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kiss-inthekitchen · 4 years

Text

of the jealous kind

summary: you and Harry are out at the local farmer’s market when a girl starts flirting with you and Harry gets jealous. only thing is, you don’t exactly realize she’s flirting with you. classic wlw vibes, am i right ladies? (please say yes)

my submission for @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines bi-ficathon!

a/n: fun times with Harry calling you “his girl” and being just a bit pathetically jealous (his words!) also i might continue this...in a smut type of fashion... if y’all are interested

word count: 2.2k

“Oh, let’s stop over there! I want to get one of those chocolate chip custard things,” you exclaimed, spotting your favorite bakery stand at the farmer’s market and dragging Harry along by your joined hands.

“A’right, love, m’comin,” he laughed, trying to keep in step with your suddenly quickened pace.

It was a Sunday morning, cloudy but not too cold, and you and Harry were visiting your favorite farmer’s market in town. You tried to come here at least twice a month if your schedules allowed it. Today, it just so happened, you both had the entire day free to spend with each other.

Harry knew you had to look at everything the bakery had to offer before you inevitably bought the same items as usual (a good, crusty country loaf and the same danish you never remembered the name of). There was a produce stand across the way that immediately caught Harry’s eye, a “buy 2 get 1 free” sign atop a display of various berries calling out to him. You noticed his distraction, the two of you speaking at the same time.

“M’gonna-”

“Go on, then.”

“Know me so well, don’t you?” He gave you a soft smile and pressed a kiss to your temple before heading off in pursuit of his beloved fruit.

You took the last few steps over to the booth’s main table, which held a majority of the baked goods as well as this week’s free sample: a garlic rosemary bread, cut into bite size pieces. You picked one up, on instinct taking a sidelong glance at the basket of your favorite pastries by the register, when the woman behind the counter finished ringing up a customer and turned to you.

“Can I help you with anything, hon?”

“Oh, um, I’m just looking,” you answered, looking up at her. She must’ve been new, you thought, not recognizing her from your previous visits. She had dark hair, twisted up into a bun at the back of her head, an oversized t-shirt with a phoenix decal on it. Her name tag informed you that her name was Allie.

“Alright, well, I will say that’s the best flavor we’ve got,” she gestures to the small wedge still held between your fingers.

“Really? That’s quite a bold statement,” you smile back at her, appreciating her friendliness.

“You’re gonna want to trust me on this one,” she said, nodding at you to go ahead.

You took a bite, blushing a bit at the knowledge you were being watched and that she was awaiting your response. “Mhm,” you agreed, around a mouthful of bread. “Okay, you’re right, that’s better.”

“Thought so. I have been told I’ve got very good taste.”

“Well, I’m not surprised.”

She made eye contact with you, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “So, will you be taking a loaf of the garlic rosemary then?” she asked.

“Yes, please.” Why not try something new, you thought. And she was right, it was delicious. You’re sure Harry would like it too, and you could just imagine the playful ribbing he was going to give you when he noticed you’d deviated from your usual order. “Oh, could I also get that-”

“The chocolate chip danish? I saw you eyeing it earlier,” she said, picking one up with a gloved hand and placing it in a small paper bag. “That one’s on the house.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you.” Allie was really on top of it with the customer service.

“Anytime,” she said, “Anything else I can get you?”

“No, that’s all for me! Thanks again.”

She rang up your order, handing you the bag before speaking. “You know, we also come out to the beachside farmer’s market on Wednesday’s, if you’re ever in the area. I’ll write it down for you,” she said, picking up a business card from a stack on the table and turning it over to write on the back.

“Sounds great,” you replied, mostly to be polite. You probably wouldn’t make it out, Wednesdays being a busy day for you with classes.

Just as she was handing it back to you, Harry appeared behind you, fruit in tow.

“Thank you so much, have a good one!” you said cheerily, dropping the card into the bag with your goods. You’d look at it when you got home.

She waved back. “See you soon, hopefully.”

You smiled as you turned around to see Harry already standing there, startling a bit at his unexpected presence. He raised his eyebrows a bit, but didn’t say anything as he put his free arm around your shoulders. The two of you headed back to the main walkway, and he waited until your new friend was out of earshot before he spoke.

“So, yeh just gonna let someone flirt with my girl like that?”

“What?” That was not what you were expecting. “She wasn’t flirting with me, Harry.”

“Oh, please, love. Saw the way she was lookin’ at you. Poor girl. I’m sure you led her on.”

“Excuse me, I did no such thing,” you scoffed. “And she wasn’t even flirting with me, so I couldn’t have.”

He breezed right past your denial, having already made up his mind. You weren’t going to be able to convince him otherwise, you knew that by now. “Told ya before love, you come off very flirtatious. Almost feel bad for her.” He was smirking down at you, the bastard. “Almost.”

“Being a pest,” you grumbled, shoving against his shoulder with yours to throw him off balance.

He stumbled a bit, but recovered quickly. “Oi! ‘S not very nice, is it?”

You giggled in response, loving when he used that playful tone. He tried to keep a serious face on while looking back at you but failed almost immediately, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes that you forgot what you’d both been talking about.

“Anyway,” you sang, reaching out for his free hand and threading your fingers through his. “What did you buy?”

His face lights up at the memory of his purchase. “Got strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries, plus some local clover honey.”

“Such a sweet tooth, hm?”

“S’pose I do,” he said with a slight smirk. “Ready to go home and eat, then?”

“We’ve barely been here half an hour, H. Trying to get me home already?”

“Look too good today, love. Worried if we stick around I’ll have to beat the other vendors off with a stick.”

“I thought we were done with this conversation,” you rolled your eyes at him playfully, but allowed him to steer you back toward the car park. You were getting kind of hungry anyway.

You’re sat on your kitchen island at home, Harry placing the bags on the counter next to you.

“Have a nice time, love?” He asks, moving over to you and situating his body between your knees at the edge of the counter.

You drape your arms around his neck, thumb coming up to his cheek to rub back and forth as he leans into your touch. “Always have a good time when I’m with you,” you breathe.

“That’s m’girl,” he speaks in a husky tone, before leaning in to press his lips to yours, slow and lazy at first. That is, until he lifts his hands to your thighs, sliding them around to your back and suddenly tugging you closer to the edge of the island, body flush with his. You gasp into his mouth at the action, and you can feel rather than see his resounding smirk.

“Harry,” you pull back, attempting to admonish him but no one would know from the way your voice shakes.

“Sorry, love. Know what they say, kitchen’s the most romantic room in the house.”

“I don’t know anyone who says that.”

“Y’do now,” he grins lopsidedly at you, and it’s all you can do to remember that the two of you still need to eat.

You grin back at him. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

“But you love me,” he responds, and you can’t argue with that. “A’right, I’ll take everything out and we can have a picnic in the backyard, how’s that sound?”

Your smile nearly knocks him off his feet. “I’ll go get the picnic blanket!”

He removes himself from between your legs and you slide off the counter and head towards the linen closet in the hallway. When you return, Harry’s taken out the loaf of bread and the danish, and is holding the business card in between two fingers.

“What’s this, then?” He asks, holding up the bakery’s business card, logo facing you.

“It’s just their card, the cashier told me they come out to another farmer’s market during the week and she was gonna write it down for me.”

“Oh, she wrote it down, love.” In a second, he elegantly flips the card over in his fingers to show you the back. “But that’s not all she wrote.” Underneath the name of the other market is her name and, unmistakably, a phone number.

“No!” you gasp, not believing he was right and you’d fucking missed it.

“And you bought a new flavor bread?”

“Well, I- Allie said it was the best one…” you trail off, trying to remember the details of your earlier interaction. Maybe Harry was right, you guess you did seem a bit flirtatious.

“Oh, Allie said, did she? That’s all it takes?” He’s kind of joking, kind of not, when it finally sinks in for you that you’ve, yet again, completely failed to notice when another woman was trying to flirt with you.

“Oh, god damn it!” you exclaim, completely in your own head and you didn’t even hear what Harry had said to you. “I do this every time!”

What’s left of Harry’s joking demeanor drops. “Every time? How often does this happen?!”

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice again.”

Your friends were gonna have a field day with this one. Three out of the four of you identified as bi or pan, though when you’d all become friends back in high school only one of you had actually been out. Now, you all joked that you had one “token straight” in the friend group.

“Y/N?!”

“I know, H, can you give me just a moment, I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m apparently a raging stereotype,” you reply, laughing at yourself a bit for being so predictable.

“Oh, of course, don't mind me. I’ll just be here. Waiting. Very patiently.” It’s a wonder he doesn’t start tapping his foot, clearly the farthest thing from patient right now.

You snap back to attention, realizing that if you don’t stop Harry he’s just going to keep spiraling. “You do know I’m dating you, right?”

“Do I?”

“Oh, come on. You’re being such a baby about this!”

“Oi! I am not!” He huffs, and you can just picture him as an indignant toddler, standing with his arms folded and a deep frown set on his face.

You hold back a laugh at the image you’ve conjured, closing the distance between the two of you. “Baby, I love you,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.“You know I do.” His jaw. “Why don’t we just throw that out, hm?” You kiss his lips this time, reaching for the card and plucking it from his fingers before tossing it away from you.

“I guess,” he grumbles as you pull away, but you can tell he’s not quite over it.

You rest your chin against his chest, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. “You don’t believe me, gorgeous? Need me to prove it to you?”

“Maybe,” he mumbles, and you know that you’ve brought him back from his little jealousy spiral at the mere suggestion, so you decide to make him wait for it. Just a little while.

“More than happy to,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips over the back of his hand. “Only thing is, you’re gonna have to have this picnic with me first,” you reach behind him for the blanket, “and you have to stop pouting.” You step around him, laughing as you run toward the glass door that leads to the yard.

“M’not pouting,” he lies to the empty kitchen as he grabs the rest of the food and some utensils before following you outside.

His mood is definitely lifted, though, when he comes outside to find you seated on the blanket already, grinning widely at him and holding your arms out for him to crawl into.

Maybe he had been just a tad bit dramatic.

About half the bread is gone now, a bowl of honeyed berries and a plate full of crumbs resting on the cloth-covered grass next to you. Harry’s shifted so he’s laying down with his head resting on your soft thighs, with you carding your fingers through his short curls, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Wait a minute,” you break the comfortable silence, a thought suddenly popping into your mind. “Other people flirt with you all the time! Sometimes right in front of me!”

“And?” he muses, reluctantly sitting up in order to face you.

“And! I never get jealous like that!”

“I know. Rather insulting, if you ask me. You can get possessive, love. I certainly won’t mind it.”

#hsbificathon #i finally got it done and i am very happy to be Participating #thank u #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #to be so lonely #my fics

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nibeul · 3 years

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Ok, I know this will take a great deal of your time, but I was startled to see that socialism wont be able to benefit POC like us. I dont want a capitalist society, and socialism sounded appealing, but it seems like that isnt the case. I would always like to learn and understand more. If it's ok with you, are there any sources or posts that discusses this?

alright, it’s early morning hours and I’m tired but I’m up working anyways so I might as well answer this. I don’t have any linked sources atm because it’s actually not a topic that’s talked about a lot, though I’ll be grabbing some basic definitions from the dictionary and such. for the most part, I’ll be running with my own thoughts.

socialism and communism are political and economic theories. communism is the ultimate goal for a lot of people while socialism is the stepping stone to get there (aka socialism is the halfway to communism, in a broad sense). Below are your definitions for easy access:

now I’m going to assume that we’re talking about the US specifically. As of now, we know that the US is a capitalist society, I.e., market is controlled by private owners for profit instead of by the state. Surprisingly, China is also technically a capitalist society that is controlled by the communist part just in the way that it functions market wise (this is a broad generalization however, it’s a bit more complicated than that), so the argument that communism is bad because of countries like China, or that socialism is bad because of unions like the USSR (which.. also isn’t really socialist? it’s run by a communist party similar to China but it’s honestly authoritarian under the veil of “socialism”) isn’t really founded in fact.

