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kithtaehyung · 3 years

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Last November (M)

title: last november (m) post date: december 14th, 2020, 8pm est ⤷ revamped/extended: march 27th, 2021, 10pm est pairing: seokjin x reader(f) genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers au summary: you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place? warnings: angst, bad puns and jokes, mutual pining, light dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m/f receiving), nipple play, hair-pulling, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), dirty talk, spanking, creampie, seokjin is a consent king, did i say angst?, did i also say bad puns and jokes? mobile users: alt link if this doesn’t open in tumblr ➛ AO3 word count: 23.7k 24.7k !!

On the last Friday of every November, your group of friends piled into two cars and set off into the mountains.

Ever since you all graduated from high school years ago, everyone branched off into their individual, intricate walks of life. Different towns, different jobs, different social circles.

But before those grand adventures started, each of you promised one thing: a yearly trip to keep the friendship alive.

This time around, you happened to be in the “decidedly more fun” car as Jimin, Taehyung, and your longtime friend Rin jammed the backseat with singing and road trip games. Since Seokjin took driver, you claimed navigator, leaving the front of the vehicle a bit muted compared to the other half. Which was fine - you always loved relaxing on the sidelines while your friends played with chaos and hilarity.

Namjoon kept you company from time to time, too, so you weren’t completely alone in your preferred space.

The only thing that could’ve made the ride awkward was if you and Seokjin were on bad terms.

It wasn’t every day you found yourself sitting beside your ex, after all.

But that simple fact didn’t phase you. The truth was that your breakup was clean and painless - a massive relief to your friends. Back then, it would have torn everyone to pieces picking sides.

The split was so organic that you couldn’t recall an awful reason why it happened. Separation proved as natural as the changing of seasons: you had moved away for university and he powered through his own medical pursuits. Over time, the relationship simmered to a text every few days, resulting in the night in which you decided that it was better to remain friends.

What sucked was the fact that, over the course of time after the breakup, you fell for Seokjin. Annoying, charming, incredible Seokjin.

You didn’t come to terms with it until last November, when you watched his eyes sparkle under an indigo ocean of stars and it just clicked. Agony carved into your heart some nights when you thought about nothing else, but you couldn’t admit your feelings. Not when you two decided that your river had run its course. You couldn’t risk smothering the last embers of your relationship, so radio silence remained your lonely swan song.

Of course you wanted to admit it. You wanted to tell him. Because no matter who came after, they all fell short. Every smile flashed your way, every pair of arms wrapped around your torso, every night spent between the sheets. Nothing compared to what you got from Jin. That man created a hole in your heart that lingered in his wake, a hole through which all of your subsequent relationships plummeted.

The truth was simple: you didn’t want to ruin what you had. Even if what you two would always be was just friends, that endgame was enough for you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Every night when you couldn’t sleep, and every morning when you woke up to an empty bed.

Your vision snapped into focus as your phone screen bloomed. The maps app signaled for a turn, so you relayed the direction to Seokjin, who repeated the direction out loud before following through.

Just like always.

The road in front of you melted into a different scene entirely as you recalled why he started that habit. It sprouted from one of your car rides to a diner situated on the other side of your hometown.

During the drive, you did your best as navigator, but your boyfriend was so into the music playing that he missed some turns. One errant right later had you both terribly lost, the surrounding area swallowing the car in darkness. On instinct, you dove into defense mode, trying and failing not to outright panic.

“My maps won’t load,” you stuttered, hitting the screen with your finger, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Don’t worry, I can just—”

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” you bit out. “Let’s just get out of here.” You hated how pure paranoia pricked at the corners of your eyes. Getting lost was completely irksome and going back home was more appealing to you than moving forward with the date.

“Okay. I won’t,” Seokjin assured you, turning the wheel and rolling the car out from the shadowy street. “How can I help instead?”

“Oh, umm.” With grateful eyes, you stared at your boyfriend and admired his consideration. You’ve never been asked that while upset before. “You could, uh, repeat the directions before following them? That might help.”

His lips curved into a smile, and streetlights flooded the car to bathe his sincerity in a warm glow. “Repeat directions, you got it.”

The memory faded as you blinked and observed the endless mountain range enveloping the road. Snow topped the summits in white caps; coniferous trees swallowed the steep slopes. As if reminiscence clogged your ears, the music in the car seemed louder outside your broken reverie.

Taehyung, as always, took charge of the aux. He usually had an eclectic mix of tunes on rotation but, that time, nothing but upbeat Christmas music was queued. You had to admit: merry music coating the car windows and mountainous scenery claiming your entire vision put you in the best mood.

It was even better when Seokjin sang along. You really did like his singing voice.

“I like my singing voice, too.”

Your eyes snapped toward the driver, expression freezing over as you drank in his delight. Did you really say that out loud? You knew Seokjin enough to know that he was never going to let that go.

“Yeah, well…” You lazily swatted his grin away. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Seokjin chuckled, his hands comfortably resting on the wheel. “Are you offering to do that for me? It’s minimum wage, but I’d hire you.”

Rolling your eyes felt like the only appropriate response, so you did exactly that, your exasperated gaze looping around to land on your phone. “Relish this moment, Seokjin,” you advised, zooming out in the maps app to make sure you were still heading in the right direction, “Because it won’t happen again. And take the next exit. We’re almost there.”

“Yes, yes, next exit.” You missed the smirk on his face as he scanned the roadside for the telltale sign. “Moment relished,” he quipped, “But I prefer my moments with ketchup and mustard.”

Your groan drowned in his boisterous laughter, but the hand on your face betrayed you since it couldn’t quite cover up the glee that formed right after.

An hour later, everyone had unloaded the vehicles at the campgrounds and pitched the tents. While Hoseok and Jungkook worked on starting the fire pit, Namjoon and Jimin took their time organizing the food and snacks. Rin had disappeared with Taehyung somewhere, but Yoongi said he spotted them taking pictures a ways off.

“They should be helping,” he muttered. “There’s a lot to do before it gets dark out.”

Squatting down to rotate sizzling meat on your portable grill, you waved him off. “They’re shot-swapping since it’s golden hour.”

The silence that followed gave you pause. When you looked up in curiosity, Seokjin and Yoongi regarded you like a foreign language coated your tongue, their struggle to decipher it earning a chuckle of pity.

“They’re both huge influencers, so they know how to take pictures. They always do this when we get together,” you explained, spinning the kebab onto another side, “And golden hour is around sunrise and sunset. It looks like everything is soaked in gold, and it makes your pictures look pretty. But that’s an old term already! You geezers should keep up.”

Yoongi simply raised an eyebrow and kneeled to turn his designated stick. Smoke from the charred meat wafted into your noses as he declined, “I’ll pass. That sounds stressful.”

A rapid clapping of tongs next to your ear preceded Seokjin’s offer, “What are we waiting for? Let’s golden hour swap!”

Why did he have to be so endearing? A cough escaped your throat, disjointed laughs following right after in their awkward escape. Beside you, Yoongi flung condescension Jin’s way, his voice stocked with disappointment as he warned, “Don’t speak. You age yourself.”

You transferred your kebabs to a foiled plate before standing, blood rushing to your lower legs. Seokjin was unleashing a hearty tirade at the other man grilling when you intervened, “That sounds nice, actually. I’m in a photography class so I was planning on taking some photos anyways. Lemme just get my camera.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t escape the abrupt change in atmosphere hovering over the grills, its looming tension caressing the back of your coat in a slight push. The words exchanged were soft in volume, but their possible meanings stayed clanging in your ears.

“Did you tell her yet?”

“No.”

“Do it. She deserves to know.”

You slipped out of your tent with a heavy jacket and lightheadedness. Medicine would’ve helped with the latter, but the med kit Seokjin packed remained strictly for emergencies. Besides, you couldn’t quite slap a bandage on what was truly bothering you anyways.

As you inspected your class-registered Polaroid, you continued to wonder what Yoongi meant earlier.

What was he implying? You deserved to know what? You couldn’t say the feeling swirling around your gut was a positive one. After all, there was a distinct difference in what a person should know, and what a person deserved to know. What was so important that Yoongi practically ordered Seokjin to spill?

Was there another person in his life now? That was one thing that crossed your mind, but you filed that under the “should know” category, even though it twisted your stomach to think about.

The news had to be something urgent.

Was Seokjin getting married?

Without your permission, vessels in your heart shriveled, squeezing life from your already battered soul. A betrothal was entirely possible with his pursuit of a medical degree and coming from a well-to-do family. Maybe he was in an arrangement?

That possibility dropped an anvil on your chest. You couldn’t say that you were completely fine were that the truth. How could you be fine with something like that if you loved him? Of course, you would be happy if he was, but your heart would require recuperation for an extended amount of time. Give or take a few years.

You wandered so far into the depths of your mind that Seokjin’s sudden appearance kicked you back to shore, a yelp leaving your mouth at the same time your Polaroid left your hands. If the camera wasn’t hanging from your neck, you would’ve been in deep shit with your professor as soon as it hit the cold soil.

Its bulky frame definitely bruised your lower chest on the downswing, though. “Ow. Geez, Jinnie, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

Your eyes widened in realization. Jinnie? Shit, you hadn’t called him that since you guys were dating. Quite obviously, the stockpile of thoughts and worries involving his secret were blocking your brain from better judgment.

And apparently you weren’t the only one affected by that nickname because Seokjin’s eyebrows shot into his dark locks, his peculiar glance shifting away. Odd.

After an awkward second, he cleared his throat. “Does it hurt?”

Is it supposed to? You knew he was inquiring about your injury but your thoughts drifted to what hadn’t been divulged yet. “No, it’s fine,” you lied. “Let’s pick a spot before we lose the light.”

You don’t remember how long you walked, but the pair of you ended up far from the original campsite.

In your defense, it wasn’t like you planned that outcome. The trees matched at every turn, so you kept wandering until you found a good clearing - or at least some rocks to break the forested monotony.

A foil to your pickiness, Seokjin voiced his thoughts every ten paces, his votes of confidence constantly crushed by your boots. If you had a cent for every time he declared a spot “the one,” you could actually afford the Polaroid dangling from your neck.

It was at a calm clearing with some patches from last snowfall where you decided to settle.

Unhooking the strap from your neck, you ushered, “Let’s do this quick. It’s almost over.”

“I wanna do it first!” You thought Seokjin meant to take the camera from you, but instead he scuttled into the clearing, striking a pose once he reached its center. Of course the fool meant that he wanted his pictures taken and not the other way around. How was any other idea plausible? “Hurry up, you said!”

“The ‘S’ in Seokjin stands for ‘Selfish,’” you yelled, positioning the Polaroid against your eye regardless. His face enlarged in the lens and, to his credit, you couldn’t argue that he was the clear model between you two. The man could pursue a career in fashion instead of medicine and you wouldn’t bat an eye.

He looked handsome merely standing there, cheeks dimpling at nothing in particular and his charm ever effortless. Even the slight bags under his eyes didn’t take away from his natural beauty.

Par for the course with Seokjin. That unbothered self-assurance was one of the traits you liked and hated about him.

At least, initially. The more you got to know him, your outlook on that defining characteristic was one of admiration, not hatred. You simply needed to start shoving some of that confidence down your own throat like a different type of vitamin C.

After a telltale camera snap, the man threw out his coated arms in another pose. “And the ‘Seok’ stands for ‘Seok in my presence!’”

“I think I’ve been in it long enough. My fingers are pruny,” you droned while lowering your Polaroid, ignoring his wiggling in the background. It seemed you were still accustomed to his ridiculousness.

Yet another thing you gave him credit for: he was never afraid to be a dork. When you first met him, you admittedly thought he was faking it. Over time, you recognized his authenticity, and you grew fond of everything wrapped in the gift that was Kim Seokjin.

You waited for the picture to materialize in your hand. When your impatient model approached you and asked why you weren’t shaking the polaroid, you informed him that you should, in fact, not do that. “It’ll damage the final product!”

“So that song is…”

“Wrong. Yes.”

Pure shock flashed across his face. “What other lies have I been told?”

The captured memory started blossoming, and you watched as the color bled into life. “That you aren’t the funniest person on the planet,” you answered, earning a scoff.

“In that case, you’ve just been misinformed.” Seokjin huffed before offering an outstretched palm. “Now hand over the camera, it’s your turn.”

“Me?” You didn’t think he was serious when he said swap. In reality, you just assumed he whipped up an excuse for you to take pictures of him.

And you didn’t mind. It was nice to have that charming smile directed at you, even if only through the lens of a camera. The Polaroid would be your shield, blocking Seokjin from the pain swimming in your eyes, barely afloat in pools of regret and guilt and loneliness.

“Yes, woman! When was the last time you had your picture taken?”

Slowly, embarrassment swelled across your cheeks when you realized it had been a very long time. Legitimately long. You never asked others to take your picture; rather, you were always the one behind the lens. The last time someone actually offered was…

“When you took one,” you stuttered out breathily, “At that park.”

It was during one of the last dates you two went on before you left for university. There was a carnival you were dying to visit, and Seokjin surprised you with tickets and a kiss.

You remember being so elated while traversing through the whimsical booths, failing fantastically at the rigged games, scarfing down sticky, billowy cotton candy. Squeaky horns and childish laughter filled your ears, and you could still feel Jin’s gentle fingers on your hand as he shyly tugged you under glowing stringed lights.

The main attraction was a carousel keeping everything else in orbit, its charisma shining like a golden, spinning sun. When night fell, you too gravitated toward its charm, standing behind its barricade to watch horses and teacups endlessly turn.

It was so captivating that you forgot yourself and where you were - who you were supposed to be spending time with. Swiveling in fear, you scanned the bustling crowd for your boyfriend, realizing that you needn’t worry at all.

Seokjin simply waited behind you, holding up his phone and telling you to pose. You were so caught off-guard in that moment that your face contorted hilariously right as he snapped the photo. In his eyes, it was the greatest picture of all time.

However, it wasn’t that well received by its subject. You begged Seokjin to delete it, and he finally caved on the grounds that you took a replacement. Conceding, you stomped back to the gate guarding the twirling attraction and pranked your boyfriend with a blank expression.

But as soon as Seokjin drawled “You look like you don’t care-ousel,” you burst into laughter - your unabashed mirth becoming his background on every device he owned.

The scene faded from your eyes as the current Seokjin stood in front of you, gripping the Polaroid instead of his phone. Gone were the lights and sounds of the theme park and, with them, your fleeting moment of solace.

“Oh,” was all he stated in return, and you swore the temperature chose to drop in that moment just to mock you.

“You know I don’t prefer it anyways.” Your heart was losing its grip, sorrow evident in your shaky tone. You folded your arms to shield your body from the weather and unwanted emotions. “I’m definitely not as photogenic as you.”

“Nonsense,” Seokjin shot back. “Now hurry up, it’s only golden minute now!”

And just like that, his warmth melted any awkwardness like spring chasing away winter.

In retrospect, he probably regarded that moment at the carnival differently, or he just wanted to keep those memories in the past where they belonged. It hurt to be the only one so strongly affected by them, but Jin had the right idea. If there existed a standard list of activities to do with an ex, talking about the past wasn’t one of the options. Especially if you had feelings for said ex.

Plus, you didn’t forget that there was something he had to tell you. It seemed like you were going to have to wait a little longer for that, and your anxiousness wasn’t pleased.

As you ambled to the center of the clearing, you focused more on the crunching sounds your boots made rather than your feelings. With a quick survey of the area, you surmised that it really was a pretty spot, the mountain range peeking behind the trees adding depth to the setting. Adjusting your outfit, you took a breath of courage before staring at the eye of the Polaroid.

Seokjin moved the camera from his face and called your name, roping your gaze to his concern. “Smile, okay?”

On instinct, your throat constricted. You couldn’t hide behind the lens that time. But smile you did, and you hoped Seokjin thought it genuine, silently pleading him to not notice the anguish lingering behind your crescent eyes.

The fire pit your friends constructed blazed bright as you both made it back to the campgrounds. Everyone occupied the surrounding logs and, judging from the soft pop pumping from a portable speaker, Jungkook must have commandeered music control.

Jimin turned when he heard your footsteps, his expression indiscernible as he shifted his gaze between you and Jin. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, only turning back to Yoongi to continue their conversation.

Seokjin and you parted ways effortlessly: he slotted into the empty space next to Namjoon and you headed to your tent to stow your camera.

And for some reason, that easy departure was hard to swallow.

Your pitched space offered warmth upon entry, and you dumped yourself onto your sleeping bag without a word. A few quiet moments passed before you unzipped your backpack, the tiny action feeling so tedious, so difficult to achieve.

After you finally stored your equipment and closed your bag shut, you just… sat there. Contemplative.

Mentally, you were in a bad place. Your thoughts and emotions banged into each other, their war rendering you powerless - captive. Fidgeting with the plasticky fabric of your sleeping bag, you thought back to what happened after you two left the photo spot.

It was an uneventful walk back for the most part. The polaroids turned out nice, all thanks to the very rare and very expensive camera you borrowed. Seokjin claimed yours and handed you his, and faced with your sudden curiosity, he sheepishly offered, “You don’t have to keep it.”

You were more questioning of the fact that he stored yours in his jacket, but you didn’t want to broach that subject. It was beginning to scare you. Maybe it was the fact that he was acting strange, coupled with the other fact that he was hiding something from you.

Why were you suddenly afraid to confront him? You two were open with each other during your relationship. Were you also wanting to put this dreaded conversation off as long as possible, too?

If he was with someone else, though, would he still be keeping your picture?

It was too much to think about, so you tried to lock everything in a box and sit on it.

You saw the light of the campfire after a few minutes of walking through the woods - a handful of silent, crawling minutes. It was bugging you that Seokjin didn’t say anything on the way back. A quiet Jin was a Jin knee deep in thought, and not in good circumstance. In a moment of weakness, you almost offered out your hand to grab his, but you instead crammed it inside your coat pocket.

When you both rejoined your friends, it seemed so easy for you guys to separate, like you didn’t just go off and do something so intimate. Even though that wasn’t the word you wanted to use.

You resigned yourself to the big picture nonetheless: it wasn’t like what Taehyung and Rin did. Your best friend was insanely popular on social media with her carefully curated feed and relatable-yet-unachievable style. Taehyung had his own massive following for different reasons, and you couldn’t deny that he knew exactly what he was doing to gain the hearts of many. They were snapping photos for each other to show millions of anonymous beings across the world.

You and Seokjin just took photos for each other to have. No one else was going to see those.

Why did you feel like that was significant?

The edge of your sleeping bag began to fray under duress, so you plucked your body off the ground and slipped back outside. What you expected was the temperature dipping a couple degrees in nightfall. What you didn’t expect was Jimin waiting for you, puffy jacket and all, leaning against a tree.

When he saw you emerge from your tent, he straightened and regarded you with caution. “Everything okay?”

You adjusted the front of your coat before fishing a beanie out to cover your ears. “Yeah, why?”

“You were just in there for awhile,” Jimin explained, his eyes searching yours, “And you were with him for a long time.”

“I don’t like being interrogated, Park,” you sighed.

“I know, I just…” He mirrored you and huffed his own breath toward the ground. A quick glance had you noticing that his own beanie was knit as thick as the fog in your mind. “I just want to make sure.”

Jimin was whom you considered closest next to your best friend and formerly Seokjin. After your break up, Jimin regularly sent you texts to check on you, despite your constant assurance that you were okay. It got to a point where you phoned him and pleaded reprieve - to reach out only if he had something critical to say.

His broken reply? He only texted you because Seokjin wouldn’t.

You ended up crying after that call, and the tears annoyingly persisted a couple nights following.

He was also one of the only two people in the world that knew you loved Jin. Rin was the other, and that’s only because you let it slip during a girls’ night over cheap wine and period piece movies. Something about an early morning confession in a dewy meadow was enough to loosen your alcohol-mottled tongue.

After you ran your fingers over your head, you responded, “Can I ask you something?”

Your friend’s eyes roamed over your face. “Of course.”

“What’s he hiding from me?”

Jimin instantly clammed up at the question. His dancer frame assumed a rigid position, each limb locking, including his jaw. “It’s not my place to say,” he answered gravely, pulling anger from your center.

“Does everyone else know this secret except me?” You really couldn’t take it anymore, especially knowing that something you supposedly deserved to know was possibly public knowledge.

“Just the guys,” Jimin divulged, and you scoffed.

“I can’t believe this.” You made to walk away, in the opposite direction of the campfire. Into the woods again.

Jimin said your name like he just wanted you to understand already, halting you mid-stride. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to you. Trust me, I have.”

“He’s a grown man, Park. His decisions aren’t your problem,” you whispered.

“But aren’t they yours?”

“Not anymore. We aren’t together right now, if you don’t recall.” You knew you were spitting bullshit, and Jimin did, too. If Seokjin wasn’t giving you problems, you wouldn’t have been hiding in your tent or literally and figuratively walking away from him. Guiltily, you turned back to face Jimin and give him his credit.

He was this way for everyone in your group: the glue that hung on and fought to keep people from breaking apart. Whenever a fight broke out between warring parties, Jimin was the middle man. Always.

Sighing, you relented, “I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you. I’m just so confused, and the longer he hides whatever he’s hiding from me, the more restless I’ll be.”

“Everyone is on your side in this,” Jimin replied. “He just needs to, I don’t know, woman up.”

A breath of laughter escaped you at the tweaked phrase, the tension coating your shoulders slowly sliding off in clumps. “Did you say ‘woman up?’”

“Men aren’t shit,” your friend explained, pointing a gloved finger to punctuate every syllable. “At least women get things done.”

“I would totally drink to that if I had a bottle in my hand, Jimin.”

“Ah, well that can be arranged!” The boy’s eyes crinkled as he spun on a heel. “Let’s go. Jungkook and Taehyung brought out the drinks awhile ago. I missed out on a few bottles already talking to you.”

“Oh, I feel so remorseful,” you cooed, your voice worthy of giving kids cavities. “Almost as if I cared.”

“Ass,” Jimin snapped, but he could only laugh. When you joined his side, he turned and whispered, “But seriously. If he doesn’t talk about it by the end of this trip, I’m giving him hell.”

The temperature dropped again at that moment, and the wind blowing through the pines cut straight into your bones. Your shoulders hunched on instinct and you blinked to get needed moisture. Was it going to snow? The skies above did look intimidating. Was it going to storm?

A sudden trepidation settled into your gut. “Did we check the weather,” you queried, shuffling through your brain to see if you monitored it yourself before the trip.

“Uh-umm, I did,” Jimin answered through chattering teeth, “But I didn’t see anything other than it being cold.”

You pulled out your phone and regretted doing so, your fingers freezing over instantly. You were lucky you all chose a location that was still in signal range - really, thanks went to Rin and Taehyung for incessantly demanding it every year.

Pulling up the weather app after a few tries, you cursed at the oncoming forecast. “Well, there’s more to it. Snow’s coming in,” you relayed to Jimin. “Let’s pack up and find a place to stay.”

The car ride to the nearest lodging felt immensely different than the ride to the campgrounds. Some people focused on defrosting, one person worried about the people in the front, and the two said people in the front weren’t talking at all.

It was you that broke the silence when you steadily gave directions, and Seokjin would repeat them like always. Selfishly, you wanted the car ride to keep going just so you could hear his voice. He wasn’t saying anything otherwise, and there wasn’t music playing for him to absentmindedly sing along to.

The first snowfall was light as your caravan entered the small town nearby, which relieved you. Tiny snowflakes clung onto the windows and you lost yourself in their geometric patterns. Lights from the shops and other stray cars reflected in the slick roads to create a symphony of color, and white patches already settled on trees that lined the main way.

Seokjin spotted the lodge first, and he rolled into a spot towards the entrance, Jungkook’s car slotting into the next space. Your driver rolled down his window and repeatedly pointed his finger down to signal for Yoongi to follow suit. “Let’s go in and make sure they have our rooms first,” he called out, and Jungkook leaned over his console to shout a hearty okay.

You hoisted yourself out of the car and waited for the boys to follow. Seokjin went to stand next to you, but instead of Jungkook popping out of the other car, it was Namjoon that emerged. You could only guess that the youngest slyly started a game to have the loser get out.

Your stomach turned when you realized it was most likely because no one wanted to be left alone with you and Seokjin.

Remorse burned your throat. This trip was supposed to be fun, but it just felt strained. Were you overthinking? Or was your churning gut correct in its assumption?

At the very least, you hoped everyone else was having a better time than you were.

It seemed that the man beside you had the same feeling that a challenge was pitched. “Rock-paper-scissors? Or nose goes?”

Namjoon just laughed at the ground as his face flushed. “Nose goes, and I put my finger on my mouth so, umm, that’s that.”

You chuckled while you three made your way to the door, both of them towering over you on either side. Seokjin opened the entrance for everyone and, when you stepped foot inside, you were hit with a wave of warmth mixed with an undercurrent of gingerbread. The entirety of the main entrance bathed in plaid or embroidered throws, and there was an obvious affinity for Christmas on display with the plethora of garlands, lights, and a towering Christmas tree in the front bay window.

Namjoon and Seokjin quickly got distracted by the toy train running through a snowy village setup. Adorable, but not helpful.

Alone at the front desk, you received confirmation that your group had four bookings, and you thanked the concierge while you gathered the keys.

The rooms weren’t next to each other. One of them sat on another floor, and the rest were separated but shared the same level.

A container of pamphlets caught your attention, so you grabbed one before strolling away. “Guys, let’s claim our rooms. After that, you can watch the train all you want,” you called out, tapping them both on the back with the thin brochure.

They swiveled their heads to your retreating form before following you out the door.

“No. We are not doing that again.”

“Come on, hyung, it’ll be fun!”

“I’m with Yoongi on this one. We could all end up in the same room.”

“But what if you get a room to yourself?”

“Why can’t we ever just pick like normal people? And Hoseok-hyung, you laugh but you have the worst luck out of all of us.”

“Excuse me! That’s only because you all psyche me out!”

“Let’s just pick something. My phone’s almost dead.”

You stood next to Rin while you two watched the boys decide how room assignments were determined. It was a sight to see: them crowding the small hallway, bags littered around their bulky shoes. You both were thankful they were courteous enough to let you two keep a room to yourselves. They even made sure yours wasn’t on the other floor, just so that you girls wouldn’t be alone.

They were going to pick random rooms one-by-one, not knowing which options the others picked until they opened a door. If you and your friend also had to choose, you were risking the possibility of being stuck with Seokjin, which was the last thing you wanted.

On a day where your friendship was actually normal, that wouldn’t have mattered one bit. But right then? The tension surrounding him would have been detrimental.

He had something to say; he wasn’t saying it. You were a sitting, fidgeting duck.

Jungkook whipped his phone out to search the internet for a random coin flip generator. “Here. Heads, we do it. Tails, we don’t.”

Yoongi just snickered in defeat and already started picking up his bag. “I call picking first.”

His intuition proved sharp as the generator pulled up Heads: they were going with the random room assignments. Taehyung kicked his head back with a sigh, and Jimin and Jungkook burst into laughter while the elders collectively groaned.

As Rin giggled at their misfortune, you sent a rueful smile Seokjin’s way out of habit. You were still friends, after all, and he seemed so distraught over the prospect of horrid results. His eyes locked onto yours and, for a brief moment, he offered a shy grin in return.

The fluttering in your chest was quickly shooed away.

It was while everyone relaxed around a public lounge area that Jungkook hurled an accusation, his eyes alight with the flames licking the nearby fireplace. “Hyung cheated.”

Seokjin immediately sat up in his plush chair and retorted, “Take that back! I did nothing of the sort. You all were just too lazy to take the stairs to the next floor.”

Taehyung shot him a side eye and shared his own eloquent opinion. “Seems sus.”

A whole new wave of bickering erupted, and you redirected your attention to the snow storm blustering outside tall windows.

You were thanking every deity above that you guys decided to leave in time. It would’ve been hell in the campsite during this weather, or even while squeezed into the cars.

Though the original plans were derailed, you were pretty happy with the current lodging situation. Who knew a small town would have a humongous lodge? It had to be assumed that this was the main business keeping the town running. Rin was absolutely drinking it in and stated she even wanted to bring her family there, her thoughtfulness curving your mouth upwards.

Another good thing that came out of this trip proved to be the room assignments that Jungkook ended up loathing. They had you clutching your sides when all was said and done.

Four of the boys managed to pick the same room, and Hoseok and Yoongi snagged a room to themselves. These results resulted in one Kim Seokjin speeding up and down the hallway, wholeheartedly shouting with glee. Yoongi almost crumpled to the ground in relief at the end, and Hoseok fell over in laughter when he entered the full room. You could feel the desperation in Namjoon’s muffled voice as he begged Seokjin to let him change rooms. The only reply he received was an ominous “If you behave.”

“Don’t blame us,” Yoongi laughed out, both hands lightly gripping the arms of the rocking chair he chose. “This is what you young people get for trying to be cute.” His relief from only having to bunk with one other person left him chipper, you noticed. To his credit, it was amusing that the youngest four ended up in the same room.

“Okay, gramps,” Jungkook snapped, earning a laugh from Jimin on the seat next to him. “But she definitely gave hyung clues!”

You whipped your head around to shoot a confused look toward your accuser. “Me?”

Multiple eyes darted between you two like pinballs, and you didn’t have time to brace for his next words,

“You know you won’t see him again after this trip, so you—”

“—Kook!”

All oxygen abandoned you as Jimin rushed to shut the younger man’s mouth, practically slapping his face. Eyes popped out of his head as Jungkook paled in realization.

The rest of the boys bore glares into the youngest one’s countenance, but Seokjin turned directly towards you with concern.

What just happened? Your fingers gripped the varnished wood of your chair as you slowly locked eyes with your ex, and your heart dropped like a stone when he shifted his gaze to the floor.

What the fuck was happening? Your brain was going haywire. What did Jungkook mean? You wouldn’t see Seokjin after this trip? The man that you couldn’t wait to see on the last Friday of every November? That was bogus. He was joking. It was a joke, right? One more weekend before Seokjin was gone from your life forever? Impossible. Ludicrous.

Why wasn’t anyone saying anything?

Beside you, Rin clutched one of your tense fists in her soft palms. Addressing the group, her sharp tone demanded an answer when she asked, “What the hell is going on?”

The silence that followed was palpable. Not even the pleasant music drifting through the lodge was enough to damper the tension.

“I think,” Yoongi finally murmured, his words ice, “This is our cue to leave.”

“No need,” your friend snipped, “We’ll go.” She whispered your name before softly tugging you to vacate your seat.

When you pried yourself from the cushion, it took a moment for you to control your legs to actually move. You knew all the guys were watching you, but you were too embarrassed to acknowledge them, too upset to look any of them in the eye.

Rin led you away from the lounge, making sure you were heading toward the nearest staircase before spinning on her heel. “To the unfortunate soul that gets to explain this to me,” she bit, clutching everyone’s attention in her underlying threat, “Text me where to meet you in ten minutes.”

Both you and Rin occupied the carpet, backs against the cookie cutter sofa that existed in each room.

You two pushed the furniture around so that the couch faced the windows instead of the plain TV, and you surprised your friend by dumping yourself onto the ground instead of the cushions. Rin didn’t question you, though. She only followed suit.

The curtains were shoved to the side to reveal the relentless storm, and you watched the swirls and streaks of white until your head fell onto Rin’s shoulder.

“I should’ve been paying attention to you,” she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, the motion feeling awkward in its tilt. “No, no. You’ve been having a fun time, so I’m happy I didn’t ruin that.” Your laugh was dry. “Until now, at least.”

Rin lowered her shoulder so that you rested more comfortably. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m going through a breakup again.”

Fuck. You didn’t realize until the words left your lips that it’s how you really felt.

It had been a few years since you guys ended things. Throughout that whole time, you didn’t feel awkward one bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The “date” that Seokjin brought to the Christmas party last year made you want to tear your hair out. But, that was because she was obviously after his finances and that was the year you realized you loved him.

The conversation you had with Seokjin turned sour, but you really wanted him to see the big picture. You could still recall that night with clarity, the snow falling much lighter than what you currently witnessed outside.

“Seokjin, do you honestly think she likes you?” The red dress you wore was so vibrant that it glinted off the dinnerware spread across the decadent table nearby.

When you pulled your ex aside that night, the only quiet place you could find was the dining room, long abandoned once everyone got their seconds. Up until this point, it was obvious Seokjin wasn’t understanding you. You tried to tell him how you saw it, and he would just brush things aside.

“You sound like you care more than I do,” he accused, his eyes looking everywhere but your face.

Before you responded, you scoffed. “I’m your friend. Of course I’m going to care.”

You remember the strong emotions you suppressed that night. You couldn’t let more things slip than necessary. Yes, you could show him you cared. Yes, you could show him he needed someone else. Just as long as you didn’t give too much of your own feelings for him away. “You deserve someone that at least likes you, for you.”

Seokjin finally stared back at your stormy features, his eyes filled with something unsaid. You sucked in a breath. What else would he say? You liked him for everything he was, but that relationship didn’t pan out. Obviously. You would’ve been going to this Christmas party together if you still dated.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been having that conversation - it was already hard enough for you to say you were his friend. You wanted to be more than that. Again.

“I know she doesn’t like me,” he finally admitted, running a hand through his bangs. The urge to caress his ever soft strands filled you with grief.

You really did like his hair, and it looked even better when coupled with his Nutcracker-esque attire.

“Then why…” You struggled to find a reason why they were even there together. It was a Christmas party with your friends. Why would he bring someone that he didn’t like?

“She’s interested in Namjoon.” Seokjin’s eyes quickly turned into crescents when he witnessed your expression, and his full lips pursed to contain his laughter. “I was trying to get her off me the whole night, but she was trying harder than she needed to to make him jealous. I’m irresistible, you know.”

“Irritable is more like it,” you growled, playfully shoving him aside. “Ass! I was just trying to protect you and you knew this whole time!”

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me!” The man beamed as he made his way out of the dining room.

“Yeah, well,” you whispered, tensing slightly when he stopped. “They have to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.” And you really did mean that.

Seokjin’s smile faltered, and you shot him a half-smile before exiting the room yourself.

That was the last time you guys had an argument, if you could even call it that. The rest of the moments you had with him were completely fine. You wondered if Seokjin could see through you during that conversation. He was perceptive, sure, but you may have gotten away with looking like just a good friend.

It was just worrisome since you couldn’t control your emotions that night. You only got to see him in person during these November trips and Christmas parties when you went home, after all. Seeing him again after realizing you loved him ignited something within you, and it took the whole night to put that fire out.

This looming news just felt way too heavy to handle. Was it because you reached where the sidewalk ended? You weren’t going to see his face in person or hear his laugh out loud. There wasn’t going to be off-the-cuff, awful dad jokes thrown your way every end of November.

A nagging idea, far in the depths of your mind, kept tapping your shoulder. But you brushed it off with a scowl.

Even if you acknowledged the concept, there was no way Seokjin felt the same about you. Neither one of you said you loved each other throughout the time you were dating. Were there times you thought you did? Admittedly, yes. Did you ever think about telling him? Another yes. But he never hinted that he felt the same, so it would’ve been awkward for you if it turned out he didn’t. The absence of a confession kept you from revealing yours. So of course even now, you couldn’t tell him. Especially since he was apparently leaving.

Rin didn’t speak for awhile, but you knew she wasn’t the best at comforting people. She was number one at standing up for you and protecting you, but when it came to the softer parts of consoling, she did flounder. Which was endearing and calming in itself.

“How can I help,” she simply offered, and you nuzzled further into her neck. She always smelled so nice, your guardian Rin.

The adrenaline from Jungkook’s bombshell, your swift exit, and the constant stream of thoughts started to wane. Exhaustion slowly took its place like honey sliding into a jar. Softly, your eyelids drooped and you whispered, “This room is a castle, so be my big bad dragon and don’t let anyone in.”

The last sound you heard before falling asleep was a tinkling laugh followed by a small “As you wish, princess.”

When you regained consciousness, you discovered that you were strewn across one of the beds instead of the ground. You couldn’t even estimate how much time passed while you were out, but the storm outside was still thrashing and the only light in the room was the emergency one by the door.

You groggily propped up weary limbs in search of your phone, eventually swiping it from the nightstand. Still half-asleep, you barely registered the pain meds and glass of water sitting on that same table, their dark silhouettes waiting patiently.

Bright pixels mocked your drool-covered chin. Scrunching your face instinctively, you scrolled through your notifications while blinking sleep from your lashes. You received multiple texts, but you didn’t want to open the threads completely, so you opted to check them from the Home screen.

Jiminie [7:20pm]: Fuck, I’m sorry that happened. Please be okay. Love you.

Tae [7:21pm]: free hugs whenever you need. you know the drill.

Rin-Rin [7:36pm]: I know you said not to let anyone in but I literally couldn’t carry you to the bed. Forgive me!

Yoongi [7:37pm]: He’s in his room. I kept telling him to tell you. I know it’s shit to find out this way so if he doesn’t explain things to you, I will.

Hobi [7:39pm]: we’re here for u love!! let me know if u need anything. there’s a small concession stand downstairs so if u need smth i can run it up!!

Jiminie [7:40pm]: Kook is in bad shape. He swore he thought hyung told you already. Don’t worry tho. I’m not letting him off easy.

Rin-Rin [7:43pm]: Hey, love. Just spoke to Seokjin. I think you need to talk to him yourself, but only if you feel up for it.

Joonie [7:45pm]: I gave Rin a bottle of pain meds we had in our room

Joonie [7:45pm]: Go ahead and take some when you wake up

Joonie [7:45pm]: We can count this as an emergency

Jiminie [8:21pm]: Let me know if you’re okay, okay?

Kook [8:33pm]: I’m so sorry

Rin-Rin [8:48pm]: Grabbing us some snacks from downstairs, I’ll brb.

Your battered heart sank even more when you noticed a distinct absence amongst the names. Seokjin didn’t send you a single message.

What had gotten into him? Did he still not want to talk to you despite you knowing his secret? You clicked your phone shut without opening any of the messages and sunk into the pillows. It was 8:49pm, so you had barely missed Rin’s departure. Her exit was probably what woke you.

Unwittingly, you found your device in front of your baggy eyes again, berating yourself for hovering over Seokjin’s thread. The last text he sent stared back at you in a mocking set of pixels.

Kim JokeJin [Thursday, 9:23pm]: Let’s make this one the best one!

With the previous context, this was just a regular message about the yearly trip. With the right context, these words tied your throat in a knot.

You were sure you loved him, but what you were feeling now was even stronger. If you were honest with yourself, you would say that this is what yearning truly felt like, what something deeper than love felt like.

