldn’t deny you.

He removed his belt buckled, sliding his pants down and positioning himself in between your legs, wasting no time pushing himself inside of you. He sighed at the feeling of your wet walls wrapping around him. You could feel him deep inside of you, and your back arched in pleasure, his hands going to hold your waist, giving him a better angle. He pounded into you mercilessly, and you let him take you over. No one could tell where you began and he ended, as your bodies molded together and your voices mixed to create the perfect song. One for only you two. As his pace quickened, you could feel your whole body getting tighter. Your walls clenched around him and your legs shook, your body wanted more of him, but it could only take so much. You let out one last yell and you swear you saw fireworks as Jungkook spilled the evidence of his pleasure inside of you. As you both came down from your high, Jungkook gave you one last kiss and pulled himself out of you. “I love you.” He whispered after he pulled away.

You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Jeon Jungkook, someone you didn’t think anyone could ever deserve, just told you he loved you. You loved him and he loved you. You smiled.

“I love you too Jungkook. I have for a while now.”

He kissed you once more, but it wasn’t the last time. It was only the first of many.

Tag List: @hazeljrz @goldenwidow3

931 notes · View notes

13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 16

A/N: This chapter is very Justin-centric. I felt like Addy and Justy needed a day where they didn't need to worry about boys or moms. Just a day to be kids. It’s kind of filler but I like it. It’s a light chapter. As always, feedback is always nice and much love. - Em

Things were awkward between us for the next week. We had agreed to table the discussion about his dad and had come to a tentative understanding about Justin. We had never had a fight like that before so, we weren’t really sure where the lines were yet. I learned that his dad was a line you don’t cross unless invited. He learned that Justin was a line that was going to run parallel to our relationship, whether he liked it or not. Monty’s behaviour at school was different too. He was a little nicer for people to be around. Not Tyler Down, but I couldn’t really blame him. The kid was fucking creepy. Monty was even sort of polite to Justin.

By the following Monday, things had gone back to normal. Our texts were longer and less to the point. He was… well he was more Monty at school than he was for a few days. His friends didn’t seem to pick up on the change. But I did. He’s trying. I got dressed in in my comfy light wash jeans, because Justin and I were going to the mall after school and paired it with a light pink tank top with an old red and black flannel. The flannel had been sitting at the back of my closet for quite a while. I found it while I was going through and cleaning it out for donations. “Morning Dad.” I called as I heard him pass my room. He cleared his throat and grunted in response. He must have just woken up.

Downstairs, dad was making a cup of coffee while he read the paper. “Morning Addy.” He nodded when he heard me. Definitely just woke up. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, I went through and gathered up my books for school. Once they were neatly arranged in my backpack, I set it by the door. My book from last night was still sitting on the island. I took it and flipped it open to my last page since I had a little time to kill before leaving for school. Deciding I would get too lost in the book, I rethought and took it over to my bag to take to school.

“Justin and I are going to the mall after school. He needs help shoe shopping. And I need to grab a few replacement shirts. I had to throw some out that were too old.”

“Have fun. Don’t forget to grab your mom’s prescription on the way home.”

“I won’t. Do we need anything else while we are out?”

“No, we should be okay. I’ll text you if I think of anything today. Your mom will be late today too. One of her students needed to schedule an afterhours meeting.”

“Okay. See you later dad.”

“Bye.”

Justin was early today, which surprised me. At least until I noticed his duffel bag. He must have spent the night at Bryce’s last night. He was mingling with his friends. I waved as I passed them to my locker, not paying anyone much mind. I watched them a bit from across the hall. They were goofing off as usual. Justin’s smile seemed a little forced. I’ll talk to him after school. My eyes scanned the group. When they landed on Monty, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. And I will admit I may have possibly spent more time than strictly required, simply checking him out. It was during my perusal of his body that I noticed something familiar. A little too familiar. My eyes widened and I looked down. That… that’s… we are wearing the same shirt. Spinning around and opening my locker again, I ripped off the flannel and shoved it in my locker.

Casually making my way over to the group of boys, I made sure to rub my arms like I was cold. “Morning Justin. Morning Boys.” I shivered.

“Morning Addy.” Justin said, as he leaned in to hug me gently.

“Where’s my morning Addy?” Bryce smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry Bryce. I must have forgotten we say morning to each other. Morning Walker.”

“Morning Addy. Are you cold or are you finally going to tell us all what your secret to doing well in school is?”

“I’m cold. And I’ve shared my secret with you before. It’s called actually opening the books they rent to us and reading them. Hey Justin, do you have an extra sweater? I spilled water on my other shirt like right after I left the house.”

“Yeah, I have one in my locker. Go ahead and grab it.”

“Thanks. Have I told you you’re the best lately?”

“Nope.” He laughed.

“Well, now I have.”

I was in a good mood when lunch rolled around. I nodded to Courtney in the hall on my way to the cafeteria. She was talking to Marcus about one thing or another. Tyler was watching Hannah in a way that had it been anyone else, wouldn’t have been weird. Clay was watching her too. I smiled and waved at him. He nodded back. “Hey Addison.” Tyler called. I turned around and he waved his camera at me. I waved my book in the air like I was busy but stopped for the student life photographer anyway. He snapped his photo and I continued on.

Since I was in a good mood, I didn’t even think twice about sitting with Justin and his friends. “Are we eating at the mall?” Justin asked when I sat down.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll have to stop at Baker Drugs on my way home though. Mum has a refill waiting.”

“Okay.” He nodded and bit into his sandwich. Jeff bounded over to the table.

“Guess who got above a C?” He asked, proudly.

“You?” Anders asked in response.

“Yup. Now I can finally make Clay make a move.”

“He’s going to hate it Jeff.” I said.

“I know. But he needs to put himself out there.”

“Make a move on who?” Monty asked.

“Hannah Baker.” Jeff replied. “Everyone knows he likes her.”

“I don’t really pay attention to the Jensen kid.” He shrugged.

“He hates dances.”

“I know. But a deal is a deal. I get above a C he goes to the dance. Are you going Addy?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”

“Why not?” Bryce asked. I rolled my eyes.

“I hate school dances. The only not crappy part is that Tony is DJing.”

“You have to go. I’m going.” Justin begged with his mouth full.

I shook my head. What is it with boys not chewing their food? “I went to the last one. It’s Bryce’s turn to babysit you.”

“I babysat last time.”

“No, you didn’t. You were sneaking off behind the bleachers with your date. I babysat. Plus, I can’t tie a tie. And neither can Justin. Ergo, your turn.”

“Yes you-.” Justin started. I kicked him under the table.

“I’m not going to the stupid dance. Besides, I have homework.”

“Addison. The dance isn’t for like three weeks.” Jeff complained.

“I know Jeff. But I am not Clay Jensen. I have friends. I have a life.”

“Aren’t you friends with Clay?” Scott asked.

“Yes. So, I know he keeps to himself. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to the dance.”

“You’re not going to the dance yet.” Justin smiled devilishly. I rolled my eyes.

“Did you finish your English paper?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Did you?” He challenged. Monty choked on a laugh. Smooth. Bryce quirked his brow.

“Did you just ask her if she finished a homework assignment?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“Yes, I did. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. Since you’re on me about my homework.”

“Justin. The last time she handed something in late, was like seventh grade because she was out of school the day it was due.” Monty added.

“I remember. She had a stress rash because of it. How do you remember?”

He shrugged. “It had never happened before.” He noticed that? And thought it was important enough to remember? Thankfully before any more questions could be raised, the bell rang.

“I’ll meet you at my locker after school Justin.” He gave me a thumbs up before walking away, already in conversation with Zach about something.

Justin and I drove to the mall, singing along to whatever was on a Spotify artist radio. “Do we want a pretzel now or later?” I asked as I pulled my purse out of my backpack in the car. I had changed back into the flannel from this morning while I waited for my best friend at my locker.

“Now.” We said in unison.

Pretzels in hand, we wandered around the mall for a while. “I need some new shirts. I had to throw a bunch out because they were really old and not able to be donated.”

“You want opinions?”

“Of course.”

“Shoes first?”

“Sure.”

“DSW?” He shrugged and nodded. At the store, we headed straight for the men’s section. I pointed out a few pairs that seemed like they were his style. He made a face at the first couple of pairs and shook his head. Shrugging, I pointed out a pair of Nikes that were on sale. He gave me his best seriously look and I laughed. “They could be nice.”

“Yeah. If I want to look like my feet are three sizes bigger than they are.”

“You know what they say about guys with big feet though Justin.” He flipped me off. “What about these?” This time, he actually tried them on. They were not the right ones.

After a few more busts, we decided it was time to try a different store. Famous Footwear was having a sale. We stopped in there. Once again, we headed straight for the men’s sneakers. He tried a couple of pairs of Converse. Neither of us were very big fans. “White?” I asked, pointing out a pair of Pumas.

“No.” He shot down. I nodded and we kept looking. He picked up a pair of grey and white Nikes. “These are nice.”

“They are.” We found his size and he tried them on. “How do they feel?”

“Good.” He flexed his foot a few times before trying them out to walk. “Yeah, these feel good.” I smiled and we placed them back in the box to go pay.

Shoes in hand, we made a quick pitstop for coffee. Justin brought up the topic of the Winter Formal again while we walked around trying to find some shirts for me. “Are you really not going to go Addy?”