(I apologize if you already know this information, I’m trying to make this as informative as possible so please bear with me) Imperial powers have actually intentionally meddled with growing socialist countries—I believe Brazil and Cuba are two examples of this, though again, it’s harder to find discussions on this because the US does a lot more censoring of its history than we’re led to believe/it just isn’t talked about as much thanks to propaganda/intentional framing—which has resulted in destabilization and makes the argument that socialism is inherently bad easier to make. That being said, communism and socialism aren’t the miracle “fix it” for all the issues the US has right now.

Now, I’m not going to claim that I have the end all know all on political/economic theories. I haven’t done extensive reading on these topics/systems and I’ve made some broad generalizations in order to get my point across in an err.. digestible manner? I don’t mean that in a condescending way, more so that if I tried to get into the nuance of everything I would confuse myself and probably everyone else reading because there’s a lot. With that cleared, socialism and communism are going to sound a lot more appealing than what we have going now (which is valid). That being said, capitalism is heavily engrained in US American society, and it’s going to take years to move toward that, assuming that it even gets to a point of acknowledgement with the higher ups.

The thing is, that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. Why’s that? Because the US political spectrum actually leans heavily right. The biggest lie of the two party system (which I do not like at all, and I think a lot of US Americans actually share that sentiment) is that it shows the full scope of political ideology when in fact we have one of the smallest political scopes in the world. Most countries have multiple parties (Ireland is a pretty good example, it has its own problems but it’s definitely more politically diverse) but the US is unique in the fact that we only have two, which forces you to mold yourself to its constraints (which is a whole other issue). I don’t want to get too far into that, but you might be familiar with this image:

which I won’t flat out say is a clear cut, accurate representation of the current spectrum, but it does give you the general idea (it should come up if you search on Google). We are nowhere near being able to convert to a socialist or communist system, much less function properly with one because of our current political spectrum. That is the first issue to kinda clear because a lot of people assume it is just a shift that will happen? Which is definitely not how it will work, sorry that it took me a bit to get here but I wanted to clear some background information before making conclusions.

Now to get at the core of your question, why doesn’t socialism and communism benefit us (in a broad sense)? The simple answer is racism functions separately from capitalism and can survive on its own, hence why converting to socialism or communism doesn’t actually address the problem. Here’s another issue: white leftists are just as racist as white conservatives, they’re literally just more deceitful with their racism. When a good chunk of the people backing the movement are ignorant of their own biases, you encounter yet another problem. Communism and socialism do not fix racism, as much as people want to believe it does, changing the political and economic system a country functions with does not address the core root of an already inherently racist system. My end goal is the dismantling of the current system of white supremacy, and communism/socialism are not going to suddenly get us there.

#nibeul says fuck #free to RB #I’m tired lmao sorry if this is a mess #politics #communism #socialism

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Madeira. ( Taehyung x OC) Part 1/2

Genre : Angst, Sexually Explicit Content.

Kim Taehyung x OC

Cop Au!

Married Taehyung x Oc! ( Estranged )

Cop Taehyung! Bartender Oc !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : This is my spin on the brother’s best friend trope. I wrote this for @ladyartemesia Who made the amazing banner for the fic..

Because of one of her posts :D :D But I hope all of you enjoy it.

Also listen , i was supposed to write a simple brother’s best friend fic , maybe playful fluff and mild angst and some smut but this thing snowballed into a plot monster and now here we are.

This is part 1.

Part 2 soon :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So... that husband of yours is still missing, huh?" The man leaning against the bar smelled like sewage.

There really was no other word for it.

He smelled like he’d been drenched in the water that usually ran down the streets, whenever the heavens opened and poured a fucking deluge on us. Like he’d taken a soak in the disgusting broth of decaying produce, discarded animal entrails and everyday garbage. You know, the kind of stuff you find in the market street of a small town.

I ignored him, exhaling sharply and dragging the rag across the counter again, this time with a little more force behind it to make up for the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck.

Not the man leaning on the bar that is.

The man who had abandoned me.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

My breath shuddered out of me , a headache blooming inside my skull at the very thought of him. it was kind of unwarranted, I guess because it really wasn’t perfect Kim Taehyung’s fault that his wife of five years and seven months hadn’t seen him in ...well, five years and six months.

Fuck.

But see he wasn’t missing from my life by design.

He certainly hadn’t intended to leave me alone because , well for one, he loved me. and two, his best friend aka my big brother Park Jimin would skin him alive if he tried something like that.

They were best friends, bosom buddies since kinder garten and the only time they’d ever fought was when Jimin had walked in on me choking on Kim Taehyung’s dick in our coat closet at the age of seventeen ( 19 in Taehyung’s case) .

Taehyung had sported a black eye for two whole weeks.

So you see, Taehyung wouldn’t just leave me without reason, not unless he wanted to be castrated by my brother.

No.

The reason Kim Taehyung wasn’t around was because he had taken up an assignment, an undercover assignment a month after our wedding.

An assignment that was supposed to last two months. Except it hadn’t and now, it had been a whole five and a half years since I’d seen the man I loved.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

See, Taehyung was a detective.

A brilliant, A- class detective in Seoul PD’s Narcotics Division and he had a reputation.

A reputation as one of the most ruthless, merciless men on the force.

Taehyung had a mind that worked like no other, somehow able to predict exactly how drug dealers moved, how the shipments were going to be smuggled. He could tell where the deal was going to go down, what kind of security measures they would be up against and the most intriguing of all : just what drug a person had taken, simply from staring into their damn eyes .

It wasn’t uncommon for his cop buddies to comment how lucky the country was, that Kim Taehyung had chosen to be on this side of the law .

So Kim Taehyung’s reputation as a brilliant detective was well earned and that was why, when people heard his reputation and then met him, they were always stunned.

Because, for someone with such a terrifying aura , Taehyung looked deceptively.....well ethereal was the word. Beautiful was another. So fucking gorgeous he could make angels cry.

But Taehyung didn’t just look like a fucking angel. He acted like one. He acted like he had been sent on earth, simply to fight every bad guy in the city and while I had been proud and amazed and suitably enthralled with his prowess in the beginning, the fact that he had chosen to just leave me , really fucking hurt.

It hurt that the boy i had grown up with , the boy who had been my first everything hadn’t thought twice about leaving me behind. About leaving everything we had spent a whole decade building , behind just because he couldn’t control the urge to save the fucking world.

Every damn time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The water in my parents’ home was often murky and I had to let it run for a few minutes, before sticking the bucket underneath the tap. I watched the water turn clearer, cupping my palms underneath the flow watching it run clear. I nudged the bucket with my foot , under the tap and the sound of the water hitting the cheap plastic filled the cramped bathroom, loud and jarring.

I leaned against the chipped blue tiles, fingers shaking as I clenched them into fists. I had moved year about nine months after Taehyung had left, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and it became hard, paying the rent for our modest apartment in Itaewon.

Jimin had offered to help, offered to let me move in with him and his wife Irene, but he had been newly married as well, with a baby on the way. And i just couldn’t do that to him. I’d called my parents, explained that Taehyung and I were taking a break and could I move in for a while?

My parents had been stunned.

A break after ten months of marriage? what had happened?

I’d kept my mouth shut because everything was a security risk. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t cry or complain or seek comfort in my mother’s gentle words. Instead i’d spent the days, locked up in my childhood bedroom, pouring over my journals, my keepsakes and photos, reliving the years I’d spent, loving and learning and cherishing Taehyung.

First kiss in his garage at the age of fifteen , laughing over a failed skateboard trick. How he’d grinned at me, watching me whine over the scrape on my knee, how he’d stared up at me through the sweat damp bangs on his forehead as he’d knelt on the floor, sticking a bandaid over the scrape and then instead of moving away as usual, he mad moved in, brushed his lips against mine, stole the breath out of my lung , the soul out of my body .

And Those first two years of denial....when he would practically run out of the door if i so much as breathed in his direction.

“You’re Jimin’s sister.. I can’t...”

God often he’d said that...over and over again until the words lost all meaning for me. I had wanted him so blindly. Had fought any girl who so much as looked at him and every one of my girlfriends knew to stay clear off Kim Taehyung.

The whispers, anytime someone showed an interest on the most handsome boy in school.

Yes, he is gorgeous, yes he is smart and amazing but he belongs to her. She’ll kill you if you come near him.

I’d enjoyed it. I enjoyed knowing that everyone could see that he belonged with me, even if Taehyung himself didn’t .

And me at seventeen, watching him talk about leaving .... How he was going to join the police academy and become a cop and that had been the final straw. I’d all but barrelled into his home and kissed him.

Told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going anywhere without telling me he loved me. And if he didn’t , I wanted him to swear he would never regret it. That when , years from now, he saw me walking down the aisle with some other guy, he would stand in the wedding party, next to my actual brother and not regret that he let me go.

Taehyung had kissed me back with fervor that still made my lips tingle.

And that last week before he left, when we had spent all our waking hours, either having sex or thinking about having sex. How we’d christened every surface of our parents’ house , our rooms and finally the coat closet after one particularly tense game of truth and dare.

That was a memorable one because my brother had walked in, just as Taehyung had gripped my hair hard enough to bruise and shoved his ‘ big by any standards’ dick straight down my throat.

Talk about embarrassing.

And it had taken a whole lot of begging and cajoling and promises to not have sex till we were married, for my brother to come around.

But he had.

And for five glorious years, I had been Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend. Watched him climb the ranks at seoul PD with a speed that was amazing. Watching him become the youngest detective on the force... watched him carve a reputation for himself in the Narcotic department.

And one evening, having dinner in a posh restaurant with our family and friends, I had watched him get down on his knees , a small velvet box in his hand eyes practically sparkling with love as he stared at me.

“The only one you’re walking down the aisle with is me, sweetheart.” He had rasped, over the raucous cheering of all the most important people in our lives.

But the joy had been short lived.

Just a month after our wedding Taehyung had taken up the assignment. Just two months, he had promised. I’ll be back in two months baby. I love you so damn much, you know that....

I had said it was okay. it wasn’t but i had said. Had promised to wait for him. To keep myself safe.

Two months had turned to two years. Two years had turned to three. Three to four and four to five.

Lonely. I was so lonely.

Even living with my parents, the solitude had been unbearable. The ache from not being touched by him . The ache from not being able to touch him. From not having that boxy smile to greet me in the morning. Not running my fingers through his hair as he left hickeys all over me. Not having him over me, staring down at me, eyes heavy and hard as he fucked into me.

I missed him so fiercely it was a physical ache. An intense , hollow ache filled with anxiety and longing.

And terror.

Oh god I was so terrified.

The fear was all encompassing somedays and I had to bite down on my pillows just to stop myself from giving in to hysteria. To start sobbing, uncontrollably because the thought would come out of nowhere, bowling me over in it’s intensity.