But you were a fool and a liar, so you convinced yourself it was only because you wouldn’t see him again.

As soon as you were about to give up and lock your phone, the thread updated with a new text from Seokjin, and you stilled.

Kim JokeJin [8:51pm]: You’re probably still asleep, so I don’t want to wake you.

You immediately clicked on his message, your anxiousness protected by the absence of Read receipts. The typing bubble kept popping in and out of the screen and, with bated breath, you waited to see if a second text slid into the thread. A hard exhale whooshed from your throat when the second message came through.

Kim JokeJin [8:53pm]: But I owe you an explanation so come up when you can.

Fingers locked your phone in an instant when the door creaked on its hinges. Rin entered with an armful of chips and various candy bars, and as you started to get up, she tutted.

“Sit down, lady.” Packages crinkled as she dumped them onto your covered legs in a processed, sweet and salty heap. “Did you take the medicine?”

You shook your head, very sure that you looked like a cranky Troll doll.

“Go ahead and eat something really quick so the medicine will work. When you’re awake enough…” Rin’s voice trailed off, but you filled in the blanks yourself. Go talk to him was what she wanted to say.

“Can’t you just tell me what he said?” You were hopeful that Rin would save you the pain of confronting Seokjin yourself. In reality, she denied your request.

“Not this time,” she murmured, “This is something that needs to come from him.”

You figured as much, but it didn’t hurt to try getting out of it. It was a conversation that you both wanted and dreaded to have. Under your goosebumps, your bones trembled.

If you were frightened by the mere gist of it, how were you going to react to the real thing?

The reality was that you needed the closure Seokjin was offering. You didn’t think this vacation - or your friendship, for that matter - could regain normalcy until you had this talk. “Sorry I ruined this trip,” you whispered, playing with a corner of the closest bag of chips.

“I’m sorry, is your name ‘Jungkook?’” Rin laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s not ruined. At the very least, it’s salvageable. Maybe.”

“You should be a weather girl with these confident forecasts,” you joked, coaxing a laugh from your friend. You offered a small smile in return, but your heart wasn’t in it. She kinda forgot that this is the last trip you guys would have with Seokjin. If anything, it was doomed from the start.

Little striations ran across the door greeting you, shallow cuts skirting up and down the frame. You roved your eyes over the rough texture; contemplative, lost in the mahogany brown expanse.

If only you were a sturdy tree. You wouldn’t have to worry about any hard conversations in life. All you would’ve had to worry about was possibly becoming a rickety chair for a spoiled brat, or one of Namjoon’s tables that he would eventually damage and lament over.

With a breath, you finally knocked.

It didn’t take long for Seokjin’s freshly showered form to answer, and when you saw him dressed down to a plain white shirt and black pants, you quickly shifted your eyes to the floor. Didn’t he know that outfit was your favorite? Your weakness?

“Hey,” you simply said. “I’m awake now.”

He nodded and let you in, the door closing with a soft click. When you crossed the room, you stopped in front of the couch, anticipation already caking onto your clothes. There wasn’t much to say on your end, you figured, so Seokjin had to take the lead.

Instead of launching into topic, he walked towards you and grabbed a bottle from his nightstand. “Do you want some water?”

You could only stare at the plastic in question. “Did I come here for water, Seokjin?”

There was a heavy pause before the man planted his offering on the nightstand. “No.” Sitting on the longer side of his bed, he clasped his hands together, blank eyes glued to the floor. “Jungkook is right. I won’t be able to go on these trips anymore.”

“Why?”

“I, umm,” Seokjin answered, his words fumbling, “I kinda got into Harvard Medical School.”

“What?” Your anxiousness was forgotten as you gawked at him. That was what he was holding back from you? All this time? That amazing, fantastic, crazy news? Without thinking, you bounded toward him and crushed him in a hug, careful to not push him back onto the bed. “Seokjin! This is what you couldn’t tell me?”

His arms remained at his sides. When he responded, his explanation bounced onto your shoulder, “I literally won’t have a life once I start. None of you will be able to see this face, isn’t that enough to be sad about?”

Another moment of weakness came over you, and instead of overcoming it, you gave in. Your arms tightened around him and you whispered, “No, I’m so happy for you. You’ve worked so hard…”

There were bags under his eyes for a reason. You knew the nights he got three hours of sleep far outweighed the nights he got more than that. The reason you two didn’t get to see each other was his relentless studying and discipline, and you didn’t want him to have to choose between you and a future career. You both were way too young for those rash decisions.

It was with this memory that you were reminded of why you broke up: you wanted him to focus on his goals and you would do the same. “Really, I’m so proud of you.”

Why you hadn’t let go of him at that point was a mystery to you, but you couldn’t seem to stop. The feel of his body against yours consumed you, held you captive even if his arms didn’t.

But after a moment, you felt strong limbs wrap around your sides and emotion wrap around your throat.

You don’t remember the last time you two truly embraced. It was a given that the last time you did, you were both completely different people. Both so young. Both so naive.

“Thank you,” Seokjin breathed, his head finally a beautiful burden on your shoulder, “But there’s more.”

Tension froze your veins, taking the color from your complexion. Of course there was more. There was no way that was the big reveal, even though it was a monster in itself. “Oh,” was all you managed to squeak out.

Seokjin’s arms gently pushed your body away so that he could look you in the eyes. You already missed his stronghold, but you listened as he spoke. “My parents want me to go back home. To Korea.”

You blinked. “Even though you got into Harvard?”

“No, no, after that,” Seokjin expressed with a level of confidence only he could achieve. Like it was inconceivable that he wouldn’t get his doctorate. He then searched your face, the pause holding weight. “So, I don’t know if I’ll see you guys again.”

The wind howled outside and you shivered as if you were standing out there in the cold. There was so much that you wanted to say, but all the thoughts you had in your head melded together into sludge. Words struggled to leave your mouth. Nothing processed correctly in your brain.

Seokjin wasn’t joking - not this time. He really was going to be swamped in work and work and more work. Even the holidays were going to be crammed, and you were sure he wanted to use those rare rest periods solely to recharge.

Yes, he would still be able to text and call everyone, but that would be the extent of communication. He wasn’t big on social media. Even if he was, there would certainly be a dip in his activity now.

Just like you felt earlier, you really did feel like you were going through a breakup again. Only this time, the last remains of your relationship were at stake.

You didn’t want that.

“We’d still be friends,” you weakly offered, wondering if you were just saying that to convince yourself.

An empty chuckle startled you, and when you looked at Jin, he directed an empty gaze toward his nightstand’s lamp. “Yeah… We’d still be friends,” he repeated, and the way he said that made your shoulders sag. It was almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“But Seokjin… You should be so happy. I mean, you’re incredible,” you whispered, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest.

“What if I’m not?”

You sucked in a breath, suddenly not knowing what to do. Was he saying that hypothetically? No. There wouldn’t be a reason for him to ask if he truly was.

How were you supposed to respond to that? Being a doctor was his goal - you were sure of it. If he got accepted into Harvard of all places, then his future glimmered as bright as his charm. “What do you mean,” was what you decided to say. Because you needed more from him than that.

“You said I should be happy. What if I’m not?”

“This is what you’ve been working towards your whole life!” It didn’t make any sense. None of this was making any sense. Who wasn’t happy that they got accepted to one of the most prestigious medical programs in the world? “You did everything you could, and now you have something to show for it! We even broke up over this. And that’s fine,” you quickly added at the end. You didn’t want Seokjin to feel bad for that at all.

“What I’m trying to say is,” you continued, wanting to get every logical word out before more irrational ones escaped. “You’ve gotten everything you wanted. You deserve to be happy.”

You could feel the doors of your heart scraping shut. Even if you wanted to try to be with him again, you would have to give up on that dream. There was no way it was going to work if it didn’t pan out last time.

Fists clenched, you hated how your heart gravitated towards Seokjin on this damn trip, loathed how your brain produced its own highlight reel. Somehow, they both knew this was the end before you did.

“I don’t have everything I want, but you’re right. I’ll be happy.” He sounded bitter. Why did he sound so bitter?

“What more could you want,” you blurted, the question materializing between the two of you in bold letters. You were just getting frustrated at this point.

This was his dream. The ultimate goal. The one thing he wanted out of life.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“Well, it’s none of your concern.”

“I don’t care if it is or not.”

“You really want to know?” Seokjin shot off the bed, immediately towering over your small stature. As your eyes reached his face, you watched as his lips twisted, your shocked features taking in his frustration. “It’s… It’s love, okay? That might sound weird to you, but I’ve realized that all of this is pointless without it. That’s what I’m missing. I want to love again.” He shoved a hand through his hair, his forehead slightly wrinkling under duress.

The first thing that threw you off was the mere mention of the word. That was so brave of him to even bring it up. With you, of all people: someone he’s dated before. It must have taken so much courage for him to admit that.

But there was another word in there that stood out amongst all the others.

Again. He said again. Did he love someone before? He couldn’t have been referring to what you guys had. You never once said those words to each other while you dated. So who was he thinking of? And why did it hurt to know that he had loved before and it wasn’t you?

“I didn’t know you wanted that,” you replied, your voice painfully small. “But I don’t think it’s weird.”

You wanted nothing more than to just confess to him already, but you had no clue what he would say if he didn’t want something with you. The moment escaped like a thief in the night.

“Ah, well, if you knew the whole story,” Seokjin sighed, his breath shaky, “You would definitely think it’s stupid.”

“Why did it end the first time?” You wanted to get to the bottom of it. Maybe through his explanation, you could find something salvageable. You cared about him - so damn much. Seeing him in a state of utter helplessness seized your heart and gripped it tight. “With the one you… you loved. What happened?”

Seokjin’s indiscernible stare pierced through your soul, his silence screaming that he didn’t want to talk about it.

And you understood his reluctance. The list of activities to do with an ex didn’t include this as an option, either.

You felt the steely aftertaste of guilt on your tongue. Maybe he wanted you to just leave him alone already. Besides, you already pushed him to tell a multitude of truths that night. Asking him about a past love life was most likely crossing the line. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, uprooting yourself from your spot to leave. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll leave you alone.”

You made it three steps before Seokjin responded, “She decided to end it.”

A vice clamped your chest. You stood in your new spot closer to the door, eyes boring into the floor. “Even though you were in love?”

That must have been awful. If you loved him when you two broke it off, it would have absolutely hurt. Very much like what was happening to you now, in fact. Because fuck, were you absolutely disintegrating like a paper on fire.

“I don’t think she loved me,” Seokjin disclosed, his words tightening the clasp around your lungs. “But I loved her.”

“I’m so sorry, Seokjin.” Tears brimmed across your eyes, but you didn’t want him to see you break. You thrummed with so many emotions in that moment, swept by the current of his words, his heavy tribulations.

He loved someone in the past. You loved him in the present. If only you both harbored a love for each other in at least one point in your lives.

“That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t, for the most part.” His brittle words crumbled as they appeared. “I saw it coming.”

You chewed on your lip. Seokjin’s confessions were so full of pain - the amount of love he had for this person was obvious. Looking back on your relationship, you remember your split being mutual. It was mutual, right? There weren't any feelings involved. Whichever other situation Seokjin was referring to had to be sometime after you.

Maybe it was someone during his college days. But wouldn’t you have at least heard about them through the friend circle? Their name must have just left your mind. You knew Seokjin flirted a lot but he needed to be serious to really start a relationship. This one just sounded tragic.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted sincerely, your chest about ready to collapse, “Other than don’t give up. You can do it. Love again.” The joints in your knees threatened to give out. Telling the one you loved that he could find someone again was too much. Too, too much.

“Ah, yeah. Well.” Seokjin turned away from you in a shrug. Even the back of his profile was perfect. “Thanks for being a good, uh, friend.”

Friend. Could you teleport to your room and stay there? You couldn’t be the one to give him what he wanted, especially since he was about to be gone for a very long time. No matter how much you wanted to. Oh, how you wanted to.

You swung around to face the door once again. Critical words almost freed themselves from your lips, but you held them back, swallowed them down. “I’ll always be your friend.”

Head storming, you commended yourself for keeping your voice level. The tears were able to recede - which relieved you, since you wanted to make it through the rest of the conversation with dry eyes. With one tiny head shake, you whispered, “Let’s get some sleep, okay? I don’t want us to ruin the rest of this trip. Like you said before, we have to make it the best one.”

Seokjin got up and made his way over to you, and you turned around with a fresh face once you knew he was close enough. The smile he wore was manufactured, but you didn’t want to pry. Instead, you repeated your advice as you both approached his door. Because you wanted him to understand. “Seriously. Don’t give up, you hear me?”

“Don’t give up,” he echoed as he pulled on the handle, like you were just giving him directions. He stilled for a moment in deep concentration before looking your way. Dark eyes bore into yours and you could almost hear them speak, but he gave one final nod and vowed, “Okay.”

Little striations met you again when you gave Seokjin’s closed room one last look, and you swore they regarded you with pity. Finally breaking, you let your tears fall the whole way back to your floor, wishing to be made into a sturdy tree in your next life so you never had to feel that way again.

The next morning found all nine friends situated in various places around Seokjin’s room. You thought it amusing that the boys never really settled for normal seats, always choosing a table or windowsill perch instead. As an avid fan of the floor yourself, apparently, you were once again plopped on the ground in front of the sofa. Only this time, you weren’t drowning in the depths of your past.

“Looks like the snow piled up high last night, so we might not be able to use the cars,” Namjoon observed after his long fingers created a tiny crack in the curtains. His argyle sweater blended in with the burgundy fabric and the sight put a small smile on your face.

The action surprised you since you spent the whole night swathed in a blanket of regret, your arms caging your ribs in an attempt to stopper your bleeding heart. If only you were so bold as to allow a confession to fall from your lips. Three words to solve two peoples’ problems.

But the risk involved was too high. The hurt following an unrequited love confession would haunt you through every sunrise and sunset.

Jungkook’s exasperated voice sliced through your thoughts. “What are we gonna do then?” You glanced at him right as he threw himself onto Seokjin’s bed, bouncing the other two occupants like buoys amongst waves.

“What we can do: stay in,” Yoongi responded while repositioning himself against the headboard.

Taehyung’s sigh mingled with Rin’s tsking noise, Jungkook’s deeper groan almost in harmony with the both of them. Their melancholic concerto almost pulled a laugh out of you, but the next suggestion came from Hoseok, “I brought some board games we could play. Cards, too.”

Seokjin quickly shot him a look. “You don’t play board games. Or games. Or cards. Actually, what do you do?”

“I look after all of you.” Hoseok’s head always bobbed when he spoke to accentuate his points. “Hence why I brought board games and cards just in case!”

You couldn’t refute the man’s claims, either. Hoseok always made sure everyone packed what they needed before trips but brought extra stuff in the event that the group needed something else. Helping was just part of his nature. Yesterday was one example. Rin got the snacks last night, but you were sure he would have woken up at any point in time to be your comfort food delivery man. If being a leader were a sport, Hoseok would be the dark horse that you never saw coming until they finished first. Then you couldn’t deny their talent and skill.

Taehyung didn’t let the dark horse live, though. “Thanks, hyung. Did you pack a snowblower, too?”

Rin’s laugh could always be heard amongst your friends, but not because she was a girl. Hers was just so distinct and heartwarming, like a cozy throw or the thought of cookies in the oven. It was only slightly better than Jimin’s.

Speaking of which: Jimin was eerily quiet throughout the whole meeting, his gaze lingering on you more than once. You noticed it ever since you burst into Seokjin’s room and lauded the man’s scholastic advancement. Which couldn’t be helped. No matter how painful last night’s conversation was, you still wanted him to know how proud you were. After all, a person could be sporting a dagger through their heart but still have love to give.

You didn’t know why Jimin was acting strange. The big secret was unveiled but you would come to terms with it. Was he afraid of how you would be feeling? Or was he just sympathizing with you because he assumed you weren’t exactly fine? Talking to him later to iron things out was going to be essential. The multiple glances he threw your way proved too much.

“I have a pamphlet we can look through,” you responded, waving it in the air like a white flag. The decision to bring it just in case proved to be the right one, even if Rin threw a small fit from having to fumble through her bag for the room key again. Warmth from the thick hoodie swallowing both your body and your bent legs validated the first time you went back into your room.

Rin stuck her tongue out at you but smiled right after in her best Sour Patch Kid impression. Cute. You breathily laughed before unfolding the flimsy paper. Shifting your eyes along the colorful pages, you started listing out the lodge activities. “Okay, so we have… Kayaking: no. Lake yoga: no. Mountain biking: no…”

Even though the lodge boasted a huge amount of things to do, the majority of them required there to not be four billion inches of snow outside. Only a few remained, and majority rules determined ski slopes the winner.

The only issue with the slopes was that they only allowed groups of three at a time. To remedy this, groups were formed and a rotation was set based on a heated tournament of rock-paper-scissors. And while Hoseok didn’t play board games, cards, or even video games, he seemed to be a pro at that.

He picked Seokjin and Yoongi for his group, and they were going out first, to the eldest’s horror. You saw his anxiousness coming from miles out - tackling snow with one board was much more up his alley than tackling it with two.

Next, Jungkook chose Namjoon and Jimin since he wanted to somehow “win” on the slopes. They gave him much grief for that.

And that left you with Rin and Taehyung, but they wanted to check out the spa area first, so your group was going to catch up later.

Which wasn’t ideal for you. You wanted to watch Seokjin ski. Or really, you just wanted to see him as much as possible before the trip ended. Seok in his presence, like he said. Maybe being pruny in this case was a beautiful thing.

Room Service knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts, and Jimin let them in to serve the breakfast Seokjin ordered for everyone prior. While the dishes were distributed, the group was already firing bets and insults and digs at each other as if a clear winner would emerge outside. And you welcomed every bit of their energy. Chewing on food while basking in everyone’s competitive nature was enough of a distraction from your woes. At least, until you caught Jimin deep in thought again.

The spa was decent, so you three ended up staying for almost an hour. Both the sauna and facial massage served to ease the thick layer of tenseness under your skin. If only you could transport yourself into a cloud of steam every time you thought about Seokjin. Maybe that would’ve helped with the anxiousness and guilt you felt every time you thought about confessing.

And you were grateful for Taehyung tagging along because he really did offer free hugs often. Even while Rin scanned over the receipt for everything you guys did, the man slung a lean arm around your shoulders.

His voice glided over your hair when he leaned in to ask, “How did it go last night?”

You sighed before responding, debating on how to answer him. You decided to take the easy route. “Good. Better than I expected. I just can’t believe it took him that long to tell me! I was so worried this whole time.”

Taehyung squeezed you gently. “Finally. We kept telling him to just admit it already.”

Rin was in the middle of paying when you smiled. Her hair gleamed in the incandescents, and you reached out to touch it as you admitted, “It’s just weird that he wanted to hide that from me.”

“Well, you’re his ex, so he thought it would’ve been awkward.”

A laugh shot out of you, and Taehyung gave you a look. “Seokjin’s so strange. He knows I’ve been rooting for him this whole time. I mean, Harvard? That’s incredible.”

Normally, friends would converse about achievements and be sincerely happy about them. But something else happened in that moment that set alarm bells off in your head. Whether it was Rin becoming a block of ice in front of you, or Taehyung slowly peeling his arm off of your shoulders, you suddenly got a feeling that something wasn’t right.

When Rin spun around to face you, the expression painted on her face reminded you of those Renaissance pieces you saw during one museum date with your ex. Her eyebrows artfully scrunched; her full lips twisted. Was she on the side of the angels, battling demons? Going to war?

No, she was just trying to clarify something. “He didn’t say anything else?”

You gulped. “I mean, yeah?”

“What did he say?” Taehyung furrowed his dark brows, his own face a work of art in itself.

“That his parents are making him move back to Korea when he’s done with his doctorate,” you revealed, suspicious of the both of them and Seokjin now. You kept your tone level to hide any emotions under the surface. “Why, is there more?”

Once again, you were swept under the wave of confusion. The waters there were dark and cold, and you felt like you couldn’t swim to safety this time. It was as if cotton clogged your ears and a thin film coated your vision. You didn’t even register Taehyung furiously typing on his phone while Rin led you all out of the spa’s reception area.

“Do you want there to be more,” was all she offered before sitting you down on an earthly toned loveseat. The fluffy rug under your shoes snagged most of your attention.

“I don’t know how to answer that, but I guess not,” you finally grunted, feeling angrier and angrier from being left in the dark again. Comparable to a disease, this dangerous feeling was taking over you, trickling into your veins drop by black drop. “Honestly, I kinda just want to go back to the room until we meet for dinner. Whatever you guys are hiding is starting to piss me off.”

“Let’s go,” Rin agreed, urging you to get up and follow her to the room. But you shook her off.

“I’ll go by myself.” Buzzing with anger, you shuffled through your bag to grip your key. “Just let me be alone for a bit.”

Taehyung looked absolutely livid, but he nodded along with Rin. You didn’t watch the two of them share a knowing glance as you drug your crumpling form to the stairs, hoping pieces of you didn’t crumble off before you reached your temporary bed.

From the moment your tired bones hit your comforter, time traveled at a strange pace. You didn’t know how long you spent lying prone on the sheets, your head lolled towards the window. Watching the light snowfall outside did nothing to bring you out of your dark space.

Being left out, confused, and feeling betrayed left you mentally drained. How long were you going to feel like this? Like you were just going to keep being lied to? Maybe you weren’t outwardly lied to, but omitting something was still considered a lie. The truth was still held captive and you couldn’t even pay it a visit.

Rin and Taehyung reacted strongly to what you said. That had to mean whatever else Seokjin was supposed to say to you was big. You weren’t stupid. At least, that’s what you concluded.

But what if you were this time?

You loathed this feeling. You hated being looked at with pity. Even Rin knew what was left unsaid this time, so you were truly alone in the dark.

A dark monster within you rose to life, and you ripped yourself from the sheets. Snatching your coat from the couch, you jerked your arms inside, striding toward your door with purpose. A ball of fury, you were determined to march up the slopes and confront Seokjin. Everything was getting ridiculous.

Tugging the door open, you flinched at the figure waiting on the other side. A brief moment of silence and bewilderment and worry washed over you, quelling a small part of your harbored anger. “What happened to you?”

Seokjin stood in front of you wrapped in his puffy coat, hair in disarray and a small gash on his cheek. His nose was red with the cold and a small cut, and his eyes looked as if he had been holding back tears. Tears? Was he crying? Even now, it seemed like a few were threatening to fall as his gaze lowered. A ghost of a voice wafted from his mouth as he replied, “Jimin.”

You winced. Remembering the glances the younger man gave you this morning, you should have seen a conflict brewing. Your friend wasn’t lying when he said he’d give Seokjin hell. Something must have broken out when they were on the slopes, or anytime you weren’t there with them. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

If you didn’t have that revelation with Rin and Taehyung, you would have been absolutely thrown by Seokjin’s appearance and the cause of it. But it seemed that both groups found out what he told you last night and neither were pleased with the result. What that result was, you couldn’t determine yet. But based on your own categories, “I got into Harvard” and “I’m moving back to Korea” fit in the Should Know box. The Deserved to Know box was still accepting applications.

“Come in.” Your fury had to simmer on a proverbial stove for the time being. “I have a first aid kit in my bag.”

You hurried him into the room before making a beeline for your duffle. The adrenaline built while you were fired up was still thrumming your bones like guitar strings. Nothing more was said as your bag crinkled with your rummaging, even though you wanted to just wring answers from his neck already.

But you couldn’t. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts, both the past woes you were fighting and your current worries.

As Jin awkwardly stood in front of your bed, you kept pondering. What the hell happened out there? How did it end up in a physical altercation? Did Jin fight back? It was already obvious Jimin initiated it, but you wondered if he sported any bruises, too. Not from Seokjin, though. Because you couldn’t ever see him throwing a punch. You were more curious about someone like Yoongi. The elder one was incredibly protective of Jin.

When you found the kit, you spun around to start tending to your ex’s face. “Bed,” you ordered, pointing towards yours with the first aid box. Your tone was harsh, but you weren’t holding it back.

The man was silent as he delicately sat on the comforter, and you instantly noticed how he refused to look at you still.

No matter. Treating his cuts was a priority, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to force him into confrontation right after. Seokjin wasn’t going to have a choice.

Perching yourself next to him, you propped one leg up to steady yourself, clicking open the small kit next to you. It wasn’t as fancy as the one he carried along, but it housed the basics. Fetching some antiseptic and cotton first, you told him to turn towards you so that you could start.

And despite your anger, your exasperation, your frustration, the hands you lifted to Seokjin’s face were nothing but calm.

Throughout the time you dusted his cuts, you kept your gaze on his cheek, his mouth, his nose. A wall erected around you that you refused to take down. After all of the hurt Seokjin had caused, the turmoil he had put you through, it was pertinent you wouldn’t let him in. You had your soldiers’ arrows at the ready, directed right at his wounded face.

But if you so much as flitted your gaze toward his eyes, your walls would crumble to dust. Your gates would slam open in surrender.

Because having him this close to you after all this time was like coming home. And you harbored that feeling ever since the scent of his cologne consumed you. Your face hovered inches from his, your fingers gently pressing his features. All of the nights you yearned to be this close were so lonely and cold, and his warmth was tugging your heart by multiple strings.

His looming absence was hitting you deeply then. If you gave in only to lose him again, the pain would surely hollow out your soul until you were a mere shell of yourself. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress and slip down into the soil underneath the lodge.

Suddenly, a hand cradled your cheek, and you shook on impact. Without thinking, you locked eyes with Jin, and it was then that you realized he was wiping hot tears from your face.

“If I’m the reason for these,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Something strangled escaped you, and you finally caved. “You are,” you exhaled, unable to stop the tears from falling. “You really are.”

You tore yourself from the bed, instantly feeling the lingering warmth of his fingers fade. A chasm was created between you two: your chest heaving on one side and his face crumbling on the other. The mountain of thoughts and feelings you created broke down under pressure, emotions roaring down its slopes in a cathartic avalanche. “I’ve been looking like a fool this whole trip, and apparently everyone is feeling so fucking sorry for me. Why can’t you just tell me everything? What did Yoongi mean? What do I deserve to know? You told me you got into Harvard and have the audacity to say you aren’t happy? What the hell is that about? We’re supposed to be friends, so why am I feeling like you’re letting that all go?” You choked on your tears and clasped a hand over your mouth, a burn blossoming in your chest from the dry sobs.

Seokjin’s eyes ringed with a burgeoning shade of pink, both of his pupils glossed in guilt. “I’m not… I’m not letting that go, but--”

“But what, Seokjin,” you gritted out, “Please stop and just tell me already.”

“But I was too scared,” he admitted, “I’m still scared.”

“Why are you scared?” The question drifted to his face, and you could tell he was struggling to answer even that one. It pained you to be this close yet so far from the answer.

“Why are you scared, Seokjin,” you whispered again, realizing that his hands were shaking.

“Because…” You watched as he clenched them on his thighs, and he struggled to get the words out. “Because it’s going to happen again.”

Enough with the obscurity. Frustration reached a boiling point. “What’s going to happen again?”

“Exactly what happened last time!” Seokjin declared as his eyes pleaded with you, eyebrows furrowed and kneeling in anguish. The skin encasing his watery eyes remained that same dusty shade of affliction.

You couldn’t for the life of you understand what he was saying, until you remembered last night. When you asked him about the time he loved before.

Wait.

Your hand made a slow descent from your face as you matched Seokjin’s stare. A million words skittered across your eyes, transforming into liquid and sliding down your skin. You were sure you looked an absolute wreck with your tear-stained cheeks and reddened nose, but that didn’t concern you at all. The only thing you could hang onto was Jin’s words, just short of a confession.

But you had to be sure. You weren’t settling for five words that could mean a thousand other things while arranged the same way. “The one from before,” you more stated than questioned, “Where is she now.”

Seokjin never broke his gaze, doing an incredible job of keeping tears at the edges of his eyes. Heavy breaths caused his chest to swell with each pass. Voice low, he finally, finally caved, “She’s the one on the polaroid I have in my room.”

The entire conversation from last night struck you like a freight train. So many realizations hit you at once and you didn’t know how your trembling legs were keeping you upright.

It was you. He was talking about you.

Your coat smothered your limbs like a cage, your whole being rattling inside like an animal starved.

That was what he was truly hiding from you. That was what he had buried deep down into his chest. And you couldn’t blame him one bit after you realized it was exactly what you were holding from him, too.

No matter the reason, you still kept your own truth hidden. It occurred to you then that you couldn’t be angry - that would just be hypocrisy. There was bravery in confession, and even more so to someone you no longer were allowed to feel that way about.

You were the one that forced the truth out of Seokjin, and now you only felt like a coward.

Movement in front of you snapped your vision back into focus. He was getting up to leave. Why was he leaving?

“I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll go. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

Oh. He assumed your silence was from guilt. Guilt that you didn’t feel the same. And he was about to walk out with that egregious misconception. What an absolute fool.

But no matter how hard you tried, the words wouldn’t budge from the back of your teeth.

You had two choices here. One, you told him. You laid everything out and you admitted that you felt the same. Then tomorrow, he would leave your life and you may not see him again for years. And you tried this before - being in two separate schools and living different lives while holding onto your relationship. It obviously didn’t work last time, and you still saw him from time to time. This situation would be a thousand times harder.

Which brought you to the second option: you let him go. You let him leave without telling him how you felt. Rip the bandage off right there and then. Leave him to pursue his dream, and with that the freedom to go and find someone else to love. Was that what you wanted? Was this your own sick version of loving him? All the villains in the universe would applaud you as you lied to his face while telling him not to give up. How fucking cruel would that be?

“Seokjin,” you called out, and your chest subtly heaved when he turned to stone by the door. His broad back remained still as you took a step towards him, and only after you roamed your eyes over his shoulders did you notice small movements. But he didn’t face you. It was almost as if he didn’t want to.

Agony consumed your entire being as you made your decision.

You shut your eyes, clenched your jittering fingers into hard fists.

“See you at the campfire,” you whispered, your voice unfamiliar even to yourself.

The only response you got was the soft opening and closing of your door.

Compared to last night’s lion of a snow storm, tonight was but a mere cub. There were small flakes here and there taking their time to descend, and the fixtures from inside the lodge were the only light source beside the fire pit you were approaching downstairs.

Situated in the center of your friends, the flames danced across their jovial smiles as they passed bottles around. The drinks weren’t the lodge’s, but the ones you all brought and snuck out of the rooms - the telltale green glass was enough of a hint.

After Seokjin left, it took you a couple minutes to let everything out, and about thirty minutes crying into Rin’s shoulder once she witnessed your crumpled form on the floor. She listened to your recap of the conversation and Jin’s final secret, and through broken sobs you told her you couldn’t tell him yours. When she asked why, you told her your reasoning. When she called you an idiot, you wholeheartedly agreed and cried even harder.

But you still stuck with your decision. It was for the best. You loved him so much that you wanted what was best for him, and that was to let you go.

“Promise me one thing,” Rin murmured, earning a nod from you. “Only go through with it if you know you won’t regret it.”

A sharp pain sliced through you then, but you acquiesced. “I won’t.”

She then grabbed your Polaroid from the bed. It was Namjoon’s idea to bring it to the campfire once he heard you brought it on the trip. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah,” you gulped, regarding the old piece of the past with heavy eyes. Seokjin confessed to you with the help of that camera. You weren’t okay with the mere idea of touching it. “Yeah, it’s fine. I want everyone to enjoy themselves tonight, so. Yes.”

Even if that meant you suffered. This was Seokjin’s last trip with everyone, not just you. Why keep them from making good memories just because you were a walking dark cloud?

You reached the bottom of the rickety stairs, the squeaky noises catching the attention of the boys. Most of them raised their bottles to you, but you caught Jin staring at the fire instead.

If you got through this night in one piece, it would be a miracle.

Namjoon stood as you and Rin settled into your seats. “Okay. Since we’re all here now, I say we start.”

As everyone gave their cheers, the eldest just looked confused. “Start what?”

“Something for you,” Yoongi explained, his body already comfortable in his Adirondack. “Since you aren’t joining us for these anymore.”

“Ah, yah,” Seokjin protested, “You don’t need to do anything—”

“Don’t lie, you already love this,” Jimin cut in, all smiles despite the companion bruises and cuts on his face to Jin’s. “Although, your opinion may change in a second.”

Jungkook paused his leg bouncing to shout, “Let hyung explain!”

You smiled as the group settled, but noticed that Jimin was looking at you strangely. You didn’t have time to process it, though, since Namjoon headed things off while a bottle rested against his chest, “Jin-hyung. We just want you to know that we’re proud of you. Even though we may not see you for awhile, you’ll be in our hearts and on our minds. Starting tomorrow, you’re already Dr. Kim to us, so I say we all call you by name tonight.”

Laughter and claps filled the air, drowning out Seokjin’s weak protests.

Namjoon cleared his throat to calm the air, and you watched small flakes catch in his hair as he continued, “We’ll each do two things: give you advice, and ask for advice. Since you’re clearly educated, we figured you’d have a lot to say.”

“Oh, I’m just lucky.”

“And keep sharp, everyone. Miss Photographer over there will be taking pictures.” Namjoon nodded at you, and you gave a short smile while holding up the Polaroid. You were fine doing this; behind the lens was your safe space.

The boys and Rin slowly got through their questions and advice, and you were shocked by how insightful Seokjin was being. You never truly realized the magnitude of his intelligence. Every person around the campfire hung on his every word, and it didn’t help that you all took a swig after every good point he made - many, many times. You diligently fired away on your camera, making sure to get Seokjin with everyone so they could all have a moment captured with him.

When Jimin’s turn came, he shot you a glance before looking at your ex. “Jin. That sounds weird to say. Jin-hyung.” He looked at the ground before continuing, and you knew it was to compose himself. “My advice to you… Sorry,” he buried his head in his elbow for a brief moment. Yoongi looked away.

“I kinda gave you advice already,” Jimin trudged on, “And you took it. So, my next piece of advice would be to, uh, keep going.”

You were rooted to your chair. Seokjin didn’t spare you a single glance during that exchange, but you knew it was about you. It had to be how he ended up at your door earlier. He even said Jimin was the one responsible for his wounds.

“Thank you, Jimin,” Jin replied. “As for my advice to you, it’s okay to let people figure things out on their own. You don’t have to put it on yourself to be the one that keeps people together. If something ends up breaking, you’re going to think it’s your fault.”

Jimin regarded him with watery eyes before nodding and wiping his freezing tears. And when he looked your way, he saw you only looking at Seokjin. Your face was slowly cracking, and the shadows in your facade were exacerbated by the flames.

It was your turn; everyone else went. The Polaroid felt like a boulder on your thighs.

You blinked before setting the camera down and clutching your bottle. Since Seokjin was on the other side of the fire, you had to stand to see him, your tenseness on full display.

What could you possibly say in that moment that he wanted to hear? That he was willing to listen to? You were certain you took his heart and slammed it into the ground earlier. It would be better if you just didn’t say anything.

“Seokjin,” you started, pausing to collect yourself. “My advice to you is to forget the advice I gave you before.”

Several pairs of eyes looked at you then. Even Jin finally regarded you, the most aware of what you were referring to.

“What I’m trying to say is: it’s okay to give up sometimes, because not everything that you want to happen is going to happen. There will be times you will just have to let things go. And that’s okay. Because maybe letting things go would end up for the best.”

Jimin’s eyes bore into your soul. He sat so still that it put all the statues throughout history to shame.

Seokjin grabbed his bottle with both hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Interesting advice.” His eyes danced as they took in the warm flames. “I might even follow it.”

Both of your lungs threatened to give out at his words. Your hands almost dropped the glass you were barely clinging to, but you never looked away from Jin. It was as if your attention was chained to his body, your soul weighed down by his earlier confession and now his possible break.

If he followed your advice, shouldn’t you be happy? It’s what you wanted in the end, right? You would let him go, and he wouldn’t look back.

Snow drifted onto everyone’s chairs and the fire crackled in front of you. A small breath left you in a wisp of white. Warmth did its best to help you, but the cold was too strong. No amount of fire in the world could melt your icy conscience - you truly left Seokjin in the dark. He practically admitted that he loved you, and in return you gave him nothing. Of course he would consider your advice.

“But I like the sound of not giving up. It has a ring to it that exists beyond the sound it makes when someone says it,” he cut himself off, the silence deafening. Inside, bells rang in your head. What was he implying? Seokjin’s voice was as clear as blue skies when he continued, “So, I guess I’m stealing your advice and giving it to everyone here.”

Your gaze shifted to the side as everyone turned towards Seokjin. This was something you weren’t prepared to digest. Settling back down into your chair, you tried to even out your breathing and neutralize your shaking fingers.

Your feelings were warring with each other in a confusing battle. If you wanted him to follow your advice, why were you relieved when he said he liked not giving up? Did that mean you hoped he still waited for you? Years and years and years from now?

“Take it from me: don’t give up,” he advised. “But what I mean by that is to not give up until you’re happy.”

Guilt squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your lids down. He was going to wait. Love was the one thing he wanted to be happy. And you held your love for him tightly in your hands, behind your back and hidden from sight.

But even still, in the midst of your silent rejection, this man wasn’t letting go. Without saying the words, Seokjin was going to wait for you. Because he still loved you.

This was too hard.

“To being happy,” Jimin boisterously cheered, startling everyone and causing your bones to rattle. His glass remained high in the air, and everyone joined in with their own proclamations.

“To being happy,” you whispered alongside the others, quickly taking a swig.

Yoongi was the next one to pipe up as he declared, “Okay, now that all that’s done, let’s just drink for fuck’s sake.”

Amongst the laughter and “thank god”s thrown about, you quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was your lifeline. You needed more than liquid courage to get through the rest of the night. The camera by your feet was snatched up by Jungkook before Taehyung could get to it, and you prayed to every higher power that they kept it in one piece.

As everyone made their way back to their rooms, you noticed Seokjin joking and laughing with the others like normal. It was a continuation of the rest of the night, since after the advice conversation it was nothing but fun. Your Polaroid almost ran out of film, for one, but watching everyone fight over the photos was entertainment in itself. There were digs toward Jin until he turned red, jabs thrown at Jimin’s fragile emotional state, and Rin’s warm laughter coating everything in a soft glow.

And it was a bittersweet event. There was nothing more you wanted than to capture that moment and place it in a snowglobe. The world wouldn’t interfere with your friends, and none of you would ever leave.

Seokjin was about to head up the stairs to tuck in for the night. Full of soju and stupidity, you blurted, “Leaving already?”