“No Justin. I don’t want to go. And besides, I have no one to go with.” At least, no one I can go to a school dance with.

“You can go with us.”

“Go with you and Bryce. And Bryce’s boys?” I quirked my brow, sharply.

“Yeah. We don’t bite. We are fun.”

“Fun. Sure.” I muttered.

“You could see Clay try to talk to Hannah.”

“Or I could sit at home and binge watch Pretty Little Liars.”

“I thought you said you had homework Addy.”

“You know that was just so Jeff would let my excuse slide. For now, at least.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“If I say I’ll think about it, will you drop it?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Then I will think about it.” He made a fist pumping motion and I burst out laughing. “You are such a freaking dork.”

We stopped at Target and looked around the clothes-he wasn’t going to let me look at anything else-for a while. But nothing really felt like me when I looked at it or tried it on. American Eagle was a little better. I was able to at least find things I liked on the hanger and on me. “This?” I asked Justin when I came out of the dressing room in a soft purple shirt.

“It’s nice. Makes your boobs look good.”

“That’s always a plus.” I added it to the small yes pile. A blue one was next. He shook his head.

“Not your colour.”

“Didn’t think so.” A couple more noes were added to the pile before we checked out. Aritzia and Zara were close by, but I didn’t like anything on the rack enough to try it on. We made a quick stop at Madewell and I got a couple of plain white t-shirts.

“Can we make a Sephora stop? I need to replace my foundation.”

“We can if you give me your wallet, so you don’t spend all of your money.”

“I won’t spend it all. I literally only need a new bottle of foundation.”

“Alright. You have ten minutes to get in line tops.”

“Yes Dad.” I shook my head. Justin scoffed jovially. He followed close behind me in the store to make sure I stayed true to my word. They were out of my shade in my usual formula. I grabbed a bottle of my backup formula instead. By the time we were done, I didn’t even have the energy to make a stop at the bookstore. We decided to grab a slice of pizza to go instead of sitting in the food court.

Back in town, we stopped at Baker Drugs and got my mom’s prescription. I grabbed a box of gobstoppers for good measure and grinned at Justin. “Are you spending the night? We can do movies before bed as long as you aren’t a pain in my ass in the morning.”

“Sure. I’ll let my mom know.”

At home, I texted Monty while Justin was in the bathroom. Hey, Justin is spending the night for movie night.

Okay. How was shopping?

Good. I got some stuff.

Awesome. Enjoy your movies babe. Justin came back before I could reply. “Who you texting?”

“Just Zach about our Government assignment. Do we want snacks?”

“Of course, we want snacks.” Together, the two of us went downstairs and raided the cabinets.

“Hi Justin. Hi Addison.” Mum greeted as she came in the door.

“Hi Margot.” Justin replied.

“Hi Mum.”

“Make sure you don’t eat too much candy you two.” She chuckled when she saw us trying to stuff a box of Swedish berries in Justin’s sweater.

“We won’t Mum.”

“Yes Mom.”

I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Justin and I ran upstairs with our contraband. We both changed into comfy clothes and arranged our candy on my bed. When the microwave beeped, I ran back down to get it. Mum pretended not to notice me grabbing an extra chocolate bar. I heard her laughing with dad about it though.

“They really are quite cute together.”

“I suppose. Thankfully we don’t need to worry about them being another kind of cute.” Dad said. No, you really don’t.

Justin had Netflix pulled up when I got back to my room and shut the door. He was scrolling aimlessly. “I put butter on in the middle and the top.”

“Wonderful.” He grinned. “What mood are we in?”

“Superbad?”

“Addison! That is an R rated movie.” He exclaimed, scandalously.

“But it’s funny.”

“Superbad it is.” We got settled and hit play. After it was done, we scrolled through and picked The Social Network. Finally, just for fun to end the night… er, morning, we decided to watch the 2011 Footloose. Between the three films, we ate so much candy we knew we would wake up with stomach aches on Tuesday.

15 notes · View notes

joheun-saram · 4 years

Text

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

____________________________

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

---------------------------------------

previous | masterlist | next

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts rm scenario #bts scenarios #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts rm #bts namjoon #rm x reader #rm fluff #usersuhdays

118 notes · View notes

thetomorrowshow · 4 years

Text

Slower Than Words Ch. 2

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

A/N: So, I lied. I know I said that I was looking at 10 chapters, but it’s going to be a bit longer than that. I’m thinking 12-15 now! Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Just a reminder that there is a cult featured in this fic. I am in no way endorsing cults, nor am I criticizing anyone’s religion.

CW: kidnapping, food mention, inflicted blindness

Patton had always been, in general, a happy person. Sure, he couldn't hear. His father, however, had always taught him that a disability was only an ability with extra letters.

He'd never been allowed to learn how to read lips—it was something he'd read about, but knew he couldn't figure out without a teacher. The one time he'd asked Father, the man had grabbed his hands and pulled him into the hall closet, quickly signing to never bring it up again.

Father had homeschooled Patton—not unusual, everyone in the Haven homeschooled, but what was unusual was that they also home-churched. Everyone else went to chapel, so why couldn't they? Father never explained why.

Patton didn't see much of anyone else. As a child, he played outside with the other children in the Haven, but soon they ignored him in favor of their hearing friends. He saw people at the socials, but Father tended to guide him away from the big conversations, letting him know that what they were talking about wasn't important.

While a little lonely, life was fine. Patton had Father to talk to, books to read, and a house to live in. He had a job washing dishes in the Haven's charity hall, mostly so that he wouldn't be alone while Father was at work. Father worked at the Lab in the center of the Haven, a very prestigious job that made him well-regarded in the community. Life was fine. Everything was fine.

Until one day, it wasn't.

That day, Patton walked home from work to find Father hurriedly packing a bag, his lab coat and tie askew.

That day, as Patton tried to get his father's attention so he could ask what was wrong, the burly perimeter guards of the Haven shoved Patton out of the way.

That day, the last thing Patton saw of his father was a quick flash of his hands as they dragged him away—I love you.

Patton had gotten on decently for the past year without Father. He continued to go to work, continued to study the Haven's theology. He missed dinner, where the chairs would both be filled. He missed sitting in Father's room on the bed, looking over a book together. Sometimes, Father would get out the big book of maps that he kept behind the bookcase and show Patton how big the world was.

Now Patton realized how big the world was without his father to fill it.

Patton attended chapel every Sunday now, even though he had no idea what was going on. The prayers were weird, once he realized they were prayers. It was nothing like Father had taught him—there was more pounding on pulpits and angry faces then he was used to. There was much more hand-holding, much more mouth-moving. Sometimes, there was even crying, but Patton didn't know why. Still, every Sunday morning he put on one of Father's many blue ties and walked to the center of the Haven for church, just beside the Lab.

That was how they got him.

It started out as a normal Sunday.

The alarm clock on the his pillow vibrated, and Patton gradually woke up. He rolled out of bed and put on his nicest clothes, brushing his teeth soon after. He didn't eat breakfast or lunch on Sundays—no one in the Haven did, that time was reserved for fasting.

It still felt wrong, disturbing the dust in Father's room just to get one of his ties. He supposed he could move the ties, if it bothered him that much, but Patton couldn't bear to move what was lodged so firmly in his memories. Hardly anything in Father's room was touched, and he intended to keep it that way. He had unpacked the suitcase Father had been hurrying to fill on that last day—it was mostly food and some clothes, with a blue pocket-sized notebook that only had nonsense scribbling in it. Patton kept it in his pocket at all times, and now slipped it into his khakis (his only nice pants, he daily wore Haven-made jeans and the khakis were one of his only possessions from outside the perimeter).

Tie tied, Patton started the short walk to church.

Church was as usual, but for some reason more uncomfortable than it had been so far—which was saying something. Now, though, Patton felt as if he was being watched. He shook it off as nonsense. Everyone knew who he was, just as he knew who everybody was. The Haven wasn't very large, after all.

Patton left just before church ended—he often left during the last hymn, it generally got very confusing after that—and discovered that he was not the only one who left early, as a sack was pulled over his head. He struggled for a moment, before the woozy smell of the inside of the sack hit him and he was out like a light.

The first thing Patton did when he woke up was cough.

The second thing was take in his surroundings. He was in a small room, plaster walls and concrete floor painted grey. He was on a bed, and there was another pushed up against the wall on his right. A heavy-looking door was set into the wall opposite, with what looked almost like a locked doggy door in the foot of it. Other than the beds, the only break in the monotony of the room was a curtained-off segment with a toilet and sink—if you could call it a sink. It was more of a faucet sticking out of the wall, a shelf with a bar of soap beside it.

That first day, Patton wandered the room, pressing every spot on the wall, knocking on the door, pushing at the flap in the door. Nothing budged. Eventually, he retired to the bed he'd woken up in, the true magnitude of his situation hitting him all at once. He managed to retain composure until he checked his pocket—they had taken Father's notebook. Patton cried for hours.

Every day passed similarly. At first, it took Patton a long time to figure out the day and night schedule, but eventually he trained his body to wake up when the meal that felt most like breakfast was pushed through the flap. He'd been there, wallowing in his boredom, for maybe two weeks when the man was pushed in.