The burning fear that perhaps he was hurt.

That perhaps he was no longer of this world and i would never even know. That perhaps right this moment he was lying in some abandoned warehouse, bleeding out , thinking of me, wishing he could see me and he was just going to die alone . And I would never know.

I spoke to Jimin on the phone to Jimin every weekend. But sometimes, once every three or four weeks, Jimin called in the day.

We would exchange small talk.

And then he would say,

“Had a glass of madeira last night.” “ spoke to Taehyung’s handler last night.

I would grip the phone hard, brace myself for the good , the bad or the ugly that was to come.

“Tasted great. Was thinking of you.” He’s fine. He misses you. He loves you.

“Okay. Thank you Jimin.”

And that was that.

The sound of the water spilling over drew me to the present and i blinked, staring down at the water flooding the bathroom, the drainhole struggling to get rid of the excess water.

The house was deserted.

My parents had died a year ago. And now it was just me.

I swallowed , shaking my head before grabbing the hem of my dress and stripping.

Shower.

And then bed.

Alone.

Always so fucking alone.

The phone rang then and i groaned.

God, I hated having to leave the shower to attend calls but the reception here was terrible and I could only get calls if I left the phone on the small table by the bed.

Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my torso, I stumbled out into the dimply lit bedroom, reaching for my phone.

I couldn’t recognize the number and I frowned, before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Yerin?”

Every hair on my body stood on end and my body curned hot and then went icy cold really really fast.

“T-T-Tae??” I whispered, gripping the phone so hard my fingers went number.

Five years later and his voice was so different. Deep and raspy and exhausted and I couldn’t make sense of it. Was this real? Was i having a fever dream? Had i fell in the shower and hit my head?

“Hey baby.” He chuckled.

“Is this real? Is it you?” I whispered, confused and my head spinning and my vision fading a little.

“Yeah. “ He coughed a bit and i panicked. “ I’m back. “

I froze.

“Wh-What?”

“I’m back. I’m home. I’m .... I’m back.”

I stared at the wall, too stunned to process what I was hearing.

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn’t respond.

Staring at the screen , I hung up.

And then, I finally gave in to the hysterics.

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#taehyung fics #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfics #bts smut #ts fanfic #bts fics

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile.

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please."

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile.

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone."

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think?

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous.

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing.

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else.

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow.

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you.

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please."

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood.

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby.

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler.

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face.

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks."

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect.

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her.

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore.

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match.

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring.

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence.

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd.

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now."

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture.

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up.

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away.

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium.

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things.

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult.

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong.

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened.

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction.

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her.

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together.

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk.

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that.

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it."

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this.

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare.

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork.

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away.

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by.

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers.

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how.

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking.

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over.

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with."

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan.

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin."

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower.

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall.

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose.

"Very much so, yes."

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then."

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm.

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets.

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused.

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year.

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile.

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row.

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible.

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time.

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance --

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off.

And, of course, you can't forget the actors.

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes.

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back.

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are.

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees.

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened.

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look.

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat.

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her."

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago.

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow.

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times.

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion.

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again.

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all.

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together.

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know.

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing.

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff."

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course."

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare."

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief.

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss.

"What about Jeong?"

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night."

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to.

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers.

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?"

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer."

"I can totally see that."

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips.

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much."

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing."

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that.

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself.

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more.

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time.

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit.

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours.

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it.

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again.

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager.

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle.

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you."

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds.

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on.

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that."

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me."

"Aww, don't be like that, baby."

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens.

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again.

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement.

"Good, because there's more where that came from."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."

195 notes · View notes

bangtae-sohotddaeng · 3 years

Text

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though.

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump.

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle.

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.”

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.”

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions.

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again—

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean.

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya.

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better.

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe.

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good.

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you.

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.”

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion.

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be.

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music.

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look.

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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series masterlist

Tags: @tangledsparkles @hoefortaeshands @getmemyfries

#vantaenet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #thebtstown #taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #v angst #v fluff #v imagine #jungkook imagine #bts v #bts jungkook #*mine #f: wbcs

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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Until the End of the World - 9

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1795

Rating: E

Warnings: pregnancy, Anxiety

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 9

There was something very comforting about how quickly things just fell back into a routine. Yes, there was still a great deal of excitement about the baby. Yes, there was morning sickness and check-ups to deal with. Yes, you were under pressure to finish your thesis before things got so chaotic that you wouldn’t be able to. Yes, you were doing all this while living in one of the guest apartments while most of your stuff was under plastic sheeting.

Even with all that, things felt calm and normal. You had work and classes. Geo had school and soccer and music lessons. There were kids’ birthday parties and dinners with the Avengers as a group and just one or two at a time. You had trips to the grocery store and the farmers’ markets, and meals to prepare. You were living your very own version of a normal life - and as strange as it was, it did feel normal. You were a family expecting a baby just like millions and millions of other people in the world right now.

That was why it caught you off guard when you realized you were being followed. You were in your sixteenth week of pregnancy and clearly showing. Your baby bump wasn’t enormous - you could move around freely and had quite a bit of energy, but it was definitely a pregnant belly. Random old ladies would want to touch it and Bucky and Steve had taken to caressing it absentmindedly in bed or pressing their hands on it while you sat together in the hopes they might feel the baby kick even though it was still far too soon for that.

You were walking Geo to school when you became aware that something wasn’t quite right and your first instinct was to run. You didn’t think you were ever going to get over that severe flight response you’d picked up when you were being hunted. It was like your trauma had engrained it into your very DNA and whenever something felt off you would prick up like a rabbit checking for a predator, ready to flee at the smallest perceived threat.

You tried not to worry Geo as you drew him a little closer to you and you glanced around. Almost immediately you relaxed again. A man was taking your photo from the end of the street. He was carrying a messenger bag and had a large, high power camera. The fact he was only barely concealing his existence meant it was paparazzi.

You wouldn’t exactly say you were used to the paps. They did bother you in groups from time to time. Particularly if you went out with Steve or both Steve and Bucky. They would gather around outside the Avengers tower entrance anytime something big happened hoping to get a photo of an Avenger and maybe a word for them to sell along with their photos. There had been a few times when they’d gathered outside a restaurant you were eating at with Steve. And on a couple of occasions, they had stalked you and Bucky at the farmers’ markets. Generally, they were oddly not great at recognizing either Bucky or Steve when they weren’t in uniform. It was like the stars and stripes distracted everyone’s attention from the face or something. They also never bothered you when you were by yourself. It was news you were dating Steve Rogers. It was big news that you might potentially be dating both Steve Rogers and James Barnes. You were used to getting little google pings where gossip columnists would speculate about who you were and what your relationship was to Bucky and Steve.

By yourself, there was no news to sell. By yourself, you were just some nobody with their kid going about their boring everyday life. The news crews and paparazzi that flocked around the doors of the tower would let you pass unharassed. So seeing one following you from the tower when it was just you and Geo was a bit of a shock.

Still, they were not a threat to your physical safety. Just your privacy. You figured that this one had noticed the baby bump and wanted to get some clear photos of it so they could sell it and someone like Perez Hilton or J. Jonah Jameson could speculate about whose baby it was and rant about the way of the world that ‘The’ Captain America might possibly knock up some woman out of wedlock.

You got Geo to the gates of his school and went in and signed him in electronically. The school he attended was selected because of their security. No child went home with anyone that had not been verified as a designated pick-up. Geo also quite liked the security system and liked to talk to it, so that was an added bonus.

The paparazzi followed you closer on your way home and called out to you asking about the baby. You did your best to ignore them though you couldn’t pretend it didn’t make you feel uneasy. Part of it was just that having been on the run from some secret organization that wanted to experiment on you and your son had made you value privacy about all others. Anyone putting your picture out into the world was enough reason to run. Adding a complete stranger following you to that, your stress levels were through the roof, and by the time you got back to the tower, your heart was hammering thanks to the adrenaline surging through you.

You got into the elevator and sunk back against the wall. “FRIDAY, can you take me to Steve? Make sure you warn him that I’m coming.”

“Of course, miss,” she replied. “He’s currently talking to Mister Wilson, but I’ll make sure he knows you are agitated.”

The elevator stopped at the office level and you went straight to Steve’s office. It had big tinted glass walls so you could see him talking to Sam even before you got there. When you knocked on the door they both looked at you with concern.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sam said. “And I’ll send you that intel.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said, walking the other man out. Steve must have been able to see how stressed you were because he pulled you into his arms as soon as he reached you, and just held you close as Sam left. “What is it, sweetheart? Did something happen? I thought you were going into college today.”

“I was,” you said, melting into him and letting him support your weight. “There was a guy following me…”

Steve held you out at arm’s length and looked you over. “What?” He asked. “Did you get a good look at them? Is Geo okay? Where is he?”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, rubbing his arms. “It was just a pap. But they don’t normally follow me when I’m on my own, and it didn’t feel good. Too many bad memories of my past.”

Steve relaxed and hugged you again in soothing circles. “Because you’re pregnant?”

“I think so,” you said with a nod. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” You shook your head a little. “I know that this is just one of those things I have to deal with because I am with you - and I don’t blame you for it. It’s not like you signed up for the army to invite the vultures in to pick apart your life. You just want to make the world safer. And for me specifically, you have done so much to ensure that. But I didn’t like how it made me feel.”

Steve nodded. “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

You nosed at his neck. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just… Is there anything we can do to minimize it? Make it unlikely it will happen again? Or at least make it so I’m not alone when it does. I don’t like the idea of going back to a full security detail, but…”

Steve shook his head and pulled away from you. “No, I totally understand,” he said going over to his computer. “I’ll get you a driver. They can take you to and from Geo’s school and college. That way you’re going out through the garage and the cars have tinted windows so they won’t see who you are. It should be a safer way to go shopping too. They don’t tend to follow the cars. The payoff is too erratic because half the time it’s just our agents or they end up going somewhere with parking and losing sight of them. If you do want to take a walk you can always just take me or Bucky. And if that doesn’t work we’ll amp up security again.

You moved over to him as he tapped away on the computer and sat down in his lap. He looked up at you and smiled. “Thank you for this,” you said. “I know I’m being stupid.”

“No, you aren’t,” Steve assured you. “Even if it was just a case of something harmless triggering your past, that’s not being stupid. I hate when cameras have their flash on. It gives me flashbacks to the war every time, and it’s one of the only times I feel truly vulnerable because the dissonance between that immediate danger that I feel and the safety of where I am -” he shook his head “- I want to fight and know there’s nothing to fight. But those people who do that job, they aren’t harmless. They predate on people. They have caused the death of people. Tony’s house ended up blown up because they stalked him while someone was sending him threats. What they do is not okay, and you not wanting to be alone around them is normal.”

You sighed and kissed him gently. “I love you so much, you know that?”

He smiled up at you. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He rubbed your hip as he looked up into your eyes. “I had better go back to work. Did you want to go to school? I can get someone to drive you in.”

You shook your head. “No. I think I’ll just work from home. Can you have someone ready to do Geo’s pick up with me though?”

“Of course,” he said. “I might even come down with you, just to make sure the plan works.”

You smiled and pecked his lips, before standing up. “Thank you, honey.”

“No need to thank me,” he said. “Keeping you and Geo safe is my top priority.”