He stilled before turning toward you. “Oh. Yeah.” He regarded you with a look you couldn’t completely decipher. “Long day tomorrow.”

“Right,” you replied, hating the sudden hollowness you felt. Or didn’t feel.

“Well… Good night.” Seokjin tapped the banister twice before heading up, and you softly wished him good night before speedwalking to your room. You were only tipsy, so the fast trip didn’t bother you. The camera in your hands kept your center balanced the whole way back.

By some strange miracle, you kept it together the whole time after everyone’s campfire speeches. You imagined yourself as an ice sculpture, surrounded by the guests of honor. Everyone gave you a glance and thought nothing else of you. They could only see composure and poise. Only when they got closer could they see you slowly melting, rivulets of remorse cascading down your entire frame.

Rin was in the middle of her skincare routine when you entered your room. As soon as she heard your footsteps, she made a noise indicating she had something to say. The product around her mouth didn’t let her yet, though. Which meant you had to wait.

You stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, vision spinning just a smidge. This was probably a talk you didn’t want to have, but you gave your friend her podium. It was only fair. Her serious talks were few and far between.

But she didn’t have much to say when she finished getting ready for bed. In fact, she only said three sentences.

“It’s 11 o’clock,” she stated plainly, her tone indicating she was done with the calmer approach. Bluntness was more her style.

“Okay?”

“We leave at 7 in the morning.”

“And?”

“It means you have eight hours to decide how you’re going to feel for the next ten years.”

Silence.

All you could respond with was silence.

Dead air. Sober. You were sober now. In that moment, you may have held your breath for a century. Too many thoughts flooded your brain, from past memories at a carnival to future images of an empty apartment with a bed fit for one.

It was stark. Blank. There wasn’t going to be a future with Seokjin, no matter what you said.

But when Rin put it that way, would you feel better if he knew the truth? Or would you keep this idiotic stance and lock your feelings away forever?

For the third time that night, your fingers rattled. Rin took them into her comforting palms.

“Go,” she murmured, and she smiled as she witnessed you burst into the hall.

Your strides were incredibly long as you hurried down the corridor. The doors blurred on either side of your vision, the pattern of the floor elongated with your fast pace. Your camera thudded into your chest over and over. Step after step after step got faster and faster as your anxiousness bubbled into your brain. The last turn before the stairs made you skid, and you rushed up the rickety steps. Your heart was thrumming, scratching at your chest to set it free.

When you got to his door, you were certain you woke sleeping neighbors with your rapid knocking. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Nothing could possibly stop you now.

You had no plan. There wasn’t time to think. All you wanted was to see him. All you could think about was letting everything out. Eight hours. You had eight hours.

Seokjin tugged the door open, pausing mid-swing when he saw your face. He looked so beautiful. Full of warmth. Like home.

“Jinnie.”

You didn’t mean to call him that, but you didn’t take it back. You weren’t taking anything back anymore. His eyes roamed over your features multiple times, searching for any indication that this was a dream. But it wasn’t. The words finally slipped from your lips.

“I’m not following your advice. Or my own.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but you pushed on.

“I’m giving up. But I’m giving up because I can’t let you go.” When Seokjin stared at you, it was impossible to look away.

His response came out in a rush, “What are you… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you.” You huffed out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Damn it, I— I just love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

A shaky exhale left you at the look on his face. The quick descent into realization formed in the corners of his eyes, tears pooled at the edges before quickly streaming down his cheeks, collecting at the crux of his chin. Glassy orbs bore straight into your soul in search of answers, of truth. And if he wanted those answers, you already admitted the biggest one, so words were easier to come by.

“I’ve felt this way ever since our trip last year,” you started, slowly inching toward the wreck of a man. Not like you fared any better with the streaks forming on your own cheeks. “And I know it’s the stupidest thing to tell you now since you’re leaving, and we failed at long distance before, but--”

Seokjin breathed out your name, and his next words would stay imprinted in your mind forever. “I still want to try. And I’ll try as many times as you’ll let me.”

“I know. I know that now,” you whispered.

Passion and warmth bloomed in your chest, spiraling out into the far reaches of your limbs. Hundreds of nights imagining him accepting you again didn’t prepare you for this feeling. Nothing was holding you back; your walls came crashing down.

You finally broke and shielded your face in your hands, and you felt sturdy arms shield you from the world. The cruel, beautiful world that brought you two together right before he disappeared from your life again. You cried, and sobbed, and wheezed. The elation from his confession only magnified the pain of his departure.

You felt the weight of the Polaroid leave your chest as Seokjin lifted it from your neck. “Come inside,” Seokjin whispered into your hair, earning a hiccup from your chest. “Please.”

It was only then that you noticed you were still out in the hall. A small nod from you was all he needed to guide you into his room, and your throat constricted at the bags lying open on the bed.

Seokjin was already packing. Packing while thinking he was going to go through the same thing he went through last time. You felt absolutely sick. How could you even think of doing this to him? If there was a way to make it all up to him, you would do it. “I didn’t want to tell you before,” you confessed, burying your nose into his chest. “But that was wrong of me. You almost left without knowing. I’m so sorry.”

Strong, lean fingers traveled through your hair as your camera was placed on a table. The heavy clunk it made reached your ears, and a whisper followed. “I didn’t want to tell you, either. You don’t need to apologize.”

“If I told you earlier, we would’ve had more time. Now I’m just sad.”

“Look at me.” Jin caressed the back of your head, naturally lifting your gaze. His watery eyes took yours in, and he leaned forward to kiss the top of your hair. “We still have tonight, so if we’re going to be sad, let’s wait until after.”

“But you’re crying, too,” you observed, feeling slightly better from his words. How Seokjin was able to have that effect on you, you would never understand.

A light huff from him made you melt. “That’s because I’m so happy,” he confessed, softly laughing again and wiping his eyes with both hands.

He was happy. Seokjin was happy. You looked at the growing smile under his fingers, and you had no choice but to grin and join in his laughter.

Not because it was funny. But because it was unbelievable. You were able to gift him the last piece he was missing - he was finally able to find that happiness. How were you about to deny that from him? Now it seemed unfathomable.

When you looked at his hands again, you noticed there were lingering cuts. Worry washing over you, you cradled one in your palms and asked as Seokjin looked at you, “Should I take care of this, too?” Though the man had more than enough knowledge on playground injury care, you still offered because you wanted to be there for him in any possible way.

He replied instantly, “I took care of everything. Jimin, too. You saw him being his usual self earlier.”

“He said he’d give you hell if you didn’t talk to me on this trip. I didn’t think he would go this far, though.” You reached up to run a thumb along the small gash on Seokjin’s cheek, the blood drying into a deep red. “I’ll make him regret it later.”

Jin leaned into your touch, causing sparks in your skin. “Don’t,” he whispered, “He’s the reason I ended up at your door.”

You just nodded and lost yourself in the feel of his soft face. It was incredibly smooth under your fingers, even better than when you held his cheeks all those years ago. To think that this man loved you ever since then, and continued to do so until now, was unbelievable. But it was true, and no amount of words could account for how you felt about that.

Those eyes overflowing with adoration and affection were solely for you, and diving into them felt like being immersed in sunlit waters.

“Can I kiss you?”

The simple question took you by surprise, but you gazed at his lips. They only looked inviting, so who were you to deny him? “Please,” you sighed, and your eyelids closed shut at his pillowy touch.

Color sprang from your heart at his confession, but heat burst from your chest at his kiss. The moment his lips met yours, every worry wrapped around your conscience snapped in two. Vines of doubt, regret, and anxiety withered under the warmth of Seokjin’s touch. It was cleansing. Powerful. Searing.

A hand captured the back of your neck, and Jin took advantage of your gasp by dragging his tongue around the edge of your lips, a wordless plea to let him in. You gave in immediately, leaning forward and deepening the kiss, roping his tongue and eliciting a groan.

Heat rushed between your legs and you echoed his sound with a soft moan of your own. Unwittingly, your hands found their way to Seokjin’s chest and you reveled in the feel of him under the thin material of his shirt. Without breaking your lips from his, you skirted the cotton hem with your fingers.

Jin knew what you wanted, and his grin against your mouth only made you flush with desire. He broke from your lips to fully remove his shirt, and seeing his bare chest wiped the air from your lungs. You could only stare as you took in the lines of his solid build, wondering how the hell he had the time to achieve that look.

Seokjin smirked at your reaction, tossing his top and hauling the bags off his bed while you were taking time to process everything. “Do I need to charge you?”

You shook your empty head like a zombie. Your brain was currently mush, purely focused on the way his muscles rippled and slid against the confines of his skin. “No, don’t. I didn’t bring any money with me.”

Laughter erupted from the other side of the bed. After Seokjin placed the last bag on the floor, he straightened and clarified, “I meant plug you in. You seem to be buffering over there. Low battery?”

“Shut up and get on the bed,” you teased, shrugging off the coat you still had on. You didn’t even get to change since coming in from the campfire.

“Shut up and get on the bed, yes,” Seokjin fired back mercilessly as he sat on the comforter. He knew exactly how to push you. Even though you laughed, you made you way over to him and stood between his legs.

You were silent then. No matter how happy you were, his departure tomorrow was weighing on you. The time you had with him was short.

You wanted to make the most of it. Bringing your hand up to his face, you made sure to lightly skim over his gashes before mapping the rest. You wanted to ingrain every curve, every dip, every feature into memory. Every second was precious. The polaroid you had of him would still be no match for the real thing. If only you could capture the warmth of someone and keep it frozen in time.

Sure fingers clasped your hand, and Seokjin softly pulled you closer. Your first instinct was to rush in and hug him for dear life, and he immediately did the same to you, snatching the breath from your lungs and tugging tears from your ducts. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent and lamenting all the time you spent worrying over the smallest things.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Seokjin whispered, squeezing your heart.

“I know,” you choked. You didn’t have much else to say.

“I just want to make sure we use it to do what you want.”

You loosened your hold on him, astonished by his consideration. The growing bulge under his pants was more than screaming his wants. You felt it ever since the first kiss. But even still, he wanted to accommodate you. Your needs before his.

It just made you fall for him even more.

Reaching down to skim your fingers along his cock straining against his pants, you hovered your lips over his neck. “I want you,” you whispered before descending upon the smooth expanse of skin and earning a groan.

Without warning, Seokjin tightened his arms around you. In one smooth motion, he effortlessly lifted you to straddle his thighs. You didn’t have time to think as he followed up with grabbing your head, pulling you down for another heated kiss. Your fingers latched onto his shoulders, scraping them when he thrust his tongue into your mouth.

“Don’t do that yet,” he grunted, and you didn’t need to ask why after feeling a twitch in his jeans.

You obeyed for the time being, cupping his neck with both hands. When you rolled your body against his, the hard feel of his stomach made you whimper. It was when you settled back on his hardness that your eyes widened. You were sure he was aching despite his silence. Maybe you could help him out a bit. “Jinnie,” you whispered, a firm hand on his chest, “Lie back for me.”

“I love hearing that again,” Seokjin admitted through a content smile, starting a fire across your cheeks. He leaned back after giving you another peck, and you plucked yourself from his thighs to take your shoes off.

But time was your biggest motivator to strip most of your clothes at that moment - not just your boots. Your pants were first, followed by your sweater, and finally your shirt. The whole time, Seokjin stayed propped on his elbows, watching you intently. He couldn’t hide the adoration in his eyes even if he tried. As he watched you stand there in nothing but your set, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you whispered in return. “Still not as great as you, though.” You started unbuttoning his jeans before he could defend his stance, and he lifted his lower body to help you shrug them off with his underwear. When Seokjin’s thick cock sprung free, your heart jumped at the sight. It had been so long since you felt it, tasted it, rode it. Was he thinking the same? Taking his velvety length in your hand for the first time in a long time, you felt a burst of confidence at its familiarity and his response.

“Baby,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Please.”

You didn’t need another word. At the sound of the familiar pet name, you already started hovering over his cock, admiring how pretty it was before diving in. Licking around the head, you used the slick to glide your mouth far down his shaft, rolling your hand along the bottom to coat the rest.

Seokjin jolted at the sudden pleasure, and you felt a pang in your heart. You wanted him to remember this night. And you were much more experienced than you were before, though you would only get so much time to prove your growth.

Coming up for air, you used your hand to gather the rest of your spit and slide it down his cock, rubbing it a few times before diving down again. The stilted, garbled noises coming from your filled mouth were even getting your own underwear soaked, but they weren’t a match for Seokjin’s. His delicious grunts and moans sent you close to the edge. They were deeper than you remembered, and he wasn’t one to shy away from showing you how turned on and pleasured he was feeling.

The prominent veins of his cock were the roads along which your tongue traveled, and you made sure to love them all in between stuffing him fully in your warm mouth. He was so big, but you wanted to take every inch, tears welling in your eyes with your efforts.

You fought through even when you felt him rock the back of your throat. Seokjin took that moment to sit up, causing tears to leak fully down your cheeks at the deeper thrust. His hands dove into your hair, but he didn’t force your head down. Instead, they tugged you off his cock, and he gazed down lovingly at your wrecked expression. Jin’s voice dipped an octave and came out coated in sin as he asked, “Can you go a little more for me, beautiful?”

Your body tingled on instinct. You nodded and, when he smiled, you gripped his drenched dick in your fingers before descending your mouth onto his balls. Seokjin bucked his hips forward in a jolt as you grinned, lapping at his salty skin and delighting in the tremulous groans rolling down your back. Your hand squeezed the tip of his shaft before you straightened again, taking his cock captive without pause.

“Shit,” he grunted, his long fingers diving into your hair. His hands still didn’t push you down further, oddly, so you took the initiative and plunged down yourself.

The feel of his cock in your mouth was so familiar. It was almost second nature how easily you sucked him off, knowing when to hollow your cheeks and pull him further down the abyss of ecstasy. When to sink further and hum, ripping a delicious sound from his throat. Even when to bob and swirl your head around, effectively shutting down his ability to function.

It was then that you chose to really bring it home. You breathed through your nose as you took more and more of him in, even after you couldn’t breathe anymore. You felt your nose hit this pubic bone, and the long moan you got from Seokjin was worth the burn in your throat. His fingers tightened around your head, but when you came up gasping for air he didn’t stop you.

“Come here,” is all he said, tugging you up to straddle him again. A trail of saliva swung from your lips as you came up, but you paid it no mind. If anything, it added to the building lust inside your bones. Your panties were absolutely drenched by now, so dragging your core along Seokjin’s cock caused both of you to twinge. “Fuck,” he gasped, fueling your heat.

“Jinnie, please,” you whimpered, your voice hoarse. You wanted everything from him at once. You were getting impatient, and the overwhelming time pressure was stressing you the hell out. “I need you, please.”

Suddenly, everything stopped as Seokjin cradled your chin and swiped the spit from your lips. “You have me,” he assured you. “You have all of me.” He kissed your nose. “And you’ll have me for a very long time.”

Relenting, you leaned into his touch. “Now is what I’m concerned about.”

“I know,” he agreed before kissing you again. “I just wanted you to know the rest.”

“Okay,” you whispered before capturing his full lips with your own. When you felt him wrapping his arms around you, your heart leaped into your throat. When you felt him shift the both of you to lower you onto the bed, you already knew fresh tears were waiting behind your eyes.

With great care, Jin slipped your underwear off your smooth legs. Your bra was deftly unhooked next - not without an eyebrow raise from you and a wink from him - and tossed from the bed.

Staring at your naked form, Seokjin appeared completely lost in thought. It got to the point where you felt like covering yourself, but when you attempted to he swiftly denied any insecurity. “Don’t keep this from me,” he whispered. “I want to remember everything.”

You kept it together until then. Something in you broke and you softly choked on a cry. So he was thinking the same as you. This was the last night for a long time.

Starting from your shoulder, he kissed his way down along your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Taking one breast in one hand, he swirled his tongue around the nipple of the other. You gasped from the sudden burst of pleasure, which made Seokjin repeat the motion on the other side. He then lightly sucked on the nipple, releasing it with a small pop.

You wanted to close your eyes and lose yourself in the waves of pleasure he was giving you, making his way down your body. But you wanted to relive this night again and again. So you had to keep your eyes on him. Only him. His mouth’s searing heat as it kissed along your stomach, and the stark cold left behind when he moved on. His soft touch as he gently pried your legs open, and dark, lust-filled eyes as he stared at your dripping entrance. You wanted to remember the way he kissed along your legs, nipping in some places to make you gasp. The way his beautiful lips connected with your heat in a reverent kiss before his tongue explored inside. Each flick of his tongue, squeeze of his fingers on your legs, noise from his lips. How you loved him through every second of him worshipping you.

As soon as he brought his fingers up to caress your folds while sucking on your clit, you had to stop him. It was too much. You wanted to feel him when you broke.

Seokjin wordlessly obeyed as he crawled above you. You pulled him down for a kiss, not caring how he tasted. Your hands then went to his shoulders as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Are you still…”

“Yes,” you nodded, touched that he remembered. “I’m still on it.”

“Okay.” He swooped down to capture your lips, and when you clenched your fingers around his shoulders, he grunted. “Are you okay to take it all?”

“Go slow. For now,” you said, earning a nod. “It’s been awhile.”

Seokjin’s gaze was heavy as he prepared himself. “Same.”

At the initial push, you whooshed out a gasp. It had been way too long since you’d been with someone. The intrusion indeed hurt. Maybe you should have let him prep you more, in hindsight. But Seokjin was nothing but tender as he waited for you to adjust. Once you were okay, he steadily pushed out and in again, going deeper. Slowly but surely, you were able to fully take him in.

And the feel of him completely inside you was nothing like you’ve felt before. It was comfort. It was home. It was a perfect fit, and you wanted to stay like that forever.

“God,” Seokjin groaned, “I don’t want to leave this room.”

You chuckled, rolling your hips. “Hmm, pussy or Harvard. That’s a pretty tough one.”

“If it’s yours, Harvard can wait,” Seokjin grunted before sending your thoughts spiraling with a huge thrust. You outright whined at him, but he pulled out only to spear you again with one long motion. “You still like it rough, baby?”

Chills cascaded down your spine and pooled at the apex of your toes. This was the Seokjin you were waiting for. You wondered if he was still into that after witnessing everything he was doing for you beforehand. But oh, were you ready for the pivot. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned. “You know I do.”

“You still have your word?”

“Carousel, yes.”

“Good girl.” That was all Seokjin needed. Grabbing the top of the headboard behind you, he launched into a rough and relentless pace that had you seeing stars. You felt so full, yet so weightless as you let your body go limp. The feel of Seokjin’s cock slamming into you repeatedly would continue to exist for months after tonight, the ridges of it sliding along your walls never forgotten entirely. You needed as much as he could give, and he knew that.

Gripping one of your legs, he hauled it over his sweat-slicked shoulder and tilted himself to reach a deeper position, twisting his reddened face to plant kisses on your ankle. Mewl after mewl tumbled from your lips at the deep thrusts.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Jin commanded while still pounding into you, and you wouldn’t dream of disobeying. Your fingers went straight for your jiggling breasts, teasing your nipples and tugging them for his blown out eyes. You moaned, and smirked when you saw Seokjin beginning to lose himself.

His tell was his scrunched eyebrows, and his eyes shifting down to watch his cock ram into your tight cunt. You still knew, after years.

You fell into complete ecstasy when he reached down with his free hand to rub your clit between your bodies, loving the way the veins in his arms protruded. Imagining licking along them all made you moan. And you didn’t care if the people around you heard. All of your mewls, moans, whines - they were all for Jin. He could have all of you again and again.

After one particularly deep thrust, he tugged his cock out, leaving your walls fluttering around an agonizing emptiness. “Turn around. On your knees.”

“Holy fuck, yes,” you rasped. He wasn’t letting the night go to waste at all.

Before you even assumed the next position, you felt a hand come down on your ass. The smack jolted you forward in pain, with pleasure settling in its wake.

“So pretty,” Seokjin whispered, ghosting his hand over the spot he spanked. He gave it another smack before gripping your ass cheeks apart. You assumed he was roving his eyes over your drenched core. “And still so wet.”

“Just for you,” you affirmed.

“Just for me,” he repeated before adjusting his knees on the bed to get closer. “But you might be too loud tonight, baby. I’m going to need silence from you this time.”

Shit. You were never, ever good at this part. But you nodded. What you weren’t expecting right away was the initial stroke to be rough, right down to the hilt. You cried out immediately, earning you a harsh spank.

Seokjin’s sudden laugh made you chuckle in embarrassment. He breathily joked, “Out of practice?”

“Something like that,” you admitted, your elbows and grin lost in the sheets. “I’m rusty.”

“Okay, let’s just do this then.” Jin leaned forward, stretching over you. You groaned at the feel of his solid chest on your soft back, your eyes rolling into your head feeling him completely mold into you for a moment. He got a fluffy pillow from the other side of the bed and let your head rest on it. “Can you bite this for me, my love?”

The new name spread wildfire across your face. “Yes. That I can do,” you assured him. When you had the material securely in your mouth, you nodded to signal he could continue.

“Good girl.” And continue Seokjin did. He went right back into the dominant Jin he loved being, and the one you loved being with. There was no mercy in his thrusts, stroke after stroke after stroke. If you lifted your back a little or lowered your butt, he smacked your supple flesh and corrected you instantly. “Ass up, baby.”

With Jin’s relentless pace, your body went limp and hung on by a thread. Loosening up allowed for even more of his cock, and your muffled moans started getting louder the closer and closer you got to the edge. You could feel your core tightening, threatening to unleash the pent up tension.

“That’s it, beautiful,” Seokjin praised, feeling your walls squeeze around him. “Do you want to come like this?”

You hastily shook your head. You wanted to see him when you came. And if you remembered correctly, he loved seeing your face when it happened, as well.

“Too bad,” he chuckled darkly, and you almost came undone right then. “Guess you’ll have to come again the way you want to later.” Reaching under you, he toyed with your clit as he kept the pace from behind.

You let go of the pillowcase as you kicked your head back in a moan, your saliva trail slowly gravitating toward the sheets. Seokjin only let you breathe for a second before pushing your head back down into the thin material. “Make noise again and you won’t come at all.”

Fuck. You bit hard into the pillow, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself losing control. His fingers felt divine on your bundle of nerves, his dick sliding through your folds over and over and over. The hand he placed on your head smoothed over your hair before bunching it and tugging. You reared back, dots swimming in your vision. “God, I want to choke you. Can I do that, my love?”

You released the pillow from your mouth again. His consideration was top notch tonight. Too much? You couldn’t decide or really care. “Yes, just do it. Do anything. Please. I’m so close.”

“Mm. Then cover your mouth.” Before you could follow his command, Seokjin pulled you up by a shoulder to be flush against his front. Sweat coated your back and your ass, causing you to slide down his chiseled stomach while speared on his cock. A strong hand wrapped around your throat, and the fingers that were teasing your clit mercilessly now ventured into the front of your folds.

One of your hands shot up to clamp over your mouth right before you let out a long groan. You loved when he took control, and when he lost control. If both happened at the same time, it was heaven.

You could barely last on your knees as his dick slammed up into you repeatedly. The hand around your airway was tight but only just, his praises in your ear being the real culprit of your stolen breath. Your pussy clenched harshly around his length, and you knew from the tight coil in your body that you were seconds from euphoria.

Seokjin felt it instantly. “Come, baby.” And as soon as he relinquished your throat did you give in, waves of pleasure coursing through you and a white burn shimmering in your lungs. It seemed endless. Ripple after ripple thrummed through your body, your joints slowly unlocking from their initial freeze. Behind you, Seokjin groaned and sang sweet nothings in your ear, his arms wrapping around your chest in a scorching embrace.

The high ebbed, but did not completely recede. You knew Jin still needed release, so you kissed his wrist next to your shoulder and whispered, “I want to see you now.”

“Whatever you need.” Seokjin slowly unsheathed himself, and you felt a slight pain. You watched as he positioned his back on the headboard. He knew what you wanted to do.

You made your way over to him and hovered over his length. Locking your hazy eyes with his dark set, you kissed him lazily as you languidly sank back onto him. Seokjin groaned when you didn’t use your hand as a guide beforehand. And frankly, that turned you on, too.

“You’re so tight still,” he grunted, his hands coming up and grabbing your ass before settling on your hips.

You rolled your hips before finding a rhythm. “You’re just big,” you mock complained, earning a deep chuckle.

“Aww. You sound. So. Sad,” he teased, thrusting up into you to punctuate each word. Your mewls were welcome now since he was done with his role. Now he could just sit back and enjoy your show for him. And occasionally torture you.

You found your rhythm again, rougher with him now with your hands in his dark, sweaty locks. One of your hands dropped onto his chest and raked down his breast, eliciting a higher moan than normal.

The sound caused heat to pool between your legs again, and you upped the pace. Your thighs burned from the exertion, but you kept yourself distracted by diving into Jin’s neck and nipping in multiple places. His arms left your hips to wrap around your back, and your breath faltered as he took over again.

Seokjin was close. He was always close when his limbs locked hard into place. His upward thrusts were fast and hard, and you could only moan in his ear and take him in. The coil that released once tonight was tightening again, and you murmured in his ear that you were close.

Seokjin only needed to kiss you like his life depended on it for you to unravel again. The wave was weaker than last time, but it could still cover mountains. Your head felt light, dancing above the clouds with no intention of coming down. You pushed yourself from his lips, allowing him to see your flushed chest and reddened cheeks. The second orgasm faded and loosened your limbs, but your heart felt completely connected to his, your soul nestled into the comfort of his tender embrace. “I love you,” you sighed, and you immediately felt a huge twitch between your folds.

“Lie down, baby. I’m close.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cradling his cheek. “Come inside me, Jinnie. I wanna feel you.”

“Shit,” he grunted. His thrusts descended into madness. Your heart rattled at the sight of his dusted red cheeks, sweaty neck, heaving chest. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and the one you would overturn stars to find should you ever lose him again.

When he gazed down at your joined sex, you took in the wet strands of hair on his forehead. When he kicked his head back against the headboard to look at you with lidded eyes, you bit your swollen lips. This wonderful man was your lover, your ex, your friend, and now your lover again. Only this time, you truly loved him back. And you wanted to think back to this moment forever.

Tears sprung into your eyes as he pulled you in for a searing kiss, and his orgasm released into you in spurts. The thrusts he made then were slow and powerful, and your body bobbed with the swells. You kissed him harder than necessary, almost willing to bruise your own lips on his. The longer you held his lips captive, the longer he couldn’t see your sorrow.

But Seokjin already felt the drops ping his chest. He just let you cry because that’s what you needed. Even when he broke from the kiss, he never said a word. He trailed kisses along your wet cheeks, your sweaty nose, and your glistening forehead. His poignant visage held nothing but stars, and it reminded you of the night you fell in love, crushing your spirit ever more.

Touch after touch after touch only coaxed more tears from your eyes. It felt never ending as you sat spent in his lap, still on his softening length. Sheer willpower was what caused you to finally speak, your voice hoarse, “We should clean up. You still need to pack and sleep.”

“We should, and I do,” he whispered. He patted your bum. “Can you get up by yourself?”

You nodded before extracting yourself from his firm thighs, lamenting the fact that human bodies had limits. As you waddled to the bathroom, you stumbled along the way, Seokjin softly chuckled while following you and steadying you when needed. Even when you shot empty glares at him, the smile in his eyes never left.

The rest of your time spent in his room consisted of silence and kisses. Ever the gentleman, he let you lie down on his bed while he used the other half for the bags to pack. It didn’t take him too long since he was organized from the jump, so when he was done he cleared the bed and joined you under the covers. When you felt a weight on your stomach, you looked down to see your camera dumped on the comforter.

Seokjin wrapped a strong arm behind your neck. “What do you call naked pictures taken with a Polaroid?”

“Oh, no.” You turned your head to face him. “What?”

“Just pictures. But that’s old nudes.”

You punished him by attacking his sides instantly, yanking a batch of honky laughs from him. Knowing your own weaknesses still, he unleashed his own parry, and it took a minute for the both of you to settle in a draw.

“Don’t tell me the only reason you brought this into the bed was to tell that horrid joke,” you chuckled, your head back to resting in your pillow.

“Nope. I wanna take one of us.”

After getting past all seven of your objections and excuses, Seokjin whittled your walls down and got you to agree. The end product existed on the last film in your Polaroid: a crooked snapshot of him kissing your cheek as you smiled with creased eyes, sheets held against your chest. And he conceded in letting you keep it after watching you clutch it lovingly in your fingers.

You immediately sought comfort in his embrace after setting the photo next to your phone on the nightstand, and he stole multiple kisses from you way after your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.

“Get some sleep, my love,” Seokjin whispered.

And despite your sound of protest, you were pulled into the abyss of sleep right as you felt pillowy lips caress your forehead.

Rin-Rin [6:40am]: You’re lucky I love you. I packed your stuff and left out an outfit for you when you come down. Just don’t be late or I’ll drag you back down myself :)))

Jiminie [6:45am]: RISE N SHINE LOVEBIRDS

Rin-Rin [6:46am]: Oh, yeah, I may or may not have texted Jimin.

Jiminie [6:46am]: ABOUT TIME

Jiminie [6:46am]: !!!

Tae [6:47am]: jimins scream woke me up. i can only assume that means ill get to be an uncle soon. dont let me down i want this(:

Joonie [6:48am]: Aaaaaaaaaa !!!

Jiminie [6:48am]: And I know you want to yell at me for yesterday so I am ready for that whenever you are

Kook [6:50am]: <3

You smiled at your texts before locking your phone. Seokjin was already up and about, making sure everything was packed and accounted for. When he saw you stirring, he came over and surprised you with a kiss so deep that it revitalized your sagging emotional state. “Morning,” you chuckled, swinging your sore legs out of the sheets and wincing at the cold. “I need to head back down.”

“Yeah, Rin already sent the first round of threats. I’ll see you at the car, okay?”

You pecked him on the cheek after you slipped on your boots and grabbed your Polaroid. Stepping into the hallway, you kept reminding yourself to not completely lose it yet. There was still a whole car ride you got to have with him, and you were determined to slow down time however you could.

Your phone buzzed again, and you assumed Yoongi and Hoseok were just now waking up and getting the gossip. Checking your notifications only validated your guess.

Hobi [6:52am]: AHHHHH HAPPY FOR U~!!!

Hobi [6:52am]: ASLSKDJSKDHSKDJ

Yoongi [6:53am]: I’ll make sure to drag him back sometimes. It’s ludicrous to say that we’d never see him again. Drama queen. Anyways, happy for you. If you need anything, let me know.

Hobi [6:53am]: we’ll see seokjinnie again love. and if u miss him a lot then we can make sure you see him. im sure he’ll be missing u too

How you were able to win the friend lottery and meet these people, you had no clue. But you weren’t going to ever question the fact. All you would do was embrace your blessings and love them.

The car ride to the airport was long, but still much too short for your liking. Between the loving gazes you directed at Seokjin as he sang along to Taehyung’s music, the looks full of mirth Jimin gave the both of you from the backseat, and the laughter of both Rin and Taehyung, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time.

Throughout the ride, you got the feeling that you were going to be okay. Seokjin was starting an insane adventure, but you were also going to be there every step of the way. Not just on the polaroid he decided to stash in his bag, but in his heart and on his mind like Namjoon said around the fire.

There were still plenty of ways to see each other and communicate. And since he technically didn’t start until next summer, that gave you plenty of time to see him before then. The many possibilities made you question your hesitation in the first place.

But none of that diminished how much of a struggle it was still going to be.

When the car rolled to a stop in the airport parking lot, your chest constricted. When everyone got their bags out of the cars and started the trek to the shuttles, your hands shook on your straps. As soon as everyone started saying their byes and separating to check into their airlines, you found it hard to breathe.

But a tender hand brushed through your hair, and plush lips connected with your forehead. In an instant, you felt okay again.

Seokjin’s calm voice slipped over your features. “Your flight leaves in two hours, right?” When you nodded, he continued, “Okay. Come shop with me before I have to go to my gate!”

You tried your best to keep a positive attitude while you watched Jin peruse different airport stores. When he would hold stuff up for you to approve, you would smile or dramatically turn things down. Even the cute neck pillow he really wanted got the dreaded rejection.

But that was only so you could pay for it when he wasn’t looking and surprise him. The huge laugh and grin you got in return was worth the trouble.

When it was time for Seokjin to head to his gate, you brought him in for a crushing hug. “Let me know when you land,” you demanded.

“Of course, honey,” he said through a smile.

“‘Honey,’ now?” You regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “You have so many nicknames for me. I can’t keep up. Do you have a favorite you could stick with?”

Seokjin rested his chin on your head. “Ah, I have a favorite. But it’s not true yet, so I shouldn’t use it.”

A fire ignited in your heart, the flames warming you from the inside. “And which one is that?”

“Would you look at the time!” Jin’s body heat left you in a rush as he stepped away, and your instinctual pout made him laugh outright. He cupped your chin for a kiss that rocked your whole being before pulling away. His eyes held galaxies in them when he stared into yours. “Guess you’ll have to wait for the answer to that one.”

“You’re a jerk, Jinnie,” you huffed, but you kissed him again. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am. And I love you,” he responded. His hand came down to squeeze yours before he had to part. “I’ll let you know when I make it. Call me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, and you watched his long strides with a heavy heart and a hopeful mind.

As you told yourself again and again, you were going to be okay. It was going to be tough, it was going to be absolutely painful. But as long as you decided to keep loving each other, everything would work out.

You knew better than anyone that love was a choice. And for Seokjin, you would choose it a thousand times over.

And besides, the current state of technology was on your side. The possibilities of communication were too endless for you to dwell on the distance. Were there going to be days in which you only received one text? Most likely. Were there going to be weeks where you weren’t going to hear much from Seokjin at all? Definitely. But this time, unlike last time, you welcomed every bit of it. Your heart built a bridge to his that defied any sense of physical distance. On opposite sides, both of you were achieving success in your own ways. In the end, you would always come back to each other to celebrate together. Even though this was the last November trip you had with Seokjin, it was the beginning of many, many wonderful years to come.

It was later, while you were waiting for your own flight to finish boarding, that a message was sent to your phone.

Jinnie [12:04pm]: Attachment: 1 Image

You couldn’t help but grin. As you gazed lovingly at the picture of Seokjin smiling next to your polaroid, another one came in before you could respond.

Jinnie [12:05pm]: Until you’re really next to me, this will have to do. Don’t get too jealous!

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes while setting the image as your wallpaper. Locking your phone, you tapped the glass to see your screen light up, observing the picture again.

On a plane heading to another city entirely, Seokjin was doing the exact same thing. Except in his case, he was smiling down at a girl caught in mid-laughter, body aglow from the bright yellow lights of a spinning carousel behind her.

a/n: whewww so if you made it to the end, hi! i seriously enjoyed writing this and i learned so much. it’s my first fic and first huge one-shot, so if you have any comments/concerns/constructive feedback, please let me know! my ask box is always open, too. lastly, here is my m.list if you want to browse! 🌨🌨🌨 ++ feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Three: Chasing Waterfalls

a/n: Welcome back!! Another huge thank you for the sweet words and love you have shown to part 2! I'm so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story so far :') Things are starting to get interesting, so I hope you'll stay tuned! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to come chat with me after you have finished reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, drug/alcohol mention

Word Count: 5.3k

catch up on parts one and two

Alani watches the stream of salt descend gracefully into the salt-shaker like a mini waterfall, her mind still replaying the events of the past couple of weeks. It has been fourteen days, 336 hours, and 20,160 minutes since the last time she saw Harry, not that she was counting. The image of him getting smaller in her rearview mirror as she drove away from the recording studio is still fresh in her mind. Two weeks and all she has to show for it is three sentences in her notebook, most of which is material she had already known prior to the interview. Alani supposes that this fact should trouble her more than it does, with her future at Rolling Stone depending on much more than the smoothie preferences of Harry Styles; but all she can dwell on at the moment is the serene image of them standing side by side, pinkies nearly touching, making a wish on the most vibrant rainbow she had ever seen. What does concern her, however, are the events that immediately followed their arrival back at Napua.

“Maybe next time we should do this in a neutral location,” Harry had offered, stepping out of the Range Rover. “Less distractions,”

Alani’s brows shot up at the words, not quite believing that she had heard him right. “Next time?”

“You can’t possibly have gotten everything you needed from that,” he scoffed, leaning against the passenger door. Alani had fully prepared to butter him up in order to extend their time beyond the initial one interview agreement, but she hadn’t expected it to be this easy, especially after his dismissal of her attempted humor and begrudging lunch invitation.

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“Okay, so we’ll do this again,” he shrugged, “No biggie,”

Alani felt a wave of relief, and a twinge of excitement, rush over her at the prospect of securing another interview with Harry. Offering him a grateful smile, she nodded and agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, again, for agreeing to this,”

Harry’s furrowed brow didn’t budge, nor did his set jaw and pouted lips. He simply offered a small bow of his head and a ringed finger through his dark locks.

“Sure. Wouldn’t wanna be the reason you fail,”

“Thanks,” she replied through a forced laugh.

Alani had almost forgotten about the cover she devised to get Harry to agree to the exclusive. A part of her wondered how willing he would have been to participate had he known her true intentions of submitting the final piece to Rolling Stone, but the better part of her judgement knew there was too much at stake to fold her cards now. Besides, Harry had to have known that any work linked to his name would get some sort of public attention, regardless of the original intentions. At least, that was what Alani planned to say if things went south.

“So you can just... text me, I guess,” she proposed cautiously. “When you’re free?”

“Will do,” Harry nodded. “But I think that requires us to exchange phone numbers first,”

“Right,”

Alani pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and opened the contacts app before holding it out to Harry. Carefully, he punched his digits and handed it back, smirking when he was greeted by the image of irresistible watery eyes and floppy ears beneath the time.

“Cute dog,” he remarked while Alani finished typing her own number into his phone.

A soft smile spread across her lips as the image of her furry companion drifted into her mind.

“Oh, thanks. His name’s Freddie,”

“D’you name all your belongings after 70s rock stars?” Harry teased, flashing a dimpled grin.

“As a matter of fact,” Alani played along. “I’m about to go take a sip from Mick Jagger in my car,”

Immediately, Alani regretted her choice of words, though the bright ringing of Harry’s laughter soothed some of the embarrassment.

She winced, nose scrunched. “I guess there’s no taking that one back, huh?”

“Not a chance,”

Clutching her bag closer and sliding her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, Alani took a step back and sighed.

“And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Au revoir.”