Patton was on the bed when it happened. The people that dragged him in wore masks, but Patton still recognized them from their hair—Brother Gracer, from next door; Brother Hadley, from the charity hall. They left the man curled up on the floor, not even sparing a glance in Patton's direction before leaving once again.

The man was dressed in Outsider clothes—a black hoodie with purple patches, soft-looking jeans. Like Patton, he didn't wear shoes—but Patton had to wonder if they'd been taken from him too, or if he'd never had any in the first place.

While he stared, frozen in shock, the man moved. He carefully stood, wavering dangerously, and on his first step stumbled and hit the floor. Patton winced, but the man got back up and tried again. This time he managed two steps before falling. He wasn't coming anywhere near Patton—he was actually facing the direction of the door—but Patton pressed himself against the wall anyway. Everyone in the Haven had an uneasy fear of Outsiders. They were rash and sinful, and would stop at nothing to drag everyone down with them.

The man seemed to realize that he wasn't able to walk, because now he was crawling, one arm outstretched and shaking. His fingers slammed into the door moments later, and the man recoiled before falling again. This time, he didn't try to get back up, instead curling on his side. It took Patton a couple of minutes to realize the man was sniffling—maybe crying, maybe cold.

Yes, it was an Outsider, but everyone got cold or sad, didn't they? Everyone needed help. A few minutes more, and Patton had gathered enough strength to slip off the bed and pad across the floor. Before he lost his nerve, he reached down and poked the Outsider's shoulder. The man gasped and reared back, preparing to attack, and Patton jumped away. It wouldn't do to make him angry. Still, though, the man looked cold, and that was something Patton knew he could fix.

He debated for a second over whether to get his own blanket or the one off the untouched bed—but that one was coated in dust, and for all Patton knew, the man was allergic to dust, so he grabbed his own.

It was vaguely reminiscent of creeping up behind a lion, Patton thought as he held the blanket out in front of him. The man was slowly relaxing, stretching a bit as he lay his head back on the floor. Before he could change his mind, Patton threw the blanket on top of him.

The man flinched, arms raised, then slowly sat up. He pulled the blanket around himself closer, but shivered still.

Patton was enthralled by this man. He'd only met two Outsiders before, both of them looking to sell things and investigate the life of the Haven. Neither of them had ever attacked him, and this man hadn't so far. Patton sat down opposite him, then reached out a hand to his shoulder.

For the first time, Patton could see his face. Before, he'd been turned away or his strangely long hair had been hiding his features. Now though, Patton could see his trembling lips, his small nose, his pale skin, his cloudy grey eyes.

The man's mouth moved, and his eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over at the slightest provocation. Patton smiled slightly and tapped his own ears. This man, strange as he was, needed a hug, a Patton was the perfect person to give him one.

When Patton pulled back, he tapped his ears again, but the man didn't seem to see. His eyes were focused at a point slightly to the right of Patton, and one arm flailed out, as if trying to find him again. Patton grabbed it, quieting the frantic fingers as his father might have when he was signing too much in public. Could the man see him?

Cautiously, Patton waved his other hand in front of the man's face, watching for any movement from those eyes. Nothing. Now that he looked closer, he noticed that what he'd first thought were bags under his eyes were bruises. The man couldn't see.

Well, they were two peas in a pod, weren't they? Patton tried not to think about how they would communicate as he pulled the man into another hug. They'd figure everything out.

Taglist (feel free to ask to be added!): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21

96 notes · View notes

mymoodwriting · 4 years

Text

Kindness Goes A Long Way

F!Reader x Sicheng

Genre: Post Apocalypse AU

Warning: Manipulation, Illusions, Murder, Blood, Trauma

Words: 2.1K

Chapters:

Prompt: The end of the world is hard to accept as it is, but it’s even harder to be alone. It seems fate had brought you to Sicheng, someone who can definitely survive in the abandoned waste land that had become of Earth. You then find yourself with a group of others, and you might just have a chance at survival. The only problem is there’s something off about the group, something they’re not telling you, and it might mean the difference between life and death.

You woke up in Sicheng arms. It was always a bit surprising to you that he felt so warm, almost like he was human. The fact that he’d also lay down with you and close his eyes, imitating sleep, was also a bit weird. He seemed rather peaceful too. You tried getting out of bed, but his grip on you tightened a bit.

“No, not yet.”

“What?”

“Sh.”

A light dizzy spell hit you and you laid your head back down on the pillow. You could see Sicheng’s glowing blue eyes through your hazy vision. He reached over and moved a strand of hair out of your face, just watching you.

“Johnny came by last night… wanted to check up on you, but you were asleep.”

“Hm…”

“So, he said you should stop by the medbay in the morning.”

“Okay…”

A few more minutes passed before you were finally allowed to get up. Sicheng kissed your head and took the chip off, letting you gain back your senses. You got out of bed and prepared for the day. Johnny had already mentioned your check up to others so you wouldn’t be expected for a while in the kitchen. Sicheng also made it clear he wasn’t happy about the morning visit, but you had to go alone. When you got to the medbay Johnny greeted you.

“Hey, good morning.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah. Haechan told me you weren’t doing so well yesterday, asked me if I could check up on you.”

“Oh… I’m fine…”

“That’s good to hear, but while you’re here anyway, do you mind if I run some tests?”

“Um… I guess so.”

“Cool. Have a seat.”

You sat down on one of those beds you’d find in a check up room. Johnny went through the procedural stuff, heart rate and blood pressure, then said he wanted to run some others, like blood tests and x-ray scans.

“You know, I’m the doctor around these places, every type too. Well I like to think so. If you want to talk to someone, I’m all ears.”

“Thanks…”

“Now, I do have a question for you, have you been sleeping okay?”

“Um… sometimes…”

“And the other times?”

“Nightmares.”

“About?”

“The usual… what happened that day…”

“Ah, yes, sorry to hear about that. Is it why you have a mistrust of people.”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just seem very… shy around people. I don’t mean to pry, we can end the conversation here.”

“No you’re fine… I just didn’t think another person would kill me…”

“They didn’t, you lived.”

“Yeah… Sicheng came and… saved me.”

“That’s when he found you right? Him and his group?”

“Yes.”

“How are you with them? Friends?”

“I’d say so. I’m alive thanks to them, and they’re very smart.”

“Yeah, bunch of tough guys.”

The door to the medbay opened and you both looked over, seeing Haechan walk in. He immediately smiled when he saw you, rushing over.

“Y/n!”

“Hi, Haechan, what are you doing here?”

“Talked to the council, I’m Johnny’s assistant now.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Yup, you should come by and visit me often.”

“Will do.” You smiled. “Do you have any more tests or should I go now?”

“Um…” Johnny looked at some files. “Yeah, we’re good. I’ll call you if the results are weird.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you two around.”

You said your goodbyes and made your exit, going to work. Once you were gone Johnny pulled Haechan close.

“What?”

“So I went to go see y/n last night…”

“And?”

“Um… she was asleep… I thought I could wake her but that’s when I saw it…”

“Saw what?”

“There was a chip on her head.”

“A chip… you mean… those mind control ones… the bots use…”

“Yeah…”

“How is that possible! Those… the people she came with… but-”

“They passed their tests coming in, they’re human.”

“No, no that’s not… then where did that chip come from? You told me y/n hasn’t known them for long… wait… can’t those things mess with memory?”

“I… I don’t know, all we know is that they put the victim in a trance like state and they do whatever they’re told.”

“These things are advance, why wouldn’t they be able to mess with our heads.”

“I… I guess… old theories say it’s possible to plant suggestions and alter behavior when someone is in a trance.”

“We need to tell the council this. Human or not, we can’t trust those guys and y/n-”

“Would be treated like the enemy as well. She’d get locked up and interrogated or whatever else the council would want to do to them. We can’t tell anyone, not yet.”

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

“Jungwoo… he brought them here… could he be… compromised too?”

“I don’t know, we have no way of knowing. Look we don’t know anything, and we can’t tell anyone, not yet.”

“Then when? Those… things have been here for weeks, doing who knows what! And one of those things shares a bed with y/n! We have to-”

“Haechan, we don’t know what the council will do with her or Jungwoo. If they’re compromised they’ll be treated the same. Thrown out or killed or worse, we need to be able to prove that she’s not one of them. Besides right now we don’t have any evidence, I just saw a chip on her head. That little bit of information will just make the council act rash, we need more.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever, but how are we going to get more evidence?”

“I just ran some tests on y/n and drew some blood. Maybe we can find something there.”

“Alright… alright… let’s find something.”

♥♥♥♥♥

Once you had a break in your shift, Sicheng came by to pick you up. He took you to the garden, something you found impressive considering it was underground. There was a special way to get sunlight down there and keep the plants alive, and it was worth it to have such beauty. You find a nice little place to sit down among the flowers, children playing around you. Sicheng pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your head. As you looked around tears started building up.

“Sicheng…”

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want anyone to die here… please…”

“I don’t want anyone to die either, but that only happens if everyone cooperates. My calculations say that is highly unlikely. We’ll try to keep the casualties low, promise.”

You started to feel fuzzy and closed your eyes for a moment, yet when you opened them everything had changed. You pulled away from Sicheng and looked around. You weren’t underground anymore, but outside, sitting on a grassy hilltop with the sun shining down. In the distance you could see some buildings, and what you believe were other people.

“What… where am I? How did I get here? What happened?”

“Easy.” Sicheng pulled you back into his arms. “We didn’t go anywhere, I’m just showing you something.”