You headed out, much more relaxed than when you arrived, and once again filled with a mixture of love and gratitude for the men who you had accepted in your life.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #until the end of the world

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Seungkwan: Void (Part Two)

Characters: Seungkwan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, a little fluff but also some angst ig????

Word count: 2,592

Summary: Seungkwan can’t resist the urge to go searching for the banshee any longer, but his trip into the woods has him coming face-to-face with a strange girl who doesn’t seem to remember anything about where she came from or how she got where she is. The only things she knows are the things the voices in her head that Seungkwan doesn’t know about tell her. And that strange girl is you, his mate.

Previous | Next | Void Masterlist

Despite the fact Seungkwan had to explain he just found you randomly in the woods last night, the pack didn’t seem too concerned about how you had shown up. His pack was pretty friendly, so it wasn’t like it was a surprise that Seungkwan would bring home a helpless girl – especially when it was clear he had imprinted on you. However, they still didn’t understand why he’d just suddenly left in the middle of everything.

“I heard the screaming,” he had explained when Soomin brought you upstairs to get some clothes for the day, “and I just felt…something. My instincts told me to go find it.”

“Your instincts want you dead, apparently,” Yeji scoffed.

“Not the only one…” Jihoon muttered with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Does anybody know where Soonyoung is?” Seungcheol demanded as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Maybe he went to town last night after--” Seokmin paused, realizing that the alpha being in town when it was daytime wasn’t good. “…Oh.”

Soonyoung was notorious for one-night-stands. It wasn’t odd for him to go into town randomly at night and return early in the morning before the sun had risen. But this time, he didn’t come home, apparently.

“We need to go find him and get him home,” Seungcheol stated with a final nod.

“How? Everyone in town is super on-guard after what happened with Soomin and Danbi,” Jeonghan reminded them.

“And not many of us can slip in and out of town easily,” Minghao pointed out. “It’ll have to be one of the girls to go get him, probably.”

“Jooyeon will probably get arrested again,” Jeonghan scoffed. “ But Soomin, Danbi, and Jia can’t go.”

“Yeji could but she’d need to hide her ears and tail...” Seokmin trailed off, looking the girl in question up and down.

“I can go,” your soft voice chirped.

You had come down the stairs and into the kitchen, overhearing the conversation. You had gone into the nearby town only a handful of times – well, more like you’d wandered there a handful of times – but you were sure you could figure out your way around. Besides, if it was really so important that their pack member get home, you didn’t mind helping.

Not to mention you could hear urgent whispers telling you to help.

“No,” Seungkwan practically whined.

Your eyes darted to him, ignoring the odd smirks and snickers of the pack. He walked over to you and placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, “_____, you can’t go to town alone. If anybody finds out you’re with us–”

“How could anybody find that out?” you shrugged, not understanding the big deal.

Seungkwan just shook his head, “You just can’t go alone.”

“Who do we send?” Seokmin wondered.

“We have to send Seungkwan, obviously,” Jihoon stated, gesturing to you and the werewolf who wouldn’t release his grip on you.

“Why Seungkwan?” you wondered, cocking your head to one side.

“Nothing!” the boy in question quickly shook his head, but you did notice his cheeks turning a bright pink. “It’s nothing.”

‘It’s you!’ you could hear excited whispers in your head from the same female-sounding voice that you’d been hearing for the last week or so, ‘You’re the one!’

‘The one for what?’

But you couldn’t hear the voice over the pack’s frantic planning. You were apparently going into town with Seungkwan and Jeonghan.

“The guards haven’t seen all of us,” Soomin shrugged with a nod, “so they should be safe. I can help with the eyes if Danbi’s busy with the baby. I know she’s been sniffling a bit.”

“She’s probably not leaving Jiwoo until she’s feeling better,” Seungcheol said.

Soomin chuckled, “Alright, I’ll get started. _____, would you like to watch?”

You were amazed how Soomin was able to mix together a few different things in glass bottles you had never seen before, and turn the wolves’ golden eyes into a chocolate brown. In fact, you couldn’t stop staring up at Seungkwan’s eyes, finding the brown made his eyes seem a bit bigger somehow. Innocent, almost.

Seungkwan stayed by your side while Jeonghan walked a bit ahead, leading the way through the forest. He silently hoped they would be able to find out where you came from – sure, you seemed harmless and all, but what kind of girl sits out in the middle of the woods at night while it’s raining? Maybe being in town would make you remember something since you seemed to not recall walking into the forest.

While the three of you walked through the dense forest, Seungkwan babbled to you about the pack, explaining that there were a few members of the pack that were asleep that you’d meet later. He also told you all about their previous issues with the town and even with some of the wolves themselves -- you realized the pack couldn’t seem to catch a break.

“Why didn’t Wonwoo like Mingyu?” you wondered, your hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket Seungkwan had given you. “Wouldn’t he like that his sister would be with somebody he trusts?”

“Nobody’s really sure,” Seungkwan hummed, trying to figure out just exactly how his brother felt. “He didn’t want Danbi to be ‘stuck’ with the pack, but I didn’t see her going anywhere to start a life anytime soon. Honestly, her being a mate made the most sense to me.”

You could hear the whispers picking up again, but you couldn’t hear them over Seungkwan. However, you favored listening to Seungkwan’s stories rather than the voices, so you just carried on with the conversation.

Seungkwan’s talking helped pass time – maybe not for Jeonghan, but for you – until you reached the edge of town. Jeonghan paused by the treeline, scanning the small area. Nobody was really around, so he figured your group could slip in pretty easily before blending in with the townsfolk.

“Do you know where Soonyoung usually hangs out to find...people?” Seungkwan asked the older boy. “I guess that would be a start.”

“No, but I can smell the idiot,” Jeonghan let out a short laugh before stepping across the invisible line that separated the forest from the town.

Seungkwan gently grabbed your elbow and led you along with him. But once you were a little further in, he let go, and you put one arm through his once it started to get a bit more crowded. You didn’t notice how Seungkwan blushed at the small gesture.

Jeonghan continued to lead the way, subtly sniffing the air. However, once he turned down a corner, a voice inside you screamed for you to stop. Your feet automatically pressed into the ground, and you let your arm drop from Seungkwan’s. He noticed you weren’t following, and stopped a few feet away, turning his head.

“_____?” Seungkwan asked, cocking his head to one side.

Due to the tone Seungkwan used, Jeonghan turned to see what he sounded so confused about. When he saw you staring wide-eyed down the narrow pathway, he seemed intrigued.

“What is it?” he wondered.

You shook your head, the voice telling you there was danger down there, “I don’t want to go that way.”

“Do you recognize this place?” Jeonghan questioned, slowly walking toward you.

“N-no,” you replied, shaken up by how badly the voice wanted you to get away from the alley, “but…I just can’t go down there. Is there another way?”

Seungkwan reached out to you, only touching your arm when you didn’t move away from him. He stood beside you, searching your eyes like the answer to what was wrong would be there.

“It’ll be a little longer, but we can go around,” Jeonghan shrugged before leading you and Seungkwan a different way.

You walked numbly beside Seungkwan, holding the inside of his elbow as you spaced out and focused on the voice for more information. Thankfully, the town was still a bit quieter, or everybody was at the market.

The voice – the feminine voice that seemed to be talking to you the most lately – seemed to only show pain; both physical and emotional. You could almost feel the heartache she seemed to feel, and it was…weird. It didn’t frighten you – you’d experienced this weird phenomena before – but it made you want to learn more.

“_____?” Seungkwan’s voice was a bit sharp like he’d already said your name multiple times before.

You shook your head, ending the trance you were in as you looked up at Seungkwan, “Huh?”

He looked concerned, a crease forming between his brows, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a soft smile to show that you really were okay. “I’m sorry for concerning you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he chuckled a bit nervously.

“He’s nearby…” Jeonghan mused, in his own little world. “The question is: what do we do when we get there? We can’t just knock on a stranger’s door and ask for him.”

Jeonghan’s sense of smell led them to the front of a quaint house with flowers bordering the short walkway to the front door. It seemed cute enough, but none of them planned on going up to the door either way.

“Maybe he’ll sense us nearby and it’ll scare him out of the house,” Seungkwan joked with a snort.

But sure enough, the front door opened just enough for the alpha to slip out and slink his way down the walkway to the older wolf. His golden eyes were wide, not understanding why Jeonghan, Seungkwan, and a stranger had come to find him.

“You’re pretty late, you know,” Jeonghan told him, acid in his voice as his brown eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to come home before sunrise, and you missed that window by a couple hours. I get you’re an alpha, but you can’t be this reckless.”

Despite his status, Soonyoung seemed to shrink down at Jeonghan’s words, his eyes finding the ground, “Sorry...”

“Wait,” Seungkwan suddenly stepped forward, looking at Soonyoung, “can we talk to your...uh, friend for a moment?”

“Seungkwan, we need to get–”

“What if they know _____?” Seungkwan asked, quieting the elder’s protests.

Jeonghan sighed, carding his fingers through his hair, “Alright… Are they awake? It’s better if we go inside so nobody sees us out here and reports anything to Donghae.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung let out a deep sigh as he turned back around.

The alpha led the way back to the door. Jeonghan gestured for you and Seungkwan to go first, so Seungkwan walked with you to the door while the eldest surveyed the area to make sure nobody was watching. Once at the door, Soonyoung ushered everybody inside.

The door opened to an average-looking house, where a tall girl with dark skin and doe-like eyes stood at the counter, making herself breakfast. She seemed to be at least Soonyoung’s age, and she looked startled to see so many people.

“Mia,” Soonyoung spoke up, stepping around the small group, “these are my friends, and um…”

“_____,” Seungkwan spoke up for you.

“_____,” Soonyoung repeated. He hadn’t even met you before, but from the way Seungkwan was looking at you and acting around you, he could tell what was going on. “Anyway, I’m sorry to just come back into your home without warning, but _____ was lost in the woods last night and can’t remember how to get home. Do you happen to recognize her or know where she lives?”

The girl named Mia looked at you for a brief moment before shaking her head, looking at Soonyoung again, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who she is. I know almost everybody in town, but she’s unfamiliar to me.”

“She might not live in this town, then,” Jeonghan suggested with a shrug.

“We’ll keep her with us until we’re able to find out more information,” Soonyoung decided. He then looked to Mia, giving her a small smile. “Again, we’re sorry for intruding. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too,” she grinned, her smile more directed to the alpha. “Please get home safely.”

The four of you left through the back and made your way back to the woods, with the three werewolves wondering just where in the world you came from.

Once you returned to the house, Soonyoung was getting reprimanded by not only the other two alpha, but especially Junhui, Minghao, and Chan. Seungkwan explained that Soonyoung was the original alpha to those three, so his original pack tended to stick by him the most. In general, though, everybody was upset with him for being late -- Joshua especially had some choice words for him that Seungkwan covered your ears for.

“I lost track of time, okay,” Soonyoung explained even though he knew that was no excuse. “After being woken up last night, I couldn’t get back to sleep so I went to town. I overslept. I know I messed up, okay?”

“Well, consider yourself lucky for not getting caught,” Seungcheol told him. “Just go get some sleep. You look awful.”

Soonyoung stood and walked out of the room without another word. You continued to sit beside Seungkwan on the couch, only really understanding half of that whole conversation. You weren’t sure why Soonyoung seemed to go out into town so often to sleep around, but that wasn’t your business, either. People had needs.