Two weeks and still radio silence from Harry. Alani had begun to wonder whether she had input her phone number correctly in the first place, or if her penchant for embarrassing herself had ruined all chances of Harry making good on his promises.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want salted fries you’re gonna have to wait for your turn at the salt mound, just like everyone else,” the voice of Alani’s sister breaks through her thoughts. Somewhere between reliving her last interaction with Harry and anticipating their impending reunion, Alani’s hand had drifted slightly off course of the salt shaker, resulting in a rather impressive mountain of salt forming on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Alani retorts, annoyed at the mess she’ll have to clean up.

“Seemed like you were in the zone, or possibly sleepwalking—and you know what they say about disturbing sleepwalkers,” Pua says simply, unaffected by her sister’s irritation. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, and I was right,”

Alani sweeps the salt into a garbage can below, her mind already drifting back to her afternoon with Harry, when her sister speaks up again.

“He hasn’t called yet?”

This catches Alani’s attention, but she only shakes her head dejectedly in response.

“I thought your date went well,” Pua muses, thinking back to the way her sister had practically floated through the house upon her return.

“It wasn’t a date,” Alani corrects firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself, as well.

Pua scoffs, lifting herself to sit on the countertop. “So you made me cover a four hour shift for nothing?”

“It’s strictly professional and he’s busy,” Alani sighs. “That’s just how these things go,”

“Did he let you listen to his new music?” the younger sister asks, eyes widening.

Alani rolls her eyes and resumes twisting the caps back onto the filled salt shakers. “No,”

“Did you ask him why he left One Direction?”

“No,”

“Is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Alani huffs, turning to face her smug little sister. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him what?” a familiar accented voice cuts in behind her.

Alani whips around to face Harry, a familiar dent between his brows and dark sunglasses shielding her from the intensity of his stare.

“Ask my dad if I can go to the..movies—tonight,” Pua chimes in. “With my friends. I have those,”

Harry smirks, lifting his sunglasses up to address her. “S’that so?”

“Yup,” she confirms, popping the “p” and crossing her arms. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Curiosity runs in the family, I see,” he remarks with amusement. “Shoot,”

“Is your phone working?”

“Why don’t you go call dad and ask him about the movies? I’ll cover the register,” Alani interrupts, shooting a glare over her shoulder as her sister saunters into the kitchen with a satisfied grin on her round face.

“Ignore her, she’s fifteen,”

“The most honest age in my experience,” Harry observes with a twinge of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.

Alani pushes any thoughts about Harry, beyond the fact that he’s standing in front of her, to the side and puts on her best customer service voice. “What can I get started for you today?”

“A green smoothie, please,” he says, searching for her eyes that are occupied with the register buttons. “And the rest of your afternoon, if you’re free,”

Alani pauses and allows her gaze to meet his. She senses a hint of apology behind his emerald eyes, a welcome change to the storminess that often clouds them.

“I don’t know,” she starts slowly, despite the fact that every bone in her body is screaming at her to go. “I gotta finish up here,”

“What time are you off?”

Alani mulls his question over, silently deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Ultimately, retribution for her bruised ego is the only reason she can come up with for lying. She knows that it isn’t logical to be upset with him due to the fact that their relationship is strictly professional. Harry owes her nothing; in fact, him agreeing to meet with her the first time was, as she pointed out on several occasions, entirely a favor on his end. Despite this fact, Alani couldn’t help the disappointment she had felt the very next day when he hadn’t even texted his name to make sure that he had the right number. And she can’t help how she feels now, two weeks later, looking into his big, dumb eyes that are begging for her forgiveness. She missed him. Against her better judgment, and for reasons she can’t explain, Alani misses Harry, so she chooses honesty.

“Four,”

“Great,” he perks up, victoriously. “Then I’ll have the green smoothie, and keep ‘em coming,”

“You’re gonna stay here that long?” Alani asks, eyes darting to the 1:11 displayed on her watch.

Harry holds up a teal paperback with cassette tapes stacked on the cover. “Got some reading material to keep me company,”

“Love is a Mix Tape,” she reads the yellow cursive looped at the bottom of the cover aloud with a nod.

“Ever read it?” he questions, flipping through the pages.

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Well then you can borrow it sometime.” Harry says finally, turning on his heel in the direction of a table near the window.

Alani half expects him to leave and come back closer to their allotted time, but he simply sits near the window with the book in front of him and the straw of his drink resting against his pouted bottom lip. Customers come and go, tables are cleared, and the sunlight spills into different corners of the room, but Harry remains perfectly unchanged as if he were a fixture of the room itself. His presence is both comforting and unnerving to Alani, who glides around the room taking orders and serving food. Meanwhile, Harry does his very best to focus on the words in front of him, but the letters jumble together like alphabet soup amidst his wandering thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he follows Alani as she gracefully moves from one table to the next, flashing a warm smile at each guest who enters. He notices the tapping of her pen to whatever Beach Boys song plays over the stereo and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when making change at the register. The more details he stores in his mind, the deeper the sinking feeling burrows into his stomach. It had taken every ounce of willpower and over twenty unsent text messages to stay away, but Harry needed to put space between them for both of their sakes. He didn’t dare flatter himself with the thought of her having feelings for him, but he didn’t mind her company and that hadn’t done him much good these days. Harry knew that eventually he would have to bite the bullet and keep his word, and he decided that a temporary writer’s block was as good a time as any to do so.

“What ever happened to that girl?” Jeff had asked the evening prior, responding to an email from the recording label.

Harry feigned ignorance and continued to doodle something in his notebook, though he knew exactly who his manager was referring to. “What girl?”

“Dark hair, pretty, made you blush like a 12 year old,”

“I did not,'' Harry defended, scribbling a little more harshly. “‘S nothing. Was just helpin’ her out,”

Jeff snorted with an accusational brow raised.

“How romantic,”

“Jesus, not like that!”

“All I’m saying,” Jeff conceded. “Is that you seem a little uptight these days, and the music shows,”

Harry pondered this for a minute, his pen stilling to look over the lyrics, or lack thereof, on the page.

“You should be having a little fun, that’s literally what we came here for,” Jeff continued. “Get out of this fuckin’ studio and be a normal 22 year-old. You deserve it.”

So Harry had decided to go out, telling himself that he was merely listening to a friend’s advice for the sake of his music and sanity. But a part of him also desperately wanted to see Alani, even if he didn’t really know why.

As the clock strikes four, Alani sucks in a deep breath and turns to her sister slicing bananas in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,”

“Figured,” Pua responds, unphased. “I’ll cover for you,”

“I owe you.”

“Get me tickets to his next concert and we’ll call it even.”

Alani rolls her eyes, amused, and presses a chaste kiss to her sister’s temple before grabbing her bag off the hook and heading out. When she emerges in the dining area, Harry is already waiting at the counter with his broad shoulders turned away from her. She taps him gently and feels dizzy when he turns to her with a faint dimpled smile.

“Ready to roll?” he asks.

“Ready.”

When the two are comfortably situated in the Range Rover, Harry scans the parking lot and pulls away onto Mamalahoa Highway.

“Where’s Stevie?” he questions, his lower lip pinched between his index finger and thumb in concentration.

“Oh I walk to the restaurant,” Alani explains. “Don’t live too far,”

“Explains why you ditched your sister,”

“I did not ditch her!” Alani defends with a light laugh.

“Kinda did,”

She shakes her head in mock offense as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up. “My dad will pick her up after work, she’ll be fine,”

“Not to accuse you of nepotism,” he hesitates. “But I thought maybe your dad worked at the café. Family business?”

“He owns it, yeah, but he also works as the head chef at Honu. It’s a resort,” Alani continues. “But I’ll have you know that my waitressing skills are highly qualified, regardless of the nepotism,”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a doctor—pediatric surgeon,”

“That’s amazing,” Harry comments, glancing down at the GPS.

“Yeah, she is,” Alani agrees, her own eyes darting to the screen before attempting to analyze her surroundings. “Hey, where are we going?”

The rings on Harry’s right hand tap gently on the steering wheel as he responds carefully, withholding any hints.

“To the best interview spot I could think of. Go there sometimes to work on the album,”

“So there is an album,” Alani wiggles her brows.

“Off the record,” he clarifies. “But.. potentially,”

She scoffs at his insistence to maintain secrecy.

“Really?”

“We’re almost there.” Harry consoles, referring primarily to their destination, but perhaps speaking personally, as well. Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning and chooses to nod silently in acceptance.

The next few minutes of their drive are filled by humming along to whatever song drifts through the stereo, most notably Paul McCartney and George Harrison, which inspires a lively back and forth about the ranking of ex-Beatles members.

“It goes Paul, George, Ringo, and John,” Alani states matter-of-factly. “There’s no other answer,”

Harry shoots her an incredulous look before responding. “Are you seriously putting Ringo Starr before John Lennon?”

“John Lennon was an abusive asshole,” Alani defends. “Plus he wrote, like, one good song-”

“More than one song—”

“I said a good song. ‘Good’ being the keyword,”

Harry can’t hold back his endearment at her reasoning, so he shakes his head with a wide grin plastered on his face and decides to take one last swing at the hornet’s nest.“He’s still a legend,”

“Isn’t it weird,” Alani muses with a far-away look in her eyes. “That someday, someone’s gonna have this conversation about you?”

Harry doesn’t respond right away, weighing her words and how they settle in his bones. It doesn’t offend him in the slightest, he’s heard far worse, but there is still something strange about comparing himself to musicians he considers to be his icons. Despite all the hard work and sacrifices he’s made over the past five years, he still sees himself as the lucky little kid from Holmes Chapel underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” Alani speaks up when Harry doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” He reassures her. “I was just thinking... ‘bout what you said. I guess I don’t really think about it like that,”

“Oh,” is all she says, still waiting for him to elaborate. After a beat, Harry begins again in his characteristically slow way of speaking that Alani finds charming.

“It’s just that,” he begins, tugging on his lower lip. “Obviously I can’t ignore, you know, the impact that all of it had. But to me it was just… I don’t know. In my head it’s not really on the same level,”

Alani nods, though she can’t say it’s with complete understanding. In this moment, she truly feels the weight of their completely different worlds and how she may never be able to fully sympathize with that part of Harry’s life. She certainly hadn’t been under any impression that she would, but she still feels a bit embarrassed for the closeness she had begun to feel to him in their moments spent together. A sinking feeling settles into Alani’s stomach at the thought that maybe she was making a mistake, despite the constant self-reminders that everything they were doing was completely professional. Don’t get too close, she writes on a mental post-it note, sticking it to the forefront of her mind.

“We’re here,” Harry pipes up.

Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Alani hadn’t noticed when they pulled into the parking lot at ‘Akaka Falls and it took her a moment to adjust.

“This is the place?” she questions hesitantly.

“Yeah,”

“This is where you come to write?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay chained to the studio,” Harry teases with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“No,” Alani breathes out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know what I expected.”

“That was the point.” he explains with a devious smile that makes her let out a proper laugh.

************

“Did you know,” Alani starts, the tips of her fingers reaching out to stroke the petal of an especially vibrant red flower. “That Georgia O'Keeffe had a show in New York City during the 40s with twenty paintings of different flowers that she observed right in this very park?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admits. “Who needs a tour guide when we’ve got you?”

“I have a copy of the waterfall one she did in my room,” Alani continues. “But I’d love to see the real thing some day,”

Harry scans the landscape, eyes settling over the winding stairs that lead them further to the falls and the rest area where he frequently hides away. “Is it still on display?”

“Last I checked, yes,” she nods. “At the New York Botanical Garden,”

“How are you not even a bit winded?” he chuckles, hands on his hips as he pauses and takes a moment to breathe.

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry with a teasing glint already present in her deep brown eyes.

“I thought you came here all the time to write,” she says with a raised brow.

“And I thought it was against the journalist code to berate your subjects,” he shoots back. “But here we are,”

“Touché,” Alani concedes. “But I’m not a journalist yet so I guess the rules don’t apply to me,”

Harry thanks his lucky stars that she turns on her heel back down the steps before she can witness the fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He savors the image of the greenery that complements her olive skin and how the gentle breeze dances through her curls before following behind.

Alani takes a deep breath once they reach the lookout and soaks in the familiar view. No matter how many times she visits the national park, the first sight of the 442 feet of cascading water always leaves her eyes a little misty.

“What brings you here?” she asks, turning to Harry whose sunglasses are perched at the crown of his head to leave the view unobstructed.

His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he turns his head to Alani and searches her face with a crease between his brows.

“That,” he responds, pointing to the glossy sheen over her eyes. “That feeling. Felt it the first time I came here, still do,”

He turns back to face the roaring water before them and Alani takes this moment to study the sharp angles of his profile. She takes note of the sunlight peering through his sea glass irises and waits patiently for him to continue.

“Makes you feel lucky to be alive,” Harry says finally. “And a little small, but in a good way. Like everything bad that ever happened to you doesn’t matter because none of it’s real, is it? But this… this is real,”

Alani feels like the air has been sucked from her chest and her eyes burn a hole straight through Harry’s temple. He doesn’t budge, despite the overwhelming urge to face her again, because he knows that if he does, he’ll lose his nerve.

“Damn,” is all Alani croaks out when she finally catches her breath.

Harry’s stony expression falters as he cracks a small, relenting smile. “D’reckon that’s what TLC were on about when they wrote that song?”

“I think you’re on the right track, yeah,” Alani agrees with a light laugh. “Though I think they were talking a little bit more about drugs, but I like your thing too,”

“Thanks,” Harry smirks. “Now you see why I come here to write,”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” she concedes.

“Speaking of writing,” he starts, walking away from the lookout and over to a rest area with a few tables and benches. “I think we were here to help you write,”

Alani follows and takes a seat on the bench across from him, the setting sun beating against her back and outlining her in golden light that Harry feels couldn’t be more poetic.

She retrieves a notebook, her phone, and a pen from her bag and sprawls them out across the table top. Harry notices that each item is colored a varying shade of pink, but he decides to keep that detail filed at the back of his mind instead of investigating further.

“Same deal as last time, voice notes for quotational accuracy,” Alani reminds him. She looks over her list of questions to pick a starting point, but suddenly none of them seem relevant, so she takes a moment to collect her thoughts and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Earlier when I said this wasn’t what I was expecting,” she begins. “You said ‘that was the point’. Why?”

Harry turns this question over in his mind, caught off guard by the seemingly trivial detail. “I dunno. I guess.. Maybe I just like the surprise,”

“To be surprised, or to surprise others?”

“Both,”

“Why do you like to surprise others?”

He ponders this for a second and takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because it doesn’t happen that often,”

“What do you mean?” Alani prys.

“Well,” Harry begins carefully, sifting through his brain for the right words. “Ever since the whole band thing blew up, I’ve had this strange feeling that everyone knows everything about me, like there’s nothing left to discover,”

Alani watches as he twirls the ring around his wedding finger, a silver rose that has always caught her eye.

“Maybe that sounds self absorbed,” he simpers.

“It’s not,” Alani reassures him.

Harry meets her eyes appreciatively before resuming. “I still remember the first time someone recognized me,”

“What was that like?”

“Bizarre,” he chuckles to himself. “She was very nice, but the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it all was. It’s like, you know when someone you met once or twice comes up to you and you don’t remember their name at all? S’bit awkward ‘cos you feel like you should know something about them, too— level the playing field. ‘Cept no matter how hard you wrack your brain, the information’s never gonna come, even though they know everything about you,”

“But they don’t,” Alani cuts in. “Not really,”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, his eyes narrowed. “But sometimes they feel like they do, which might be worse,”

Alani taps her pen against her bottom lip and nods, a gentle hum leaving her throat as she registers his words.

“Didn’t think about it like that,”

“S’not so much about the fans,” Harry continues. “Because I feel like there’s lots of things I wanna share with them through the music. It’s… everyone else, I guess,”

“I don’t think it’s abnormal to want your privacy,” Alani comments. “To want to share things on your own terms. It’s human,”

“But isn’t that what it means to be loved?” he asks, chin resting in his palm. “To be known?”

Alani picks up on a glimmer of challenge behind Harry’s eyes, as if he is the one conducting the interview and trying to extract information from her.

“There’s a difference between knowing something about someone,” she argues. “And knowing someone,”

“It’s like Prince,” Harry says suddenly, an excited fire behind his emerald eyes. “Who knows anything about Prince besides the fact that he’s a fuckin’ great musician? I sure as hell don’t, but all you wanna do is know more, and that’s what makes him so magical. It’s mysterious… I like that,”

Alani snorts and looks up from her notes scrawled on the page. “Did you just describe Prince like your manic-pixie dream girl?”

“No,” Harry defends with an amused laugh. “Well, not intentionally anyway,”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a wave of her hand. “No, I know what you mean. It’s like keeping the rock-star persona separate from your real life, makes it all more alluring,”

Harry nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out before securing his sunglasses back at the top of his head. “Yeah,”

“But earlier you also said you wanted to share some things with the fans,” Alani begins again, going back to her chicken scratch notes. “What kinds of things were you referring to?”

“Real life stuff,” he offers. “Mostly the not-so-great things. ‘Cos I mean no one wants to hear me sing about going to bars and how great everything is. The champagne popping,”

Harry trails off as his fingers smooth over the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

“I mean, I don’t wanna hear my favorite musicians talk about that, at least. I wanna know ‘how did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?’”

The wind begins to pick up more noticeably and the pages of Alani’s notebook flutter wildly, threatening to escape. Too wrapped up in their conversation, the pair hadn’t noticed the dwindling tourists or the cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Harry squints up at the darkening sky and it peers back at him with equal contempt . He springs to his feet, quickly gathering some of Alani’s things for her.

“We gotta go,”

They quickly scurry and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance quickens their pace up the steps. The adrenaline coursing through Alani’s veins masks the burning in her quads and calves, but Harry’s steady panting gives away his exertion. They’re almost halfway up the long trail of steps when another thunderclap pierces through the sky above them and sends a jolt through their bodies. One speckle of rain hits the pavement in front of Alani’s quick feet, and then another, and another, until the sky opens up and they are caught in the downpour. Alani shrieks and the sound makes Harry belly laugh, a hand instinctively reaching out to the middle of her back to brace her.

“Careful,” He calls out above the deafening rain. “Watch your step!”

Somehow over the sound of the rain and her own heavy breathing, Alani still manages to come up with a witty remark.

“Imagine the headlines!” she shouts over her shoulder. “‘Popstar Lures Innocent Civilian to Her Untimely Demise’,”

Alani doesn’t say anything about his palm still pressed securely against the small of her back, but the warmth of it spreads through her fingers and toes. They continue up the steps, each breathing a sigh of relief when the top is in sight. Harry reaches out for her hand when they make it to the landing, and she accepts it gladly, before they bolt to the parking lot where the lone Range Rover is parked. Once inside, a fit of laughter erupts from the both of them.

“What a cliché,” Harry comments. “Getting caught in the rain,”

Alani sighs. “Too bad we don’t have piña coladas,”

“We could maybe do something about that,” he shrugs.

Alani reaches for her phone and queues up the next song, which brings a cheshire grin to Harry’s face when he hears the familiar drums.

“Wasn’t what I meant, but okay,” he rolls his eyes, turning up the car’s heater before heading back out onto the highway.

“This song’s kinda fucked up when you think about it,” Alani muses, swaying in her seat. “But the chorus is fun,”

“S’all that matters when you’re sloshed,”

“Sorry about your seats, they’re gonna be soaked,” Alani apologizes as her wet socks squelch around in her shoes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves the concern away. “Occupational hazard.”

The drive to Alani’s house from ‘Akaka Falls is only 25 minutes and the two of them spend most of the time lost in their own thoughts, letting the car heater soothe their chilly bones. Alani watches the rain droplets race down the window pane and turns over some of Harry’s words in her mind. His comment about the waterfalls sticks out like a shell emerging from the sand. She begins to think that it perfectly captures this time in his life as he searches for something real amidst the chaos of fame. It’s an angle she’s keen to run with once she has the time to sort through her notes and write, but her thoughts also drift towards the waterfalls in her own life that she’s been chasing. Naturally, she thinks about Rolling Stone and what she hopes New York City will bring her. Adventure, she thinks at first, digging deeper when that doesn’t quite suffice. Success, getting warmer. Purpose, bingo. Alani sinks into her seat with a contented sigh.

“Piña coladas,” Harry hums once they’ve pulled up to Alani’s driveway. “Next time, we’re definitely getting piña coladas,”

Alani isn’t as surprised by his suggestion of meeting up for a third time, though it still sends her heartbeat through the roof. She tries not to think too hard about the implications.

“On you,” she teases.

“Of course,”

“Thanks again,” Alani says, turning to face him. “We covered a lot of material today,”

Harry flashes a shy smile in response. “Sorry ‘bout...your clothes. I should’ve checked the weather,”

“Occupational hazard,” she shrugs, mirroring his words from earlier. “So I guess I’ll just see you around then?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, suddenly aware of her proximity. “I mean are we still doing this—the interviews?”

Alani stops smoothing out her damp waves, feeling as if she had overstepped. “If that’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry reassures her. “I’m available—I mean for your writing I’m—”

He stumbles over his words and Alani eases the slightest bit knowing that he’s nervous, too.

“Just let me know, whenever.” he says finally, regaining his composure.

“Will do.” she nods slowly.

Alani’s eyes dart to Harry’s lips briefly, lingering just long enough that Harry notices, but too quick for him to justify closing the gap. Before he knows it, he’s missed his chance and she’s slipping out of the car, closing the door with a sense of finality that makes his stomach drop.

Alani makes her way up to the house, gravel crunching under her feet and head pounding.

Don’t get too close, she reminds herself. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #solo harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #one direction #harry styles fic #harry fic #ybmh #it's getting real smirk emoji

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famedroleplayarchive · 3 years

Photo

As promised, here’s an admin update post. This addresses several topics you all probably knew were coming and might have been waiting for the answers on, as well as some other topics, additions, and changes! Please take your time to read this thoroughly, and thanks again for four years of Famed! There’s a lot here, so take your time reading it.

URL change

The main blog’s URL has changed to famedroleplay. Some links are still being updated, but if you notice anything still links back incorrectly after a week or so, please do let me know!

Faceclaims

After hearing out the opinion of everyone who shared theirs regarding banning faceclaims involved in bullying scandals and taking that into consideration, face claims will be banned if they are linked to outside crimes or severe such as sexual assault, molka, or bullying in connection to suicide / suicide attempts. This means the initial ban on actor Kim Jisoo and April members Kim Chaewon, Lee Naeun, Yang Yena, Lee Jinsol, and and ex-member Jeon Somin remain in tact.

Bullying allegations not linked to these outside factors will still be grounds for someone to be allowed to ask to change a faceclaim before their faceclaim change waiting period is up, though, if they are uncomfortable continuing to use a faceclaim because of bullying allegations. If a faceclaim leaves the industry and/or removes themselves from the public eye for the foreseeable future for any reason, they are also still unusable, but this rule was already in place.

As for how this will affect parts of the roleplay other than faceclaims, please see the section further down about Element. Two April songs (”Oh My Mistake!” and “Love Clock”) were previously used for the first season of base’s COLLA3ORATE. These will be retroactively replaced with Elris’s “Jackpot” and “Like I Do” respectively, but if you had a muse involved in “Oh My Mistake” and would prefer to remove them from COLLA3ORATE season one entirely, just message me and they will be removed. I assigned the lines trying to match the positions and line distributions up similarly, but if your muse was involved and you’d like to keep them in “Jackpot” but want to switch to an untaken position, you’re welcome to request that as well. Otherwise, any references to that can simply use those songs instead now.

Element update

Due to the recent allegations involving Somin, a major revamp of Element has had to be conducted. After discussing the situation with the current muns of the group, the past model discography of Element has been replaced using Checkmate, K-Tigers Zero, and Lucky J, and they will be making their final comeback on April 12. After those promotions end, Element will be disbanded and the members will re-debut later in the year in a boy group, Quicksilver, with model groups of Ateez and Treasure and a girl group, Marigold, with model groups of BVNDIT and Melody Day with two new members each. The Element spots have been reopened, but the new positions in the new groups won’t be opened until after Element have finished promoting. This will be a major plotline for the roleplay and Gold Star in particular so expect to see it brought up in schedules and in some articles on the Exclusive blog as the storyline unfolds.

The new debuts in Quicksilver and Marigold will be available on May 13.

Fuse’s model discography update

Thanks to everyone’s suggestions, I was able to find two groups to add to Fuse’s model discography that I felt could align with their sound, direction, storyline, and positions enough to be happy with for now. These groups are Cherry Bullet and Weki Meki. The updated line distribution can be found on Fuse’s page.

There are other groups I’m looking into adding onto the model discographies of, but Fuse was the most urgent, so they’re the only official update I have today!

Canon soloists

Ultimately, after the poll, more people voted to remove canon soloists than to keep them, and they are officially being removed from the roleplay.

Those discographies previously used for the soloists will begin to be open for points claims at midnight/12AM EDT on April 12.

With the removal of canon soloists, the plan is to allow a solo music career to become a more prominent claiming option, and there are plans for some additional claim options to become available in relation to such a career, but those will be added and addressed at a later time.

As for storylines linked to some of the soloists, this is how those will be retconned:

BC Soloist 1: Instead of BC signing and debuting a known Gold Star trainee, BC hired a high profile creative director from Gold Star known from working with Gold Star since their inception and had worked on some of their most defining comebacks and announced she would be taking over as one of the company’s main creative directors. She has since worked on conceptualizing several group’s comeback as well as most heavily on Chroma’s pre-debut project.

Dimensions Soloist 3: Instead of Dimensions buying out a small and brand new company created by a crew of popular music producers with one soloist who they transferred to their label, in early 2020, Dimensions bought out a music production company that was created by a top music production team with several rising producers signed with them and made the producers in-house producers for Dimensions. Since then, the new producers have helped to produce several hit Dimensions songs since.

While Gold Star Soloist 1 no longer exists as an IU stand-in, Gold Star still had an incredibly popular and loved NPC soloist as one of their first artists that helped give their name prominence. At the beginning of 2021, she announced her departure from the agency to create her own label, citing her reasoning as feeling she needed a more focused environment than Gold Star’s growth could provide. There are rumors she was alluding to dissatisfaction with Gold Star’s recent management and gossip that Gold Star was pushing for her to pursue activities in overseas markets she wasn’t interested in.

Anyone who had a feature or MV appearance claim on a soloist can contact me and let me know whether they’d like to just drop the claim (and, if a points claim, recollect those points), keep it as a claim in an unspecified work, or try to replace it with something else. The following muses had claims this applies to:

Features:

Cha Kyonghwa (Kami) (app claim) Kang Sunghee (app claim) Park Jaewon (points claim, 10 points) dropped! Choi Joosung (Sun) (points claim, 10 points) Moon Chaeyeon (Dita) (app claim) Park Duri (points claim, 10 points) kept as unspecified!

MV appearances:

Kim Kyongmin (Alice) (app claim) Ryu Jaein (points claim, 5 points) dropped! Seo Minjung (points claim, 10 points) points reclaimed! Moon Chaeyeon (Dita) (app claim)

Points shop updates

There have been a few updates to the points shop!

Firstly, the nation’s title claim checklist now requires a headcanon on the muse’s image and how it relates to their claims and career to be completed. This is just so I can see a mun’s own intentions for how everything ties in with their image. This headcanon shouldn’t focus on the title itself since that isn’t ever guaranteed for approval, but the muse’s general image as the mun has shaped it. The viral moment requirement for a nation’s title is now also specified to need to relate to the image involved in the desired title.

In the wake of canon soloists being removed, I’m planning on being a little more strict regarding music claims aligning well with positions.This applies to both individual songs and whole discographies. Still, the intent is to be reasonable. Chungha having a rap-like verse in “Bicycle” won’t require someone to have a rap position to claim it since it’s not a lot of the song and she’s not known as a rapper, but I also wouldn’t approve a muse whose most prominent position is main rapper or a main dancer making their entire discography IU releases since IU is primarily a singing-focused artist.

There used to be a rule requiring that muns seek admin approval before claiming songs written by deceased artists, but that rule has now been removed. Keep it respectful, though, please. If any issue arises with muns breaking the fourth wall in relation to these songs to be disrespectful about a real person’s passing, that claim may be revoked and the rule may be reinstated. Songs performed by deceased artists still cannot be claimed.

There’s also a new claim available — a YouTube variety show or talk show. Please see the variety page for examples and more information, but note that this is separate from both a reality show claim. I’ve tried to specify the difference, but if you’re ever unsure which one what you want to claim would fit into, feel free to ask! Both will now be uploaded in-’verse to base’s Youtube Channel. Likewise, there has been a small change so that future radio show claims are now through base Radio, a radio streaming application (think Naver Now).

Company building pages + Pinterest

I’m currently working on pages that give more detail on the layout of the company headquarters. They aren’t quite finished yet, but I have created a Famed Pinterest account for those of you who find more muse visually or who are into visual worldbuilding! One of the sections on the boards there gives a rough idea of company building visuals. There are group concept boards as well, so if you’re struggling to decide where your muse might fit, looking at those might help you if you’re more of a visual person. No one is required to follow it and I won’t be answering messages or anything of the sort there, but I thought it might be a helpful way to visually convey locations and concepts! I’ll make a small post to let everyone know when the pages with in-depth information on the company buildings is available.

Activity rules updates

I mentioned there’d be a few more touch-ups to the activity rules to fill in loopholes that have been around a while, so here they are.

- There is now a formal hiatus request form that must be submitted to request a hiatus. Simply sending the main an IM that you want a hiatus will no longer qualify as a valid request and it will not be processed.

- There will no longer be a week-long grace period after a hiatus ends. You are responsible for being active for the next activity check after your hiatus ends.

- The maximum length of a hiatus is now three weeks (and the minimum one week). The initial hiatus request maximum is still two weeks with one week extensions, but extensions may not be stacked to exceed three weeks total without a passed activity check in between. If you can’t be around for a longer period of time, it might be best to rejoin at a later time when you’re more available! In total, a mun is allotted a maximum of four weeks of hiatus over any twelve week period.

- If a muse reaches three activity warnings in a month, they will be automatically moved to the unfollow list on their third warning instead. If a muse is removed and refollowed three times over the course of six months, they will not be able to be re-followed again and will have to re-apply.

New points opportunity

As of this post going up, muses may now collect one point for every first closed thread with a new muse after it has reached ten posts. This will no longer only apply during events and the ten post requirement is new. Members should be interacting with new muses all the time, not just during events, so it felt right to adjust this accordingly. This applies only to threads started after this post goes up.

Chroma

As schedules have been made quarterly, all remaining Chroma roles will be made available for reserves and applications in at midnight/12AM EDT on April 12.

Suggestions + Feedback

I want to end off this post by reminding everyone that I’m always taking suggestions for events, tasks, etc! I plan on opening an official suggestion submission blog at some point down the line, but I’m happy to take suggestions through the ask box or submit if you have any. I’m also open to feedback as well. If you do send in either of these things, please specify if you’d like a reply from me, since sometimes I might be naturally inclined to keep a message simply giving a suggestion or idea without any questions instead of responding to it.

Thanks for reading this very long update! There are more additions to the roleplay in the works, some I’ve hinted at here and some I’ve not, but I hope Famed’s fifth year is able to be its best one yet!

#fmdadmin #queued post

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karajaynetoday · 4 years

Text

everybody's got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming | part one

Photo credit: Jess Gleeson

Hello friends! Hope you’re having a lovely day wherever you are in the world. Thank you to everyone who voted in my little Google form thing on what they’d like to see me write next. Here’s Part One of my 5SOS x music journalist story. It’s a little angsty, and as the first chapter this is a lot of introduction to the OC and her story, but I hope you like it! It’s the first time I’ve written an OC into a fic, so I’d love to know your thoughts and if you’re interested in reading more about Lizzie and her adventures interviewing 5SOS.

Shout outs to @wheniminouterspace and @calumrose for helping me sense-check this concept, and @spicycal for giving me feedback on it in its draft stages. You’re all gems!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Fem!OC, minor swearing

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Lizzie Lawson was having a bit of a day. Her train had been late, she dropped her coffee moments after receiving it from the cute barista downstairs (and broke her favourite keep cup in the process), and her work computer had decided to run updates the moment she sat down at her desk. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Her colleagues were tapping away at their keyboards, answering phone calls, and discussing upcoming story ideas with each other - the usual tasks, especially for a Monday morning. Lizzie, computerless and caffeine deprived, had to settle for a cup of instant coffee from the kitchenette, and had taken to tidying up her desk while her computer was restarting over and over again but still somehow not ready for use. She was on the floor, sorting through the snacks in her bottom desk drawer (crackers that were two months’ past their expiry date, some gummy worms, and what seemed like hundreds of cans of tuna) when James, the music editor, stuck his head out of his office and called for her.

“Lawson! Where are you?” James sounded confused. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Lizzie at her desk moments ago, and then suddenly she popped her head up like a meerkat.

“Jimbo! Here. What’s crack-a-lackin?” Lizzie responded, standing up and brushing herself off as she headed towards where James was standing in his office doorway.

“Got a pitch for ya. Step into my office, if you’re finished with your spring clean.” James chuckled as he stepped back inside and sat down on the couch opposite his desk.

A number of journalism awards were displayed on the shelf above the couch, and the floor to ceiling window overlooked Sydney’s CBD and its tall, grey buildings, with a glimpse of the harbour ocean in the distance. Lizzie had to admit she’d imagined herself in James’ desk chair more than a few times; the music editor of one of Australia’s leading youth and pop culture publishing companies, regularly travelling the world to interview award-winning artists, and assigning and guiding well-crafted investigative pieces on the entertainment industry and those within in.

But, in reality, Lizzie had only recently worked her way up to being in the music department, after a couple of years on the news desk and a series of casual internships at different publications around the place. But music journalism, and the passion she had for live performances and watching artists grow and develop their sounds and aesthetics over their careers, was where Lizzie had always wanted her career to go. She was grateful to James for having her on the team, but she also knew that he didn’t recruit just anyone - so her writing must’ve been strong enough to get her here. James was a good boss, salt of the earth, always had his team’s back, but he was also a little mysterious, and this morning’s meeting was one of those where his face was giving absolutely nothing away as Lizzie joined him on the couch in the office.

“So, what’s up?” Lizzie said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Well, Lawson. You’ve only been on deck for a few months, but turns out my gut instinct about you has paid off. That profile you did on the 1975 last month has gotten some good feedback and traction out and about.” James spoke in a measured tone, pulling his laptop off the coffee table and opening it.

“Oh! Well, that’s… good, right?” Lizzie still couldn’t figure out exactly why she was in James’ office. Or why she was so nervous.

“Correct, it is good. It’s been great to see you come into your own a little bit, and develop your interview style. I also really appreciated you stepping in to cover the Matt Corby interview for Hannah the other day, when she had that stomach bug.” James continued, seemingly searching for an email or something on his laptop as he spoke.

“No worries! Hannah’s notes were really thorough, plus I definitely had a Matt Corby phase when he was on Australian Idol back in 2006! Oof, that fringe, you know?” Lizzie cringed internally when she heard herself starting to babble.

James snorted, before clearing his throat. “I’m sure Matt was glad the 2006 hairstyle didn’t take up too many words in the final profile piece. He was pretty happy with it though, and his management were too, according to the label. So happy, in fact, that they’re requested you to profile another one of their artists.”

James had Lizzie’s full attention now, and she still couldn’t read his expression. “Really? Me? Who’s the artist?” She asked, trying not to get too excited too soon.

“Yes, indeed, you. 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5SOS. They’ve got a new album due out in a month or so, and their publicist is keen to fly you out to LA for a few weeks to follow them around while they wrap things up in the studio, and do a profile piece on their journey to date. Are you familiar with their stuff? They’re offering us an exclusive, something about the album being linked to their homeland or something, so they wanted to go with an Australian media outlet first.” James set his laptop back down on the coffee table and angled it so Lizzie could see an email on the screen that had a few lines of text and a photo of a band onstage.

5SOS. Was Lizzie familiar? Oh yes, she was familiar. Lizzie Lawson hailed from the western suburbs, and 5SOS was the area’s biggest success story. Aussie boys made good, with millions of albums sold, billions of song streams, thousands of concerts played all around the world, that was their career to date. But for Lizzie, 5SOS were always a bit closer to home. She’d attended the same high school as three of the band members, and Michael Clifford was someone she called her best friend, once upon a time. Ashton had also befriended Lizzie’s older brother Lachlan when they’d worked together at KFC. That was years ago now, and they’d all fallen out of touch, because sometimes that’s just the way the universe works. You grow up and you move on and you don’t keep the same friends, because sometimes they move to the other side of the world and get super famous as successful musicians. Or something like that. Even if they know your deepest secrets, or biggest fears, or hopes and dreams, or you trust them more than anything, sometimes they still leave you.

Lizzie’s previous state of intrigue quickly became panic, because what if she wasn’t actually being chosen based on the merit of her work? What if the 5SOS team knew about her connection to the band, and were going to use it to manipulate her writing in some way? What if it was all a ploy to get her and Michael in the same room so he could finally call her out on what had gone down between them all those years ago? What if -

“Lawson! You on planet earth still, or wait?” James snapped his fingers in front of Lizzie’s face to get her attention. She shook her head to clear it, and wrung her hands together in her lap.

“Yep, I’m familiar with their work. A little fuzzy on the most recent work, but I have a bit of knowledge on a lot of their early stuff. And Youngblood, of course. Everyone knows Youngblood. ARIA song of the year, a billion streams, etc etc.” Lizzie spoke, meeting James’ gaze as he cocked his head at her curiously. He knew Lizzie had a tendency to get a little nervous when she was put on the spot, but there was something about her right now that was a little more unsettled than usual that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Good. Well, if you’re down, the label will cover three weeks accommodation in Los Angeles. Labels don’t usually do that kind of thing, but their manager is super keen for you to get enough quality time with the band to build up a solid profile piece. We’ll cover your daily expenses, I’ll send you instructions for the claiming app, and then we just need your passport to get the flights booked. Sound okay?”

“Y-yep. Yes. Okay. Right. When would I be leaving?” Lizzie pinched her thigh through her jeans to double check that she wasn’t dreaming, and that yes, this was actually happening.

“Friday midday. We’ll put some feelers out in LA, and see if there’s any other interviews you can do while you’re there, but your focus will be on 5SOS because they’re picking up the bill for your stay. But that being said, don’t let that sway what you write. They’ve requested you because they like your deep, detailed, open style of profiling, so don’t be afraid to ask some curly questions to get the answers that will craft the right piece, you know?” James spoke firmly, looking pointedly at Lizzie who quickly nodded in response.