“Ha… how?”

“That’s not important. I wanted to show you my home, and I want to bring you here soon.”

What you saw was rather beautiful and peaceful, certainly looked like paradise. Your head got fuzzy again and you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were back in the underground garden. You rubbed your eyes, trying to make sure what you were seeing was real.

“How did you do that without a chip?”

“Hm.” Sicheng just smiled. “I’m just glad it worked.”

♥♥♥♥♥

While you made your way back to work you had a rather prominent smile on your face. He just wanted to take you home, and you couldn’t help but smile over that sentiment.

“Y/n!”

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard your name, seeing that Haechan had been waiting for you.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to check on you. Also ask if you wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Hang out? What is there to do around here.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Then what are we doing?”

“That’s a secret, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Okay then, tonight.”

“Tonight.”

You didn’t tell Sicheng about your night time gathering, not wanting him to reject it and force you to bed. You met up with Haechan, who had brought Johnny and his friend Mark. With the place being below ground there were a lot of caves, many you hadn’t explored yet, and many that were apparently still being built. You followed them to the garden and into some of the caves. It was a bit dark but then you came to this rather big, round, place.

“Is this it?”

“Look up.” Haechan giggled. “That’s why we’re here.”

You gave him a curious look before doing as he said. You saw a sky full of stars, and it was amazing. You were so excited, bouncing about. Johnny grabbed your hand, pulling you down. The best way to star gaze was while laying down, and he brought a blanket and snacks.

“You know, I hope one day I can look at the sky from the ground.” Mark said. “It’ll be like getting closer to the stars…”

“Very poetic.” You commented. “I’ve never seen the stars like this before.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Despite the beautiful view you felt sleepy. This seemed like a nice place to rest for a moment and you knew the boys would wake you up. As you began to close your eyes you suddenly jumped awake, for a moment not aware of your surroundings and looking frantically around before passing out.

You found yourself far from reality. Your vision was hazy, but as you looked around you knew where you were. Bodies surrounded you, mostly head injuries. You heard a gun cock and immediately ran. You were in a store, it’s where the group had set up camp for the night, there had to be somewhere you could hide. As you ran you could hear the footsteps following you. The fear and panic caused you to trip up and you tumbled to the floor.

You turned back in fear, trying to crawl away, but being at the barrel end of a gun made you freeze. You thought you were gonna die like the rest when your would be killer suddenly dropped dead. You were still in shock but you managed to see a knife sticking out of the guys head, and someone else approaching you. Fear overtook you again and you tried to get away but the other person got to you, pulling you up and into their arms. They held you close while you cried, assuring you that you were safe.

Haechan had you in his arms, trying to shake you out of whatever was happening, but you just stared up blankly at the ceiling. The three boys were panicking, not sure what to do with you. Johnny said you needed to be taken back to the medbay where they could look after you better. Just as they were about to go you screamed and regained your senses. You pushed Haechan away and scrambled to your feet. Disoriented and unsure of where you were or who the boys were.

They tried to calm you down, assuring you they were friends, but it did nothing to help. You saw an opening and made a run for it. The walls were all the same, so you didn’t know if you were actually getting anywhere. While frantically running about you crashed into someone. You screamed at first until you saw who it was and then hugged them tight.

“Make me forget!” You screamed. “Sicheng, please, make me forget that day!”

When Sicheng heard footsteps approaching he held you tight. Haechan and the other two appeared, surprised at his presence but then concerned over you. Well two of them were, Haechan seemed mad, wanting to say something but Johnny held him back.

“Sicheng, funny seeing you here.”

“I heard screaming, and I know what hers sound like.” You whimpered. “Please be careful around her. And I would prefer you not take up her nights, she needs rest.”

“Y/n can do whatever-”

“We understand.” Johnny cut Haechan off. “Sorry for the trouble, hope she sleeps well.”

“Good night.”

Sicheng pulled you along, taking you back to your room. Johnny kept his grip on Haechan until it was just the three of them again. He sighed in relief, worried that things might not have gone so smoothly.

“How did he get here?” Mark asked.

“Huh?” Haechan said. “What are you talking about?”

“Not many know of these tunnels, and isn’t he new? How did he even come this far to find her?”

Johnny and Haechan shared a look, the suspicious remarks making them both uneasy. Mark of course noticed the look, wondering what it was for.

“What?”

20 notes · View notes

theplumsoldier · 5 years

Text

INEBRIATED [2]

PART 1, PART 2

Summary: lol its so weird to brush your teeth before breakfast, tagged some sweet people i figured wouldnt mind; if you did so sooorry

Pairing: ari levinson x reader

Word count: 2243

Warnings: smut, explicit language, vulgar language.

When awaking in the early morning your head throbbed with a mean ache, a foul taste was in your mouth and you were felt to the brim with contrite of last night’s endeavors. Surely the night went well in comparison to what unpleasant tension you first had thought the situation would mint, and regardless of the attempted advantages in which you were certain you would hear of, you thought you did pretty well in spite of the liters of alcoholic substances you must have consumed. The very thought of the multi-substance abuse you had exposed yourself to was enough to send you sprinting out of bed, hell-bent on reaching the bathroom before stomach acid would spill from your mouth.

The taste was like anything sour you had imagined, with only alcohol and no food in your stomach to give up on you felt a burn in your throat, tears pressing in your eyes as you could barely breathe. The incident only carried on for a minute or so, and you slid from your knees to your behind and leaned against the wall, head bumping on the tiles and a moan left your lips.

Opening your eyes again you saw Ari standing tall before you, a crease between his eyebrows, tired look in his eyes and bare chest to drool over. A grin drew his face upward, and he nodded to you. “You good?”

Putting on an exhausted smile you held out your hand, giving him a thumbs up in response. As you had thought he would have left not long after you had fallen asleep you were pleased to see he still was in your apartment. You reached up to flush the toilet and pulled yourself up with the help of the sink, Ari coming to aid you in gaining your balance. Offering yourself a look in the mirror, you immediately pulled a face.

“I look like a wreck,” insulted you, tipping your head and wetting your chapped lips.

Ari too took a look at you in the mirror from behind you, eyes seeing nothing but morning glory as the sun put a fine shine on your skin through the window from the hall. He smiled and turned to find your toothbrush, figuring you would want to get rid of the taste of vomit.

“Mission succeeded, eh? Didn’t drown,” joked you and wiggled your eyebrows, gaining a look from your friend. He put toothpaste on the brush and held it out for you to take and with a ‘thanks’ you shoved it past your lips. “There’s a spare in the—”

“I know,” interrupted he and you looked back up. His shoulders heaved and he went to put on a shirt, encouraging you to lean in the mirror to get a last discreet look at the body the looked to be sculptured by the hands God on his Sunday off. “I helped myself when I woke up an hour ago! Hope that’s okay!”

So the man’s been awake for an hour and didn’t bother putting on his clothes? Probably wanted to rub those abs in my face, thought you to yourself and shook your head with a smirk, spitting into the sink.

Washing your face and finishing up you met him in the kitchen, where he stood by the stove, in the middle of making eggs and you saw he had found the toast, as well.

“I’d tell you to feel at home, but it seems you already are,” commented you and sat by the table he had prepared.

He chuckled as he went on about his business.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” began you but before you could say anymore, Ari cut in and came to pour coffee into the cup before you.

“Don’t worry about it. Yesterday was fun.”

You smiled, “I couldn’t agree more but really—I didn’t mean for you to take care of me the entire night. I drank, like, too much and also trying to kiss you wasn’t very cool either. That would have been weird.”

The words seemed to make him stiff in his posture, suddenly rigid and you dared look up at him. His eyes were fixated on the coffee pouring, pink lips parted. Waiting for some kind of reaction, you hoped he would not make some comment making you lose all hope for the future. You yourself did not actually consider, say you would have shared a kiss - even if meaningless and something only to be guilted on your drunken state, to be weird, although it certainly could have changed the whole situation between the two of you. Your teeth grazed your lip; coming to think of it, it might have been better now that you never got that kiss you wanted.

“It’s okay,” was all he said, offering you a kind smile, one out of pity you thought. He put away the kettle and went on to serve you half of the eggs, his eyes only meeting you once his last word was spoken. “I mean, if you hadn’t been shitfaced I just might have taken you up on that offer.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, not expecting him to speak so blatantly.

“I’m not drunk now.”

“That’s right.”

Silence once veiled the pair of you and you felt the lump in your throat grow in size and the butterflies in your stomach took off. He turned off the stove and put the pan in the sink where you were embarrassed to see days washing-up congregated. Boldly deciding to seize the moment, you stood from the chair and met him in a kiss you had fantasized about for all too long.

It was obvious he had not expected you to act in such a rash way, still, Ari could not find it in him to do this the right way as your lips delicately danced in sync with his. He could taste the mint from the toothpaste once you slid your tongue past his lip. Moaning into your mouth something beside you clattered but you did not care enough to halt to kiss, so instead you snaked your arm by his abdomen and pulled him closer, your other hand tugging at his neck to deepen the passionate kiss.

“The—the eggs are gettin’ cold,” you managed to utter against his lips, breathing heavily. The distance between the two of you was surely immeasurable, a hair’s breadth separating the two of you from melting into one.

“I don’t mind cold eggs.”