You suddenly heard a name in your head, but you weren’t sure the significance of it. You knew you heard the name before because Seungkwan had said it, but you didn’t know why it was so important. You just shoved the random thought to the back of your mind.

“Anyway,” Seungcheol began, “The rest of the pack should meet _____. Where’re Jun, Joshua, and Hansol?”

“I woke them up,” Soomin promised from beside her mate on the couch. “They should be down soon.”

Three wolves entered the room, rubbing their eyes, yawning, and stretching. But one of them caught your eye. Messy hair from sleep, pink cheeks from being pressed into his pillow, and what seemed to be a resting frown on his face. He whacked one of the wolves in the head for a comment about his bedhead before his golden eyes landed on you, taking in you scared expression.

You weren’t scared of him, necessarily. It was the sudden loud buzzing of that one voice. But the house was so full of people who were talking that you couldn’t hear it. You could feel its excitement and that this boy was important to it, but you couldn’t hear what it said. You wanted to hear what it said.

You opened your mouth and inhaled, but heard nothing but silence except the soft voice in your head that frantically chanted one name.

The pack, however, heard the ear-splitting scream that kept them up at night.

Hands clamped over ears. Most of the wolves whined or howled at how intense the sound was, especially now that it was in the same room as them. Seungcheol covered Jooyeon like there was an explosion, Yeji huddled into Jihoon, Soomin tried to cover Wonwoo’s ears instead of her own, and the rest of the pack either doubled over or dropped to the floor.

Your scream didn’t end abruptly. It echoed like it always did, leaving you just staring at the boy that gave you bad vibes. Slowly, the pack sat back up, and stared at you in shock and horror.

You were the banshee; you were the thing that signaled death, and you were in their house, screaming at one of their own.

#seventeen #seungkwan #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenario #werewolf!seventeen #seungkwan au #seungkwan imagine #seungkwan oneshot #seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan scenario #werewolf!seungkwan

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zigtheeortega · 3 years

Text

if we meet again

[part one of the again series]

pairing | bryce x mc

word count | 10k

warnings | mentions of sex, innuendos, drinking.

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @dakotawinchester, @writinghereandthere, @pixelsandkink, @masquerade-reimagined, @choicesarehard, @nerdferatum, @bobbymckenzie, @agentdumortain, @bryceslahela, @lahellacute, @violinet, @zigsnose, @adamdusmortain, @drsobemoji, @choeries, @houserosario, @plasticdodecagon, @noimarocketman (tagged sideblogs instead of main blogs!)

author’s note | so i recently finished the before trilogy of films, and i really wanted to write something based off of it but in a way that would better encapsulate bryce and my mc spencer! part one consists of years 1 - 4, taking place through their undergrad years at university. this is gonna be a bit of a journey so buckle up!

read on ao3! [disclaimer: ao3 version has smut included, not separate.]

•─────────────────•

year one

The ride from the airport to her parents’ home was long and grueling, the slushy ice pelting the windshield barely passing for snow.

It was practically sub-zero outside, a stark difference between the mid seventies weather she’d just left.

Boarding a plane wearing a tank top and layering as she stepped off was a weird experience to say the least. It was like stepping into another world.

The cookie cutter suburbs were nauseatingly bland. Was this really what her parents wanted?

Sure, they were the typical awestruck immigrant family who were obsessed with the American experience, but to be wholly consumed by it? God she never wanted a roundtrip date to come so fast in her life.

They’d closed on the house faster than she could complain about it, but she couldn’t have done much anyways. They’d packed the house up right before she left for her freshman year of college, so the decision didn’t affect her too much.

The slush came down harder, sounding nearly like hail on the roof of her taxi.

She glanced down at her dirty tennis shoes and grimaced – she dreaded having to lug her suitcase from the taxi to her front door.

When it screeched to a stop, she handed the driver a couple bills (leaving a hefty tip, because hey, it was the holidays) and retrieved her things from the trunk.

Backpack slung over one shoulder, suitcase gripped in her right hand, she braced the freezing wet rain.

The walk from the mailbox to the front door was way longer than she remembered. About halfway up the short stairs, she made a crucial mistake. The ball of her foot caught a patch of ice and she tumbled to the ground.

“Ah, fuck,” she grumbled, twisting her body so she was sitting on the stairs. The rain seeped through her jeans, freezing her ass and thighs.

“Hey, miss, you okay?” A voice called from across the lawn.

Her loose hoodie obstructed her vision, so she couldn’t see the man, but she heard his shoes squelch across the grass as he jogged towards her.

“Here, lemme take that,” he said, grabbing her backpack and suitcase before helping her up with his free hand.

She tossed her hood back to catch a glimpse of the kind stranger, and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of the handsome boy in front of her.

A single dimple appeared on one of his flushed cheeks as he flashed a grin at her, his hair damp from the falling rain. “You good?” He asked again, brown eyes searching hers.

“Uh, yeah, I’m alright. Thanks for coming to help me up,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I’ll help you to the front door. This is your house, right? I’m not aiding and abetting a burglar?” He teased, turning to walk towards her door.

“No, no. My parents live here,” she said, pointing at the house.

“And you don’t?”

“Technically yeah, in between semesters,” she said, shrugging. “Just took my last final this morning.”

“Oh, cool, me too. I made it in a couple hours ago,” he said, gesturing to the house to the left of theirs.

“So, our parents are neighbors?”

He grinned. “You sound disappointed.”

She shook her head, shoving her hands in her pockets. “No, it’s nice to know someone my age around here. They moved into this house right as I was moving into my dorm, so I didn’t get a chance to get to know anyone.”

“I guarantee my parents were the one to sell you this house,” he said, handing her the backpack and rolling her the suitcase.

“Your parents are realtors? That’s cool,” she said, nodding. “They must be great at their jobs if they convinced them to buy the house so fast.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling at the edges, his irresistible dimple popping up again. “I don’t know shit about the housing market, stranger.”

She couldn’t hold her giggle back. His laugh was infectious. “I’m the stranger? You ran up to me first.”

“Yeah, but I landed first, so I deem you the stranger,” he said, gently poking her arm. “So, stranger, do you have a name?”

“Spencer Matsuzaki,” she said, holding a hand out, half of her palm covered with the damp wrist of her hoodie.

“Bryce Lahela. Nice to meet you, stranger.”

––––

The first night home wasn’t terrible. She was practically interrogated, though.

She zoned out, slipping into the same routine she always did when she was bombarded with questions about school.

She had to stay neutral and cordial while explaining aspects of her life in grave detail on top of leaving out tons of information for her parents' health. Her parents would go into cardiac arrest if they knew how much she’d drank that semester.

After dinner, she retreated into her room for the night, grimacing at the catalogue-esque decor. Her parents really leaned into the middle class american aesthetic, and she wasn’t fond of it.

She missed living in the city. Their apartment overlooked her favorite movie theater, favorite coffee shop, and the playground of her old elementary school a couple streets over.

She missed being within walking distance of places that harbored her favorite memories. And from her new window, her view was nothing more than the house across the street and a few scattered bare trees.

The only thing she enjoyed about her new house was the balcony in front of her window, just large enough for her to sit comfortably with another person. Not like that was happening anytime soon, though.

She tugged the blanket around her shoulders, trying to fight off the biting cold. She tightened the drawstrings of her hoodie, shielding her headphones from the wind so she could hear her music clearly.

Her thoughts wandered to the boy next door.

Bryce Lahela. Beautiful face, beautiful name.

She couldn’t really put a finger on it, but something about him was so familiar. Like she’d known him for lifetimes already.

God, she admired people with that quality – being able to make someone so comfortable the minute you meet them that they just slip into whatever void you’d needed filling.

Potentially a dangerous quality, but Spencer didn’t let herself think about that possibility.

The snow had let up, the freezing temperature preserving what’d already fallen. She allowed herself a glance over at the Lahela residence, half hoping she’d find him outside.

Thankfully enough, he was exiting the front door with a wide shovel in hand, bundled up properly, unlike when they’d met a couple hours before.

She watched him as he easily shoveled the muddy sludge off of the walkways. It was just quiet enough that she could hear his soft grunts with effort at the initial plunge of the shovel into the snow.

She didn’t mean to stare. But what else was there to watch? The road was quiet, bare, like a car passing by too loudly would break the suburbian immersion.

After he’d shoveled the first pathway leading up to the house, he moved to the driveway – not before he ripped the beanie off of his head, shaking out his golden strands.

She watched unabashedly, trying to figure out how the hell a gorgeous surfer bro straight out of a Hollister ad was living next door.

He squinted in her general direction, throwing up a gloved hand to cover his eyes. A grin spread quickly, and he tossed the shovel to the ground with the other hand, using it to wave.

“Hey, stranger!” He called.

She ducked down, trying to hide her blushing cheeks as his laugh rang out, disrupting the silence.

–––

Ten pages from the end of her crime novel, right before they revealed the killer, a heavy handed knock caused Spencer to jolt nearly a foot into the air from her sitting position on the couch.

She picked up the book that morning, trying to do something productive that’d double as an excuse to get out of conversing with her parents. Eight hours later, give or take, and they’d barely bugged her for meals, let alone awkward small talk.

Shuffling to the door in her pajama pants, she yawned as she yanked the door open, expecting to see a mailman or something of that nature.

Bryce stood there instead, flirty smile and all, dimple pronounced like the cherry on top of his overwhelming attractiveness.

“Am I boring you already? Sheesh,” he teased, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She cut her yawn off, squeezing her eyes shut. “Sorry, I –” She cut herself off with yet another yawn, shaking her head. “Uh, sorry. I know that was probably super ugly.”

He shrugged. “I thought it was cute.”

She tugged her arms around herself, the tank top doing virtually nothing to shield her from the cold. “So… What’s up?”

He grinned, digging in his pocket. “I’m glad you asked.”

He whipped out two tickets, handing them to her. “Light show. You and me. Now.”

“Now?” She asked, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

“Yeah, now. What about it?”

She gestured to her outfit. “I’m not dressed.”

“So? Get dressed,” he shrugged again.

She rolled her eyes. “You really think my parents will let me out this late? I came back to a curfew, you know.”

“Oh. We can work around that.”

“How?” She was genuinely baffled by this guy’s confidence.

“Sneak out.”

“Did you… Did you just skip over the part where I hinted at how strict my parents are?”

He shrugged, again. “Worst case scenario, they ground you for the rest of the break. Then you go back to college in a couple weeks, and they can’t boss you around there, so what are you really risking?”

She chewed her lip, contemplating. “I mean, I can’t argue with you on that one.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Yeah. You’re lucky my parents aren’t home right now,” she said, jabbing an accusatory finger at him.

“Like they could resist this face.”

––––

Downtown – or what she presumed was downtown – was overtaken by lights, the edges of the area blocked off, vendors lined up in parking spaces, nets of overhead lights illuminating the huge displays below.

They’d been walking in silence for a while, just soaking it in and basking in the holiday spirit.

Despite her disdain for the town, Spencer loved the way they celebrated the holidays.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Bryce said a bit suddenly, running off before she had a chance to respond.

“Oh… kay,” Spencer murmured, watching him disappear into the crowd. She tugged at her beanie, raking shaky fingers through her hair.

Bryce was… unwavering. He had such a strong personality and a knack for flirting without meaning to.