“Right, well, I’ll cc you into this email chain with their publicist and manager, and we’ll go from there. You can hand over your other pieces to Hannah, you’ll need to spend the next few days prepping for LA and doing whatever research you need to feel ready. You’ve got this, Lizzie. I know you can do a great job.” James was trying to be encouraging, as he stood up and opened the door to his office, but Lizzie’s heart was pounding with nerves and she barely hear his words.

She walked back to her desk in a daze, and Hannah had to literally poke Lizzie in her side to get her attention and ask what James had said in the meeting. A few excited squeals and a bear hug later, Hannah was off and running talking about lists of things Lizzie needed to organise before her international adventure was due to begin in a few days’ time. Lizzie, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe it. What the fuck was happening?

The next few days flew by in a haze of emails, life admin, last minute shopping trips and a lot of deep breathing on Lizzie’s part, and before she knew it, she was wrangling her suitcase out of an Uber and into the international terminal at Sydney Airport. Lizzie, as a generally anxious person, had arrived the full three hours early for her flight, but her parents had treated her to a flight lounge guest pass (because they wanted her to know they were proud), so she was able to deal with her nerves by eating far too many complimentary croissants and hash browns.

Soon enough, the time to board the plane arrived, and Lizzie was grateful that she ended up in an empty row of seats, by some miracle. Praise be to the airline gods, or whichever higher power had decided she’d be able to at least try and get some sleep in the next fourteen hours. She’d set her phone and watch forward to Los Angeles time, so she could try and adjust her body clock accordingly, which meant that she’d have to stay up for a few hours at least.

Lizzie tried to be productive, and tapped away at her research notes on her laptop for a little while, before she found herself opening up the band’s instagram page in her browser. The four men staring back at Lizzie through the screen seemed a million miles away from the gangly, excitable teenagers she’d known all those years ago. There was an interesting intensity about them in the photograph, steely gazes and defined bodies under carefully selected clothing, but there was also a peacefulness in their poses beside one another. Like being together, in this moment captured minutes before heading onstage, was the most natural thing in the world. Lizzie found her eyes drawn towards Michael; his dirty blonde hair swept across his forehead (not dissimilar to the style he’d had in their high school days, to be honest), and it was accompanied by some scruffy facial hair and a dangly cross earring in one ear. His grey-green eyes seemed to peer right into her soul, and Lizzie involuntarily shivered at the thought of seeing him again in person in a day or so.

She was still anxious about whether or not this entire thing was a scam, but nonetheless, she was going to try her darndest to be a consummate professional, and write the best profile story of her life. In her research, Lizzie had reviewed some previous 5SOS interviews, and she’d cringed her way through their Rolling Stone interview from many years prior. She remembered reading it at the time it was published, unable to believe some of the words attributed to the boys she’d once called her friends, and the intense aftermath that followed. Understandably, they’d avoided in-depth profile interviews since, so Lizzie was incredibly curious as to why they’d changed their mind. Why now? Why her? She closed her laptop and drifted into sleep, curled up across three airplane seats and tucked under a thin blanket.

Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were stiff when she awoke, an hour or so before her flight was due to land. She used the in-flight wifi to check her emails quickly, and noted a new one from 5SOS’s publicist Danielle, which welcomed Lizzie to Los Angeles and explained that she should catch a taxi to her accommodation at the address listed, and that she should give her a call once she was checked in. Right. That seemed straight forward enough.

LAX customs were intimidating as ever (god, Lizzie was so nervous), but Lizzie made it through without incident and was able to quickly make her way into a cab with a driver who seemed familiar with her accommodation address. They drove her to a boutique-looking hotel, and when Lizzie checked in and made her way up to her room, she was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was. A queen-sized bed, a good desk for working at, a nice view from her balcony of the Hollywood Hills, a small kitchenette with a fridge and microwave, and a glorious bathroom that had a very enticing bath tub in it (Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were already thankful for the idea of being able to soak in some nice hot water for a while).

After checking the room for serial killers (better to be safe than sorry, right?) Lizzie had a quick shower and changed out of her travel trackies and oversized hoodie into a pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a blazer, before opening up her phone and scrolling down to Danielle’s contact. A few deep breaths were required before Lizzie built up the courage to press “call”.

“This is Danielle!” A cheery American accent answered on the other end of the line.

“H-hi Danielle, this is Lizzie, from Junkee Australia. You said in my email I should give you a call once I was all checked in, and I am, so…” Lizzie found herself giggling nervously and facepalmed.

“Lizzie, of course! How was your flight? Long and boring?”

“Yep, that about sums it up!” Danielle’s enthusiasm made Lizzie feel like she had to perk herself up a bit in conversation.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gagging for a nap, but we’ve got to get you adjusted to the timezone so we can make the most of your time here. I’m just finishing up something in the office, but I can swing by your hotel in about 45 minutes, and we can go over your story pitch and the band schedule for the next few weeks, and figure out your interview time slots and other things you can go along to observe, if that works for you?” Lizzie could hear Danielle’s keyboard clacking as she spoke.

“Sure, well, you have my number now, so just text me when you get here. I’ll try my best not to nap in the meantime.” Lizzie’s somewhat dry response got a laugh out of Danielle, who agreed and bid her farewell, ending the call.

Placing her phone down on the bedside table, Lizzie looked around the hotel room that was set to be her home away from home for the better part of the next month, and spotted a coffee machine on top of the mini fridge. If she was really going to keep her no-nap promise, caffeine was definitely in order.

True to her word, Danielle arrived at the hotel within the hour, and soon Lizzie found herself sat beside Danielle on a fancy couch tucked in a corner of the hotel lobby. Danielle had opened up her laptop, and also pulled a plastic folder of documents out of her tote bag.

“Okay, so… I’m sure you’ve done your own research, but here’s a few hard copies of the band bio, album press release, and a few other tidbits from the label, along with a hard copy of the band schedule. It’s all confidential and coded, the electronic version I’ve emailed you will have the proper locations for everything, but I thought a print out might be handy anyway. The boys are recording some stuff at the studio Calum has at his house tomorrow, so I figured we could introduce you there and then after that figure out what else you’d like to get done. There’s an industry showcase for some of the new songs at the end of the week, and then they’re doing various promo and album prep things, finalising mixes, photoshoots, etc, so there’s a bit of variety for you. Any initial thoughts on how you want to do the interviews for your profile?” Danielle rattled off, gazing at Lizzie expectantly when she finished speaking.

Lizzie blinked at her a few times before collecting herself. “In my research, I found it really interesting to hear the band and some of the fans talking about how 5SOS has evolved into the collective effort of four individual artists, not just the band as one artistic music entity, so I was hoping, if possible, to interview them individually, as well as observing them as a group. Would.. Would that be okay, do you think?”

Danielle pursed her lips, before breaking out into a smile.

“I think that sounds exactly like something the band would be willing to do. Damn, Matt Emsell was right - you do know your stuff.” She chuckled, handing the folder of documents over to Lizzie and pulling out the schedule that was on top.

“So studio at Calum’s tomorrow from 10am, I’ll swing by and collect you so we can do introductions, I’ll stick around for a bit just to make sure you’re all good but otherwise I’m just going to let you do your thing. The band have been doing this for long enough now, they don’t need their publicist hovering.”

The curiosity was killing Lizzie. She couldn’t not ask.

“Danielle, I’ve got to ask this, sorry. Do the band… know me? Know that I’m the one coming to interview them?” Lizzie managed to get out, avoiding eye contact.

“What do you mean?” Danielle cocked her head to one side, clearly confused at the question. “I sent them the Matt Corby piece you did, and they liked that, so that was one of the reasons we asked you out here. So they’re familiar with your work, if that’s what you’re asking?”

“No, um… oh god, I’ve made this super awkward now.” Lizzie laughed dryly, wringing her hands together. “I mean, I know them. Personally. Or at least I used to. I’m from Sydney, and I went to school with Luke, and Calum, and… Michael. So I was just wondering, um, if they realised that it was me and that was part of why I was asked to come to LA for this…Not really sure why that would make them choose me, but I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page before tomorrow.” Lizzie finally dared to look up at Danielle, whose expression was unreadable.

“Hmm, well, that is interesting. As far as I know, that wasn’t a factor at all. We all genuinely liked your writing style, so whether or not the boys made the connection, I have no idea. They’re not super keen on any irrelevant personal life stuff making it into this piece though, so if this is going to be a problem for you, we should deal with it now.” Her tone was slightly less warm than before, and Lizzie could sense the protective publicist side of Danielle kicking in.

“Definitely not a problem. I entirely intend to be fully professional, and like you said, my writing will speak for itself. Just wanted to put it all out there. Not a problem for me.” Lizzie spoke up, willing herself to sound more confident than she felt.

“Good. We have no problems here then. I’ve got to run, but text me with any questions, otherwise I’ll see you at 9.30am tomorrow for the drive to Calum’s!” Danielle’s tone was nice and bright again, as she shut her laptop and gathered her belongings, patting Lizzie’s shoulder in what she assumed was some sort of attempt at calming her nerves.

It didn’t work though. Not a problem for Lizzie? Bullshit. Not a problem for 5SOS, and Michael in particular? Seemed unlikely.

Lizzie was worried she’d have a restless night’s sleep because of her overwhelming anxiety about the next day’s reunion, but the exhaustion from her travelling overtook her and she almost slept through her alarm. A quick shower and a shot of espresso later and Lizzie was downstairs waiting for Danielle to pick her up to head over to meet the band.

“Morning! How’d you sleep?” Danielle chirped as she rolled into the car park, her car window down.

“Very deeply, thank you! The room is really comfortable. Thanks again for organising.” Lizzie mentally urged herself to keep up the small talk as a way of hiding her nerves.

The car ride over was mostly quiet, but when they pulled up outside of what Lizzie assumed was Calum’s house, she definitely felt like she was about to vomit.

“Just so you know, I flagged our conversation last night with the band. About your pitch around the individual interviews, and also about your little… connection to them. Ashton didn’t seem to think it was a problem, so it should all be fine.” Danielle mused, as she opened her car door and hopped out. All Lizzie could do was nod, because her throat was dry and she was starting to panic. She blindly followed Danielle through the front gate and around the side of the house to a building in the backyard, Lizzie strained to hear what sounded like raised, male voices floating towards them as they approached. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t entirely sound positive.

Danielle knocked loudly on the door and shot Lizzie a reassuring smile, before the shouting subsided and it swung open. Calum Hood stood in the doorway, and Lizzie sucked in a breath. It’d been eight years, maybe more since she’d last seen Calum, and even then, had they spoken? She couldn’t remember.

Calum smiled at Danielle, and then his eyes flickered over to Lizzie, not quite carrying the same happiness, but not entirely losing it either.

“Morning, ladies. Welcome to casa di Calum, come on in.” He spoke with that scratchy, deep voice of his that Lizzie had reacquainted herself with when watching hours of interviews during her research.

Danielle stepped passed Calum into the room, and she indicated for Lizzie to follow, which she did. Lizzie could feel Calum’s gaze on her as she brushed past him, but the minute she stepped inside, any sense of warmth or welcome she’d felt before vanished.

Luke and Ashton were standing over by the sound recording panel, turning to look at Lizzie and Danielle as they entered. Lizzie thought she saw a hint of a smile on Luke’s face (they had survived Year 8 Maths together, after all… that had to count for something, right?), but Ashton was unreadable.

Entirely obvious, though, was the look of bitter disdain on Michael Clifford’s face when Lizzie finally spotted him hunched over on the couch along the wall. Those grey-green eyes were staring her down with a harsh glare. It had familiarity about it, Lizzie realised, but not in a good way.

Danielle cleared her throat in the silence, and turned to Lizzie.

“Well, I believe introductions might not be required, but in the interest of professionalism and courtesy - “ Lizzie didn’t miss Danielle’s pointed glance towards Michael, who was still scowling silently towards everyone - “Lizzie Lawson from Junkee, I would like you to meet Calum Hood, Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings and Michael Clifford, also collectively known as 5 Seconds of Summer or 5SOS.”

Lizzie waved, and then immediately cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward. She received a nod of recognition from Ashton, and small smiles from Luke and Calum. From Michael, more scowling. This was going to be a long three weeks.

“So, Lizzie, why don’t you go through the pitch for the profile that we discussed yesterday? The boys already have a bit of an idea, but I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.” Danielle was being overly encouraging, but it worked, and Lizzie took a deep breath before speaking.

“Thanks, Danielle. And thank you to you guys, honestly. I know this is a little strange for all of us -”

“Fucking oath it is.” Lizzie heard Michael mutter under his breath, but she continued, undeterred.

“But, I’m really excited to have the opportunity to interview you and pull together this story. Especially on behalf of the Australian music media. I know they haven’t always given you the recognition you deserve, but I think this piece is a chance to overcome that. Anyway, the specific pitch I’d love to go with is reflective of you as individual artists, as well as the collective band group. If it’s suitable, it’d be great to have the chance to speak to each of you one-on-one as well as a group, to give a holistic view of your journeys as people and as musicians and what you’re trying to achieve with this album. So… yeah…” Lizzie trailed off nervously, clenching her hands at her sides.

“I love it. We’re happy you’re here, Lizzie. I really loved the Matt Corby piece Danielle sent us, and like you said, it was really important for us to have the perspective of an Australian journalist for this story and where we’re at right now.” Ashton’s calm voice broke the silence, as he nodded at Lizzie in agreeance. Luke and Calum nodded too, and Lizzie tried not to look towards Michael because no doubt he was still glaring at her.

“Great! Everyone’s on the same page. I have to dash off to a meeting, but Lizzie has my number if she needs it, otherwise all of you please behave and don’t scare her off, nor say anything that means I’ll have to destroy her tape recorder. Sound good? Good!” Danielle rattled off quickly, moving out the door and shutting it behind her.

The tension in the air was thick, and it was all seething from Michael’s direction towards Lizzie. She closed her eyes for a moment, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone, notebook and pen. She spotted a chair behind her, and turned back towards Luke and Ashton.

“Well, where do you want to start? A group sit down, some general thoughts on the journey so far and what the album experience has been like?” Lizzie offered, trying to make herself sound enthusiastic, but also in control and like she knew what she was doing.

Luke, Calum and Ashton all murmured in agreeance, and moved themselves over to sit by Michael on the couch, while Lizzie dragged the chair she’d spotted over to sit facing them.

“Right. All good if I audio record this?” She asked, hitting record on her voicenotes app after three heads nodded at her.

“So, the album. Where did it begin? Did anyone or anything influence or kick off the sonic direction or the start of the exploratory process?”

The conversation was flowing quite well, Lizzie though. Ashton dominated most of the responses to her questions, but Luke and Calum chipped in their perspectives throughout. Michael didn’t say a word, even when Calum poked him in the side, and instead of glaring at Lizzie he was now staring blankly at the wall over her shoulder. An improvement, sort of, but still not ideal from a journalist and interviewee perspective, let alone when the interviewee was someone who used to be Lizzie’s best friend.

Before she knew it, an hour had past, and Ashton stood, remembering a meeting they had scheduled with the label and their management team, and bringing the interview to a close.

As Lizzie was packing up her equipment, she cautiously brought up the topic of the one on one interviews.

“So, does anyone in particular have free time in the next few days, so I can start on the individual profiling part of the story?” Lizzie asked, her tone hopeful.

Michael’s response was to push straight past her and walk out of the studio, muttering to himself and slamming the door as he went. The loud noise made Lizzie flinch, and she realised her heart was racing and her hands were a little shaky.

“I’ve got time, LL Cool J. I’ll meet you at Joan’s on Third for lunch, say 1pm?” Lizzie smiled at the pld nickname Calum slipped into his quiet response to her question.

“Works for me, C Dizzle Swizzle. Thanks again for your time today, I really appreciate it. Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m really excited for this piece and the chance to tell your story.” Lizzie found herself grinning like an idiot as she met Calum’s warm gaze, and noted that Ashton and Luke were also smiling at her.

“We’re excited too, Lizzie. Even if… some of us might not quite be as enthusiastic as they should be. But, don’t worry. He’ll come round.” It was Luke that spoke this time, his striking blue eyes somehow staring straight into Lizzie’s soul as he looked at her.

“Here’s hoping.” Lizzie tried not to sound too dull in her response, but it was a challenge.

Because honestly, how the fuck was she going to do a profile on all four members of 5 Seconds of Summer, if one of them could barely stand being in the same room as her?

Time will tell, Lizzie thought to herself as she walked out of the door to Calum’s studio and into the warm California sunlight. Time will tell.

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

#5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #my writing #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood imagine #michael clifford imagine #5sos blurb #ashton irwin fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfiction #calum hood fanfiction #michael clifford fanfiction #whew this is the longest thing i've written so far #hope you like it #it's fine if you don't tho #the posting anxiety is REAL omg

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.7

Part 7 of WINTW? :D Enjoy! there’s a bit of a trigger warning here but only very minor~

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 8

It was a rather long ride and with Bokuto being your seatmate, it was impossible to feel drowsiness. With the onigiri long gone, the both of you were now chatting about random things. Occasionally, the two of you would snicker and high five at certain topics. The rest of the team found it amazing how you had managed to keep up with their hyper owl of a captain.

“Then I was like ‘baammm’ but the opponent touched the ball and then their setter went ‘whoosh’ and tossed the ball to their spiker!” Bokuto’s eyes were shimmering with happiness at the chance to relive a few of his earlier matches.

“Were you able to stop the ball, Bokuto-san?” In all honesty, you were genuinely curious. Listening to an athlete play the sport he loved, without the use of quirks or support gears was amazing.

“I did!” He pumped his fist into the air. “I ain’t an ace for nothing!”

When he winked, you were positive about what he was going to do next. Imitating his action, his smile grew even wider. Together, the both of you did his phrase.

“HEY HEY HEY!” Followed by laughter.

“Oh!” You reached out for your phone and clicked on the camera app. “Let’s take a selfie, Bokuto-san! I have a friend and I think she’d die when she sees your sitting beside me~”

“That’s evil, (y/n)...” He paused dramatically. “I LIKE IT!”

Meanwhile, 3 rows behind, the same person who had just lost Y200 began to fiddle with his fingers once again. His eyes focused on the seat beside his childhood friend’s. He had to admit that you were handling Bokuto like a seasoned zoo keeper, though. But when it came to the point where you asked for a selfie, both his and Haruki’s ears reacted.

“Oho~ That might just be a cover up, my dear calm kohai~” He nudged Akaashi’s elbow.

“It’s just a picture. And she said it’s for her friend.”

“She said her ex was Ushiwaka, right?” Hearing a hum, Haruki closed his music app and opened the PortraitBook. “Tendou from Shiratorizawa sent me this. Said that they rarely took pictures together but this one had to be Ushiwaka’s personal favorite.”

Furrowing his brow, Akaashi asked permission to hold the phone. Zooming on the picture, he stared at your smiling face and how you looked so tiny compared to the ace of the other school. Tilting his head, he zoomed in and out of the picture. His mind showing pictures of your smile.

“If you zoom in anymore, Ushiwaka might come to life, Akaashi.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He handed the phone back and leaned on to the back rest.

“But, like, are you chill with Bokuto and her though?”

“I see no need to be annoyed. Bokuto-san knows I li-” Snapping his head towards the smug libero, he cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “Bokuto-san is just doing that to rile me up.”

“It’s definitely working.”

“I’ll give credit where credit is due.” He lowered his voice and peeked at Bokuto’s broad shoulders. “It is.”

“ACHOO!” Bokuto sneezed onto his elbow. He knew exactly what was happening. “Someone’s talking behind my back!”

Grabbing a tissue from your bag, you handed it to him. He looked like a small child blowing his nose. Wanting to cheer him up a bit, you decided it would be alright to play with your quirk a little bit.

“Bokuto-san~” Gesturing him to come closer, the big man followed. “I have a secret~”

“What? What? What?” His golden eyes were wide with anticipation.

“I’m a magician!”

“EHHH?!”

Pretending to rummage in your bag, you showed him your palms and he nodded that you weren’t holding onto a string or anything. Letting him feel your palms, you couldn’t help but giggle at his focus. His palms were also very calloused from all the practices.

“So I have nothing on me, right Bokuto-san?” He hummed and nodded his head like a puppy. Waving your hands around his face, his irises followed your palms. Making sure that only a minuscule amount of your quirk will be used, you pressed your palms together. “Look~”

When you showed him your palms, little glowing orbs of yellow began to dance as you delicately, but awkwardly, waved your hands. It was adorable seeing his reaction shifting from surprise, wonder, amazement and disbelief at the sight before him. Pressing your palms back together, you focused all the tiny orbs into one slightly bigger orb. Revealing to him the little ball of light, you could hear the happiness in his voice.

“THAT’S SO COOL (Y/N)!” He was bouncing up and down his seat. “Where and how did you learn that?”

“Just had a few friends in UA who liked magic as well.” Rubbing your palms together, the ball of light disappeared.

“Does Akaasshi know you can do that?”

“Nope~” You gave him a teasing smile. “This’ll be our little secret, Bokuto-san~”

“Your secret is safe with me (y/n)!” Giving you a fist bump, you happily responded. Before any of you could speak up, the coach gave an announcement. The gym was now an estimated 2 minutes away so it was best to prepare your luggages for faster processing and unloading from the bus. Everyone followed suit. “Gah. I can’t wait for you to meet the others, (y/n)-chan~ I’m sure you’ll like all of them! Make sure to go to gym 3 later! I think Akaashee would be even more energetic if you were our ball person~”

“I highly doubt that, Bokuto-san~ All of you have more than enough energy as it is.” The small tingling feeling in your stomach was there again. Waving it off, Bokuto merely ruffled your hair and shrugged at your statement.

When the bus finally stopped, the coach gave a few last minute instructions. Each member finished his sentences knowing full well what they had to do already. Not even complaining, the coach chuckled and told his little nest of owls to scurry their asses off to the registration area.

Following the two women, you were now settling into your tiny area. Not long after, the doors opened once more and you were face to face with a cute blondie and a ridiculously beautiful girl who wore glasses. Yukie and Kaori told you to come over and introduced you.

“You can call me, Yachi!” Yachi extended her hand to which you accepted. “This is my second camp for this year~”

“I’m Kiyoko, nice to meet you.” You felt like dirt accepting her hand. Yet, she was exuding a very kind aura so there wasn’t much to worry about. “Let’s have fun with our time together~”

Nodding at her statement, you couldn’t help but feel as though you’ve heard her voice somewhere. Maybe not in the same range of tone but it was something you couldn’t place. Deciding that it was nothing, all five of you were now changing into your clothes. The two managers from Karasuno couldn’t help but stare at your battle scars.

“No need to apologize, you two.” You shook your palms as they bowed to apologize. “It’s not like I’m ashamed of these anyway. Just shows I survived and made it through the rough times.”

“How did you really get that scar, (y/n)?” Kaori asked. Her tone a little held back.

“I was on my way home one night. It was already a bit late since we had to finish a school project. A few blocks from my school, I kinda began to feel that I was being followed. So, when I made a run for it, my thoughts were confirmed. I wasn’t that active then so the man caught me and tried to touch me.” This wasn’t the best story you could make considering how others could have experienced the whole thing. However, this was also the most probable situation you could think of that was enough for them to actually believe you. “I kicked him in the balls but it only angered him. Next thing I knew, I was screaming and luckily there was a convenience store nearby.”

All of them were speechless. It wasn’t everyday they would hear stories like that first hand like that.

“C’mon now~” You tried to brighten up the mood. “That was years ago and it only made me stronger.”

After a few guilt infested encouragement, all of you were now heading to the main gym. From afar, you could already hear the sounds of volleyballs slamming the floor, sneakers squeaking, praises and yelling.

The gym doors were wide open so all of you simply walked in. When you did, all eyes were on you. It was a sight to behold. A gym with sweaty athletic men. Not even UA prepared you for being feasted upon so many eyes.

“That happens when there’s a new manager.” Yukie whispered. “You’re in for a lot of questions when it’s break time later. Be prepared.”

Heading to Fukurodani’s court, Bokuto waved for you to be on his side. Following instructions, you positioned yourself ready to catched the balls. And you had to admit, you had the best view of all. A close up of how the BokuAka works during a match.

To say the least, it was jaw-droppingly beautiful how the two opposites worked together. The level of trust between them was admirable. This was also the day where you got to see Bokuto’s infamous emo mode. There were a few giggles with how he was acting but overall, the game went well and Fukurodani won by 25-23.

Gathering a few stary balls, you crouched down only to have your fingertips brush with another person’s.

“Well aren’t you even cuter up close~” Looking up at the stranger, you were met with messy bed hair, cat like eyes, and a very flirty smile. Yet, the reason for the blush reaching your cheeks was not due to the Nekoma player’s good looks. It was due to the familiarity of his voice. You could tell that voice from a mile away.

‘Holy shit. HE SOUNDS JUST LIKE HAWKS.’ Your mind was in shambles. In front of you was the captain of the Nekoma team, Kuroo if you heard it right, and his voice was exactly like Hawks. Fangirling for a hero that no one knew of, you cleared your throat and stood up.

“I’d look starstruck too~” He winked. Only to have you blush even more.

‘Oh god. I can’t unhear Hawks. He’s way taller but aahhh~’

“(y/n)-chan?!” Bokuto snapped you out of your thoughts. “You okay? Your face is pretty red!”

“I-I’m fine, Bokuto-san.” Scratching your nape, you sneakily activated your quirk to lose the acquired heat. “I, uh, I’m not used to being hit on. That’s all.”

“Such a shame~ We can change that if you’d like~”

“Kuroo.” Your breath hitched. Darting to the source, you were met with the Nekoma setter. Black roots now taking over his blondeness. “Karasuno is ready for our match with them.”

Swallowing your saliva, you stared at the setter. When he captured your gaze, he blinked a couple of times before looking away. Slapping his friend’s back, Kuroo laughed at Kenma’s little episode of eye contact with some random manager.

“This is Kenma!” Slapping Kenma’s back once more, the shy boy merely bowed and ran away rather quickly. “Anyway~ Let’s continue this small chat later~ Drop by gym 1 and witness the cats and crows practicing.”

Watching as he caught up with Kenma, you finally let go of the breath you had been holding. Fanning yourself, Bokuto studied you like a lab rat as Akaashi and Konoha approached you two. It was a mystery how the captain was silently eyeing you up and down.

“AAAHHH!” Three of you took a step back as he began to flail his arms. “HAVE I BEEN WRONG ALL THIS TIME?!”

“With what, exactly, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi questioned. Even he wasn’t sure what was going on in his brain.

“I always thought that (y/n)-chan was interested in a certain someone from our team.” His golden orbs locked on Akaashi. “But maybe I was wrong. (y/n)-chan! D’yu have the hots for Kuroo?”

“Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo?” Akaashi repeated. Konoha simply listened and waited eagerly for your response.

“Ha?” Your jaw dropped. “Of course not! It’s just that he has the exact same voice as my crush back in Musutafu. And Kenma’s voice reminds of my childhood friend’s before he got whacked with the puberty stick.”

“Hooo~ What was the name of your crush?”

If by some insane miracle, there’s a Hawks in this dimension, you were more than ready to drop everything, drag your ass to Fukuoka, and search for quirkless Hawks. But the question stood open. You had no idea what his name was. Sure, he would carefully flirt with you knowing you were still a student but he couldn’t help it. You were too beautiful.

“He goes by the name Hawks.” You shrugged. “But, eh, it’s just a crush. He’s like 5 years older than me.”

Nodding their heads, you changed the topic and pushed all of them away. It was now time for their matches and you wanted them to prepare with the ample time left. Following them towards the designated court, your thoughts wandered back to half and half.

“You okay?” Akaashi quietly asked. Eyes still locked forward.

“Yeah. Kinda miss my old home.” A small smile with nostalgia formed. “Not gonna lie, I was pretty paranoid and scared shitless with having to live in this dimension. But, it’s honestly not that bad. I kinda like it here.”

“It’s safe to say that the Volleyball team will always have your back.” He nodded at his own statement. “No matter how childish or silent they may be.”

“What about you?” You elbowed his arm softly. “Will you have my back?”

“No.”

Scoffing, you pouted and walked a bit faster. Before you could take another step, you felt his large hands delicately grab onto your wrist. Standing still, you felt it. The way your heart began to beat frantically, how you were certain your cheeks were slowly showing tints of pink, and how you were unconsciously yearning for his touch. Feeling as if time had slowed down, you made sure that your quirk was stagnant, to which it was. His gunmetal blue eyes were intense. If anything, the butterflies in your tummy were now raving.

“Whatever direction or dimension, I’ll always be there.”

“Recovery Girl!” Momo yelled. “(y/n)’s heart rate! It suddenly spiked up!”

The 2-A girls had visited you during their free period. They were chatting about what they would do once you were to wake up. It was a happy time till the ECG machine began to show signs of sudden increase.

Quickly moving, Recovery Girl checked the rest of your stats. The more she studied your condition, the more she was left with questions. Such as this scenario. Your vital signs were okay. Sure there really was an increase in your heart rate and blood pressure but other than that it was all stable.

Observing your sleeping body, she squinted her eyes. Rubbing her eyes, she was now sure that there was redness on your face. Checking your temperature, it was nowhere near the degree of fever. Giving it a few seconds, she watched as it faded and the abnormalities finally went back to normal. Grabbing your medical file by the bedside table, she scanned through the previous reports and closed the file once more.

“Is (y/n)-chan okay, kero?” Tsuyu asked. Her big eyes laced with worry as she held onto Momo.

“Yes.” She replied. “It seems as if her brain activity is also affecting her blood circulation but other than that, she’s as stable can be.”

Thanking her for the constant care, the old nurse watched as the girls began to leave the infirmary. Once she heard the door closing, she made her way back to your bed. Reaching for the medical file again, she went over the occurrence of similar activities. There was no pattern at all but she knows it when she sees it.

You were blushing.

- - - - -

a/n: i dunno bout yall but this was a bit chaotic to write xD hope yall liked that cheesy line <3

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu #haikyu x bnha

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bookishbarnowl · 3 years

Text

A Night Masked With Changes: Chapter 1

Clay's finally ready to attend the Ball himself, determined to explore the world beyond the castle. Romance is not something he accounted for. Whoops.

Warnings: None

Relationships: Dream & Technoblade (twins), Dream/George, Dream & Wilbur, Dream & Sapnap, Dream & Fundy, Phil/Kristen

Word Count: 1,929

Ao3 Link: Here

Chapters: 1 (here) 2 3 …

The clock in the Great Hall had just sounded twice, and the castle was silent. Guards were just beginning to nod at their posts, servants had long since retired to bed, and the royal family should have been asleep in their beds. The young crown prince was defying expectations.

Clay carefully shut the door of his bedroom with a quiet click, his usual extravagant attire exchanged for a simplistic suit of forest green and a dark cloak. He’d spent the last few nights working on his mask, a blank white disc carefully fitted to his face and painted with a plain black smile. It was embellished with stylized ferns and edged with painstakingly painted daisies. He was proud of it, perhaps embarrassingly so. Art was not one of his strong points.

He spared a quick glance towards the door a few rooms down from his own, knowing his twin, Technoblade, was asleep inside. He’d seriously considered dragging him along on this little excursion he had planned, but ultimately decided he couldn’t risk it. His brother could carry a secret to his grave if he wanted to, but he was a serious stick in the mud about rule breaking. Clay’s general rule of thumb with his brother was that if it could get him in trouble, he kept it to himself, and he really didn’t want his dad to find out about this. This was most definitely in that category, so tonight he was alone.

The other person he’d desperately wanted to confide in was George, his best friend. Technically, he was Clay’s valet and manservant, but over the years their relationship had evolved into something much deeper than that. They spent most of the day together and their friendship had gone from tentative giggling at jokes the other made to raucous late night gossiping sessions and sharing practically everything with each other. George had been the first person brave enough to make fun of him (besides Techno- he didn’t count) and Dream found that he actually liked being the butt of a joke when he could laugh with the person and snap back with some witty retort. George wasn’t afraid of him, and when one was the crown prince, unprejudiced companionship was a valuable commodity.

His friend was currently asleep in the servants quarters far below him in the depths of the castle, sharing a bedroom with fellow servant Floris. After a lot of troubled consideration, he’d decided that he would keep this escapade a secret, at least for now. The worst that could happen to him was he’d be grounded or punished by his dad, but George could lose his job or even worse if he was discovered helping Clay sneak out of the castle. His father wouldn’t care whose idea it had been, only that they were both involved. He was not willing to put that on the line, so no matter how guilty it made him feel, he was going to do this by himself. Besides, Floris was a light sleeper. It would be hard to avoid waking him up.

He slipped down the hall and crept down the stairs on cat feet, tying the strings of the mask behind his head as he went. Getting out of the castle was a simple matter, he’d long ago discovered a window that was loose in its casing and large enough to fit through while being light enough to lift by himself. He could slot it back into place from either side of the wall, which made it the perfect escape route.

The outer wall was a bit more of a challenge, but there was a reason he’d waited until this exact moment. There were only twenty minutes until the next change of the guard, so they would be tired and bleary from four hours of alertness. If he was careful, he could sneak up to a parapet and let himself down with a rope, which is exactly what he did.

He landed on the ground with a soft thud, tying his rope to a nearby tree so that it couldn’t be pulled back up without a hassle. He checked that his mask was secure on his face, then darted off into the night, bound for the brightly lit village in the distance.

Once a month, the town held a Masquerade Ball. Ostensibly, it was a chance to catch up with your neighbors and enjoy a night of carefree revelry. In reality, it was paradise for anyone who wanted to get away from who they were during the day. Not everyone hid their identities, but most did, and they came from all walks of life. Some came in shoddily patched linen with burlap sacks over their faces and some came in fine silk with embroidered bandanas hiding the countenances of high profile officials, but all were treated with the same welcoming spirit. One’s real name was a well-respected secret, and unmasking someone was the ultimate act of cowardice. Anyone who broke that trust would be punished without remorse.

Clay had known about the event for quite some time now, having heard a few details from George, and had finally worked up the courage to attend himself. He was sick and tired of everyone looking at him and seeing someone to be impressed and flattered. He wanted to meet someone as himself for once. Tonight, he wasn’t the crown prince. With the mask and costume on, he became Dream, his idealized self.

He snuck into the town square through an inconspicuous alleyway, ducking into the crowd and hoping he hadn’t been noticed by too many people. He wasn’t looking to draw attention yet. He got a few looks, but most people were content to return to their own conversations and pay him no mind. He was about to sigh in relief, glad to have made it in unscathed, when someone touched his shoulder. He jumped and rapidly turned to face them.

It was a man in a pale tunic and dark pants, the bottom half of his face covered with a cream-colored bandana and sparkling black eyes winking mischievously at him from the upper half.

“Welcome to the Ball,” he offered cheerfully. “You seem like you haven’t been here before.”

Clay nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet without giving himself away.

“Well, if you’d like a dance partner, I would be honored to make your acquaintance.” The man bowed cheekily, extending his hand in invitation.

Clay couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. He was Dream now, and Dream took risks. Dream could afford to dance with strangers without fear of judgement. He nodded again and took the man’s hand. He was promptly whisked off to the center of the square, where about a dozen couples were dancing to the lively music.

He was grateful for the years of rigorous lessons he had to fall back on as the masked man swept him into the forms of the dance with confident ease. His new friend was leading, but he found he didn’t care much and excitement thrilled in his heart as the man swung him into a dip with a brilliant smile that was obvious even with his mouth obscured.

He felt so alive he could fly, grinning like a madman as the two of them twirled across the square in perfect step. His cape swirled behind him in effortless elegance when he spun, the lightweight fabric echoing his thoughts as he realized he could never happily go back to the heavy woolen mantle he wore to formal events. He’d never danced like this outside of the privacy of his lessons, and it was exhilarating.

The last measure of the song sounded with a triumphant zing, moving into a more sedate melody. His dance partner bowed once again, breathing hard and eyes wild with delight. Clay, equally tired and elated, bowed low in return.

“May I steal you for one more?” the man asked, nodding towards the other couples, who had transitioned to a stately waltz.

In response, Clay caught his arm and took the lead, placing a firm hand on his waist and gently guiding them into the first steps of the dance. They were the epitome of grace, well-matched in skill and dexterity as they flowed through the figures of the waltz. He started to notice a few people staring, growing aware that compared to most of the other attendees this level of expertise was unusual. He decided he didn’t mind the eyes on him as much as he usually did.

With the relaxed pace of the slower song, he was free to fully take in the man in front of him. He was a couple inches shorter than Clay himself and had a shock of dark hair that stuck up in all directions, his skin a few shades shy of olive. The hand clasped in his was callused around the fingers but not the palms, so he probably wasn’t a manual laborer, but he was still well-muscled. His costume was simple but the fabric was a far cry from the coarse cotton of many people here.

Clay estimated he was somewhere in the upper middle class, but he had no idea who was standing in front of him. He felt sure he would’ve remembered those impish eyes if he’d seen them before.

He wondered how he himself looked. He knew his height and fitness weren’t anything to scoff at, and compliments on his appearance were common, but what impression did he make without his famous face? He felt mysterious and intriguing, and certainly something about him had attracted this man’s attention. It felt good, knowing that he was interesting enough to seek out even without his title. He was sure his joy must be showing on his face, and he wished he didn’t need to hide it.

“So,” his partner began, interrupting his thoughts, “do you speak, masked man? I would love to know the voice that matches such exquisite dance skills.”

Clay cleared his throat, pitching his voice a few tones higher than usual. “My ability is no greater than yours,” he said appreciatively.

The bright eye-smile was back. “It’s rare I find such a well-trained dance partner, good sir. Do you have something I can call you?”

“Dream,” he answered warmly. “And what can I call you?”

“Sapnap,” he replied. “And what are you seeking tonight?”

He thought for a moment. He obviously couldn’t say he was escaping royal responsibilities. “An unbiased eye,” he admitted after a brief hesitation. “Why are you here?”

“Why, to dance!” Sapnap laughed. “It’s a Ball, after all. You’re the best partner I’ve seen since the Blood God, and I’ve been coming every month for ten years.”

“Who’s the Blood God? Are they a regular attendee?” he questioned, interest piqued. The name itself evoked fear and awe, but a certain majesty tempered it. And they were apparently a dancer as well.

“He comes most times. He’s here tonight, actually. He keeps to himself, but I finally convinced him to favor me with a dance a few months ago. He’s a very strong performer. He’s dressed in a red cloak and a pig mask, if you’d like to find him later.” He glanced over Clay’s shoulder and his eyes widened. “Or you can meet him now. He’s coming this way.” His expression switched into something more nervous. “To be quite frank, he intimidates me. Act cool.”