Smirking against his lips, you felt him force you against the counter. You had never felt this close to a person before, it was as if you in that very moment were one and the same, and all your troubling worries seemed to vanish. As if you could let your guard down and not even pay attention to what he might think of you, Ari made your apartment feel more like home than it ever had. Just as the kiss got to deepen and his hand squeezed at your hip, he made the baneful mistake of misplacing his hand on the stove.

“Fuck!”

Overwhelmed with a sudden pain rather than the prospering ardor, Ari accidentally bit down on your lip as he pulled back, clutching his hand tightly.

“Holy shit, here!” You hastily turned on the water tap, pushing away some of the dishes so water would not splash everywhere. Pulling at his arm, you held his hand under the cold water and Ari winced, his jaw clenching tightly. Keeping it in that setting for a small while he began grinning when your eyes locked.

You gave him a funny look, addled. “What, why—Jesus, Ari, are you okay?”

“Are you?” asked he in response and gestured to your lip, his unharmed hand reaching up to brush it, displaying a drop of red. Your tongue darted out and you felt the sting of where a layer of skin had been torn loose.

“I’m fine. Do—do you need that checked out?” you asked with concern.

“No need,” averred he, lust laced in his dark tone and pulled you back to him as if his hand was not burning with an itchy pain.

“Ari,” hummed you against his plump lips and grinned when he only pulled you closer, realizing that although you were apprehensive you never wanted for this moment to end.

With closed eyes, you reached out to turn off the running water. His large hand brought you impossibly close to his body, his hard chest feeling like stone against you and your heart fluttered as he moaned hoarsely into your mouth. How the guttural sound you elicited vibrated on your lips made you weak in the knees, and just as the world had come to be still, it was now spinning as you desperately clung to Ari.

“Let’s. . . The bedroom,” mumbled you incoherently, the idea of leaving his lips cold for even a split-second appearing condemning in thought.

Ari effortlessly lifted you from the ground, holding you close and your legs intuitively wrapped around his figure. Ambling into the bedroom he barely bumped into anything on the way and he put you on the bed, his face distanced from yours by an inch. Finding yours you could tell his eyes looked to be darker in the light of events as well as the dim room, rays of sun shining naturally on the spot of the large bed. It was odd to think of its size for it brought him to the man he once had been very close with, the man he was certainly never had been as good to you as you had pretended. It was the one another man had slept in, one Dan had claimed you in and that Ari was not blithe with.

Narrowing your eyes, you found his steel eyes pacific, something resembling wanton appetite. “What is it?”

His head dropped, the impious sin leaving him. He was on it now, with you and that meant no room for moronic thoughts of your ex. For this feeling of intimacy, Ari waited for the longest time to be the other part of, only ever chastising himself for being jealous of his best friend. He went back to taking in the beauty of your most prominent features. “You just look so beautiful.”

Heart skipping a beat, you slid your fingertips in a hair, sensing your pulse in the frail flesh and you pulled him close so that he would not see your blush. Taking the lead, Ari allowed you to overpower him and once you were positioned on top of him, on the part of his torso where his shirt had slid up, he had to lean back an appreciate the divine look.

“I have to leave for work soon,” chided you, the reminder suddenly a passing thought. Truthfully you were unaware of the time and it might as well have been past 10 o’clock, albeit you knew you had work and would tragically have to excuse yourself at some point, interrupting the fun.

Ari’s hands slid to your bottom, spurring you to shift against him, grind on his abdomen and you complied. Taking his time to observe the way your face contorted from pleasure as you felt his bulge grow beneath you, he put his lips on yours, swallowing the delicate moans he induced.

Subtly trailing his calloused hand over the softness of your skin, you shivered at the affection of his touch and could feel yourself ache for more while his hand approached your cunt. The dance his finger performed on your body initiated at a sedate and clement something for you to keep up with. As he applied extra pressure, you deferred to his magical work in encouraging moans and ground down harder against his hard, nude abdomen. Your legs started to involuntarily taut and you pressed your clothed sex hard against him, surely leaving a stain behind both in your underwear and his skin, too.

“That’s it, Y/N, that’s it,” Ari panted while guiding you back and forth as his hips bucked in reflex. Your hand went to massage your breast over the shirt you wore, tugging at your nipple through the clothing and your head rolled back. With closed eyes and teeth biting down hard on your red lip, you concentrated on the restricted sensation. “Fuck, doll, you look so good riding me like that.”

Coming off on his bare abdomen was something he never had experienced a woman doing, yet he could not admit it was not blatantly alluring, watch your glisten like that on his well-defined abs. In spite of being retained in his pants, he felt delectation in a way he rarely did, and so as you went on to plant sweet kisses down his neck, your alarm went off, blaring to your surprise.

Hurriedly you turned it off, facing Ari with an apologetic look, craving peeking from behind your deep orbs. “I ought to go soon.”

Chest heaving rapidly, Ari panted with a content grin. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“I just came in my pants.”

You looked down his body, your eyes widening when seeing the size of the saturated area you had made. “Sorry,” you whimpered, your voice still wavering from the high you were still processing. Red peaked up on your cheeks, but you could not keep the curve from you lip for long when knowing you had done that.

TAGLIST: @valentinawrites @draeluna @jeanily3000 @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @chibi-crazy @tanyam93 @patzammit

#red sea diving resort #chris evans smut #chris evans #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #marvel #theplumsoldier #inebriated #marvel smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers

350 notes · View notes

iwantthedean · 5 years

Text

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part One: McIntosh. Juicy, tangy, tart.

Summary: Y/N gets bad news about her beloved home. Jensen arrives in Boston following a potentially rash decision. Pairing: None ... yet. Word Count: 1507 Warnings: Drinking. Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: I’m so excited to be posting a series here again! In case you missed the announcement, this will fall in line with series I’ve written before like Hard to Find, or True Fluff. The taglist is open, so if you like what you read here, feel free to request to be added! HUGE THANKS to @atc74 and @d-s-winchester for not only encouraging me to come back and write when I was ready, but for hearing me out about this series. I love you both to pieces!

The nature of living with an apple orchard in your backyard was that the house always had a slight tinge of apple scent to it. When you pulled out the season’s first pan of apple cinnamon cookies from the oven, the scent only grew stronger. You smiled; this was the smell of your childhood. You and your grandmother had spent countless hours in this kitchen, preparing this very recipe -- one that had been handed down over four generations now.

You waited for the cookies to cool a bit before using a nylon spatula to slide them from the still-warm pan to the wire rack on the cream-colored, tile counter. Using an ice cream scoop to help you keep the portions fairly equal, you loaded the silicon mat on the cookie sheet and again slid the pan into the oven. You set the timer on the oven and washed the bits of cookie dough from your hands.

Outside the window over the kitchen sink, the leaves of the trees decorating the yard were turning the brilliant colors of Autumn: red and yellow and orange. There was even some brown, which didn’t put you off the way the drab color normally would have. Autumn had a late start this year, but here it was, right before your eyes.

“That bodes well for the Fall Festival,” you smiled to yourself, not caring that no one was around to listen. The festival was something you looked forward to every year since you were a kid; for you, it was right up there with decorating for Christmas.

You finished the cookies, loaded and started the dishwasher, then put the cookies in an airtight container -- but not before sneaking one for yourself.

“Just like Granny made.”

Satisfied with your baking endeavor, you left the cookies alone and went to freshen up for your meeting with the farm’s business manager. This was something you did monthly, to make certain everything was in order, and while you normally didn’t mind the business side of running the place, things hadn’t exactly been looking up lately.

Bartholomew Kemp was a good man. He had grown up with your father and knew your family well. After your grandparents died and your father moved to the Midwest where most of the extended family lived now, you stayed behind in Massachusetts to keep watch over the family farm.

It wasn’t much, really. Thirty-five acres of land, most of which were taken up with the orchard. The main house and the barn took up a couple of acres, and there was a small pumpkin patch that covered a few acres, too. There was a lot of upkeep required, but you loved every inch of the place, and the people who worked the land so that you could stay there and keep everything in your family’s name.

The pleasant thoughts of the place you called home faded away when you saw Bartholomew’s face. As soon as his eyes registered your presence, his expression read regret.

“It’s not good, Y/N,” Bartholomew sighed, handing over the latest financial reports. “Nothing has improved with the ripening of the apples and your sales. They’re not flying out of the market the same way they used to do. More people are buying organic from the store than chancing recalls by buying direct locally.”

You frowned as you looked over the numbers. “I don’t understand. I mean -- I understand these reports coming back from the market, but I don’t understand why I’m not getting more stock back, then. The market is constantly asking for more apples, and they’ve already cleared out of our pumpkins once … it doesn’t make sense.”

“I wish I had an explanation for you, but the numbers are all there. I’ve checked and double-checked them. Triple-checked.”

You drew in a deep breath, willing yourself to not have an emotional reaction until you were alone in your car, if not all the way home. You set your copies of the reports on the desk and looked at Bartholomew.

“So, what does this mean?”

The older man leaned forward on his desk. He looked around as if wishing someone would come in and interrupt. Finally, he looked you in the eye.

“You’re going to have to sell, Y/N.”

Tears stung your eyes, and professionalism went out the window. “Sell? No, Mr. Kemp, I can’t sell! That’s my home -- my family’s home. My dad retired and moved West and he left me the place. He trusted me!”