To put it in its simplest terms, he made her nervous. Really nervous.

It was like the minute he left her immersion was broken and she realized just how hot he was and that she should be nervous.

Her eyes wandered, trying to alleviate some of her apprehension. She hadn’t been to a community-unifying event like that one before, so watching the families and children prance through the snow was enough to fulfill the soft spot in her heart only classic Christmas movies could fill.

“Here,” Bryce huffed from behind her, breaking her concentration.

She turned at the sound of his voice, flinching when she realized how close he was to her, disposable coffee cup in hand, steam slithering out of the small hole in the lid.

“What’s that?”

“Hot chocolate. I figured you’d want something to warm you up,” he smiled, lifting one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“Oh, this is perfect,” she said graciously, taking the cup from his hands, warming both by the way their fingers brushed each others’ and the heat from the drink. “Thank you.”

“Ah, no need to thank me. It’s the least I could do after dragging you out here,” he said a bit sheepishly, kicking the toe of his boot into the snow.

“You didn’t drag me out anywhere. You were convincing,” she laughed, taking a small sip of the hot chocolate, revelling in the way it warmed her from the inside out. “Maybe a bit too convincing.”

“I don’t need to know how powerful I am or I’ll let it go to my head,” he winked. “How is it?”

“Delicious.”

He nodded. “Perfect.”

She sipped on her drink in silence for a while, racking her brain to come up with conversation topics.

They’d really only spoken in passing, so what the fuck were they supposed to talk about?

“So… you want to ride the train?” He asked, pointing at the train riding through the town square.

Within minutes they were seated on the train in the caboose – the very last seat. Families were spread out through the first couple cars, then onto couples.

They probably didn’t want toddlers watching high school aged kids swapping spit, so they sent them to the back.

That notion made Spencer nervous. Was she on a date? He hadn’t really specified – hell, he was barely giving her details about where they were going before dragging her out of her house.

The train began to move, slowly riding through the square, the families in the front chatting and the children giggling and waving at the passing patrons.

She chatted with Bryce about nothing in particular, just kind of getting to know each other. She found out he loved baseball, hated night classes, and was a huge fan of pineapple – he could smell it in her shampoo.

She’d just begun to relax before noticing the young couple in front of her lean in for a kiss that turned a bit heated. Her hands were clasped in her lap to keep them from trembling, her breath just as shaky.

A warm arm grazed her shoulders, his arm resting on the top of the seat. There wasn’t any pressure for her to do anything with him. But she kind of wanted to.

She mustered up the courage to flick her gaze in his direction, settling on his soft, pleasant smile, seemingly permanent on Bryce’s features.

“Is this a date?” She blurted, cursing herself immediately.

He didn’t seem phased.

“If you want it to be.”

She definitely did.

––––

The walk to her front door was long, even longer than when she was on her own lugging her belongings through the icy slush.

“I had a really nice time, Bryce,” she said, ambling up the last couple steps.

“Me, too. I’m glad I bought an extra ticket yesterday,” he grinned.

She raised a brow at him, prompting him to continue.

“After I helped you inside I immediately left to go get tickets,” he said bashfully. His cheeks were flushed – from the cold or the admission, she had no idea.

“So you’d had this date planned for a whole day?” She asked, a bit taken aback. He’d definitely painted it out to be a spur of the moment thing, no premeditation in sight.

“So it was a date,” he teased, dimple even more prominent as he spoke.

She scrunched her lips to the side to hide her own smile. “Yeah, I think it was.”

“Can I kiss you?”

She made the grave mistake of breaking eye contact, her gaze darting from his mouth back to his eyes. He closed the gap between them in one step.

“I can’t kiss you in front of my house. My parents could see,” she whispered as his gloved hand flicked her messy strands away from her cheeks.

“You wanna save this for another time?” Her heart couldn’t help but race at his playful tone.

She nodded.

“How long are you gonna be here for break?” He asked. “I wanna see you again.”

“I’ll be here through the week.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pulled her into a hug, warm and enveloping despite the cold. “Goodnight, Spencer. Sweet dreams.”

She was so comfortable, so safe in his grip that when she felt him loosen it, she squeezed him tighter without really meaning to.

It was scary how quickly she’d grown attached to a complete stranger.

“‘Night,” she waved, eyes still trained on him as she closed the door.

––––

It took her way too long to fall asleep that night.

His last question and her agreeance to the terms ran through her head on loop.

She was anticipating what he was going to do next. Excited to see how the rest of her break would look like.

After a restless night, she awoke pretty early, lounging around in bed for way too long, aimlessly scrolling through social media.

A day ago, she’d have been jealous of her friends vacationing at the beach, but… she wasn’t as upset at the idea of being home for break.

She stood up, stretching and popping her limbs, grabbing a hoodie from her luggage to throw on.

As she did, something caught her attention, just at the edge of her peripheral – a folded slip of paper in her window sill.

She grabbed it, unravelling the damp paper, trying to decipher the bleeding ink.

“Had to leave earlier than I thought. Sorry. Not sure when I’ll see you again, so here’s my number.”

The paper had been covered in water for a long while, so long that the number at the bottom was smudged, the hardest to read out of the whole message. She could barely make out the area code, let alone the rest of it.

She crumpled it up and threw it in the trash, deciding she could just head over and ask his parents for his number instead if he’d left for school.

After trudging across the lawn through the snow, she noticed something was a bit off, but decided to push the feeling down and ring the doorbell.

She peered through the glass of their front door, realizing that the lights were off, clothes and boxes and bags strewn across the foyer.

No one was home.

––––

year two

The moment the taxi pulled to a stop in front of her house, her eyes searched the front lawn of the house next door.

The familiar sensation of disappointment lingered, despite her constant chastising to not get her hopes up.

She sat on her balcony for a couple hours a day, the space heater on full blast at her feet, trying not to look desperate as her eyes flickered to and from Bryce’s house.

But no one entered or exited the house all break.

––––

year three

He stared down the bottom of the glass, eyes trained on the milky film the eggnog left behind, the spiced rum shots he’d taken warming his limbs.

The trial had been grueling.

No one could’ve prepared him for the way the legal system chewed him up and spat him out each time he entered the courtroom and sat on the opposite side of the room, avoiding his parents’ cold glares.

He shouldn’t have had to testify against them in the first place, but who else were they going to call to the stand? Keiki? She could barely write her own name, let alone understand her rights.

And she shouldn’t have to see her parents – hell, her whole family – being scrutinized and ripped apart, televised for anyone within a thousand mile radius.

He didn’t know that this town was their escape.

If someone would’ve told him two years ago that his first Christmas in college would’ve left him in shambles, his entire world upturned, he wouldn’t have believed them.

Thank god it was one of the only properties they owned that was untouched by their blood money.

Word had spread to his university students, causing him to have to go into hiding. Did all his work from home, got special permission from the chancellor to move his courses online.

He was forced to stay in Hawaii, juggling court and school on top of the press and the general stress of life – he’d been on autopilot since his parents woke him up in the middle of the night to fly back home.

The moment he finished his finals that semester, he boarded the plane without a second thought.

He needed an escape.

Despite the whirlwind, she was on the back of his mind through it all.

Anytime his life got a little too difficult, his mind roamed to the last time he felt normal – the last 48 hours before everything went to shit.

When he’d touched down he’d entered the empty, dusty house, throwing his things down and trudging next door.

The heavy raps of his knuckles against the wooden door were the only display of confidence he could muster.

Is Spencer here? He asked.

She’s in Europe for break.

Europe.

Of all the places she had to be during the holidays, it had to be across the world.

So he found himself at the bar, a newly 21 year old downing holiday drinks as fast as the bartender could make them.

She’d probably forgotten about him. It’s best he moved on anyways.

––––

year four

Graduation was so close she could taste it.

Yeah, she was drowning in med school applications and coming down from her post MCAT high, but her degree was peeking over the horizon, just within her reach.

She could only afford to visit home for a couple days before she had to roadtrip to a couple med schools to tour and interview.

She’d grown into herself the past three years, gaining confidence she didn’t know she had in her. Countless haircuts, style changes, shifts in interest – anytime she was uncomfortable she reinvented herself. It was freeing as hell.

So… going home was weird. Like she was regressing. She knew she wasn’t, but it didn’t stop the itching feeling that she didn’t belong there.

Her parents convinced her to visit for the holidays since it was her last year before she was truly on her own. The car ride was anxiety inducing – she tried to shove the thoughts to the back of her brain.

It’d been three years. She couldn’t dwell on it anymore. It was just a fun weekend, a spontaneous date, a gorgeous guy. Nothing more than that.

She’d moved on for sure – lots of dates, sloppy bar makeouts, and one night stands – but she couldn’t completely forget about the stranger.

It wasn’t like anything super memorable happened – it was a classic crush because of how confident he was.

Now that she’d started to emulate that same confidence herself, the allure was mostly gone, but she just couldn’t let him go no matter how hard she tried.

This time her eyes flickered to the house next door, gaze lingering a bit longer than she wanted to allow herself to look.

At least on paper she was growing.

–––––

Her first dinner at home was the same as always. She spent most of the time dodging intrusive questions and diplomatically answering as well as she could.

Maybe she should’ve thanked her parents for pressuring her to come home – it was perfect interview preparation and she didn’t have to lift a finger.

Her room was untouched as usual, the decor nauseatingly basic – if she hated it before, she hated it more now.

The suburban life was even farther away from what she’d wanted three years ago. Fast paced city life and a job in a world renowned hospital were her only two goals as far as she was concerned. Anything else could wait.

As she unpacked her toiletries, she found herself glancing at the door to her balcony.

She shook it off, choosing to settle in bed with a warm blanket with her laptop and planner, trying to focus on her diploma application.

––––

She jolted awake, scrubbing the sleeve of her jacket across her cheek, grimacing when she saw streaks of drool on the fabric.

She shuddered a bit, realizing she fell asleep on top of the covers, the room’s temperature absolutely freezing.

The space heater was close by, luckily, so she didn’t have to shuffle far to plug it in, crouching down next to it to rub her hands in front of it.

The window to her balcony was cracked just slightly – it’d probably blown open bc of the wind or something. She pushed herself to her feet again, closing and locking the door, but not before catching a glimpse of a light. It wasn’t a streetlight. It was a porch light.

She flung the door open and stepped onto the balcony, ignoring the snow seeping through her fuzzy socks, numbing her toes.

Bryce’s lights were on, and fresh tire tracks trailed up the driveway to the garage.

––––

She tossed and turned that night, a little glad that she’d gotten at least some sleep in the form of a nap.

She gave up after a while, brewing coffee and sitting in the kitchen with her laptop for a couple of hours before her parents awoke.

When they finally woke up, she practically jumped at the chance to ask them about him.

“No one’s lived next door for years. Someone comes and checks up on it once or twice a year, but other than that, it’s vacant,” her mother said, elbows deep in a sink full of dirty plates.

She was thankful her mom was preoccupied so she wouldn’t see her deflate.

––––

Spencer allowed herself approximately thirty minutes of sulking before she made a to-do list of everything she needed to get done before noon.

She’d been home for less than a day and she was already itching to get out.

The drive from her parents’ house to the tiny coffee shop was short, the handful of tables inside bare. She guessed it was because most people were at home enjoying spending time with family – she was the odd one out for having her planner and laptop splayed across the table.

She was neck deep in a chem textbook when she saw him.