Clay laughed lightly and finished the waltz, bowing to Sapnap one more time before turning around to meet the Blood God. His jaw dropped as he saw who was pushing his way through the crowd, suddenly very glad indeed that his face was covered.

#mcyt #dsmp #dreamwastaken #technoblade #georgenotfound #wilbur soot #cinderella inspired #technotwin #fanfic #also on ao3 #fluff #friends to lovers #moderate slow burn #dreamnotfound #dnf fic

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dawninlatin · 4 years

Text

Haste

A Feysand Modern AU One Shot

Words: 4433

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Feyre comes back home after quitting college and breaking up with her boyfriend. During a night out, she starts seeing her friend Rhys in a new light. (Warning: There is some smut by the end)

The title comes from the song “Haste” by RY X, and if you wanna vibe, I suggest you go listen to it:)

A/N: Sorry for how long this note is, guess I had a lot to say, lol. This is actually the first fic I ever wrote, but I wanted to repost it, because I had only posted the AO3 link before, and wasn’t happy with that format. I would like to take this opportunity to thank all my amazing followers and readers!<3

When reading through this fic, there were so many things I wanted to change, (like, why did I think it was a good idea to have every other word written in italics?? And I’m so sorry for the cheesy dialogue and suuuuper long paragraphs...), but I decided to keep it as it was, because it shows how far I’ve come from that day in February where I sat up half the night writing, thinking that no one would ever read this, because my English wasn’t good enough, and my writing wasn’t good enough.

Yet I still posted it, and the response I got was more than I ever expected! This, along with all the other response I’ve gotten on all my other fics, has helped me so much with my writing, but more importantly, has helped me become the person I am today. So thank you so much, to everyone who takes the time to read, to everyone who likes, and reblogs, and leaves comments, and keep encouraging me! Thank you to all you wonderful people I have gotten to know on this app, tumblr has become a second home for me! From the bottom of my heart, I love y’all!<3<3<3

This was not how Feyre had pictured her night. Had she been the one to decide, it would consist of greasy pizza, a bottle of tequila and some crappy rom-com. Feyre had gotten as far as scrolling through Netflix in search for one, when her best friend Mor walked in the door of the apartment and declared that Feyre better get her ass of that couch, take a fucking shower and put on some decent clothing, because they were going out.

Feyre hadn’t felt like she was in the right position to protest; it was Mor’s couch she’d been occupying for the past week after all. Had it been a week already? she wondered. A week since Feyre had finally broken up with her asshole boyfriend Tamlin and then jumped on a bus to California, because the only person in the world she wanted to be with then was Mor. She had felt the need to share this victory with the only person that could always make her feel better. Of course, the high had ended as soon as she stood on Mor’s doorstep, where she had taken one look at her best friend and turned into a sobbing mess. That was about how she had spent the following week as well. She didn’t want to cry over the bastard, but he had been part of her life for the past two years, and she had loved him. Once.

So instead of spending the night on Mor's couch, wallowing in self pity, Feyre now found herself standing in the middle of a dance club crowded with drunk, sweaty people, playing way too loud music - the blinking lights making her dizzy. She had borrowed one of Mor’s dresses - and though this was considered modest in Mor’s eyes - she found herself constantly pulling at the black fabric, not comfortable with how much thigh it showed off.

Feyre scanned the room, trying to find her friend, and as she was about to declare the task impossible, she eyed a red dress and a head of blond curls. Mor was elbowing her way through the crowd, drinks in hand, accompanied by two men Feyre recognized. The tall, muscular one with shoulder-length, dark hair and a cocky smirk was Cassian, and the slightly shorter one with a shy smile was Azriel.

As they approached her, Cassian went in for a one-armed hug. «It’s good to see you Feyre!» He grinned at her, and she found herself grinning back despite her unhappy mood earlier. She really had missed these people.

«Hi Feyre, you look well!» Feyre looked up to see Azriel smiling at her, accompanied by an awkward wave. He was more of the quiet, observing type of guy, but that was exactly what Feyre liked so much about him. He was quiet, yes, but the silence was never uncomfortable.

«You as well, Azriel.» She smiled back at him, then turned towards Mor, who handed her a drink.

«Don’t look so shy Feyre. You look amazing tonight!» Mor winked at her, then gestured to the rest of the club. «You should have seen all the guys eyeing you when we walked in. Actually…if you hadn’t been my best friend, and straight-» she made a disappointed face at that, which made their whole group laugh, including Feyre, «-I totally would have slept with you.» Feyre laughed even more at that, but Mor was right. She felt good tonight. Sexy, even. She felt something she hadn’t felt in a long way. She was excited for what the night - the future - would bring.

«I might not wanna sleep with you, but I think that brunette at the bar wants to.» Feyre nodded her head towards the young woman ogling her friend.

«Hell yes!» Mor exclaimed. She put her arms around Feyre and Azriel’s shoulders. «Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna get laid!»

«Cheers to that!» Cassian laughed, lifting his drink. As Feyre sipped hers, she felt light, almost giddy, with excitement and joy. At the same moment, she noticed someone was missing from their small gathering. Rhys.

She couldn’t fathom how she hadn’t noticed before. Mor’s annoying cousin was difficult to ignore whenever he was present. The prick always teased, always came with innuendos, or witty remarks. He had the biggest ego Feyre had ever encountered. Still, Feyre found herself to be missing Rhysand’s snarky comments and their never-ending banter. Before she had time to stop herself, she spoke the sentence: «Hey guys, where’s Rhys?»

Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at her, but she chose to ignore him. «He’s coming later. Had to work overtime» Mor answered. Feyre nodded, before quickly switching the subject over to their plans for the rest of the summer.

As soon as they had some alcohol in their blood, Feyre and her small group of friends moved on to the dance floor. Feyre was jumping around, singing along to whatever song they were blasting, joking and laughing with Mor and Cassian, teasing Azriel for not wanting to join them. They looked like idiots, but they were happy idiots. She could feel the heavy bass in her whole body, along with her beating heart. She was so, so happy . Happier than all of last year combined. Hell, she hadn’t been this happy since high school, when she, Mor, Cassian, Azriel, even Rhys, had been together almost every day. Always laughing, joking. But that had been before Tamlin, and before she had been stupid enough to move halfway across the country for college.

Feyre scolded herself for thinking about Tamlin again. The point of tonight was to forget him. To have fun. And she was having fun, and she was happy. So happy that at any moment she could grow wings and disappear into the night. She had no worries. No worries of the home she had left behind, or college, or her ex-boyfriend, or what tomorrow would bring. She was here, now, and she felt fucking amazing.

Feyre heard Cassian greet someone, and turned just in time to meet a pair of shockingly blue eyes. Rhys. Her breath caught, her heart thundering in her chest, and she found herself not being able to look away. He held her gaze, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Feyre didn’t know if it was the lights, the music, the alcohol, the warm summer night, still young and full of possibilities, or the feeling of finally being free, but it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

Had he always been this handsome? she asked herself, taking in his lean, muscular form, his tight-fitting jeans, the white shirt opened just enough to show off the tattoos swirling across his chest. She stared at his sharp jawline, his soft lips, his eyes, so blue they were practically glowing, his dark, messy hair. Oh, how she wanted to run her fingers through his hair.

A cough from Mor made Feyre tear her eyes away at last. I must be drunker than I thought , she mused. This was Rhys she was thinking about. The man who annoyed her to no end. The man who was known for his many hook-ups and one night stands and flirts and just- argh.

«How nice of you to finally show up,» Cassian said as he threw an arm around Rhys’ shoulder and handed him a drink. Rhys made a comment that had Cassian roaring with laughter, but Feyre didn’t hear what it was, because Rhys was looking at her with such an intensity that it made her insides tingle. Stop it, she thought. You had a boyfriend just a week ago.

«Hey Feyre. It’s good to see you again.» Rhys smiled at her, but it wasn’t his usual cocky smirk. It almost looked a little sad. Feyre suddenly found the floor very interesting, not being able to keep herself from blushing or biting her lip. She could feel his eyes on her. Burning. Then Mor shouted «Who wants shots?», and the moment was over.

The night went on. They drank, they danced, they talked about college and hook-ups and high school. Feyre almost wanted to cry at the feeling of how familiar it all was. She had been afraid that her moving to Boston would change everything - and it had, for a little while - but she was back now, and everything was normal. Except for Rhys, maybe. Something had definitely changed between the two of them.

Gone was the teasing and never-ending banter. In its place was something brand new. They hadn’t said anything to one another except for pleasantries for the entirety of the evening, but Feyre caught him staring at her constantly, with this sad, longing look in his eyes. And to be honest, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off of him either.

Right now, they were all sitting at the bar, watching Cassian stick his tongue down the throat of some random blonde on the dance floor. Mor suddenly stood up, announcing she was gonna go try her luck with the woman she had been flirting with all night.

«Come on, Azriel. You’re gonna be my wingman.» His protest died on his lips as More pulled him after her.

All there was left, was Feyre and Rhys. Not able to meet each others eyes.

But Feyre was feeling brave this night. It might have been the alcohol, or the still-lingering high of having broken up with the asshole that had made her life miserable for the past year. She muttered a quiet «fuck it», downed her drink, stood up, and looked her friend straight in the eyes. «Do you wanna dance?»

Rhys’s face was lit up by a bright smile. «I thought you’d never ask, Feyre darling.» Her insides warmed at the familiar nickname, and she found herself smiling just as brightly. Rhys took her hand, leading her to the dance floor, where some old EDM shit was playing.

Feyre didn’t care about the bad music, or the bright lights, or the sweat coating her body. She was here with Rhys. His body was so close now, and she could smell his all-familiar scent of citrus and sea.

She lost track of how long they danced. None of them were any good at it, but they were laughing and having fun. Feyre felt 17 again, jumping around, sweaty and drunk, but happy. «God, I missed this!» she exclaimed, grinning at Rhys, just as the fast rhythms and heavy bass switched over to a slow ballad.

Hesitantly, Feyre glanced at Rhys, suddenly feeling shy and unsure. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. She understood what he meant immediately, and nodded, biting her lip. Rhys stepped closer, and put his arms around her waist. She placed hers around his neck, swaying along with the music.

She looked at the man in front of her. Really looked at him this time. How had she not noticed before, how strikingly beautiful he was? His sharp angles, kissable lips, silky hair, the blue eyes she could get lost in if she stared for too long. Said eyes were taking in her just as intensely at the moment.

«You are so beautiful tonight, Feyre.» His voice was hoarse, laced with restraint. Feyre felt a longing, deep within herself. She wanted to tell him he was beautiful too, wanted to kiss him, wanted to cry, wanted to just leave, wanted to stay in his arms forever. She wanted to be his. She did neither, couldn’t find the courage to do so.

Instead, she stepped closer, and pressed her forehead against his, feeling his strained breath against her lips. Everything around them disappeared. The world narrowing down to the two of them, together, forehead against forehead, in the midst of a warm night in June.

Then the song ended, and the moment was over. Feyre stepped back, but she continued to hold his gaze. Rhys looked towards the exit. «Come, I wanna show you something.» He grabbed her hand, and then he was leading her through the crowd. They walked past Mor, who muttered a «fucking finally!» that made them both chuckle.

Outside, they were surrounded by warm, summer air, a chill breeze running over their exposed skin. Rhys looked at Feyre with mischief in his eyes. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

«What exactly was it that you wanted to show me?» she asked, not being able to hide her curiosity.

«You’ll see, just trust me.» Rhys looked giddy with excitement. He was bouncing on his feet now. «Follow me, we don’t wanna miss it.» Then he started walking. Fast.

«Miss what?» Feyre shouted after him, but he didn’t answer. Rhys just kept on walking, and she struggled to keep up with him. «I have shorter legs than you, remember? And I’m currently in heals, which puts me at an unfair disadvantage.» He stopped a few steps ahead, an amused look on his face.

«We have to wait a few minutes now,» he announced, all serious. Feyre looked around where they were standing, a few blocks away from the club. The whole city was sleeping. The sight of the quiet, empty streets bewitching.

Then a bright, yellow bus stopped in front of them. Also empty. She followed Rhys onto it, confusion growing more and more. «The bus? Where exactly are we going?»

The puzzled look on Feyre's face made him chuckle. «I swear, the mystery will be worth it once we get there. Now, we could have walked, but then we would miss it.» He must have seen the question forming on her lips, because he raised a finger. «And no, I still won’t tell you what it is.»

She rolled her eyes and muttered a quiet «prick». The nickname made him laugh, and she laughed with him, because Feyre hadn’t called him that since high school. It had been way too long since they’d been together like this. Still, under all the joking and laughing, there was an unfamiliar tension that hadn’t been there before.

After only five minutes, Rhys announced that they had reached their destination. He stepped out onto the street, and led Feyre towards a beach. The sight in front of her was breathtaking. The dark waves crashing against the sand, the sky - the nearing dawn making it a deep pink - birds flying over their heads, and Rhys, who had taken off his shoes and started walking towards the ocean. Feyre followed him, slipping out of her heels. The moment she felt the familiar California sand under her toes again, she laughed with joy. A rich and warm sound she hadn’t made in forever.

Rhys, who was standing in the water now, looked up at her, the same bright smile on his face. He waved at her to hurry up, and she walked the final steps to him. The sea was warm, and the salty smell of it was amazing. It was home. She looked towards the horizon, where the sun barely had begun to rise. Then she looked up at Rhys again.

«The sunrise. That’s what you wanted to show me.» Rhys only nodded, before looking ahead of them. Feyre took in the sight again, and she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She wanted, no, she needed to paint.

Her thoughts were disturbed by Rhys, who was now sitting in the sand, jeans cuffed up to his knees. «Come sit with me, Feyre.» He patted the spot next to him.

Feyre stepped back and sat down, feeling the waves crash against her legs. She looked to Rhys, and said the only thing that could come to her mind with a playful smirk on her lips. «How did your dad take it when he found out his only son was gonna major in English, and not business?»

Rhys grimaced. «He was pissed at first, even threatened to write me out of his will, but he came around - eventually.» They chuckled at that, both knowing how angry Rhys’ father could get, but also how he always gave in when it came to his children. «How about you? How’s all the art stuff going?» Rhys asked, his eyebrows raised in question.

«Urgh,» Feyre cringed, «I dropped out in March, haven’t touched a paint brush since.» She should have been sad or ashamed when admitting that, but she felt good, knowing she had made the right choice. She had been miserable in Boston.

Rhys looked at her, concern lining his face. «That bad, huh?»

«What can I say? Boston sucked, and I would much rather be here, with you guys.» She grinned at him, and he grinned back.

«So you’re back for good now?» Feyre only nodded, turning back towards the rising sun.

The sight in front of her was hypnotizing. «I didn’t realize how much I’ve really missed home.» The words were out before she managed to think. Rhys only hummed quietly beside her. Seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Feyre turned towards him. His eyes were closed, a small smile on his lips. «What’s on your mind?» she wondered out loud.

Rhys opened his eyes then, and looked at her. «A thought for thought?» he suggested. She smiled at the reminder of the little game they used to play when they were younger. «I can begin,» he continued.

He looked towards the horizon again, taking a deep breath. «I’m thinking that when I walked into the club tonight, I was so happy to see you, because you were so happy. You were dancing and laughing and I thought that finally we had gotten our Feyre back. After you left for Boston, and after you met him, it was as if you disappeared.» Feyre tried to swallow the lump in her throat. He sounded wounded, almost. Did he really care about her that much?

«You visited, of course, but it was like a stranger had replaced you. You were a shell of who you once used to be. You stopped laughing, stopped making inappropriate jokes, and I missed you. God, I missed you so much.» Feyre felt like she might cry at his words, but she didn’t. All she did was stare ahead, and take his hand. She squeezed it, encouraging him to continue. He squeezed back.

«As I said, when I saw you tonight, I was sure we had gotten the old Feyre back. Mor told me what had happened in Boston - why you were back - and I was sure that everything would return to normal between us.» He took a break, clearly anxious of saying what was next.

«But everything isn’t back to normal. Something has changed. I can feel it, and I think you can too.» He looked at her now, that intense longing once again in his eyes. She met his gaze, and suddenly felt brave enough to say:

«I can feel the change too, yes, but I think it’s a good change.» Then she leaned in, and kissed him.

Rhys went completely still at first, and Feyre was afraid that she had misunderstood their conversation. Then he seemed to realize what was happening. He put one arm around her waist, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

His lips tasted salty, she thought, but sweet at the same time. She could get drunk on him alone. Feyre was breathless, and dizzy, but she decided this was the best feeling in the world.

She was kissing Rhys.

He pressed his tongue against her lips, and she opened up for him, moaning at the sensation. She put her hands in his hair, slightly pulling at it. The silky strands feeling soft in her fingers.

Kissing Rhys was everything, but at the same time it was not enough. She needed more. Needed to be closer, needed to feel more of him. She pulled away slightly, breathless, heart thundering, blood rushing in her ears. Rhys looked at her, just as breathless, a hungry gleam in his eyes. «How far is it to your place?» He only smirked in answer.

Rhys stood up, picking Feyre up with him. She laughed as he almost dropped her, then she wrapped her legs around his waist. He didn’t walk far before they reached a small house. Rhys put her down, pulled a pair of keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the door.

Feyre marveled at the place as they stepped inside. It was small, but it was stunning. Large glass windows facing the ocean, green plants covering every available surface, and several over-filled bookshelves. She turned to look at Rhys, who had stopped in the doorway, staring at her taking in his place, surprise clearly written on her face. She took a step towards him. Then another. And another, until their mouths crashed together again.

Rhys moved his lips over her jaw, down her throat, her neck. Feyre moaned, struggling to get his shirt off fast enough, both minds clouded with lust and the haste to be as close together as possible. Skin to skin.

She finally managed to open the last button, pulling off the fabric. Feyre took in his muscled, tan chest and the many tattoos covering it. She leaned forward, and pressed her lips to the spot right above his heart. She could feel it hammering beneath his skin. She moved upwards, ghosting them over his collarbone, his neck, his throat, his jawline, then finally his lip.

Rhys grabbed her face, kissing her with such an intensity it made her dizzy. She was about to start fumbling with his belt when Rhys pulled away. «Are you sure you want this?» he asked, all out of breath, voice cracking, and Feyre would have thought his consideration and worry to be cute, had she not been so desperate to press her naked body against his. So she only nodded, and stepped back to pull her dress over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

That seemed to be the end of Rhys' restraint. He took a step towards her, grabbed her under her thighs, and hoisted her up so she was sitting with her legs around his waist. Feyre moaned at the feeling of him pressing against her, hard and ready, and she felt a warm throbbing between her own legs.

Feyre let out a breathy «why the hell do you still have pants on?» that made Rhys chuckle. She felt the sound moving through his whole body. He walked across the room, laid her down on the bed and quickly got rid of his pants. Feyre almost drooled at the sight of his large cock. She reached out a hand and stroked him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Rhys groaned at the feeling, and leaned over her, placing his mouth on one of her nipples.

It felt exquisite. Rhys, his wandering hands, her body tingling with sensation, his hot mouth on her skin. She needed more, more, more. Feyre pulled his cock free, and he kicked of his underwear. One of his hands reached the band of her own panties, a finger dipping into her core, then slowly circling her clit.

It was too much and not enough and she needed more. Rhys slid off her underwear, and all of a sudden there was nothing between them. «Do you have a condom?» Feyre didn’t know how she managed to form words at this point, but he reached behind her and grabbed one. Feyre took it and rolled it on him, while his mouth explored every inch of her breasts, and his hand slowly stroked the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

Feyre needed him inside her, now. She lined his cock up with her entrance, then she looked him in the eyes. He took her hint, slowly, oh so slowly, pushing himself in, not breaking eye contact.

Feyre moaned at the feeling of him filling her, widening her. He was thick and warm and it felt amazing. She pulled his mouth to hers, and he pressed his tongue inside her, filling her in two places. He pulled out slightly, then pushed in to the hilt this time. Rhys groaned at the sensation, his hand still drawing circles over her clit.

It felt so good, she was seeing stars. The wave inside her rising and rising with no end as Rhys picked up his pace, slamming to the hilt and hitting that magic spot every. damn. time.

Words like more or faster or deeper filled the warm air around them. Rhys buried his head between her shoulder and neck, moaning her name. Feyre felt her pussy clench around him, nearing that sweet, sweet edge. «Rhys, I need to…»

He seemed to understand what she meant, because he went even faster, fingers pressing down against her clit, and fuck it felt so good! His eyes met her eyes, his forehead pressed against her forehead, and she felt his words as a breath against her lips. «Come, Feyre.»

Those words pushed her over the edge immediately, wave crashing over her like nothing ever had before. It lasted a lifetime. That sweet, unending pleasure. She clenched around him again and again, until he started losing control, losing rhythm, and at last he came with her, groaning.

When it was over, the world around them went quiet. The sun was shining through the curtains, a new day beginning, Rhys collapsed on top of Feyre, stroking her disheveled hair away from her face. «That was…» she didn’t know how to end that sentence. She wanted to stay here with him forever. Just the two of them. Skin to skin.

Rhys looked at her, amusement coloring his face. «Intense?» he suggested. Feyre chuckled, tapping her fingers against his chest. He pulled out, turned on his back, taking her with him, so that she lay on his chest, ear placed right over his heart.

«I was gonna go with best sex of my life, but intense works too I guess.» He laughed at that. A warm, loud laughter that she could feel in her whole body. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled a blanked over them.

As Feyre lay there, feeling Rhys draw slow circles on her back, listening to the waves, letting the steady beat of his heart and the sound of his even breaths lull her to sleep, she knew that nothing would ever be the same after this night. She felt almost electric with excitement over what the rest of the summer would bring. One thing she was sure of, Rhys would be part of it.

#feysand #feyre x rhysand #rhysand x feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys x feyre #feyre x rhys #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #feysand fanfiction #dawninlatin fanfiction

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the-mandalorian-clone-lover · 4 years

Text

Aces in Space Chapter 5

Happy Ace Week Y’all!!!!!!!

Ok I am so Excited for this part (I hadn’t planned for it to be during ace week but it actually works perfect!)

Roman is finally getting to go to the support group he told Butch about! I put a reminder of what Butch looks like because I’m also introducing a new character, Hannah, her reference photo is below (one of my real-life model friends, she’s cool:) as well. Tags: @sunshinepascal @rentskenobi @maybege @obaby-wan @princessxkenobi

I’m going outside to muck about with my lightsaber again, I’ll add the links to the previous chapters tonight :D Enjoy and thanks for reading!!!

Warning for excessive cuteness y’all this gets adorable

(Roman at the support group at the local library, brought Butcher along, 2 months dating)

Roman is absolutely certain it’s been years since he sat in the passenger seat. Thankfully, it isn’t Butch’s first time in years driving or he’d be thrilled to get out of the car. As it stands, they’ve been sitting in the parking lot of the local community center (its adjoined to the library) for three minutes and neither of them have moved. It won’t make them late, they got here 26 minutes early out of a panic induced need to be over-prepared, but it doesn’t make the silence any less awkward. Butch had insisted they would look even more out of place in the suits they’re both used to wearing so they’ve somehow ended up in jeans (again) and t-shirts (Butch added a flannel but Roman is convinced it’s to hide his side-arm and not to ward off any chill, the rolling of the sleeves further cements this thought). Roman settled for a band t-shirt that Erica had bought him though he’s never heard their music, and he has a leather jacket but he’s somehow convinced it’ll look like he’s trying too hard if he puts it on.

“It’ll be cold in there boss. Always is” Butch says helpfully, as if he knew the struggle of the other man, though his eyes haven’t left the window since they arrived.

“Yes. Well.” Roman starts, unsure where exactly this sentence is going “I’m, glad, you came along.”

Butch huffs out a laugh, “Well, Ms. Erica is a good one, so if you coming around here helps keep her around, I’ll be along as long as you want me” He finishes smiling at Roman and Roman is certain that he’ll never find anyone as good as Butch as long as he lives, no matter the standard of measure.

“We better get in there.” Butch speaks again helpfully.

“No, no,” Roman starts “best wait till 45, any sooner we might be the first one’s here, and I’d like to avoid that.” Butch shrugs again, conceding the point. He supposes they’ll be facing this either way, sooner or later.

When they do make it in, Roman walks to the desk with every intention of finding out from the librarian where he should be. He’s put on his business air, he can feel it, and it’s a nice change from the panic of the parking lot. He starts in a low tone to avoid startling her “Ma’am?”

Her eyes shoot up and then to his right where no doubt butch is looming, she swallows, then smiles and looks back to Roman. “Yes? Can I help you?”

Choosing to ignore the obvious glance that was directed to Butch (he has every intention of inquiring further into that during the car ride home) he pushes on. “Could you tell us where to find the, well, the support group for Asexuals?” He has to take a breath in-between but decides to be brave about it, using the full title instead of ‘aces’ reminding himself that this is for Erica. Her eyes widen slightly, then flit between the two of them and Roman realizes in a moment how they must look and decides there isn’t anything for it other than to grin and bear it.

“Oh,” she starts, and sounds, almost disappointed? “Yes, down the hall and the room on the right. They should be starting soon.” She indicates with a (rather long) manicured fingernail.

He nods then, giving her a small smile, and starts down the hallway, only getting a few steps in before realizing Butch isn’t following and he hears a small “what’s your name?” from the large man as he turns. The sight shouldn’t be shocking, Butch is a grown man after all, and fully allowed to find people that interest him but he’s become so soft in the moment; leaning over the desk to look deeply into the eyes of the librarian who is now looking short of breath.

“Hannah.” She manages to gasp out and Butch smiles kindly, “I’m Butcher, but I go by Butch pretty often”. He seems to have gotten nervous halfway through and is looking at his feet, but she’s smiling and reaching to cover his laced fingers that are on the desk. “That’s lovely” She says, smiling like Butch was a bouquet of flowers. Butch looks up, slightly shocked, looking at their hands (his dwarf her own to a ridiculous extent Roman notes) before looking back up to her eyes.

“Not as much as you are”

It’s the final nail in the coffin before they both start giggling and Roman is absolutely certain he’s never seen anything so adorable (even as he goes to a support group in order to better understand his girlfriend). Butch stops laughing before she does, pausing to appreciate her (Roman knows that’s what the look on his face is, he looks at Erica like that all the time now himself) before he watches Butch tell her he better get on now. Roman has the decency to act as though he were extremely interested in the shelves to his left- away from them- before he’s rejoined by a Butch who has the softest grin he’s ever seen on his face. As they walk down the hall Roman decides to leave the whole thing till they’re in the car again, if the dopey smile is anything to go by, he won’t be getting much from Butch anyway. He takes a deep breath at the reminder of what they’re both walking into, ignoring the urge to feel ridiculous, and brings out his phone to open the notes app before sliding it into his pocket again. They walk through the door, Butch first, he’d insisted on the drive over that he was still Roman’s bodyguard and would act as such, and find a group of about 15 milling around the room quietly, cake and bottles of water sitting on a table on the far end of the room. Beyond that (and Roman has to suppress the urge to sigh audibly) is a circle of chairs. They’re approached by a smaller blond boy, who greets them with an energy filled “Hello! Are you here for the support group for aces?” he pushes the large rimmed black glasses he wears further up his face as he looks between them and Roman exchanges a glance with Butch before answering

“Yes, is um, is there a protocol to this?”

He blames his nerves for the formality of his response, but the boy seems too thrilled with his presence to be bothered.

“Not at all! We all grab a snack, because cake am I right? And then head to the circle, though, to be honest, most of us couldn’t sit in a chair to save our life.”

Despite his confusion at what he’s sure is a joke the boy is assuming he’s in on, he nods. “We’ll just, help ourselves then.”

The boy nods back at him before freezing and exclaiming “Oh God! I forgot!” his hand shoots out and Roman knows Butcher is already having a conniption at the outburst before the boy finishes “I’m Tom! Jenny says it’s important to tell people my name when I meet them”. His eyes flit behind him as he mentions the other name and a similar looking woman, an older sibling maybe, Roman thinks, smiles affectionately. Roman nods to her then, before bringing his eyes back to the boy, shaking his hand with a “I’m Roman, and this is Butch”. He doesn’t think he needs to add more but the boy’s brow seems to furrow as he shakes Butch’s hand.

“Do, um, are you both Ace?” It’s a timid question but Roman can tell the boy means well, he can also however see the woman, Jenny his mind supplies, making her way over to them quickly.

“I’m so sorry” she says, barely reaching them before apologizing “Tom hasn’t quite learned yet that not everyone wants to say” her hands find the boys shoulders and he turns with a protest “Jenny! I’m almost 22! I’m not a child!”

“Have you said hello to Marie yet?” She changes the subject “I think she brough cookies today”

Almost immediately the boy lights up and is off to explore the new person. Jenny’s eyes go back to Roman, “I’m sorry, he’s on the autism spectrum, I’m still working with him about filters”.

It’s Butch that cuts in this time “It’s alright, I had a sister who was too, I’ll keep him company”. He walks to the snack table then, leaving a stunned Roman alone with Jenny. As long as he’s known Butcher, he never knew he had a sister, let alone one on the spectrum. He makes a mental note to ask Butcher about that on the car ride too. He turns back to Jenny then and manages a smile.

“I’m uh, well, neither one of us is ace” he sees tension begin to fill her body at that so he rushes on “but my girlfriend is and, I want to better understand the whole thing. Butch is here for moral support.” He jerks his head to indicate the other man in case she hadn’t heard the name and hopes for the best. She does seem to relax at that, eyeing him gently “That’s sweet. Of both of you.” It’s said kindly, and somehow, Roman is already feeling more comfortable about this.

He stays a little longer after they finish to ‘confirm next week with jenny’ give Butch time to get a phone number from his librarian and tells Butch he’ll meet him at the car.

**********************************

Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

#asexual #ewan mcgregor #aces in spaces #ace character #original characters #original fic #new chapter #might make a masterlist?#then i don't have to hunt for the links each time

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crescendonot · 3 years

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“ i get no answers, so the question still remains - am i ever gonna see your face again ? “

introducing dali stratford as crescendo !

gday everyone !!! just a little about myself first and foremost, my name’s vic, i’m a 19 year old soon-to-be journalism student, and i’m from australia - now onto the important stuff ! this is miss dali stratford aka crescendo - here’s a couple real quick links to her full app / isolated full bio which i’ll be doing my best to summarise, and also her playlist and pinterest - now, let’s get going !

QUICK STATS !

full name: dali eleanor stratford known as: dali gender & pronouns: cis female & she/her orientation: bisexual biromantic date of birth: april 18, 1984 age: twenty-two hometown: los angeles, california status: deceased

HISTORY !

dali was born the first and only unplanned daughter of jodie stratford, an aspiring costume designer who’d moved to los angeles from middlesbrough against her parents wishes in order to follow her dream. unable to contact her possible father, she decided to raise her alone in the tiny apartment she managed to make into a home.

even though she wasn’t conventionally ‘popular’ in school, she managed to get along with most of the other students, and spent most of her classes just talking to her classmates instead of working - mainly because she genuinely couldn’t do the work. she struggled with reading and writing since day one, but her teachers just sort of wrote her off as a disruption instead of trying to help her out - the root cause was visual dyslexia, but she never got diagnosed.

jodie, instead of forcing her to keep going with work that obviously frustrated and upset her at home, allowed her to relax and focus on her passions - one of which was the music that she’d been raised on. when the rolling stones came through california with the voodoo lounge tour, she managed to scrounge together enough money for them to get tickets, and it ended up being the hands-down best night of her ten-year-old life. october 19, 1994 - the night that she decided that one day, she’d be a musician.

her elementary school hadn’t had the funding needed for music classes, but her middle school did, and for the first time, dali was actually passionate about what she was learning. after experimenting a bit with each instrument, she finally settled on the electric guitar, and even though she couldn’t go off sheet music like everyone else, she dedicated all of her focus to memorising notes and chords through muscle memory. her mother bought her a second-hand guitar ( a 1972 competition fender mustang, orange ) for her eleventh birthday, and literally every spare moment dali had was spent practicing and memorising.

on the night of her first proper performance, doing guitar and backing vocal for her music class group’s rendition of footloose for her school showcase, one of their lead singers dropped out last minute, and so her teacher asked her to fill in. without really thinking, she said yes - and the experience was incredible. before then, she’d only wanted to play music, but from then on, she knew that she would.

forming a band was her biggest priority when she got to highschool - cadenza was an obvious choice, but it took a bit longer for her to properly ask ritenuto to join up. when they got to rehearsing, though, she knew her hesitation had been utterly unwarranted - killer conclusions, she knew for sure, was going to make it big. they were perfect.

she didn’t end up graduating with high enough grades to go to college, but it wasn’t as if she’d been planning on going, so it really wasn’t that big a deal - afterall, it left her with plenty of free time to work, both for money ( having a position as a cleaner at a local stadium ) and on music for the band. when she, cadenza, and ritenuto decided to move into their own place, leaving jodie behind was heartbreaking, and on her final night in their apartment she silently vowed that to make up for all she’d done for her, she’d buy her mother her own house as soon as the band got big.

the next few years of her life were solely dedicated to working, so when they finally got a call from someone at atlas, it was starting to feel like everything was paying off. the gig at club 2000 was more like a tech rehearsal than anything else, so when it went off perfectly, she came out of it feeling as if nothing could go wrong.

and then it did.

coming back felt like stepping onto a final stair that isn’t really there. it was a terrifying experience, but once she got past the shock, dali was just angry. angry at the other driver, sure, but mostly, she was angry at herself for not just sabotaging her future, but getting her two best friends killed. right now, she’s really struggling to move past the fact she’d dead, and is still harbouring a lot of that guilt and anger - moving on isn’t much of a priority, not yet, not until she can somehow make things right.

HEADCANONS !

dali was named after salvador dalí, but if she hadn’t been born a girl, jodie would’ve named her casper, a name that she’d loved since she was a kid - this would have been able to add a slightly ironic note of humour to the whole being-a-ghost situation, but tragically, chance doesn’t care for comedy.

she’d always wanted to get plenty of tattoos, but she ended up dying with just the one - an angry-looking gamecock rooster on the back of her left shoulder, designed by her mother and chosen in honour of her childhood nickname, ‘chook’.

bill & ted’s excellent adventure is the first movie she remembers going to see at a cinema, and it’s still her favourite to this day, though it’s closely followed by baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet, which also served as her bi awakening.

though she probably could have upgraded at some point, the only guitar she’s ever happily called her own is her old orange fender mustang.

born on the 18th of april, 1984, dali’s an aries sun, sagittarius moon, scorpio rising.

when she first decided she wanted to be part of a band when she was a kid, she was absolutely set on the name ‘the billy goats gruff’, and though she did eventually change her mind, one of her favourite jackets did have an angry-looking goat patch on it in honour of what could have been.

jodie had a policy of total honesty while raising her daughter, so dali grew to be a very honest person - occasionally, brutally so. because of this, she never really had a need to hide her feelings, either from others or herself, so with only a minute few exceptions, she’s pretty no holds barred about how she’s feeling. though her honesty can make her very harsh at times, it also gives her a certain earnesty when she says how much she loves those around her.

when she was alive, dali was a genuinely good cook - she’d often have to make dinner for herself and her mother since jodie would work pretty late a lot of the time, and i like to think she would’ve cooked for the band when they got their own place.

tall queen at 5′10″

big on the warm colours - reds, oranges, yellows, give her all of it. in terms of her fashion in general, she’s pretty much incapable of going monochrome, and always liked to spice things like her jackets up with a decent few patches.

she doesn’t know who her father is, but with jodie being the incredible mother she was, she never really felt like she was missing anything. as of yet, she hasn’t been able to try and find out what happened to her mother.

dali’s favourite genre is, obviously, rock, with some of her favourite bands being ac/dc, squeeze, the rolling stones, and queen ( to name a few ) but she’s not opposed to a bit of pop - abba holds a special place in her heart, and if she’d lived four more years she would’ve been a huge fan of mika when he took off in 2009.

she’s always been a huge people person - whenever the band performed, she was literally incapable of not bantering with the audience at least a tiny bit.

#♫ / crescendo — about !#phqs.intro #tw death #THIS IS SO WORDY whoops im so sorry i just love my girl !!#proofread a few times but sorry if i missed any misspellings/grammar fuckups #anyway the main point im trying to get across is stan jodie stratford <333

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motherlifesucher-archives · 5 years

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call her señorita l Shawn Mendes imagine.

summary: she feels like her worst fears are becoming a reality after watching Shawn’s video with Camila Cabello.

She remembers perfectly the day Shawn told her he was making a new song with Camila.

She couldn’t really help the weird feeling that made it through her body, something like electricity as she could barely stop her eyes from closing.

“That’s great, baby. I’m sure it’s going to be a hit.” (Y/N) gave Shawn a tight smile.

Shawn grabbed her hand. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s nothing. I’m happy with you and she’s happy with her boyfriend, we just had this idea...” Shawn started rambling, but she interrupted him.

“Shawn, you don’t have to give me an explanation. I know she’s your friend and I trust our relationship, you don’t have to feel like you’re doing something wrong.” She caressed his cheek.

That conversation had taken place almost nine months ago. Now, she was silently staring at the wall as she watched the music video. Well, at least she tried to after closing her laptop several times when the scenes got too much for her to watch.

She knew she was overreacting, there was nothing to be done and it probably was her mind playing games on her.

but maybe, just maybe... it wasn't that she was delusional, maybe it was the reality hitting her on the face as she watched her boyfriend with the woman he used to have a crush on and much of the show business world wanted them together.

As if a weird coincidence or conspiracy was playing against her, Alexa started playing the song Why by Shawn, and she truly felt like she could punch a hole through her apartment wall.

She ignored Shawn’s call, knowing it wasn’t going do to any good to have a conversation right now. she simply activated the do not disturb and stared at the ceiling.

She hoped her luck would change by the morning, but she opened the BuzzFeed app to catch up and noticed a headline that caught her attention.

Camila Cabello and her boyfriend have broken up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A perfect storm, because she didn’t need to open her Instagram to know that her posts were filled with comments of people telling her to leave Shawn so that he and Camila could finally be together.

She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding Shawn. Warily answering his texts, saying she had fallen asleep last night and wasn’t able to respond. It didn’t take long for Shawn to call her, she sighed before picking up.

“Hey you, you had me worried.” Shawn said and she knew he was sipping on his coffee.

“Hey... I’m sorry, I was just so tired and went to be early.”

“’s okay,” Silence filled the line. “Did you watch the video?” Shawn asked, knowing deep inside of him that she hadn’t been tired last night, she was just ignoring him.