Bartholomew reached across the table to take your hand. He squeezed, an effort to reassure you. “And you’ve done a great job, dear, but it’s the times. It’s not you. Your father has no reason to be anything other than proud of you.”

“What about -- what about refinancing?”

You could see from his demeanor this wasn’t an easy conversation. “You could try, but -- you are an amazing teacher. The kids and parents alike love you. Your employees all love you. I don’t know if that’s something you can take to the bank against your salary, though.”

“The least I can do is try.”

Bartholomew nodded. He gave you a manila envelope to put all the reports in, and offered his assistance with your loan application should you need any. You thanked him again, then hightailed it out to your car. Before you had the key in the ignition, you lost control of your emotions. The tears flowed freely all the way back home.

* * * * *

While he waited to get off the plane in Boston, Jensen adjusted the ball cap he was sporting, then quietly undid his seatbelt. He didn’t want to catch any complaints from the flight attendants for unbuckling while the seatbelt light was still on, but having the thing secured was giving him some weird sort of anxiety.

The passengers were finally allowed to file into the airport. Jensen shouldered his carry-on and made way for the rental car counter. Once behind the wheel, the GPS told him it was an hour drive from Boston to Attleboro.

“An hour?” he groaned. “Nah. I’ll get a hotel and find the town tomorrow.”

Jensen’s first thought was to head to the Four Seasons, but he made a last-minute decision to book a room at the DoubleTree instead. It wasn’t about money, it was about simplicity. Wasn’t that the whole point of this trip? To simplify his life?

Once settled in his room, he ordered from a delivery service that would bring him both food and alcohol, turned on his favorite playlist, and stared out the window. Below him, cars raced past. People huddled in thick jackets against the chilly wind. Vancouver was probably colder now than Boston, but it was still about twenty degrees colder than Austin.

Jensen took a deep breath and turned away from the window. He pulled clean boxers from his bag and let out that breath as he headed for a hot shower. All he needed was a quick one before the delivery service showed up to get his head straight.

“A quick, hot shower,” he muttered, turning his face away from the initial cold spray of water, “and to find a place to be.”

After fifteen years on the same show with not much to vary his days, Supernatural had ended. He didn’t regret a minute of being on the show, being around the fans, or the family that had formed during his years as Dean Winchester. Now, though, he was restless. Summer was fine; those weeks felt like hiatus. Then August came and, of course, filming still had not resumed, and the restlessness had set in.

No scripts came through that caught his interest. The Austin nightlife wasn’t really keeping his attention, but there didn’t seem to be a point in going back to Vancouver. So, he started looking for other options. How this orchard had even come across his screen, Jensen couldn’t remember. He only knew that once the seed was planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So now Jensen was laying on a hotel bed in Boston, watching sports highlights on television and knocking back whiskey on the rocks. Tomorrow, when he woke up, maybe he wouldn’t even be interested in the orchard anymore -- he’d just take a plane back to Texas and be back at square one.

“Put the lid on the whiskey bottle, Ackles. Call it a night.”

Taking his own advice, he knocked back what was left in his glass, put the bottle across the room for now, and turned off the lights. He set the sleep timer on the TV and drifted off to a restless sleep.

When Jensen woke up the next morning, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Seeing and potentially buying the orchard seemed less like an irrational choice and more of the quiet, new adventure he was seeking. There were new possibilities here, he could feel it in his bones -- and he couldn’t get on the road fast enough to find out just what those possibilities were.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967

180 notes · View notes

aliloverthetop · 5 years

Text

don’t trust wikipedia

Pairings: Pining Logicality, based on a post by @sympathetic-deceit-trash, sorry it’s late

Summary: Logan doesn't know why his face burns up like a falling meteor or his heart seems to skip a beat. He doesn't even know why his hands shake and get sweaty. He was supposed to be the one who knows everything, but he doesn't know how this works, what this was. Why every single thought or thing always lead to Patton at the end. When everything gets too confusing, he searches the place he didn't even think he would search: Wikipedia. (OR Logan and Patton are the oblivious people to ever live.)

Normally, at 3 a.m., the devil's hour. He would be drawing up scheduling plans for the next day for Thomas. He would be through his third cup of coffee and sixth piece of Crofters and toast. He never really did do things for himself at that hour, like sleep or watch Sherlock again. It was always about Thomas. Tonight was one of those nights where he has time for himself and research that he deemed absolutely important.

There were strange things happening to him. All of which didn't make sense. His face burned up like a falling meteor and his heart seems to skip a beat. He found himself smiling more, complimenting more. He didn't know anything. Logan didn't know why he ran into the fridge when being addressed as "honey" nor did he know why he could feel his hands shake just the slightest when he can feel a pair of eyes blink at him as the owner of these eyes steadied the seat Logan was standing on. He doesn't know why his hand dropped the stupid coffee cup when he felt lips pressing against his cheek. But all of those things lead to one person: Patton.

It was obvious that Patton had triggered some sort of disease when he stared at him. Logan was pretty much sure it was a virus. One that causes him to be a mess of long limbs, red rashes on the face and heart palpitations. His head spins thinking about it. As he was sweeping the ceramic off the floor, he told himself to go and research. Because that's what good scientists do.

So here he was.

Logan breathed out. He honestly didn't trust Wikipedia. He was a teacher. Teachers were pretty much born with the need to hate against Wikipedia. However, the last time he checked WebMD and told it that he had a large headache, it diagnosed him with brain cancer. (He later found out that Roman had thrown a printer at him during that really awkward game of Twister to help Patton win, or maybe it was so he and Virgil could have a bit of banter about keys and mispronunciation? He didn’t know. How he didn't notice? He didn't know.) But he found himself typing his symptoms in any way.

And nothing showed up.

He frowned, eyebrows meeting together. Oh. He tried being more thorough, be he found blank spaces instead. So he was the first to have this disease? Logan huffed out breath after breath. What the hell did this mean? God, if he's the first person to have this disease then there will be no cure known to man... well, fuck. Isn't that inconvenient? He was going to need to start making a cure tomorrow, well, he could start today... no. Patton and the others would nag at him to sleep. Worse, Remy may slide through the walls like a white blood cell could pat him on the head and Logan would break another pair of glasses from slamming his head down on the desk. But no, Remy could go and take a morning off. Meaning...

Logan’s going to get another set of eye-bags.

By the end of the night morning, he decided to name this disease. He was the one who discovered the disease and he was damn sure that he could name it. So he did. Cardio Rush Disease. The abbreviation for it, for whoever is too lazy to pronounce six damn syllables was Crush Disease.

Good findings for the ni-

Logan woke up with a bruise on his forehead, a long page of random numbers on his computer, and yet another, broken pair of glasses.

Great. Lovely, there were tons of synonyms in his head that could’ve made a ‘Virgilesque’ sarcastic comment.

Logan went downstairs without any glasses, stomach already aggressively asking Logan for nourishment. (Stomaches couldn’t talk, of course. This was a form of pathetic fallacy to show how-) Smack! Who put the wall here?

Virgil snorted as he propped his feet up on the breakfast bar while he cradled a ball of hair in his hands, "Where did your glasses go, Lo? You trade them in for those eyebags?" He pushed a tray towards his direction. He eyed the tray, noticing there was a warm mug of black coffee on it and a stack of fluffy pancakes with a berry-red colour. Logan noticed the butter slice in the shape of a heart on top of the pancakes despite his lack of glasses.

He gently pushed Virgil’s legs off the bar and looked at the food, “Oh, thank you for the breakfast. I’m sure it will be nutritionally nourishing.” He watched as Virgil snorted and placed his legs on the empty stool next to him.

“I didn’t make it. Patton did. Thank him later will you? Patton spent all night trying to figure out how to make those pancakes, Remy had to walk in and drag him to bed.” Virgil replied, opening his palm to reveal the ball of hair- oh wait... that’s a tarantula.

Logan eyed the pancakes, suddenly filled with a very warm sensation that warmed his cheeks. Oh, there’s the disease taking place again. He took the cutlery on the side and cut into the pancakes, letting loose steam. He took a bite and his eyes lit up in surprise when he tasted Crofters in the pancakes. Oh, dear Einstein, this was...

Logan ate all of them and drained the coffee mug. He felt this weird, warm fuzzy, feeling inside... that he couldn’t exactly place. His mind shot to the possibility of the Cardio Rush Disease taking place. Which led him to yell, “AH!” The anxious Side then fell off the stool out of shock from Logan’s sudden exclamation.

“What the actual fuck?” Virgil hissed as he got up, his back sore from hitting the ground. “What was the yelling for?”

“I was just thinking about the connections between a disease I discovered last night and the symptoms I’m experiencing at this moment,” Logan said as he put the dishes in the sink. Virgil raised a squiggly shape on his face, which after lots of squinting, Logan found to be his eyebrow and urging him to continue his explanation. The logical side launched into the whole story, Virgil petting the tarantula’s back as Logan started to explain the cause and the symptoms.