He was more chiseled. Taller, too.

The beanie was tugged tight around his head, cheeks flushed. The quarter zip up fit him like a glove, hugging every single muscle.

He slipped his gloves off, tucking them into his pocket, squinting – probably trying to decipher the inane pun names for each drink.

“Can I get a, uh, latte with a couple espresso shots?” She heard him ask, peeking over the top of her textbook, trying to get a good look at him.

He chuckled pretty suddenly, pointing at the clear display of pastries. “Add one of those little things onto it.”

“You mean the ‘Rudolph Red Velvet’ cake pop or the ‘Dasher & Dancer Dark Chocolate’, sir?” The teen said.

His grin stretched even wider, hunching over to read the labels. “Can you tell me the rest of the flavors?”

“Well, we’ve got the full setup of reindeers. It gets pretty confusing at times – ’Dasher & Dancer Dark Chocolate’, ‘Prancer & Vixen Vanilla’, ‘Comet & Cupid Cheesecake’, ‘Donner & Blitzen Berry’, and ‘Rudolph Red Velvet’,” the teen listed off, pointing at the nearly identical cake pops.

He laughed, booming throughout the small room, ringing out even over the blenders.

Yeah, that was Bryce. No doubt about it.

“Give me one of each,” he said, handing the teen a couple bills. While they counted the change, Bryce tossed a $20 bill onto the counter. “This is compensation for having to read those god awful names.”

They mirrored his expression, pocketing the bill.

Spencer was nearly frozen with fear – she didn’t think she was going to run into him. She looked frumpy and felt exhausted, and was a little frustrated at how little she understood from the passages she’d tried deciphering.

She stood up, then sat down immediately. She stood up again, conflicted.

But before she could decide what to do, he turned, coffee in hand, bag of cake pops in the other – one cake pop tucked deep into his cheek.

She saw him.

He saw her.

Time slowed.

She was grateful that he was the first to move towards her, eyes bright, gaze soft like he’d seen an old friend – God, that reaction alone was enough to make Spencer float above the clouds.

He chewed his cake pop on the way over, setting down his bag and coffee near the edge of the table out of the way of her mess.

“Hey,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food, chewing vigorously.

“Bryce, oh my god, I – I thought I’d never see you again – you just disappeared and –”

He held up a hand, swallowing. “What’d you say?”

“Oh, I said that I thought I’d never see you again –”

“Wait, wait,” he flipped the side of his beanie up, revealing wireless headphones, which he tugged out and immediately pocketed.

Christ. Embarrassing. Her cheeks burned, inwardly cringing. This is going so swimmingly, Spencer.

He shook his head incredulously, mouth moving like he wanted to say something, but no words came.

“I… didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, eyes slowly raking over her features.

“Oh my god, I didn’t think I’d see you, Bryce,” she said, nervously adjusting her glasses. Good thing he didn’t notice her recycling sentiments.

“So… how have you been?” He smiled, taking a sip of his latte.

He was playing this way cooler than she was. How was he not freaking the fuck out?

“I’ve been good. Uh, good and kinda busy I guess. I’m waiting to hear back from a couple of med schools and I’m graduating this spring, so I’m excited about that,” she said, trying and failing to figure out how to condense three years worth of personal growth into a couple sentences without boring him to tears. “What about you?”

He nodded, tipping back the steaming latte again. “I’ve been pretty good. Got into my dream med school and it’s, like, across the country from where I am now, so that’ll be good for me. Fresh start, you know?”

She gave him a slight smile, closing her textbook and stacking her planner on top of it.

“Oh, I was just picking this stuff up, so I can let you get back to studying,” he said, unsure, jabbing his thumb towards the door.

“No, no, I was closing it so I can give you my full attention,” she explained, shaking her head. “Just getting some random stuff done. I’m fine.”

He relaxed a bit more at that, settling into his seat like he was at home. “So… what are you working on?”

“I’m getting some last stuff done before I leave this weekend. Just some basic housekeeping. Ironing out details, you know,” she nodded, fiddling with the frayed hole on the hem of her hoodie.

He was trying to jump back in like everything was… normal. This wasn’t normal.

“Oh you’re leaving?” He seemed disappointed, a wrinkle forming between his brows where he pushed them together.

“Yeah, I’m using part of my break to fit in some last minute tours and interviews.”

“Oh… Well if you’re leaving soon, do you wanna do dinner at my place tonight?” He asked. “I feel like we’d be more comfortable catching up there.”

A… date? After all these years? And he still knows literally nothing about me?

––––

She chewed her lip, trying to hold back a smile.

His pulse raced, wondering if she’d reject him. He should’ve thought it through before blurting out a question like that. He’d spoken to her for all of five minutes and he was already asking her to go back to his place.

“So… is this a date?”

The mischievous look on her face was contagious – just a hint of flirtatious teasing like the first time they met.

“Yeah, but only if you want it to be,” he answered, tossing the drink back again, the liquid warming his insides (his morning run was long, and the wind was biting).

“And if I don’t?” She adjusted her glasses again, the only sign of tension amidst her otherwise calm demeanor.

And if he hadn’t ran through the memories of that night over and over, fixating on every little detail he managed to retain, he might’ve not caught it.

Her nervousness was a comfort – It meant she still liked him enough to be on edge around him.

“Then we’re just two neighbors catching up while eating food,” he shrugged, popping another cake pop in his mouth.

He held the bag out to her. “Want one?”

She peered over into the bag, lashes gently brushing her under eyes. “Will you get mad if I take Rudolph?”

God, she was so fucking pretty. He couldn’t get over it. All these years and she only managed to get hotter.

“Why would that bother me?” He mumbled through his mouth full of cake.

“He’s supposed to be special, right? I just thought you’d want him,” she said, crossing her arms on the table and leaning in more.

He sat up, leaning an elbow on the table, tipping forward to close the gap between them – he plucked the cake pop from the bag by its stick, waving it in front of her face.

She didn’t retreat. The only reaction was the color rising to her cheeks, a hint of rouge beneath the spatter of light freckles on her face – the ones that no one could see unless they were this close.

“You’re special, too, y’know,” he said, pushing the limits even more, bringing it to her lips. “Take it.”

He was egging her on, testing whatever change she’d clearly been through – underneath the confidence lurked something sultry that he desperately wanted to bring out of her.

She leaned forward and lowered her mouth around the pop, sinking her teeth into the stick, her lips grazing the tips of Bryce’s fingers.

She pulled back, chewing through a smile. “Yum.”

His stomach flipped, but he kept his poker face even.

It was odd, having this girl in front of him that he’d thought about for years when he’d convinced himself it was a fluke or a dream or a little bit of both.

They both chewed in silence, eyes still firmly locked on each other.

There was so much he needed to say but it just wasn’t the right time.

“What time should I come over?” She asked after swallowing.

“When do you usually eat dinner?”

She rolled her eyes at him, still trying to hold back a smile even though she clearly found him mildly entertaining if not infuriating as hell (which was an attitude he thrived off of).

“I don’t care, Spence. Whenever you want.”

––––

Bryce tapped his foot, adjusting the napkins and cutlery for the hundredth time before pacing towards the monitor that showed him the front door’s security cam.

He should not have told her to come over whenever. The delivery guy was stuck in traffic, so his whole plan of pretending like he cooked was thwarted by the icy roads.

He checked the delivery app for the millionth time, the time remaining still stuck on “14 minutes”.

Was a button up with slacks too much for dinner? Christ, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been nervous before a date.

He wasn’t sure if it ever had happened before, because it didn’t happen.

He wasn’t afraid of shooting his shot with anyone. That cute guy at the gym? No hesitation. His bio lab partner sophomore year? Of course. The ex-girlfriend of the one fraternity brother he didn’t like? Yup. That one fraternity brother he really liked? Hell yeah.

There wasn’t a time that he he actually had to try to get someone to like him – his conquests weren’t really conquests. They’d always just kind of… fallen into his lap, for lack of a better phrase.

But he also couldn’t name a single person he’d “pined” for, whatever that meant. Spencer was the first girl that had slipped through his fingers – maybe this date would be closure. If she was down to fuck, maybe they’d get the weird three-year-long outstanding “what if?” question answered.

He filled the bucket with ice, neatly digging the champagne bottle’s base into it, even grabbing a rag to wipe the perspiration off the metal to buy some time.

A few more minutes passed. When he checked the app again, it’d changed to “13 minutes”, and Spencer was walking down his driveway.

Even on the grainy screen he could tell that whatever she had on was gonna drive him wild.

He strode towards the door, flinging it open to greet her.

“Hey, Spencer,” he grinned, opening his arms wide for a hug.

She matched his expression with a sweet smile of her own, slipping into his grip and molding herself against his body like she belonged there.

Fuck, she smelled delicious. Her hair, her lip gloss, her perfume – everything about her was delectable and made holding back all the more harder.

“Hey, Bryce,” she murmured, squeezing him. “It’s cold. Can we move inside?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Sorry about that,” he apologized, pulling back but keeping his palm on her lower back, shutting and locking the door behind him.

She walked into the main corridor, just kind of… observing. Taking everything in.

“Huh.”

“What do you mean, ‘huh’?” He asked, glancing down at her discreetly.

“It’s… nice. I can tell it’s your parents’ house.”

He chuckled, surprised. “Yeah, but what is that supposed to mean?”

“None of your personality is in this house. I figured it’d be brighter. Less marble, too,” she said, gesturing towards the decorations straight from a catalogue sprinkled throughout the house.

He couldn’t help that his parents insisted on flying out their personal interior designer to every house they owned. But it didn’t make it any less cringe worthy.

“No, you’re right,” he nodded, shrugging. “Can’t argue with that.”

He gently steered them towards the kitchen, his eyes flitting towards her as she scanned the house, a pleasant enough look on her face.

“What would you change about this house?” She asked, sliding onto one of the never-been-used barstools.

“Well, for one, I wouldn’t even have it in the first place,” he said, opening the cabinet next to the fridge, retrieving the champagne glasses.

“Really?”

“Really. If I had it my way, we would’ve never left Maui.”

She nodded, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Setting the glasses down in front of her, he stood on the other side of the counter, grabbing the bottle by its neck, unravelling the wrapping on the outside. “Hope this is alright. I just picked a bottle that looked expensive.”

“Expensive doesn’t mean better,” she said, eyes trained on the bottle, probably trying to read the label.

“You’re right, again. Two for two,” he joked, sliding the cork from the opening with a loud “pop”, the sound ricocheting off the walls and flooring.

After pouring it, he cocked his head her way, encouraging her to take the first sip.

She tipped the glass back, her nose scrunching after taking a deep swallow. “Mmmm. I would’ve settled for the shitty boxed wine I drank in college over this.”

He took a sip and shook his head, sticking his tongue out with a grimace. “Yeah, this tastes like ass.”

She snorted, covering her mouth as she laughed, making a breathy choking sound that he found oddly endearing.

“To answer your question, I’d probably paint the walls yellow. Hang up my grandpa’s old surfboard my dad passed down to me, if I can even find it. Maybe some movie posters,” he continued, gesturing towards the deadspace on the walls in the kitchen.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I pictured, too,” she hummed, shivering after downing the rest of the glass.

“You don’t have to drink anymore. We agreed it tastes like shit,” he walked over to the cabinet, browsing the bottles, nearly empty. “I only have… a little bit of tequila and some rum.”