“I did.” She answered too quickly.

Shawn breathed in deeply, “Did you like it?”

“Of course, it was great.”

“(Y/N)...” Shawn closed his eyes and ran a hand through his curls.

“Look, I have a busy day and have to go, sorry.” She could feel her eyes filling with tears as she spoke.

“I know you are not okay.” Shawn insisted.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Her voice raised. “Call me when you know which day you’ll be back, okay?”

Shawn sighed, “okay,” He didn’t know what else to say, “Hey, I love you.”

A smile creeped on her lips, “I love you, Shawn.”

An entire day went by and Shawn told her they could spend the weekend together. She knew these days were rare and had to be appreciated deeply, but she couldn’t help the jealousy that cursed her blood as she kept replaying the images of her boyfriend and his friend sharing a couple of tender touches, even if it was a music video.

But she opened Instagram and saw Shawn, Camila and his team posting photos of them when they weren’t rolling. And the one were the entire team that worked on the video and they had their hands linked as Shawn hugged her from behind.

This was more than just jealousy, she felt humiliated in front of the world as now even her friends were calling her and asking if everything was alright, not because of the video, but because of the photo of them after the video.

Maybe now she wasn’t overreacting as tabloids were reaching her to ask her opinion and a confirmation of the end of hers and Shawn’s relationship.

All go these factors combined had as a result that she flinched when Shawn knocked on the door, still carrying his suitcase and wearing a youth hoodie and sweatpants.

He tried to hug her, but her body went rigid the moment his warm body touched hers.

Shawn closed his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed by the situation.

“You have got to be shitting me, (Y/N).” Shawn told her, harshly letting go of his carry-on suitcase.

“Do not treat me like that.” She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

“Like what? Like a crazy person? Because you are being crazy and paranoid right now!” Shawn paced around the living room. “Jesus, I can’t believe this is the one weekend off I get and you decide to play the psycho girlfriend.”

Tears built in her eyes. “Oh my God, Shawn. I haven’t said anything, stop treating me like garbage.”

His eyes softened and shook his head. “Hon, I’m sorry, I'm just stressed.”

“Stressed? Have been people calling you in the middle of the night because they want you to confirm you left me for Camila? About what were my thoughts on meeting with Matthew and talk about how you and Camila left us to be together?”

“You should be used to this by now, (Y/N)!” He rubbed his eyes, obvious tiredness hiding behind them.

“Well, I am not! Because you never really gave me a reason to not trust you around other people, but the only thing I've felt lately is like a third choice and like trash, because everyone is making me feel like I don’t matter and like I am an obstacle for you and her being together, and you haven’t made it any easier, Shawn!”

“What the fuck do you want me to do?” He laughed humorlessly. “It’s my job, and now I am fucking leaving because clearly you do not want to understand.”

She started crying. “I understand that, I know that it is your job. what I do not understand is why you, and her, and your entire fucking team keeps posting shit with the two of you holding hands while you look at her like you want to fuck her,” She covered her face in a useless attempt to stop her tears. “And not only that, it’s like you are longing for her, and don’t tell me I'm crazy because I know you, Shawn.”

Shawn just stood there, quiet, trying to process his girlfriend’s words. The only thing that reached his ears were the quiet sobs of (Y/N) as she tried to recover her breath to keep talking.

“I’ve grown used to people hating on me. I get it, it’s part of being in love with you, but situations like these make me question if it’s worth it,” She closed her eyes as her breathing quickened. “Now leave, you should enjoy your weekend off.”

Shawn sighed, “I’m not leaving you in this state, (Y/N).”

“Don’t worry about me, I'll be fine. Just please don’t treat me like a mad woman and admit you feel something for her, I know there are songs about her. And after you come to terms with it, you should have the decency to tell me. Talk to you later.”

Shawn was leaving when guilt overtook his senses and made him stop while he was crossing the door.

“I kissed her, while we were filming.”

Suddenly, the tears stopped.

“What?” She mumbled quietly. So quietly he barely heard her.

“It was on the spur of the moment, neither of us planned for it to happen.”

It was her turn to bitterly laugh, “Yet you had the nerve to call me crazy, Shawn. This is so fucked up. How long ago was this?”

Shawn closed his eyes and didn’t want to answer until he heard her yelling for him to tell her.

“Three months ago.”

“Fuck. Shawn, get the fuck out.” She wasn’t crying anymore, because she knew it wasn’t all in her mind.

“No. I have to explain.”

“There’s nothing, Shawn, absolutely nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

“I didn’t want to tell you because it meant nothing. That’s why you don’t have to worry, because I know for a fact that I felt nothing when I kissed her, the only person I want to kiss and love is you.”

“Bullshit. Now, get out.”

“Promise you’ll call before I leave.”

“I don’t have to promise you anything, Shawn. I don’t know if you realize, but you just confessed that you cheated on me. Now, please leave.”

Shawn shook his head before getting out of the apartment, knowing she’d cry herself to sleep and he’d toss and turn knowing he made a mistake.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes au meme #Shawn Mendes angst #shawn mendes x reader

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here4theheartbreak · 4 years

Text

Birthday Surprise (YoonMin)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Yoongi x Jimin

Genre(s): Smut

Rating: Explicit

Tags: smut, PWP, canon compliant, dirty talk, bottom!Jimin, top!Yoongi, rough sex, bareback, under-negotiated kink, vibrators, cock warming, spanking, Jimin’s a brat

Summary: Jimin decides to surprise Yoongi for his birthday, but gives Yoongi more than they bargained for.

Word Count: ~2.7k

A/N: Written for Yoongi’s birthday 2020. Hope everyone enjoys!

Yoongi shuffled over to his door and opened it a crack at the sound of someone knocking. Jimin stood in the doorway, a small wrapped box in his hands. “Happy birthday, hyung.” He held out the box. “I know you’re working, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You never bother me, Jimin. Come in for a few minutes?”

Jimin grinned, nodding. Yoongi opened the door wider, allowing him entrance before shutting it once more. As soon as the lock clicked, Jimin pressed himself against Yoongi, kissing him. Yoongi sighed contentedly. Jimin was truly his constant. No matter how busy he got working or how up in his head he got worrying, Jimin was there to drag him back to earth with a simple smile, a kiss, or some gentle affection. He wrapped his arms around Jimin’s shoulders, slowly deepening the kiss. His hands slid over Jimin’s muscular back and down, sliding into the back of his sweatpants to give his ass a firm squeeze.

Jimin pulled back, and Yoongi whined softly, opening his eyes. “Tease,” he complained.

“I am not. You just need to open your present.” Jimin held out the box again.

Yoongi chuckled. He sat back down in his chair, tearing open the shining paper. Inside was a simple white box. He opened the lid and smiled softly. The bracelet was simple and inobtrusive, just a gold and silver band, twisted together in alternating colors. It was perfect for his style.

“It’s beautiful, Jimin. Thank you.” Yoongi took it out, examining the metalwork a moment before putting it on his wrist. He reached out for Jimin, pulling him into his lap and pressing a kiss to his mouth. “You always buy the perfect gifts for people.”

“It’s a gift,” Jimin joked. “But that wasn’t your only gift.”

“Hm, you spoil me,” Yoongi said, chuckling. “What else is there?”

Jimin stripped out of his hoodie and dropped it on the floor, nudging it under Yoongi’s desk.

“A strip tease?”

“Nooo,” Jimin sing-songed. He grabbed Yoongi’s phone and unlocked it (the only member Yoongi had ever given permission to do so) and pulled up a nondescript app. Yoongi’s heart began to race as soon as he saw it.

“You’re not…”

“I am,” Jimin whispered. The app was the remote control to a small vibrator that the two had bought on a whim a few months back. Though they were often too busy to really spend the time they wanted being intimate, the use of this worked wonders for teasing and promises of more later on. Yoongi couldn’t count the number of interviews, both at home and abroad, that Jimin had been wearing the toy, squirming and doing all he could to remain straight faced while Yoongi teased the intensity of the vibration up or down with his phone.

“Well now, that seems more of a gift for you,” Yoongi teased, but still thumbed the vibration on and upped it just to watch Jimin squirm on his lap.

“Hm, that part, maybe. But I know you’re so busy right now… I wanted to help you out… Relieve some stress…” He sank onto his hoodie on the floor and slid his palms over Yoongi’s thighs. “Keep you… Warm,” he breathed, grabbing Yoongi’s jeans and beginning to undo them. Yoongi’s eyes fluttered shut and his nostrils flared. Jimin knew every single button he had, and just how to push them. And cock warming… That was a giant green button that they rarely got a chance to push. Usually he was working with the other rappers or producers, or if he was alone, Jimin was too busy to join him.

“Please—” The word slipped from his lips before he could stop himself.

“You don’t need to beg, baby. You’re always so busy. I’m happy to help. And I cleared my schedule for the night.” Jimin tugged at Yoongi’s jeans as he spoke, making Yoongi shift his hips up to get them down. He moved forward and pulled his cock from the hole in his boxers.

“Which means you can keep me… All night long,” Jimin whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to Yoongi’s tip, rolling his eyes up to look at him.

“Fuck,” Yoongi stroked his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “You’re perfect.”

Jimin grinned broadly at that, and gave his cock a little stroke.

“Shh.. Don’t—” Yoongi grabbed his wrist. “If I get too hard I’m going to need to come. You be my little cockwarmer for a few hours while I work, okay? Don’t make me hard… Just keep it warm. I’ll tell you when to do more.”

Jimin nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Yoongi shuddered at that. He let Jimin settle under the desk and rolled his chair in, getting comfortable in his spot before patting his lap. Jimin’s mouth was teasingly warm and wet. His cock twitched against Jimin’s tongue, and he chuckled when Jimin huffed a breath of warm air onto his groin. Yoongi placed is phone on the desk beside his keyboard, and dialed up the vibration just a hair. He felt Jimin shift.

“You can’t come until I do, Minie,” he said casually as he woke up his computer and put his headphones on to work once more.

Jimin was wildly distracting. Yoongi knew he didn’t mean to be, he really was trying his hardest to behave. But the soft puffs of air across Yoongi’s groin, the way his tongue shifted when he swallowed, even the slightly warmer, damp pooling of spit behind his closed lips – it was killing Yoongi. Every fifteen or twenty minutes, he shifted the vibrations, giving himself a jolt of arousal when Jimin suddenly shifted. He remained soft – mostly – but he’d managed only a few seconds of the track he was working on in over half an hour. After an hour (and only forty-five seconds of the track complete), Yoongi gave up. He closed out of his program and took his headphones off. He was just about to tell Jimin to get him hard when the dastardliest plan occurred. He reached down, stroking his fingers through Jimin’s hair comfortingly.

As he did, he pulled up an internet browser and flipped to V Live. He loaded up a livestream, watching the numbers slowly increase before waving at the camera and offering a lazy smile.

“Hey everyone.”

Under the desk, Jimin tried to pull off his cock, but Yoongi gripped his hair, holding him still. He patted his head softly. “Figured I’d come on, say hi. Since it’s my birthday.” He sat quietly for a moment, reading over the comments. As he did, he touched his phone, twisting the dial for Jimin’s vibrator up a little. Jimin swallowed against his cock and Yoongi’s eyes fluttered before he could help himself.

“Uh, yeah—Yeah it’s… It’s been a good day. Just been working on some new music.” He huffed a soft laugh, still stroking his fingers through Jimin’s hair absently. “What songs? Good ones. I can’t say. How does everyone like the new album?”

He leaned forward, squinting at the screen. Jimin shifted and Yoongi’s fingers tightened in his hair for a moment. When Jimin hesitated, he swallowed.

“Yeah, I’m glad. You guys really went all out. The support’s been great. Honestly, I—” The words died in Yoongi’s throat when Jimin shifted again and sucked firmly at his cock. He began to thicken almost immediately against Jimin’s tongue, and his eyes fluttered. “I—” He cleared his throat and tried to smile and refocus his attention. “It’s been a long day, clearly. I know the members are all wanting to have a small celebration for me but I t—” He wet his lips, struggling to keep his face neutral when Jimin bobbed his head. “Told them not to.” He turned the vibration up further, and Jimin made a small huffing noise that had Yoongi’s heart clenching. He scanned the comments, terrified someone had heard it. When all seemed safe, he tapped Jimin’s cheek warningly before clearing his throat and leaning forward, trying to read the rapidly scrolling comments. He repeated a few questions and statements, giving vague answers as needed. It wasn’t that he wanted to be vague. But Jimin had begun to bob his head in earnest now, making Yoongi’s cock thicken fully and a tight knot of need twist in his stomach. Cutting the chat too short would look even more suspicious, and as it was, some fans were worrying about how tired or ‘out of it’ he sounded.

“I think Namjoonie is going to go on V Live after promotions, do his album breakdown like he always does. He’s so much better at discussing it than I am, you should all look forward to that,” he stuttered, trying to sound at least semi-coherent.

Yoongi tugged Jimin’s hair as well as he could without drawing attention, a subtle warning that Jimin – as per his usual bratty self – decided not to heed. Instead he whined again, a little more audibly, and sucked Yoongi’s cock harder.

Yoongi swallowed down the panic that rose in his throat when a few fans in the chat asked if he had Yeontan or Holly with him. He cleared his throat and stretched both arms back, taking the movement to turn Jimin’s vibrator off completely as he did.

“Well, I would love to chat longer, I know it’s only been a bit, but I should get working. Lots to do,” he offered a bright smile. “I’ll try to get back on soon though. I know the members will probably post stuff for my birthday on Twitter, that is always an adventure – seeing what they deem good to upload.” Yoongi shook his head and chuckled before waving and offering what he hoped was a sincere smile. He clicked the chat off and slid back.

Jimin let him go and grinned up at him from under the desk. “You didn’t tell me you were going to talk to fans.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going to be a disobedient little punk.” Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s hair, yanking to drag him out from under the desk, Jimin hissed and moaned softly, obeying. Yoongi rose, going nose to nose with him. He kissed him hard and turned him, shoving so he had to place his hands on the desk to keep himself upright. “Stay.”

He grabbed a small bottle of lube from his desk and yanked Jimin’s pants down, palming his ass before slapping it.

Jimin’s cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red when he looked at the computer and noticed that V Live – though not livestreaming, was still pulled up. He met Yoongi’s gaze in the video’s reflection. Yoongi smirked.

“You want to be disobedient, you can be. All it would take is one wrong movement. A single button press… And thousands of fans would see this. See you bent over the desk about to take my cock up your ass. Imagine all the screen shots. The scandal it would cause.” Yoongi slapped his ass again and Jimin whined.

“Please—”

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

Yoongi smirked. He leaned over Jimin, pressing his cock between his pert cheeks. “Louder.”

“Fuck me,” Jimin growled.

“I said louder, Minie. Not sassier.” Yoongi slapped his ass again. Jimin hissed.

“Fuck me!” He snarled, looking back at Yoongi.

Yoongi smirked. He smacked his ass harder this time, watching the way it jiggled and reddened. “You’d like that. You were being such a disobedient little shit while I was talking to our fans. And on my birthday. So rude.” He spread Jimin’s ass as he spoke, thumbing over the vibrator edge. Without warning, he grabbed and yanked. Jimin went forward, swearing. He bucked his hips back toward Yoongi.

“You’d like it, wouldn’t you?” Yoongi asked. He set the toy aside and opened the lube, drizzling the cold gel so it ran down Jimin’s ass.

“What?” Jimin panted, shuddering. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and Yoongi couldn’t help but squeeze his ass once more, dragging a whine from him.

“If the site glitched. If we went live, just like this. I heard you talking to Taehyung. How nice it would be if you could come out, be open. That would certainly make a splash. And you’re such a kinky little brat… You’d love thousands to see your pretty face moaning for me, wouldn’t you?”

Jimin didn’t answer right away. Yoongi, pushed some of the lube over his hole, sliding a finger in easily and tugging at his rim. “Wouldn’t you?” He repeated.

“Yes,” Jimin huffed. “Thought so.” Yoongi slicked his own cock before driving his cock deep. He wrapped an arm around Jimin’s middle and pressed against his back, savoring not only the slick, tight heat of his ass, but also the way his entire body tensed and relaxed, and the low vibration of a groan that could be felt through his spine as he moaned happily.

Yoongi began to move right away, not wanting to draw out either of their agony any more than necessary. His thrusts were deep and powerful, jarring the computer and trinkets on his table. Jimin moaned and whined freely, and Yoongi was glad for the soundproofing in his studio. He pressed kisses to the back of Jimin’s sweat slicked neck, his hair tickling his nose as he did so. His free hand slid up, covering Jimin’s. Almost by instinct, their fingers tangled against the desk and Jimin pleaded his name.

Yoongi slid the hand arm around Jimin’s waist down, wrapping his hand around his stiff cock. He thumbed the precome slick tip, gasping when Jimin clenched around him. He began to stroke Jimin in time with his thrusts, his teeth finding Jimin’s pulse point and clamping down.

After being together this long, they could get one another to orgasm in mere minutes, or have it take an hour or two. Right now, the knot of desperation and the burning ache in Yoongi’s stomach was leading him to the minute mark. He needed to come, to make Jimin come, to hear him cry out and that delicious clench of his body.

Jimin began to snap his hips back, his desperate moans rising in intensity. He reached his free hand back, his short nails biting into Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Please,” he begged, nuzzling his head as well as he could against Yoongi’s cheek. “Please come in me, hyung.”

Yoongi’s teeth dug deeper into Jimin’s shoulder, a desperate growl slipping from his own throat. He braced himself a little better, beginning to thrust harder and faster into Jimin’s pliant body. He was so close. Just a bit more and he’d be there. He began to stroke Jimin faster, his wrist twisting at the tip each time.

Jimin’s body went rigid under him. He clenched impossibly tight, dropping his head onto the desk as he shouted Yoongi’s name. His cock throbbed in Yoongi’s grip, spilling ropes of come onto the floor.

The fluttering, clenching of Jimin’s ass and the almost painful grip of his rim dragged Yoongi over the edge. He drove deep and came with a grunt and a whisper of Jimin’s name, letting Jimin’s body milk him of every drop he could offer.

When he felt he could move again, Yoongi dragged the chair closer with his foot, slumping into it. He dragged Jimin with him, nosing and kissing at his neck. Jimin giggled tiredly, nuzzling against him.

“Happy birthday, Yoongi-hyung.”

Yoongi huffed a laugh. “You are insufferable, Jimin.”

“You love me.”

“Hm. Yeah, I do.” He kissed Jimin’s mouth. “I can’t believe you sucked my cock in front of that many people.”

“That was not the plan. I was really just going to be a warmer but… You went live and I couldn’t resist.”

“Well, it was fun.” He kissed Jimin again. “I do really have to get some work done though.”

“Can I nap on your couch?”

Yoongi nodded.

“After we can go to dinner? Just us?”

“I’d like that.” Jimin grinned and rose. He fixed his pants and grabbed tissues, cleaning the mess on the floor before grabbing his hoodie and hurrying over to the couch. He curled up on it, using his hoodie as a pillow. Yoongi fixed his own pants and looked over at his boyfriend, smiling softly. He rose and padded over to the couch curling up behind Jimin and wrapping an arm around his middle. Work could wait a few hours. This was a far better way to spend his birthday.

#yoonmin #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #armiesnet #mygsnet #jimin x yoongi #yoongi x jimin #jimin x suga #suga x jimin #smut #bottom!jimin #mywriting

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fullyellowsun · 3 years

Text

Park Village | 5

Hello Everyone:

I do not own the gif, credit to the owner.

Constructive criticisms are welcome! This is in Korean so for those of you who can read Korean and English, go ahead! I will post a full English version link to the Wattpad story in the masterlist! (Juyeon/주연 could be you.)

I miss EXO so much...

Pairing: okay, maybe one more...

Genre: kpop idol’s relative!AU

Word Count: 1220 words

Description: Juyeon meets the rest of EXO and is invited to go ice skating with them.

Masterlist

The next morning I wake up at 7 to get ready since Chanyeol said we're leaving at 9. I shower, dry and curl my hair and do my makeup. I changed into a white polo crop top and mini skirt set and go to make breakfast for Chanyeol. He comes out after showering and sits at the table.

"Sooo where are we going my favorite cousin?" I say as I place the plate of food in front of him.

"I'll tell you when we get there." He says.

"Awww... then I would already know where we're going." Chanyeol finally takes a good look at me spits out his food.

"Is THAT what you're wearing?"

"Uhh yeah, why?"

"Did you see those guys yesterday who were staring at you and if one more button was unbuttoned, they would've eaten you. Sehun was staring you down and Kai was licking his lips ready to pounce on you. Oh, and Baekhyun was just flat out in awe. His mouth was open and was staring at you."

"Huh? When? Sehun would barely spare me a glance and Kai would totally distance himself from me... and well Baekhyun, I don't know since he was so crazy."

"Over you..."

"Ughh fine, I'll change." I go to change my pants into straight leg jeans and leave feeling quite annoyed. Why does he always get a say in what I wear? "This better?!"

"Yes... much... 인정, 예뻐." He says and leaves to put his dish in the sink.

"Wait, wait, wait... say that again, I didn't get to record it." I open the recording app and cling to him.

"What's done is done, if you didn't hear, too bad." He leaves for the car and I instantly run after him in a better mood. Chanyeol and I, like always, jam out to music and the car ride felt like it was over in a few seconds. I guess time does fly when you're having fun. We arrive in front of a large house... thing?

"I know I said that I would know where we were when we got there but I have no idea what or where this is." I say staring at the building.

"Welcome to our dorm." He says. I shriek. EXO's dorm? 대박... this is not a dream, right? Suho runs down in a plush robe.

"Is everything okay?" He asks out of breath. "Oh, hi Juyeon. Was that you screaming?"

"Uhh... yeah, sorry." I say.

"Let's go inside before someone spots us." Suho says. We all head inside and there was a shoe rack and a flight of stairs and a door next to the shoe rack.

"Hyung... put on some clothes!" Chanyeol says as he takes off his shoes. Suho looks at his outfit and looks at him.

"What are you talking about? This IS my outft!" He starts walking up the stairs and Chanyeol and I follow him. The rest of the members were upstairs eating breakfast.

"Ooohh... hi Juyeon." Baekhyun waves at me as I enter the room. There was a kitchen and dining room and a couch. There was also a hallway with another flight of stairs, the bathroom, and a bedroom. "Sit down." There was an empty seat at the table.

"Wait, that's my seat!" Chanyeol rushes to "his seat" and so I just sit on his lap. "야, get off." He tries to push me off.

"Hey! I wanna sit too! You want me to sit on Baekhyun's lap instead?" I say. Chanyeol shakes his head and wraps his arms around my waist to keep me there.

"No way you're sitting there. Stay here. I'm fine." The others laugh at our conversation. I realize that everyone was there so I decide to introduce myself. I straighten my hair (because it was ruined by Chanyeol) and clear my throat.

"안녕하세요. I'm Chanyeol's cousin, Juyeon. 방가워요." I bow my head slightly.

"안녕!" The members I didn't meet yesterday wave at me.

"I heard you already know about us and like us before you met Chanyeol so should we introduce ourselves?" Xiumin says.

"No, it's fine."

"Did you guys want some food?" D.O. asks.

"Nah, I already ate breakfast. Did you want some 오빠?" I turn around to look at Chanyeol.

"Uhh... no." He gives me a weird look. I tilt my head confused.

"What?" He flicks his head to show me the confused looking members.

"Didn't you just meet like 2 days ago?" Xiumin asks.

"That's what I said yesterday!" Baekhyun says.

"What? Is that weird?" I ask confused.

"Yeah... it is."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it's kinda weird to call someone you like just met, 오빠."

"I don't think so, he's family so we should be close, right? Besides, we're already pretty close."

"Then can you call me 오빠?"

"Me too."

"Me too!"

"You already call me 오빠. Keep on doing so." Almost everyone at the table asked me to call them 오빠... well except for Xiumin and D.O. who I just met.

"Alright... umm... 오빠들." They cheer. I blush and look down. They finished their food and so they put their dishes in the sink and make their way to the couch. "Wait I'm confused, 오빠, do you guys like not have work today?" Everyone except for Xiumin and D.O. turn their heads to look at me.

"Which one?" Kai asks.

"Uhh... oh right, aish, now I have to call you guys 오빠 AND your name. Whichever one although I was talking to CHANYEOL 오빠."

"We were gonna to a cafe and ice skate. We asked Chanyeol to invite you."

"Chanyeol 오빠! You should've told me! I'm not ready to go ice skating. I'm over here wear a crop top and jeans. Not appropriate attire for ice skating." I say slightly annoyed and hit Chanyeol hard enough to make his arm sore.

"Oww... 미안." He says rubbing his arm.

"You just borrow one of my sweatshirts." Baekhyun pipes up. He goes up the stairs and grabs a gray sweatshirt. I took it gratefully and wear it. It was very big on me and thin but surprisingly warm.

"고마워 오빠." I say smiling. Baekhyun grabs his heart and tilts his head back like he was shot.

"아!!! 심쿵! Ahh the cuteness overload!"

"Oh my god Baekhyun, stop over reacting, she literally just smiled." Chanyeol says rolling his eyes.

"I know... but still-" Baekhyun starts.

"Her smile is like gold to some of us hyung." Sehun says. I look at him surprised. "What can I say," he shrugs, "that smile IS gold." The Sehun from yesterday who barely spared me a glance is complimenting MY smile? What a change of attitude?! Everyone stares at him with surprised eyes. "Ahhh, now I'm embarrassed, I thought that was cool. Can we just go?" He gets up and goes downstairs, puts on his shoes, and gets in one of the black vans waiting for us in the driveway. The others shrug and follow.

Masterlist

#exo #exo baekhyun #exo chanyeol #exo kai #exo suho #exo chen #exo xiumin #exo sehun #exo junmyeon #exo do #exo kyungsoo #exo park chanyeol #korea

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imagine-lcorp · 5 years

Text

The Song of the Sea (One Shot)

A/N: Hello my dear beans. First of all, HAPPY HALLOWEEN to y’all, I hope you enjoyed or are still enjoying the day/night, here’s still halloween night so...Anyway, here’s a little fic to celebrate this night. You know I love these days, Halloween and Day of the dead are my fav holidays, and I’m sorry this year I couldn’t write more, but here you go. I hope you enjoy this little thing and as always tell me waht you think! I love you all!!!!

Lena Luthor x Siren!R//Word Count: 2,106

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The pub is full as what feels like hundreds of people are gathered around. It is an ocean of colorful people, and they barely leave space for the wait staff to pass with their trays and drinks. Most of them dressed for the occasion.

She can see a couple of zombies on a booth at the far end. Frankenstein's monster is seated a few places away from her drinking a margarita and some pirates are gathered at a table chewing some fries. And Lena just can't seem to understand why so many people would gather on Halloween night on a place like this. She had even forgotten it was Halloween until she entered the pub and saw their costumes. Even more, she forgot why she came in the first place, although the answer is quite simple.

She, and they, came to hear you sing.

She had left her office, driving around the city without a route but hoping to clear her mind from a complicated day, and had ended up near the port of the city. She had wanted to keep driving until the echo of a song, like a lullaby, reached her ears. She soon found herself stopping near by just to hear it more clearly.

The music was coming from a pub, the "Black Flag" it read on the old-fashioned sign hung outside, and she had entered with little worry about where she was going to sit or what she was going to drink. She just needed to hear that song.

Her eyes roam the little stage on the corner of the pub as she sits on a high chair on the bar. There seem to be no sign of you, and she fears you are gone now.

"You also come to hear her, don't you?" The bartender, who truly looks and sounds like a pirate with his old red beard and raspy accent.

Lena hesitates for a moment before answering. "Yes, I heard the song from outside. Sounded interesting enough to come and peak a bit."

"Same as all of them." He points at the rest of the people with the old rag he has on his hand and then uses it to clean the table.

"Who is playing tonight?" She asks.

"She says she's Siren. Must be her stage name, never told me her real one."He responds with a frown."She came before we opened and asked me to play tonight. The bar has never been this full before. Not even when I first opened it." He responds cleaning his hands with the same rag.

Lena frowns at this. Being the business woman she is, she can't understand why having full house may be bad, but not many things seem to make sense tonight.

"I'm sure it may be good for the business, right?"

"Call me an old fool, ma'am, but when a stranger drags this many people with only her voice and a couple of ol' songs, I worry. But yes, it's good for business."He stops for a moment to look at the small stage with a hint of concern."Can I offer you something?"

She is left a moment later with a glass of cheap whisky on the rocks in front of her. She thanks him, swirls the glass in her hand and takes a sip of it while waiting for you to return to the stage.

Lena looks at her surroundings and she is sure this is not the kind of place she would be walking in on her own free will. She wonders how old must be the owner and in which century he must have opened the place for it to look this old and dark and, for the first time since she arrived, she also notices the faces around her. It is mostly men that fill the place and, if she looks carefully at them, they also seem to be confused as to why they are here.

Nothing happens for a while, but she waits and when her glass is almost empty, a voice inside of her tells her it is better if she leaves now, while she can. She tries to shake the thought, not wanting to believe how close it sounds to a warning. But to wait in a such a place is making her uncomfortable and she decides, agreeing with the little voice, that it's indeed time to leave. She's about to stand when she catches a figure on the corner of her eye, walking towards the stage.

Her eyes turn to look at you, at the way you walk and move around the crowd and the way you take a seat in front of the cheap keyboard that's up there. Not many people around notice you but once you start playing all eyes are on you. There's nothing special about the way you play or the melody itself but she stops.

Lena is sure she has heard that before, in a dream, in a nightmare, in some place far away. She can't pinpoint it clearly but when you open your mouth and the first note comes out she knows. Her mother used to sing that to her long time ago.

Soon the melody of the piano is forgotten, and only your voice fills the space. Everyone's attention is on you, and some don't even notice their own bodies moving closer towards you.

The song finishes then and it seems to be the last of the night as you finally stand up and go to the back door, leaving the crowd behind. No one claps, no one breathes. They are left in a dream needing more of your voice but knowing, deep inside, that it may be dangerous to follow.

However, someone does. A man, dressed as a pirate who looks dumb and dangerous enough to make Lena worry. It takes a moment for her to shake herself out of trance and follow behind.

"So do you know any other songs?" The man asks, and Lena doesn't even have to look at him to know he's trying to pull a cocky smile.

"A few." You say walking backwards and looking only at him.

"Perhaps you have one for a brave pirate like me."

"I may." You answer.

"Would you sing for me?"

"For a jolly sailor bold." There's a wicked smile on your lips as you speak. "Of course."

Then you start to sing again.

It starts soft, slow, sweet. You keep your pace, walking slowly backwards towards the port with him following close.

Drawn like a moth to a flame, Lena follows too.

With the man getting closer and closer to you with each step, she only wants to stop him from reaching you. It is the little voice again, warning her. She's not sure if it is because of him or because of you, but she steps out anyway and before she forgets.

"Excuse me?" She says interrupting the song before the man can finally reach you and her voice, she notices, sounds like the wail of an animal compared to yours. "I heard you sing tonight. I was wondering if I could get the name of the song you played."

A spell seems to be broken as you and the man stop.

He looks around and then at you, seemingly uncomfortable and disoriented. You are far away from the pub and standing in the middle of a dock, with the sea just a few meters away. He makes his excuses, wanting to leave fast, and walks back towards the bar like he's in a hurry leaving you both alone.

"Which song?" You ask undisturbed, looking after him as he leaves. It is all the same to you whoever follows you.

"The last one." She answers. She can feel the heat in her cheeks rising, ashamed of the way she interrupted you.

"You just scared my dinner date. Why should I tell you?" Lena watches as you then look at her, something dark behind your eyes.

"My mother used to sing that to me, when I was little. I forgot it until I heard you sing. I don't want to forget again." There is sorrow in her voice when she speaks and you know there's something else behind her words.

"Where is she now?" You ask not out of curiosity but looking for a confirmation, because there's a blue aura surrounding her, the same color and shade of water when you swim beneath the surface. Your gut tells you she's linked, like you, to the water somehow.

"She drowned." She says before turning to look at the ocean behind, surprised by the sincerity of her own words.

You say nothing for a moment, pondering her answer and examining her. You think about her mother, transfigured into waves and foam. A spirit that still looks over her.

"Give me your phone." You say. "Sorry?"

"Your phone." You move your hand towards her, motioning her to do as you say. She searches for her pocket and handles it to you. No more questions asked.

You take her phone and open the recording app. Right away, the night is filled with only the sound of your voice and the push and pull of the waves, and Lena finds herself in a trance once again.

It's the same song, the same lullaby he used to hear too many years ago. She has forgotten most of it, the old Irish words and part of the melody, but each note you reach pulls a string in her heart. Sometimes painful, sometimes joyful. She could live by that sole song if she heard it from you for the rest of her life. But then you reach the end of it and give her phone back.

"It used to be an old folk song." You explain and turn to contemplate the sea. "It's about a woman whose lover sailed away. She hopes the sea will guard him as if he were its own. But then he dies and she goes to find him again on the deeps of the ocean."

Lena takes a few steps and takes a place near you. Looking at the ocean, she imagines her mother is standing on the water, looking at her with eyes full of love and longing. She can almost see herself moving her feet towards the water. Towards her. Maybe, she thinks, her mother was looking at a vision like this when she went swimming and never came back.

"Don't listen to it too often." You hold her arm, stopping her from taking any steps further. "We don't want it to lose its charm."

"Thank you." Lena shakes her head and glances at your hand of her arm. She can feel the heat in her cheeks again. "And sorry I ruined your date."

"Don't worry." You turn and start to walk away. "I will get another later."

"Maybe I can make it up to you." She quickly turns. "Dinner is on me, if you want."

You turn to face her and only then you truly look at her. Her green eyes, her pale skin, her dark hair. She's beautiful indeed. You could take her if you wanted, fair payment for the interruption. But there's something, perhaps the voices of the own nymphs, that tells you you shouldn't drag her with you tonight, that she is worth keeping on the ground for a bit longer.

"Maybe next time." The words escape you before you can stop yourself, and you're sure she has put you under her own spell.

"Next time?" She asks. "And how would I find you, Siren?"

"First, call me (Y/N) and second, just follow my voice." You respond with a little smile and point at her phone. "But remember, don't listen to it that much."

You walk away and disappear into the pier. Lena doesn't follow as she thinks she should but she trusts your words and stays where she is a few minutes longer, turning to watch the waves come and go.

Next morning, she's at her office in CatCo trying to focus on the news reports and articles that must go on the next print run. The screens behind her fill themselves with the news but she doesn't listen to them. There's nothing in them that interests her.

So she ignores the flashing news suddenly popping behind her about the remains of a body found on the shores of National City.

The only thing that she wants to hear at the moment is your voice, singing this song of the sea and the echo of your words as you said to her next time.

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena luthor x female reader #fem!reader #Female reader #fem reader #siren reader #siren!reader #Monster!Reader #one shot #siren

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Hidden In Plain Site (2)- Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2348

A/N: This was inspired by this wonderful post by @starsholland. Without it this would not be happening. This will be a multi part fic, but I don’t know how many chapters or when it will be posted so if you’d like to be tagged let me know:) Welcome to Tom being undercover on Tumblr. Quick notes- Y/T/B = Your Tumblr Blog

Chapter One || Master List

The edit turned out better than you thought it would. You had decided to use blue and red, since they’re Spider-Man colors and it honestly suits Tom and Haz so well. You still are wondering when the picture is from since you scoured the depths of Google and Tumblr to no avail. It’s either really old, or not really posted. Either way it made an adorable edit and will look great in your edit’s tag. It’s also sparked some ideas for a friendship imagine. It’s been so long since you wrote anything, with work and family stuff weighing you down, but you can picture the outline in your head so as soon as you finish the last touches on your outline, you click open a new document and drop a few lines down to get going.

“What you working on?” Your brother calls to you from across the living room. He knows that once you’re home for the afternoon, it’s not normally work stuff, but sometimes your graphic design projects run into your post work day.

“Just some edits. Nothing too big.”

“Bringing work home?”

“Nope, just working on some extra stuff.” You type some more into the document, wanting to make sure that everything is hitting the moment right. In your browser, you pull up your tumblr and make a new post.

Ask me stuff while I work on my latest imagine. Give me a number 1-100 and I’ll give you a song from my writing playlist and a memory attached to it.

Across the ocean, Tom can’t sleep. It’s nearly 3am, but something is keeping his mind from sleeping. He should be able to sleep just fine. He isn’t working on any movies that have him worried, he doesn’t have any auditions coming up, and he doesn’t have press for a few weeks. So why can’t he get to sleep?

Lifting his phone in his hand he sees a notification from Tumblr saying that Y/T/B has posted. He swipes across and waits for the post to load. You want questions? Well, he can help with that. Plus, he’s interested in learning about what kind of music you’re interested in.

Anonymous Asked:

33?

Anonymous Asked:

86?

Anonymous Asked:

69;D

Three Anons come in right after another. You weren’t expecting that quick of a reaction. Sure you had a couple hundred followers, but you didn’t tend to get that many reactions to your posts. At least not back to back. But you’ll take it, and reply. As soon as you send the edit to that blog that asked for it.

You pull up the thread between you and tomholland2013. You click the camera button and upload the edit you had done.

Hey, here’s that edit. Hope this works for you!

Surprisingly, whoever is behind the account messages back immediately.

That looks awesome! Thanks so muchX

Hows your night going?X

More like afternoon here lol. I’m just getting some work done after getting home earlier.

How about you? Is it night there?

It’s like the middle of the night here and I can’t sleepX

If it’s middle of the night there, did you see the news?

What news?X

That Tom saved Spider-Man?! It’s been all over Tumblr since I got home from work.

It’s kind of the reason I made your edit in red and blue tbh.

I hadn’t had time to look at my dashboard to be honest. I’ve been busy with work stuff most of the afternoon.X

It wasn’t a lie. Over the past few days having talks between him, Bob and Tom trying to smooth everything over, there wasn’t much time to glance over the explosion that had happened since the original news had been released. But after clicking send on his message to Y/N, he clicks over to your main blog to see the reaction to the news. There are some general reblogs of the news announcing Spider-Man returning to the MCU but then there were also some general posts about Spider-Man and Peter Parker. Your tags are what really get to him. Some like hashtag my-baby-is-back-where-he-belongs and hashtag get-tom-drunk-more-often-if-it-saves-my-baby. He can’t help but laugh at the last one. True he hadn’t exactly been sober when he and Bob had first talked about getting Spider-Man back in the MCU, but he didn’t think that story would take the world by storm.