“-the symptoms usually include the change of the beating of the heart, a heartbeat may be skipped. Then there’s this strange feeling like you have been gently-” Logan checked his flashcards, “-yeeted into a bathtub after a cold day. Another one is getting strangely embarrassed at normal things like nicknames such as ‘honey’, ‘lovely’, and more... shaking of limbs, red and quite warm rash on the cheeks and ears that fade away... To add on there’s an uneasy feeling that settles in your stomach. And... a strange want to keep having this though I feel utterly stupid having it. All of this has happened while I was talking about, conversing with, looking at, and interacting with Patton. Which leads me to believe that Cardio Rush Disease stems from Patton and he has somehow infected me with it. It’s new, and it seems like no one has listed this disease down in WebMD so I think I may be dying-”

Virgil burst out in a fit of laughter, Logan blinked as the little tarantula joined in with small squeaky laughs and the other Side yet again fell on the floor. “Are you alright?” He asked as the laughing subsided.

“Oh you have no idea, don’t you? You guys are the most oblivious pair to have ever lived...” He said, smiling. “I think I’ll let you figure out the ‘Crush Disease’.. and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna get another round of symptoms soon.

“What do you me-”

“Hello, ladies, lords, and non-binary royalty! Welcome our lovely Lord of Puppy-Sugarland, Patton!” Roman yelled, prancing in the room.

Patton walked in with a pastel pink skirt and a lovely pastel blue shirt to match, a ribbon around his collar.

Logan would later add nose-bleed and fainting to the symptom list.

a/n: another story out of the drafts! sorry this is so late and if the characterisation was shit. I really hope you like it and possibly comment on it or reblog with a comment! have a good time kiddo! -heath

#logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan does not know what he is doing #logicality #patton in a skirt #logan put on a skirt pls #remy sanders #sanders sides fanfic #whoop whoop #logan is oblivious #logan? emotions? oof.#big uwu energy #oh everyone is panicking after logan faints

69 notes · View notes

365elephantsoap · 4 years

Text

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I came home to a giant stack of mail and a house that needs to be cleaned. Christmas cards need to be addressed and sent out. There are a few gifts that need to go into the mail. I have one actual present to buy and candy to go in stockings. There are also a bunch of presents that need to be wrapped. We forgot about our advent calendar and are seven days behind. I have two pairs of clean underwear left in the drawer and the inside of our refrigerator looks like it was raided by apocalyptic marauders. I have a lot of things to do at home and at work. If anything, recovery from DC should be at the top of my to-do list. This DC trip sort of wrecked havoc on my body.

There were many late nights followed with really early mornings. There was a time change and it seemed that most mornings I was waking up at 4:30 AM their time which is 3:30 AM my time. The last night there, I went to bed around 1:00 AM and then woke up at 4:30 in the morning. And I was AWAKE. I could not go back to sleep, so I just watched bad TV until the sun came up. Then there’s this weird rash that kind of looks like poison ivy that just showed up on my back. It itches like crazy. I don’t know if this is also part of that rash, but random bumps that resemble bug bites have started to show up on my legs and arms. The other night, I put lotion on my hands before crawling into bed. My hands were so dry and cracked that they started to itch and burn from the lotion. This plus the rash and bug-like bumps made my whole body itchy. Micheal came in to say goodnight and I was laying in bed, clawing at my skin like a meth head.

Side note: It was just like that time my mom gave me a prescription pain med when I had my wisdom teeth removed. She came in the middle of the night to check on me and I was writhing and scratching. I wildly yelled at her “MY SKIN IS CRAWLING!” and Mom said “Oh no” and then threw out the rest of that pain medication.

When I’m not scratching my skin off, I’m losing things. My car wouldn’t start when I got home Tuesday night and security had to come jump start my car. I finally made it home, started taking off all of my jewelry and realized that one of my silver rings from Tiffany’s was missing. Actually, it was the first ring Michael ever bought me and I got real panicky. I searched pockets and mittens and had decided that it had just fallen off of my finger somewhere. I felt a little sick to my stomach over the loss and I was pretty convinced it was gone forever. Then I opened my suitcase and started to unpack and I found my ring under my toiletry bag. Wednesday morning, I left the house for work and somewhere between locking the front door and getting into my car, I lost a t-shirt I had nabbed for a co-worker from a company booth. I later found that t-shirt in the back seat of my car.

So here’s what I am thankful for this week. I am thankful for finding the things I thought I had lost. This includes people I hadn’t seen in over twenty years.

Next week will be easier.

#sleep #itchy #lost #found

1 note · View note

etirabys · 5 years

Text

Found some journaling I did in May 2017, the day most of my college friends graduated (leaving me to slog on alone for another two quarters) and I left campus to check into the hotel I’d be staying in during my last internship orientation

I have the rash of sentimentality after all. Today I woke up and left dufr's room after sleeping over for the last time – most of my conscious mind occupied with things like 'how do I squash volume=N stuff into volume=M (<N) luggage space, what do I throw out, decide now*', 'how fast do I need to get my meds from the pharmacy to make this train', 'need to phone hotel to see how early one can check in', etc. And all throughout, this weird clenched chest feeling. I went to sleep late last night talking inanely at matthew, not having anything to say really but not wanting to say goodbye – he's moving to the Midwest, I don't know when I'll see him again. At one point I was holding him up with statements like “TLP. Those are the consonants in the word tilapia...” (M: 'Mhm.') 'Tulip.' (M: 'Mhm.') 'Tulpa.' (M: cracks a smile.) We went to bed past 3am. I love him and will miss him.

* Why was this necessary when I’d packed perfectly for two hands and human shoulders? Around midnight last night friend yu, in the throes of graduation, messaged me that he still had a suitcase of mine from last November that I'd left with him when taking leave of absence. I'd forgotten about it. He'd forgotten about it. That was how I said my goodbyes to friend yu, who was half naked and bustling around in an apocalyptically disorganized room, getting ready for commencement. 'What the fuck is in this?', I’d been wondering about the suitcase since finding out about it. Found a coat I'd just assumed had disappeared, an interview suit, and two femme bags my mom got me that I never used.

Anyway. Weird chest feeling. I left dufr's room – my ex's room – this morning, for the last time after sleeping over in college. The mind goes, 'wait! You're doing this for the last time!' and one looks around at the room, feeling a little lost and confused, bewildered precisely by the lack of felt significance – yes, this is a room that has endured a parade of undergraduates of varying character and talent, it is messy because a messy person is messily moving out, there's little to notice here. It is time to leave. This is the room of a person I will not see again for a long time. This is the room of a person with whom I had a friendship that is almost over. After this there will be points where we speak and meet, but the jug has been drained, and what's left will drip sparsely in the following years. The idea of this was huge and painful, but the empty room was too insignificant and too poor in memory to contain it.

#rambl #i guess in a way this is #reblog2017

50 notes · View notes

addytheheartbreaker · 5 years

Text

Blind Memory

Chapter 4: One step at the time

Joen look at the girl he only just saw right where the guards took her pass his cell door with a single glance to the window. The girl just stayed there frozen with no movement as the rabbit man step one foot at the stairs causing the girl to back away while he reach out for her trying not to scare her.

Joen: h-hey there little girl. Don't be afraid...

He take another step of the stairs. It failed as the girl ran away at the other side of the stage stairs with Joen panic and followed her wanting to say sorry for a sudden wrong approach. And when he went down to the opposite stage stairs, he saw the girl no where to be seen. He looks confused, where is she?

He started searching around the place again by going at the big building behind the stage where it might be the girl went. Going around every classroom at the time to the next then going up to the next floor till he reach the fourth floor of the building. It is a small corridor when he check here, looking on both paths to where she might be choosing the right path first because it is the closes path with only two rooms only. The first room he check there he had found her, sitting at a brown armchair doing nothing but looking away at the open metal bars with the rabbit man outside the corridor. He reach at the bars calling her.

Joen: h-hey, please can you at least tel-

???: WHITE!!!

A scream could be heard right trough his ears, opening his eyes and his eardrums stinging in pain to turn on his direction to meet his younger brother.

Jacob: White! Its time to wake up!

He groan in pain the same groaning pain he had always do every morning. Damnit that dream! Who is this girl in this dream anyway? He knew that girl is the same girl he had meet yesterday but how the fuck did he met her in his dreams that didn't seems like this isn't his dream? The brown rabbit look directly to his older brother whose been staring at the ceiling like he is hallucinating as his oldest brother.

Jacob: uh.... White?

Joen sits up from his bed and rubbing his face before getting off from the bed. The brown rabbit hold his shoulder quickly if he tried to ignore him.

Jacob: White, buddy what's wrong?

Joen: .....

He didn't answered. His mind played the part he last seen the girl at the classroom before his brother woke him up. Halios came in after his quick shower seening his two brothers.

Halios: hey you two, what's going on here?

Jacob: White isn't answering after I woke him.

Helios: really? *look at Joen* hey White? Are you alright?

The Rabbit look up from his two brothers and shake his head trying to ignore the dream he had. He couldn't just ignored his brothers concerning questions with no answers.

Joen: I'm fine guys, its just.... The dream is kinda weird....

Helios gave an eyebrow rise up in curiosity, letting his brother go as he walk out at the open door for a calm shower. Nothing but cold water on his skin to shiver off the sleepy looks on the inmates faces. He wash off his head with water to removed the shampoo and cleaning his sweaty face in just a minute till it reach 7am, same canteen routine as always and same hour of daily treatment. Nothing change about the asylum expect he still remembers the dream, his psychiatrists isn't here today and he is lucky to do what he wants with this day, going at the lobby where he saw his brown rabbit brother bouncing at the television and what it looks like he wanted to destroyed the TV for some reason. Joen was about to calm Jacob down yet it is too late as guards came in and dragged him off the television with the struggling brown rabbit trying to escaped from the guards grasp and the white rabbit watching him with nothing to help him out or else he will also put him to the Box. He had enough of staying at the Box since 4 days ago and he felt guilty for not helping him because he doesn't want to went in to the same hour of isolation torture again, this isn't good....

Joen sigh in disappointment helplessly and sitting at the chair where his his brother first sit at earlier before he saw him. The chair was comfy enough for him to lay down to sleep, of course he ignored the rules about no sleeping and yet the white rabbit is so sleepy he wanted to just take a nap for at least once. He lay on the chair and yawn out loudly as he close his eyes for a nap. While napping, he open his eyes seeing he is now in that same dream again but this time he is inside the classroom where he stops by and reach out at the girl that he is supposed to approach her nicely. He look around the classroom then saw the door is now open just for him to get out of the room he first woke up at, he didn't see the girl inside the room like he last seen her. Welp, time to search around then.

He went out of the corridor watching the trees and the wind dancing calmly and the sky in just pure blue color, oh how he missed seeing the outside skies when he is just free. Looking down at the stage where he could barely seen, the girl was now. there sitting alone at the middle of the stage with paper scattered around her. He smiles watching the girl in what she might doing was kinda like she is drawing at those papers, he teleported down to the school ground behind the stage then slowly walk at the stage stairs with no sound to prevent her from fleeing away again. He doesn't want to scare her off again like last time, but this girl is here in this dream with him. The wind blew one of her papers which she found out it landed at the hands of the rabbit man himself. Joen caught the paper and examine the drawing paper that went onto him, two figures together; one was a tall, doctor like man in a black horse mask and a small female child with a golden four petal mask wearing a purple nurse uniform. While examine, he was impressed by her drawing then turn his head up to the girl with her face looks unsure and scared, he doesn't mean to scare her that quickly and he again tried to approach her slowly and reach out to gave her the paper. With no hesitation from the girl, she crawl slowly then reach out to get her drawing back as he smiles a little not gonna revealed his sharp teeth while silently come very close to her.

Guard: No sleeping at the lobby!

Joen woke up in surprised at the loud echoing scream coming from the guard. He was so close now! He sigh and gets off from the chair then out of the lobby.

*4 days later*

His attempt to approach from her was always failed and so close to get her every single time everyone woke him up to blew up the plan. He now plans to give up from trying to reach the girl and do what he could do with himself instead of chasing after her at the dream when he finally hop down to bed. He did the same "goodnight" to his brothers and swallow his sleeping pills till he is knock out cold. Opening his eyes he is now at the same dream again, he ignored encountering the girl and found himself an open space at the building where the back stage is, the space is big enough to practice dancing instead of a noisy and judgemental inmates at the music room. Maybe this dream will be perfect to do practicing even though he is just dancing around on a dream instead of reality, it might be embarrassing if when he woke up hitting at the floor knowing he is just rolled around his bed like that yet this place is so peaceful just enough to search up on his head to play music on his mind. His favorite song is a boy band pop song that he grew up fondly along with his brothers, he started dancing with his eyes closed, hearing his heart beats at the beat of the song on his head using his old dance moves he had practice a long time ago.

Unaware, the girl secretly watches him dance alone at the open space at the corner, she was amzaed and so onto his fast movements on his feet with a small chuckles quietly not to bother his dancing. He open his eyes, smiling happily of dance then quickly saw her watching him dancing around like a fool out of him which he stops his tracks, the girl flinch seeing him noticing her spying at him as she hides herself from him. The rabbit man look pleased seeing her approaching to him and went to her direction where she hides away from him, he did what he must do and tried to calm her down.

Joen: hey...

The girl look slowly at him but not completely because she is always looking at the ground shyly. He took note that she is very shy and took his hand in front of her but inches away from each other.

Joen: its okey little girl, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just come closer so I could see you, alright?

He waited...

The girl look up to him with her eyes being wrap around by bandages and hesitantly walk toward him. No one is gonna wake him up to blew up the plan that he was so close to succeeded. She hesitates to come any closer to his hands and she shyly raise her left hand and gave him a handshake, her hand when he held her was light, very light from someone who is as shy and gentle as herself. He smiles, he had finally got her attention from him for the first time and while he was handshaking, he notice her left hand has a small crack with red faded tips, he squeezed her hand and turn her wrist of the small crack just for him to examine the small broken left wrist, the skin was porcelain like some sort of object or a toy he could describe it when holding a toy since he was just a bunny.

Joen: where did you get this from?

He asked her, she didn't look scared of him but the look on her face was nothing.... But a blank look. Not a single emotion on her lips or anything, it is hard to look at when her eyes are still covered up by the bandages. Yet he doesn't want to rush things up to her, he will take this slowly to getting to know her. However, he didn't notice he heard her voice speaking to him back.

Young Addy: I-it wasn't really a sick rash, i-it is just a birthmark. I-i got this from my dad.

This is the first time he could hear her voice or is it just his dream was. Her voice was soft and shy like she never talk to people often, fitting for her personality (almost). He tilted his head and let go of her hand.

Joen: ah, I see then. A birthmark huh? I thought it was an infection or something.

Addy: i-i guess so.... Y-your the guy who I saw you before, r-right?

The rabbit man remembered the time he saw her passing his cell, so it is her.

Joen: so your the new patient of the asylum?

The mysterious girl nodded shyly. She walk at the opposite direction to return to the stage but turn back asking to followed her behind which he had gladly followed her. At the stage where her papers are now piled up clean with a rock to prevent it from scattering away from the wind, a pencilcase beside the paper, two armchairs just for him and herself and a small, silver tuning fork at the arm table. While he glance at the girl who is now sitting at the chair, holding the tuning fork and do a hard smack at the fork to vibrate till she put it closely to her ears to listen the vibrating sound, he sat at the other chair to asked her.

Joen: um... Little girl? I was wondering why you are here? This is a dream right? I don't think this is actually mine though.

The girl look at him.

Addy: a-actually, this is my dream mister.

Joen: what? Your dream?

Addy: Mhmm, y-you are in my school w-where I was studied with many good yet a-a lots of horrible things in here.

Joen: then why am I here?

Addy: I-i don't know? I-i don't know w-why you are here at my dream. M-maybe you might have some c-connection between of us then?

Joen: I don't think so. I only saw you passing by my cell door with those guards around you.

Addy: ..... T-those guards... Caught me....

Joen twitch a little while listening to her.

Joen: caught?

Addy: I-i didn't even know what to do? T-those people just.... M-messed me up.

Joen: what happen?

Addy: I... I-i don't wanna talk about it.

Joen: *his thoughts* I think she explains to me how she caught up and put her in the asylum.

Joen: anyway, I haven't even get your name yet. Do you?

Addy: *shake her head no*

Joen: alright then, I am the White Rabbit, but just call me Rabbit only alright? Now what's your name?

Addy: .... Uhh....

She went silent.... He twitch curiously at her and waited at her responds as she spoke.

Addy: I can't tell you my name because I'm a part of a groups rule actually... But I like being called an angel or a demon. Or maybe both! I'm a doll girl you see.

An angel or a demon? Or both? Then she must be a hybrid then? He note that out the last part. A doll girl.

Joen: then I should call you Doll then. You look pretty as a doll.

She smiles and nodded at him and agreed to call her Doll. Unfortunately she did have a name, the young Addy is not allowed to tell him her name is because she is still following the rule about not let anyone know her identity unless the person is very close and well kept a secret of the mysterious group. She just only met him when he appeared at her dream, her master once told her if that person came to her will be someone will one day remembered even she is just a very young teen. Addy grab her papers and pencilcase to continue drawing, with Joen watching her, she didn't mind him watching how she draw and she sometimes hide the faces with her hand and pencilcase it because it is not finish yet or she is just too shy to show it. Joen watch her draw 2 figures; one figures was a short male teen with light blond short hair with light blue tips at the left frony, his mask was a heart shape while the other was a male teen abit taller then the other, light blond spiky hair with red tips at the right front like the other male and a cool visor glasses and a wide smile. It looks childish yet wonderful, she might be an artist he thought.

He woke up in surprised. He sit up and look to see 2 of his brothers waking up. The black rabbit saw him first and said.

Leon: *yawn* morning White.

Joen: m-morning Black....

Jason: *groan then look at him* you wake up so early. Why did you wake up so early when you complaining so much about it?

Joen didn't even know how did he not complaining about the morning routine that everyday one of his brothers will shout at his ears to bleed out and lazily go to the bathroom to start the day. The white rabbit scratch his head and nudge a little as a sign that he doesn't know why before getting off of the bathroom where the metal door is now open. The two rabbit brothers look at each other calculating of what happen till the brown rabbit woke up.

After taking a bath and eating breakfast with his brothers, he still remembers that same dream of the Doll with him and talking to him. Finally! Getting his first impression of knowing her name but not the actual name yet he could do it slowly and surely by getting to know her and talk to her as much as he could because this is very new to him. However, this will be the first time in the past 9 years that he had finally found someone to talk with when he was bored and a playmate where he could play with her at the dream freely.

He can't wait to meet her again.

To be continued.....

#blind memory story #blind memory #the mask au #mask au #masked au #the masked singer human au

3 notes · View notes