Going into his settings, Tom quickly updates his picture with the edit you had done for him. Honestly, it looked better than he had hoped for. You had done Spider-Man colors and if he wasn't trying to keep this blog on the down low, he would share it on his Instagram so his fans could see how talented Y/N was. As he hits save, another message comes through from you.

Do you mind if I use the edit I sent you as inspiration for an imagine?

A what?X

An imagine. It’s a specific type of fanfic. I had a great idea of one while I was working on the edit for you, but if you’re not cool with it, I’ll find a different picture.

You did all the work on it. Feel free to use it. What kind of story?X

Basically like a Tom x Reader with hints of Harrison friendship notes in it. It’s hard to explain lol

Have you written other stuff?X

I think everyone on this site dabbles in it from time to time, but yeah I’ve written a few pieces over the past few years.

Do you have a list of them?X

Sure, it’s here.

You had linked a page in your message. Apparently dabbling meant one.. Two.. three… his finger drags down the page as he counts the stories. Holy hell, you’ve written fifty stories about him, Peter Parker and even some of the other Avengers. But most of them revolve around him and x Reader, whatever that means. You had mentioned it in your message, but he wasn’t sure what it meant.

Ok, I’m new to the whole fanfic thing, so pardon my stupidity but what does x reader mean?X

It’s a self insert fic. Basically anywhere that it says Y/N or you, you put yourself into the fic. They’re one of the most popular types of fics.

Before he can reply to your message, a notification comes up saying that Y/T/B has posted a new post.

Anonymous Asked:

33?

Y/T/B/ Answered: Heather by Conan Gray. So I love this song and totally have screamed along with the chorus of this song when I’m alone at home and writing or in my car driving places (otherwise I would freak my family out). When I wrote a fic called The Smell of Your Sweater, on my master list here, I listened to this song on repeat for three days straight to be in the right mind set. Honestly I could probably listen to this song until the end of time and never get sick of it.

Tom reads over the answer and can picture someone jamming out to a song so much that they love it. He pulls open his Spotify app and pulls up the song, because he wants to feel closer to you, even though you’re time zones apart from each other. The fact that it’s afternoon where you are and nighttime where he is makes him think that you’re in the United States.

So reader insert are some of the most popular type of fics, but what are your favorite to read?X

That’s not even something that I would share on a first date lol you’ll be waiting a bit to find out.

Is sharing that you write fanfic something that you don’t talk about on a date?X

Not normally. Talking about it with tumblr friends is one thing because I link it on my blog, but what I read is a whole nother thing. It literally says so much about you with who you read, what ships you ship, and especially what kinks you look for.

KINKS? IN FANFICS?X

You haven’t read much yet have you?

Literally no. I’ve only been on tumblr since I messaged you the first time. That was the day I made my blogX

So you’ve been on for a month? And you’re deciding to get into fanfics?

No I’m thinking I should stay away from it still. It seems like virtual porn.X

It doesn’t have to have anything smutty in it. Just click on ones that say fluff or don’t say smut next to them. You can also block certain tags so they don’t come up on your dashboard. Like Starker is a popular one to be blocked for a lot of people.

I don’t think I even want to know what that is if people are blocking it who are into this porn esque writing. X

It’s not porn lol You seem to have only found smut so far. We need to find you some fluff. Maybe some Tom x Reader?

Maybe I’m just not ready for it after all.X

Does he want to read about himself? Not at all. That seems creepy. But other people write about him too. It’s not just Y/N. He decides to research this further. In the search bar he types in Tom Holland Fanfic. The first four post all say smut or NSFW so he’s not going to bother reading them, but the thing that catches his eye is the fact that they all have over 2,000 notes on them. Two thousand people have liked or reblogged about him in a sexual way? What the actual flipping hell?

Before he has the chance to flip out even more, another notification from your blog pops up.

Anonymous Asked:

86?

Y/T/B answered: Praying by Kesha. THIS WOMAN COULD MURDER ME AND I WOULD THANK HER FOR IT. Plus that chorus makes me want to write some epic breakup scene and have one of the people begging the other to feel the same as they are feeling. Oooooo maybe I feel a one shot coming up. Anyway, a memory of this song- my best friend and I blasted this song while we drove from California to Philly to visit a school. It literally got us through so many hours of that drive. Kesha is bae lets be real. Or is that not what the cool kids say?

When he sent you these asks, he thought he would get one or two sentences in response, but he’s learning so much about you from all of these asks. Maybe he would send you some non song related ones, maybe some To- Peter Parker ones to see what else you liked. Purely science based research.

If you’re not ready for it, don’t push yourself. Fanfics can be a weird mindset to put yourself in. I used them at first to distract myself from some shitty family stuff that was going on, but now I read and write them for fun too. I think I mainly read Avenger ones at first as well as some TV shows too. Plus would I be a teenage girl if I didn’t read a few Twilight fanfics back in my day?

Twilight? Like Rob-Tom makes himself type out Rob and Kristen’s full names like a fan would-ert Pattinson and Kristen Stewert Twilight?X

That one exactly. I was the generation it was aimed for and so fanfics galore were my teen years. But I’m proud to say I’m a recovered Twihard.

Glad to hear it darlingX

What about you? What were you into as a kid?

I’ve always been a fan of Spider-Man, ever since I was a kid.X

Comics or movies?

Comics. They’re the originalsX

Which Spider-Man is the best?

Is that a trick question? Obviously HollandX

Was that conceited? Maybe. But hopefully, Y/N doesn’t think so. Oh wait she has no idea-

It was a trick question. A trick question that you clearly got right.

Another notification pops up and you suddenly remember the last number that you sent Y/N. Well hopefully the number doesn’t seem like you.

Anonymous Asked:

69;D

Y/T/B Answered: Noice.

But the actual answer is Bad Religion by Frank Ocean. This song got me through my last bout of depression lol. I remember sitting on the floor of my bedroom with the lights off and just playing this song on repeat. Always open about that here. It also gets me to channel some deep emotions into some pieces that I’m working on because it reminds me of being in that dark place. I also really like the beat of this though, like how it sounds like a mix of an electric piano and an organ. So if I ever name a one shot Bad Religion, it’s probably named after this song.

Tom feels like a weight is sinking in his gut. Almost like someone slammed an anchor into the lower part of his bowl. He didn’t mean to bring up something so dark with that number. He was hoping it would actually make her laugh. So guess he will send her one more number, but this one won’t be on anonymous.

Tomholland2013 asked: 36

Huh, he must have seen all the responses you posted. Between posting and replying to him, you hadn’t gotten much work on your imagine done, but you could post once more before jumping back to your word document.

Tomholland2013 asked: 36

Y/B/N answered: The Night We Met by Lord Huron. I literally saw them in concert with my friends last month so a lot of the memories I have of them are about this. But I have a great fanfic idea for this song specifically. To not spoil it completely I’ll just leave you with three spoilers- first date, first dance, secrets spilled. It’s a work in progress.

Now it’s time to get off the internet and back to writing, or else you’re going to Tumblr your day away.

Taglist: @ serendipitous-amor @im-still-tryin-to-find-it

#tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #imanativeofswlondondahling #imanativeofswlondondahling asks #hidden in plain sight

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neo-culture-mafia · 5 years

Text

NCT 2018 Reaction When Someone Disrespects Their S/O [U + 127...Dream is linked]

Hello Lovelies, these will be longer because I’m giving a scenario/blurb for each. Enjoy :) !

Dream / Junior Forces Ver.

LEE TAEYONG

Everyone was on his shit list today, even you at some given moments. He just wanted to get through his damn meetings in peace without listening to his constant update reports. Yet, when someone compared you to a servant, it got his blood boiling:

“Honey, I was wond-” You walked into the conference room, the entirety of the Neo Culture had their eyes focused on you. Some had the hands going to their hip, ready to fight for their leader’s life who sat closest to the door, yet most of them calmed once they recognized the big and gentle eyes of their leader’s partner.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I should’ve knocked.” You said, bowing towards the familiar faces you deemed family.

“Yeah…you should have.” A new prospect piped in from the bottom of the long table. “Gosh Lee, who knew you let the help step in for meetings. Put her in her place, would you?” He rolled his eyes, thinking that he would be praised as a manly man and a fearless advocate….when everyone just saw him as a dumba*s.

To say you felt like a stupid nuisance was an understatement. Your eyes now trained towards the ground while you kept your inner lip fixed between your teeth. The fiery red setting in your cheeks as you felt out of place. Taeyong noticed this and decided to give you attention from his nice and friendly side while in his mind he was going over what he would have Jaehyun or Jisung do to the prospect later on. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer with both arms so you were standing in between his legs. “No, my attention is yours. What did you need?” He asked taking your hand and running his hand over your knuckles. “I just wanted to go shopping and was seeing if I could take the car.” You said, still feeling stupid. “Of course. Mark? Want to go with her?” Taeyong asked and Mark shot out of his seat, ready to leave this boring and useless meeting. Taeyong threw the keys to the younger and he caught them on beat.

“Have fun, honey. Text me if you need anything.” He said kissing your knuckles as you nodded, a smile forming on your face. “Let’s go Noona!” Mark whined as he dragged you out of the room as both of you laughed at the fact you get to leave. The door closes and all the official members knows what’s coming though.

Taeyong let an enthusiastic sigh leave his lips as he leaned back in his chair. He finally faced forward again as he took his gun from his hip. He set it down on the wood table infront of him. He had a sinister smile as he sat up, looking at the new recruits like a madman.

“Let’s have a talk about respect, yeah?”

__________

MOON TAEIL

He sat next to you at the annual family and associates dinner that Taeyong threw. You sat at a LONG table that was faced into the ballroom where everyone else sat at circle tables. Only the closest and most elite members were aloud to sit where you sat with your husband.

You were adorned in the finest jewels he had gotten for you specifically along with a dress you deemed unfit to be worm by someone like you. You were a goddess in his eyes along with everyone’s eyes who had a brain. So when someone compared your formal dress to a garbage bag…ends up he had to hold you back:

His hand found yours under the table as you toyed with the fabric of the elegant dress that hugged your body in all the right places. You looked over to see him smile and give you a reassuring nod. Taeyong was going on the usual speech he gave every year about the meaning of respect within the strong family we have.

Yet, when Jaemin LITERALLY snaked his way under the table to where you and Taeil sat, to say you were shocked was an understatement. He was the last chair…on the opposite end of the table. You lifted the silk table cloth as he sat in between you and Taeil on the ground. “Hello, Noona.” He bowed nicely as he sat cross legged. He then turned towards Taeil. “Hyung.” He started, keeping his voice hush still. “The prospect at table 87 with the blue vest on keeps talking bad about Noona.” He said hurriedly and angrily. You comfortingly played with the hair on the back of his head so he would calm down.

“What?” Taeil asked again. “Prospect. Table 87. Blue Vest. Talking bad about Noona…revenge?” He said and automatically held up handcuffs and a match box. “…what was he saying?” Taeil asked and you stared down the man. “That it looked like she was wearing a trash bag,,.and some stuff I don’t feel comfortable saying infront of a female presence.” Jaemin said as the speech ended and everyone clapped for Taeyong. Jaemin still rambling. Taeil hit Jaemin upside the head. “Stop. He didn’t say it, the prospect did.” You grabbed your husbands wrist as Jaemin rubbed the side of his head softly. “Oh yeah, sorry.” Taeil said.

You cleared your throat, tapping your napkin on your mouth and setting it next to your plate. You pushed your seat back and stood up. “What are you doing?” Taeil asked as Jaemin just looked up at you. “Obviously if he’s speaking about me, he wants to talk.” I said bowing to some people who passed infront of me. “What? No.” Taeil said. “Sit your as* down, and you can see me from here. I’ll be fine.” You said moving your leg to your dress slit and exposing your holster on your thigh. He nodded and turned toward his food again. “Jaemin, will you please accompany me to the prospect?” I asked and he got up quickly, extending his hand. He guided you down the steps as he brought you to table 87. Most just gawked as you approached him, talked, and told him if he ever talked about you again in such vulgar ways you promised death. Taeil was quick to come in and swoop you up before the prospect lost his anger, and Taeil would get involved himself.

“Talk about me one more time, and your body will be thrown out in the garbage bag you compared this dress to.”

_________________

SEO JOHNNY

You were walking around the base, making sure you hit up all departments to get what Taeyong was asking. You were walking back from Doyoung’s warehouse when a new fledged member thought you were on of the many hookers around the base…yeah…you weren’t…:

“Cherry Bomb shell and hand-held revolver…check…Brass knuckles and nun chucks…check…matches and fire kit…check…cyanide and sinai…ch-” you mumbled to yourself, strolling through the courtyard of the base while checking off the list you had on a piece of paper. The weapons were stashed in your backpack and without worry. You weren’t paying attention as you didn’t hear the man running up behind you.

You didn’t even realize he was there until you were pressed up the side of the building with his lips on your neck. “Get off! As*hole! Get off.” You whined as you tried to throw the man off. A smack across your mouth had cut you off as you felt his hands grip your rear-end in a painful way. You cried into the ‘kiss’ as your hands were pinned into the rough concrete of the wall…painfully you might add.

“God you’re such a bad whore.” He said and kicked your leg to open your mouth more. His hands roamed your body as you desperately tried to get him off. “HELP.” Was all you could shout as he bit down on your neck to probably make you shut-up.

Finally, his body was thrown onto the ground, hardly. Your body crumpled down to the ground as you held your knees to your chest. You watched as Johnny took all his anger out on the new member. You were brought to your feet by Jeno who was talking to Johnny that was on a quest to find you.

Jeno took you away, trying to calm you down. You ended up on the training center with all the Junior forces who were talking about what they would’ve done if it was their own girlfriend…most of them would act the same way as Johnny.

“New member or not. Mine is mine. I would’ve hit him with a combo, monkey knuckle on the nose, nipple twister, stomp on a couple of his toes, do the eye poke thingy-” Chenle went on, his mission to make you smile after the incident and it worked as most of the others were laughing as well. He was cut off by Johnny walking in. “Y/N!” He yelled from down the hall. “I think I left my bean sprouts in my shoe. Lele, wanna help?” Jisung asked as he dragged his dolphin companion to the stairs. “She’s in here, hyung!” Renjun walked in himself with an ice pack and a cup of Jasmine Tea.

He pressed the coldness to your leg and neck, trying to get the hickeys to go away as quickly as possible. You thanked him as Johnny walked into the dining/kitchen area where you and the others sat. He was out of breath and his knuckled dripping (love, love, drippin’ drippin’ love…srry) blood onto the white tile floor. He was still angry…not at you though. “You okay?” He asked and you could only nod.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

___________

NAKAMOTO YUTA

You were at the local coffee shop, going for a well deserved coffee break. Yet…OUT OF ALL PLACES YOUR HUSBAND DECIDED TO HAVE A TRADE DEAL…it was at the shop you were at. He had no idea, and once he does realize in the worst way possible; it’s too late…but not for him:

“One large iced americano, please?” You asked the barista who nodded with a smile, gladly accepting your debit card with both hands. She scurried off and began making the drink while you scrolled through random apps on your phone and listened to whatever music was playing in the small cafe. It was pretty much a dead flow of customers but there were a handful of stragglers.

You felt hands on your waist and you quickly turn around ready to hit whoever it was across the face. Yet your fist was met by the man’s hand. “Hey pretty lady. I need you for a job.” He said and you just dropped your fist, getting out of his grip. “I’m going on a meeting and need you to be my arm candy.” He said.

You finally noticed the huge body tattoo he possessed and you sighed…Yakuza. “No. Hands off.” You pushed his chest and noticed how everyone around you had reached for their waist. You pouted. “Now. Let’s go.” He picked you up and dragged you outside and up the stairs to the building that sat atop of the shop.

The door opened and he sat at the seat closest to the door. The curtain that separated the 2 gangs was left untouched across the middle of the table, obscuring both boss’s vision from eachother.

You wanted to just cry and go back to see Yuta because you were some place you shouldn’t be and it scared you…especially because everyone was bigger than you. “We’re ready to begin.” A man on our side said and the curtain was dropped a few seconds later. You looked across to see Yuta seated at the opposite end of the table. Our own men surrounded him.

“Yuta.” You shot up but was met by a forceful grab and pull, causing you to end up on the floor. “Ow.” You whined and held your arm that the man let fall to the ground with a thud.

“Get up, whore.” He kicked your legs forcefully under the table where it was obscured from vision. You whined again softly, holding your leg. “Can you please return my wife before we have more than a territory issue on our hands?” Yuta spoke fire from the other side of the room. “We don’t have your wife, Yuta.” The man said and you stood up again. “Yes you do, dumba*s.” You said and his hand flew up to squish your jaw so you’d look at him.

You put both hands on his wrist to pry his force from your face. Yuta flew up and his men stood up after they sensed his anger. “Let. Her. Go.” Yuta said throwing his fists on the table.

The stupid man finally pieced two and two together and quickly released his hard grip. Yet seeing the red marks on your face threw Yuta over the edge. You wasted no time in running to Yuta after the grip was released. His one arm slipped around your shoulders to hold you close. “Fu*k you, fu*k you wanting more space. Get the hell off our land.” He spat and the men wasted no time in getting the hell out of there.

He held you close as he made sure to get it across your concious that he cared deeply about what happens to you. He pulls away and looks at your face where he grabbed you. He grazed his fingers over the marks and examined them.

“Find the leader and base of that branch. We leave at 1.”

_________

QIAN KUN

This was supposed to be your guys’ night. It was your guys’ time to get out of that stupid medical room where your boyfriend locked himself into night and night again. Yet when a mission goes South, he is told to bring you in for backup…you both getting there was a mission within itself:

“Where to next, sweetie?” Kun asked as you looked around the colorful sky that filled with the smell of popcorn and the sounds of ride motors and children laughing. ‘I don’t know, there’s so many! Ferris Wheel is last though.” You said turning towards him with a smile. “Anything thing for you.” He said and you guys walked hand in hand down the grassy walkway.

“Let’s go on the bumper cars.” You suggested and you walked hand in hand. You both gave up your tickets and got on. The ride started and all of you began driving and hitting eachother. It was a moment that would last in your mind forever.

You then raced eachother to the mega air. You stood in the long line, and you guys would be on the next group of riders. His phone sounded off with a ringtone you were familiar with. He silenced his phone, yet no matter what, this person’s calls always came through and the loudest volume. Kun picked up without hesitating. “Yes?” He asked and the ride started finally. You watched at what you would hopefully be getting onto next.

“Ok. I have y/n with me.” He said and a few more seconds, the phone was hung up. “Mission went wrong.” He said and your heart began racing. He ducked under the rope and then lifted you over, ultimately losing your place in line. He took your hand and started pushing people out of the way so he could get to his car with you safely. “Most guys are hurt. I need your help. Enemy’s are on their way to come get us so we don’t get there.” He said and as soon as he said that, both of you began running.

We were directly outside of the entrance when someone passed by and grabbed your other wrist. When you are moving extremely fast and then stop because of a pressure is on one of your joints…it hurts. You whimpered as the person twirled you so their arms are around your body.

Kun doesn’t waste time in pulling the gun on his hip. You’ve seen the gun on his hip, knowing he was forced to carry it. You’ve never seen him touch it though. You were clawing at his arm to get him off.

“Honey. When I say ‘go’ turn to your left and crouch.” He said in Mandarin. You got the jist and he gave you the signal. You used all of your strength to turn to the left and crouch. The man’s hand was wrapped in your hair as you went towards the ground, yet once the loud sound of the gun went off, so were you and Kun. Kun picked you up and ran all the way to his car.

He didn’t even throw you in your seat as he got in, he set you on his lap, and managed to get you out of there alive. You didn’t face forward as you looked over his shoulder to the fleet of cars behind him. “Those are associates, don’t worry.” He said as he laid a hand on your thigh.

“You okay, pumpkin?” He asked and you silently nodded. “Do you think he’s alive?” You murmured and he chuckled.

“If he isn’t it serves him right. He touched something that wasn’t his.”

(I HIGHKEY LOVE WRITING ABOUT BAD-ASS KUN!!!)

___________________

KIM DOYOUNG (trigger warning of sexual violence) (LONGER)

You left him at the member and associates dinner. You had grown fatigued and needed rest. You assured him that you would be okay and that you would call him if ANYTHING happened, even if you saw a squirrel. He HAD to stay at the dinner because of his position and you knew that and completely understood. Yet when he doesn’t find you at home the way you left, he returns back to the party to wreck havoc:

“Call me when you get home and text me if ANYTHING happens. Like, you see a squirrel or your favorite K-Drama has a surprise ending today.” He said kissing your forehead. You nodded and chuckled as the cold air nipped at your skin. “I got it. I love you.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his waist that was hidden under his formal blazer. “I love you too, get warm.” He said as you started walking away toward your car. He didn’t let you go without a cheeky slap on the behind though, which in turn was met with the finger. He held up a finger heart as you got in the car.

You laughed as you watched your husband see you out of the parking lot. It was a calm drive back, listening to TWICE and thinking about random things. Do you have any Instant Noodles at your house? Is your show on tonight? Where is Madagascar located?…can fish see water?…

You make it to your house with ease and you walked to your house with your elegant dress. You unlocked the door and made your way into the living room. You looked around and noticed the mess you were witnessing. Everything was either over-turned or slashed. You try to seem calm on the outside. You take the small gun off your thigh and turn around and was met with a bigger human literally right behind you. You screamed and weakly held the gun up but it was soon thrown at the wall where some of the metal popped off. Even if you grabbed it, it probably wouldn’t work now.

Their mask was on their face and the only thing you knew is that you have seem the blue vest before (I’M SORRY, I WAS RUNNING OUT OF RANDOM PEOPLE). You were grabbed by the man and he held you above the ground as you fought your way off of him with no victory in sight. He opened a random door and it turned out to be the closet where you kept you SUPER fancy dresses like the one you were in now.

He closed it and opened the door next to it, and it was the guest room. He dropped you on the bed, and you immediately rolled off the side, crawling to the loose floor board where there was a gun with your name on it. “Get back here.” He called, dragging you by your foot that was adorned with red bottom heels.

“Please no. Stop.” You whined as he threw you on the bed and straddled your waist. He took his belt off and bounded your wrists tightly together and to the metal headboard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doyoung waited patiently…waited. It was now 1 am, and the dinner was far from over. He then excused himself from the conversation he was caught up in with Taeyong, Taeil, and Yuta.

He wasn’t calling anymore. He was going to show up at your house, gnaw your ear off…and then cuddle while eating ice cream because he’s had enough of caviar for the night.

His car was easy to spot for him as he got in, and drove quickly to your place. Your car was there, and your light was on. He was pppiiiisssss*eeeeddddd now. He groaned and got out of his car, shoving his key into his back pocket. He didn’t even bother to knock as he walked into the front room.

His breathing didn’t falter as he registered something was terribly wrong. He grabbed his gun and called out your name with force…and there was no response. “Y/N. Answer. Now.” He stated clearing out the kitchen and living room. He kicked your closet, bathroom, and bedroom door open and there was nothing. He sighed as he kicked in the last door with impenetrable anger.

There you laid, hands and feet tied, body exposed, eyes covered, blood, cuts and bruises along with weird substances littered across your skin. What made him really mad was that you still had your feet adorned in heels. …they didn’t even take off your shoes before doing this?…

“Y/N?” He asked and you twitched a little. He went over and took off the cloth that held your eyes prisoners from the light. He threw it on the floor and held your jaw loosely, knowing that the gesture made you relax. Your eyes were tear filled with pain and shock. “I’m sorry.” You cracked from pain. The bruises around your neck made breathing hard. “It’s-it’s not your fault.” He said as he quickly and safely untied your various limbs. He picked you up bridal style but you tapped his chest. “What?” He asked coming closer. “Under the bed.” You choked out. He nodded, knowing even though he would be out of the room, the person couldn’t escape from the bolted closed window.

He set you in the bath and started the water. He walked back to the room and with one swift movement, lifted the bed and the cage it laid on. The man tried to scurry like a roach once caught, but Doyoung kicked the air out of the man. “Family? YOU DID THIS TO FAMILY?!” He kicked the down man again. “WE TOOK YOU IN.” Kick, “WE ALL DID.” He said landing a hard blow to his head. “Just wait till Taeyong finds out abou-” “DOYOUNG.” You yelled. Doyoung quickly grabbed the belt that held you and he tightened it around the man’s throat, the other end hung on the door knob. “Don’t even think about moving.” Doyoung called as he ran out of the room and to the bathroom. The water was now red and you scrubbed lightly on your body.

Tears rushing down your cheeks broke him. It broke him because it showed how you were broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doyoung walked into the ballroom at 4 am as everyone still talked and laughed. He kicked the big door open which got everyone’s attention. He dragged the man by the belt in one hand and a revolver in his other.

Everyone watched as the man crawled on hands and knees to the front of the ballroom, right infront of Taeyong. “What the hell is this?” Taeyong asked as he peered over the table at the alleged ‘member’. “I went to Y/N’s house because she left the party not feeling well. After 3 hours with no word from her, I went to check up on her.” He said looking at his boss.

Doyoung pulled on the belt as the man stood up. “And I found this bastard under her bed…where he raped her.” Doyoung spat while maintaining psychotic eye contact with the man. “Now…you might not remember but this as*hole was sworn in about…a week ago?” Doyoung questioned looking at the long table of true members. They had hatred and disgust in their eyes.

Doyoung kicked the man’s knee cap as he fell to the ground with pain. Taeyong never lost eye contact with the ‘member’. “Thank you for coming tonight. Please come next year. Dismissed.” Taeyong said and EVERYONE cleared the room except the long table.

“See, if it was my choice I would play pinata with his body as he hangs from the ceiling…but I don’t want to give him the gift of living any longer than he should.” Doyoung weighed out his options, waving his gun around in circles. “And because of him…she can’t even fuc*king exist without being in pain.” Doyoung said taking the man’s face in his hand. The man laughed as he spit random words.

“She’s too tig*t…I don’t know why you’re with her…I’ll take her again if you want.” He laughed and Doyoung laughed too, but with a different meaning. He stood up, cocking his gun and splattering the man’s skull all across the floor laughing at his slumped over expression, sarcastically.

Doyoung threw his revolver as hard as he could at the man, shaking his head. “…is she okay?…” Taeyong broke the heavy silence to ask what everyone was wondering. Doyoung chuckled as he walked down the aisle of circular tables where ladies in beautiful dresses danced as the men were proud to call one of them theirs. His footsteps echoing throughout the marble built room.

“She will be now.”

__________

TEN

You were at a local coffee shop unwinding with your husband when the barista had some comments and actions that weren’t accepted:

“We haven’t done this in so long.” You sighed as you sat back in the chair, eyes trailing out the window. “Agreed.” He smiled and set his phone, face down on the table; something both of you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

The drinks came on a cute platter as you both talked about random things that have never crossed both of your minds when you were alone.

You pick up your drink and take a sip from the straw. You happen to look down to the lid where the straw poked through. “The straw won’t be the only thing you’ll suck tonight. Call Me 10 xxx-xx-xxxx ;)” You read out loud to Ten who just stared at you.

“No way.” He said and took your drink from your hands to look on the lid himself; probably in disbelief. He slowly turned toward the barista who was red in the face, nonchalantly drying a couple mixing sticks. “Ten, it’s oka-” You tried to cut him off. “THE ONLY THING SHE’LL BE SUCKING TONIGHT IS YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR BODY. SHE’S A DEMON.” He said, getting the attention of EVERYONE in the small shop. Most of them laughed as Ten threw the lid back at the counter with such force.

The barista sadly threw it away. “Also, that’s not cool. You obviously see me sitting right here.” Ten said as the younger boy bowed and apologized. He was in a bitter mood all day.

”He wasn’t even that good-looking. Little boy needs to step his priorities up before I put them in check for him.”

___________

JUNG JAEHYUN

Both of you were on a late night stroll when someone tried to mugg both of you…tried:

“Dinner was so good.” You groaned, holding your stomach. “I’m glad you liked it, sweetie. Burgers was a good choice.” He said, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I gained like, 20 pounds.” He said groaning again. “I’m losing feeling in my legs. You have to carry me.” He played as he slowly put more of his weight on you.

“No. Jae.” You laughed as you both stumbled down the dark and deserted street together. You both loved times like this, where you were just acting like your real age and it was truly refreshing. Not a care in the world, going with the flow.

“So where to next? Movie at your pla-” Jaehyun asked as you both passed an alley. A person popped out infront of you and held a gun in your face. It was plastic but it was still startling. “All your money, now.” He said. You and Jae looked at eachother with an obnoxious sigh. Jae took out his wallet. “How much you need, my man?” He asked and the person relaxed and dropped the ‘weapon’ a little. “Are you serious?” The man asked and Jaehyun nodded. “Now.” He coughed and you kicked the man’s ‘weapon’ out of his hand. “Hey!” He started but he was quickly cut off by a nice, clean fist to the face. I guess it was a little too forceful as he dropped down to the ground…unresponsive.

“Poor soul.” Jae said as he tucked a 100 in the guys pocket.

“And good kick, honey.”

_______________

DONG SICHENG (WINWIN)

Your anxiety was high already, but once you met his men at an abrupt moment, it was through the roof. You never understood how such a sweet human was the boss in this scary world of drug deals, money extortion, and merciless murder:

You walked into the main conference room, where Winwin was asking for you. You stopped once you had one foot in the door though. At least 20 other men sat around the large table. You thought the meeting was in an hour…boy were you wrong. “Uh-” You started. “Hey sweetie, did you get the files from the triad gang in the area?” He asked and you slowly nodded.

Some of the men snickered at your scared expression, but your husband was quick to shut it down. “Excuse you. It’s not really a laughing matter.” He said and the person rolled his eyes. “Sure, boss.” He said. Winwin brought you closer. “Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded.

“Here, sit down.” He said and pulled you into his lap. You were uncomfortable at the little snickers from around the room. “Boss, aren’t you going a little too far?” The same man asks and Winwin gave him a death glare. “You run this branch, you decide what is and isn’t too much.” He said and his hands ran over your arms comfortingly.

The man just nodded and stared at his papers. “Because last time I remember, you were already on my bad side for running around with a random person last week when you were supposed to be on a mission.” Winwin spat at the already defeated man.

You turned toward him and placed a hand on his neck, your thumb running over the bottom part of his ear comfortingly. “Honey, it’s okay. I think he gets it.” You said and he nodded. “Okay.” He muttered. “Alright, next page. Income revenue.” He said as you turned the page for him. You had gotten bored and doodled some random characters around the paper while you sucked on a random lollipop he had placed next to your hand. You could hear his smile as you doodled a dog spitting a spitball at the word ‘Revenue’

“You know, let’s wrap the meeting up early. We can go over this tomorrow.”

_____________

KIM JUNGWOO (His is a little different)

Both of you were a giggly mess when you were together. When it was work time though, no one peeped a chuckled unless you both knew you were clear. When he was in the middle of an on-ground mission, he spots / puts you in an awkward position:

You sat alone at a music themed coffee shop. Old record played of old hits and you were calm and at peace. Jungwoo was at work so you had the night to yourself, sadly. You wanted to bring him here, but seeing that he was going to be booked up the rest of the month…it seemed like a convenient time for some reason.

You read a fascinating book on galaxies far away and their creation when the bell above the door rang. You looked over and saw Jungwoo. You looked back down at the book and continued reading…WAIT JUNGWOO…you snap your eyes up to see him trying to avoid your eyes. You know he knows that you are sitting right there.

He gets a medium coffee and scoped around as if he doesn’t already know where to sit. He picks the lady that sat 2 small tables infront of you. He gently walks up and confidently asks if the seat is taken. She was really blunt. “I’m not into men.” She said and he froze. You hid your chuckle as a cute and small cough. His ears turned pink at this rejection he had never gotten before. “Are you serious..or do you just not want to talk to me…?” He questioned cutely. She held up her book bag where a Pride flag was sewn on. “Oh..okay…I’m sorry.” He said and walked away. He sat in the seat directly behind you. He texted you discretely.

“We have 22 hours before it detonates and if I don’t find out where it is…I’m dead…WE’LL ALL BE DEAD.” He texted me. You bit your lip, already knowing what’s coming. “I’ll text you where to pick me up.” You said and he started fidgeting in his seat. “No. That’s not what I meant. No.” He said but you were already out of your seat. You fixed your hair cutely, already telling what this girl was into.innocent…dainty…cute…you shivered at the thought. You were always naturally cute with people, but knowing you had to be extra cute terrified you.

You stood up and he sighed, tossing his phone on the table. You picked up your book and coffee along with your bag. You slowly approached. You tapped her on the shoulder and once her eyes met yours, they lit up. “H-hi. It’s okay if you say no…but, I was wondering if I could maybe…sit with you?” You stuttered and she smiled, clearing her paperwork from the other side of the table.

You sat down slowly and she leaned forward. “You are the most cutest thing ever. What’s your name, kitten?” She asked and you shivered. only Jungwoo calls me that. “Maya.” no it’s not. “You are the cutest little thing ever…why are you shaking?” She asked and you thought for a minute. “You’re just really pretty…way to pretty for me.” You said, running a hand through your hair. “Awe.” She said touching your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got in the car slowly and almost silently. Your eyes popped out of your sockets as they had been ever since you left her apartment. You slowly buckled in and he drove off, a pissed off expression etched onto his face. “Sector 4, building 8, floor 2.” You hummed into the silence.

He texted it and then looked at you once you both reached a stoplight. “Have fun?” He asked and you shook your head slowly as you stared at your shoes. “I need a bleach bath and a bible.” You muttered. He laughed the contagious laugh he possessed.

“She was into so much stuff I didn’t even knew existed.” You shook your head and shuddered at the thought. “Awe. You okay?” He asked and you nodded. “What are those?” He asked as he quickly grabbed your arms. “Rope burns.” You answered nonchalantly.

He just dropped your arm and hit you upside the head softly. “Yah, what did I tell you about on-ground missions?!” He said and you turned to him. “I literally walked in and she tied me like a pig from the ceiling. I didn’t ask and she didn’t even ask…she just…tied.” You said in a whine. He put his hand on your thigh and gripped,

“Well even if you are aloud to go on any more missions, which I’ll make sure you don’t, remember you’re mine as soon as you leave…geez…what am I gonna do with you?”

______________

WONG YUKHEI (LUCAS)

You both were undercover at a music store. Him as the nerdy university student, and you as the carefree and rebellious intern. When you’re touched though, the persona drops:

The bell dings as someone walks in and you sit with your feet propped onto the counter. “Welcome to Prokaryote Music…or whatever.” You said as you twirled your gum around your finger. Lucas rushed towards the group of shoppers. Highschoolers and older. “Hi welcome to the store. First timers or returning shoppers?” He asked. “Should I run your card numbers?” He asked as he took out the random hand-held machine from his back pocket.

You stood up, walking. “No, nerd. Let the people shop.” You said and flicked Lucas’ fake glasses. Some of them laughed as Lucas walked away to leave them alone. He played this role really well. You went to a random section and just began organizing.

You were approached by one of the people and they seemed pretty chill. They shared knowledge on the music you ‘liked’. You hadn’t realized till it was too late that he was very close. You were leaned over a bin of old records when you felt his hand slip between your legs and started to cop a feel.

You gasped at the unwanted feeling and before you could turn around to slap the guy, he was being taken to the ground by an angry Lucas.

“It’s going to be hard to cop a feel when you can’t feel anything.”

______________ LEE MARK (STRONG THEMES)

He was confused on why you had been so on edge lately. Yet once he found out, he wasn’t afraid to stop it:

You walked down the hall, reading a random book when he stuck his arm infront of your face and onto the wall. “Hey, wanna go catch a movie?” He asked once he caught you in the hallway. “Ye-I can’t.” You suddenly retracted. He squinted his eyes.

He quickly put his other arm up so you were encased. “What’s going on with you lately? Usually you would say yes before I even finished the sentence.” He said and you shrugged, looking down. “I know that you know. Just tell me.” He said but you stayed silent. “Do you think I’ll get mad or something?” He asked and you shrugged…but then nodded.

“Then tell me and I promise I won’t get mad.” He said and you still stared at the ground. He took your face in his hand. “Well when you get enough courage to tell me, I’ll be here.” He said and you nodded obediently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m still a minor.” Mark heard from behind a door. That made him freeze quickly. “Just shut up will you and take your shirt off, y/n.” He heard a voice say and his jaw and fist clenched.

“N-no. I don’t want to be bossed around by you anymore.” He heard your voice shake. “Do it or I’ll tell Mark about how big of a whore you are - stripping for other members.” He said and he was about to open the door. “No, please. I’ll do it, but please leave him out of it. He has too much to deal with.” You said and that’s when the door flew off it’s hinges.

He was just mad that he couldn’t protect you from this ‘member’.

“She’s a minor, dumba*s. Just wait till Tae hears about this.” Mark goes crazy, hitting and swinging on the man till he let’s it all out.

“The only reason I’m not ending your sorry ass right here, is because y/n is around.”

_____________

LEE DONGHYUCK (HAECHAN)

Both of you were equally feisty, yet you weren’t afraid of most things that you should be:

“Come at me, bi*ch!” You screamed at the girl you were in a fist fight with. School had just let out and she had been running her mouth. “You wanna talk? Well put your fists where your mouth is.” You told her, throwing your bag and sweatshirt down.

She rolled, her eyes, setting her bag down and her own coat. She grips brass knuckles in her hand but you weren’t going to back down. “Okay…you have brass knuckles…I have common sense.” You rolled your eyes and got into your beginning stance.

She started and took a couple swings, one of them landing a cut across your cheek. Others were telling you to calm down before the principal came, but you both were fired up and willing to lose it all.

You hit her a good time in her lip where it gushed open and started spurting. Arms wrapped around your body before you got another swing. “Dumba*s I told you no more fighting.” He groaned as he started carrying you away, one of the other boys getting your bag. “Hyuckie. Put me down, she wants to still fight.” You motion to her who’s still holding her weapon. Everyone knew you were dating a bad guy, so when him and his friends showed up to break up the fight, they began to shut up. “I don’t know what I’m looking at honey. You need to get better at fighting. My baby whooped your ass with her damn knuckles without you poor excuse of a weapon.” He said looking over his fake glasses. “You need to get better at stuff like this.” He finished and she questioningly raised her fists which raised giggled from you.

“Honey, put those damn things down. 1) you’re fighting a girl with no weapon so technically if you guys were to get in trouble, she could come at you for assault; not that she would. 2) you try to swing one more time I will personally lay your ass out; girl or not. You’re trying to hurt my baby with me present. Good luck with that Satan.”

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