“I’ll take a rum and coke then,” she smiled gratefully, pushing the empty glass to the side.

While making the drinks, he checked his phone, hoping that the driver was close by. No luck – the time hadn’t shifted.

“So… when’s the delivery guy getting here?”

He could sense her behind him. When he turned to offer her a glass, he realized just how close she was.

She accepted the glass, craning her neck around him to look at his phone’s screen. “I knew it.”

“What? What’d you know?” He asked, unable to look anywhere but her plush lips, curved upwards into a grin.

She was life-ruiningly pretty. It was like God himself scanned Bryce’s brain and 3D copied his fantasies into the form of Spencer Matsuzaki, who was quite literally the girl of his dreams.

“I knew you weren’t a cooking type. I figured you were gonna get takeout, and I was right,” she pointed at his screen, the delivery app still open.

“Yeah, I was gonna try to impress you and pretend that I’d cooked everything but clearly that didn’t pan out,” he chuckled, peering down at her.

“That’s the oldest trick in the book, Bryce. I would’ve easily clocked that,” she shook her head, taking a quick sip of her drink, still standing close enough to him that he could feel her breath on him each time she laughed.

Before he dropped everything and propositioned her right there to take it to the living room, she turned on her heel and walked back towards her stool.

They sipped their drinks in silence, an air of awkwardness settling into the atmosphere – for the first time in, well, years they were completely and utterly alone.

She chewed her lip, swiping her thumb across the perspiration on the cup. “So…”

“So?”

“I feel like we have a lot of ground to cover.”

He nodded. “I guess the question now is ‘where do we start?’”

“We could just ask each other stuff and see how that goes.”

“I’ll go first – are you still single?”

A laugh ripped from her chest, bounding off the walls and floor, filling up the space with sound (one that was quickly becoming his favorite).

“That’s the first thing you ask me? After all these years?” She asked incredulously, shaking her head in awe.

He grinned. “Sounds like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Avoiding the question? Or you’re single?” He teased.

“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, no.”

“Oh, at the moment. Seems like I’ve got some competition.”

Laughing, she tipped her head back to take a deep gulp. He watched as she did, a bit envious of the glass wrapped between her fingers and the rim caught between her lips.

She was a bit more timid when she drank the hot chocolate he offered her years before, cupping it with both hands and taking soft sips, smiling shyly, like being offered a drink on a date was something she should be grateful for.

The way she held herself was different. Before, it was like she was apologetic for taking up too much space, but this version of Spencer took the world by storm – like when she walked into the room, she claimed the space as her own before anyone else could tell her differently.

Whatever miniscule reservations he had about sleeping with her were out the window before she set her glass back down.

“I’m assuming you don’t have anyone at home waiting for you if you asked me that first,” she said, bluntly, chewing on a piece of ice.

“What makes you say that?” “Well you’re obviously gauging whether or not you want to fuck me tonight so I might as well be as upfront as you,” she shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

“Is that so?” He quirked a brow at her. “Would you count frequent hookups?”

“Nope. I’ve got those, too, but I don’t count ‘em.”

“So you turned out to be pretty wild, huh?”

She laughed. “I hope you realize how weird you sound. I’m not who I was at 18. Shit, and you barely even knew me then!”

He held his hands up in protest. “My bad.”

She tapped her nails on the counter, looking a bit conflicted. “No, it’s okay. Just a bit of a sensitive topic, I guess.”

“Parents, huh?”

“Yep. Don’t quite approve of who I am, even though I’m literally going to be studying to be a doctor,” she rolled her eyes. “I did get pretty wild, though. I mean, I had to get it out of my system before med school, you know?”

He shrugged. “Totally understandable.”

“Speaking of, why aren’t yours here? I figured I was going to accidentally run into them or something,” she mused, crunching on another ice cube.

He tried hiding his reaction, but he couldn’t help the way he tensed up at the mere mention of them. The thought of her bringing them up crossed his mind before, so thankfully he was able to keep it moving.

“Oh, they moved back to Hawaii a while ago. Been waiting to put this house on the market but it just didn’t seem like the right time.”

“So why aren’t you with them for the holidays?”

He stiffened, racking his brain for a believable lie. There was no fucking way he was baring his soul to the girl that just stepped back into his life.

She was the last good memory he had before everything went to shit, so he couldn’t break the illusion. Spencer was too good for this – maybe too good for him.

Court baggage was a heavy load to bear. Criminal baggage was even heavier. Lying to save face was the only way he could protect them both.

“Oh, it was just cheaper for me to stay here than fly back to Hawaii.”

She nodded, seemingly in agreeance, swirling the last bit of ice around her glass before tipping it back again. “S’good you get a little peace and quiet between semesters.”

“You have no idea,” he breathed, practically sighing in relief, thankful the crisis was averted.

“I do have a question, though,” she said, setting the glass down and pushing it away from her. “Why did you leave your number on my window sill?”

He leaned over the counter, bracing his arms against it. “So you did see it.”

“You’re lucky I found it! You could not have chosen a worse place to put it.”

“Well, you used to always walk out on your balcony so I thought it’d be safe.”

She pursed her lips, seemingly holding back a smile. “You remember that?”

“Yeah, of course. Why didn’t you, you know, use the number, though?” He asked, teasing.

Her mouth popped open, looking almost offended by his words. “Oh my god, you think if I had your number we still wouldn’t have talked for three years?”

“When you put it that way, I guess it doesn’t make sense,” he laughed, taking a swig of his drink.

“No, but I can’t get over that – you thought this entire time that I just didn’t try to contact you? Bryce, you offered to kiss me before literally disappearing into the night – you thought I wouldn’t have at least, you know, tried following up on that?” Spencer was giggling in between her words, barely able to get it out of her system.

“Yeah, well, you think I didn’t want to follow up on the kiss either? I’m the one who offered!”

They were cutting up, both leaning over the counter, folded over in laughter. They’d shifted closer as they got more comfortable with each other, their arms nearly grazing each others’ over the cold granite.

God, she was so beautiful. Everything he felt when he met her three years ago was pretty much amplified. He had it bad for her.

When she noticed how close they were, her eyes flitted to his lips, tongue darting out to wet her own.

“You wanna cash in on that now? I heard that ‘Bryce Lahela Kiss Coupons’ never expire,” he said, voice low, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb over her chin.

“Bryce…” she said, closing her eyes, before leaning back to put some distance between them. “We have to lay some ground rules first.”

He sighed, standing up at his full height. “Okay, shoot.”

“I’m not trying to go all analytical on you, but we have to get this out of the way first. Tell me where your top three med schools are.”

A snort escaped him before he could stop himself. “What, do you only fuck guys that go to –”

“– And girls –”

“And girls – that go to John Hopkins?” He asked, teasing. “Me, too, by the way.”

She shook her head, ignoring his joke. “Nope. Just tell me.”

“Well, I’m looking at California, New York, and Chicago. What about you?”

“Ohio, Virginia, and Washington.”

The pieces fell into place for him. “Damn, you were playing chess and I was playing checkers, huh?”

She laughed. “No, no, I was just curious. I didn’t think we’d get as far as relationship talk, but I figured after everything we’d been through, we might as well discuss it, you know?”

“So that means this is a one-and-done type deal.”

“I guess so,” she said, scratching at her neck. “I’ve made out with plenty of people before and forgotten it, so if you want to just see how we feel, I’m down.”

“Oh, I think you’ll remember this for a while,” he said, stretching across the counter to gently cup her face in both hands, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

Their first kiss was unlike no other. What’d started out as an offhanded joke to relieve three years worth of tension quickly morphed into desperate grabbing of clothes, heavy pants, and even heavier tension crackling like a fire between them.

She fisted his collar, dragging him to her over the counter, kneeling on her bar stool and pushing herself closer and closer to him.

Bryce had his share of sloppy bar makeouts, passionate kisses amidst sex – even sweet domestic kisses during mundane tasks. But this kiss? Somehow it was a bit of everything rolled into one.

They parted pretty abruptly when he elbowed her empty champagne glass and it clattered against the counter.

“Shit,” he cursed, pulling back just a hair to check the damage.

When he turned back, she was still holding him, staring at him, a look on her face that he hadn’t seen before.

“That was…” her lids fluttered, tongue darting out to lick her lips – like she was savoring his taste.

“Really good.”

She nodded. “Insanely good.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Is it what you were dreaming of?” He teased, but there was a hint of sincerity to it.

She nodded again, her grip tightening on his collar. “I’m a little scared at how much I enjoyed it.”

“Scared? Why?” He murmured, stroking his thumb against her cheek in comfort.

“Well… this can’t happen,” she gestured between them.

“It doesn’t have to happen. We can pretend like the kiss never did, just like you said. I don’t mind,” he shrugged.

“But… what if I want it to?”

He couldn’t conceal the smirk tugging at his lips. “You wanna take this upstairs?”

She tried holding back a smile. “Maybe.”

“Well, you can think about it over dinner, whenever that gets here.”

The driver took about twenty minutes, and eating took them twenty more. Small talk was managed, jokes were cracked, but there was an unmistakable feeling in the air that both of them could sense.

Bryce was no stranger to sexual tension. Hell, he thrived on it.

Making a cute girl blush? Exhilarating. Getting a guy at the bar fund his hangover? Incredible. Those few minutes between knowing you’re going to fuck someone and actually fucking them? Couldn’t get enough.

The minute their plates were cleared, she took his hand and led him upstairs, throwing glances back at him like if she let go for a second he’d disappear.

As much as he just wanted to fool around, he couldn’t help but pocket the small details for later, just in case he decided it was alright to get emotionally invested. Despite feeling like he had a hold on the situation, he definitely didn’t.

He was a bit delusional in thinking he wasn’t already falling for her the way she was for him.

––––

[part 1.5 coming soon]

____

They’d been curled up in bed for nearly an hour and a half, just talking, every once in a while pulling the other in for another kiss that led to roaming hands.

In another life, if they’d both lived in that town and grew up there, there was no doubt they’d be best friends. High school sweethearts, even.

But she knew that whatever daydreams she’d conjured up could never be reality.

This was a one-time thing. They both knew that.

After a lull in conversation she slipped out of bed, gathering her clothes and tossing them onto the bed.

“You leaving?” He asked, sitting up.

“Uh, yeah. I think I need to get going. I’ve still got a curfew,” she shrugged, making a hand motion like she was pulling the trigger.

“Still have one? Damn, that sucks. Am I gonna get to see you tomorrow?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

He remembered her curfew?

She snapped her bra back in place, avoiding his eye as she slid on her straps. “I, um, have to leave.”

“I thought you were staying through the weekend?” He sounded taken aback, like he thought he had more time.

She slipped her underwear and pants on fast. “I have a long drive ahead of me and I kinda wanted a night to breathe before I tour and interview, you know?”

He was silent. She threw her sweater on before daring a glance at him. His eyes were trained on the mattress, refusing to look at her.

“Bryce,” she called, but he shook his head.

She sat on the mattress, tipping his chin up with her finger. “What’s wrong?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, sighing. “It’s stupid.”

“C’mon, it’s not stupid. Tell me.”

“I’m kinda regretting this being a one-time thing.”

She raked his hair back, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I am, too.”

He met her eyes again, brows furrowed. “You are?”

She nodded. “I like you. A lot.”

“So what’s stopping us? We can make it work if we try –”

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, looking at the ground. “I don’t know if we can.”

“Why not?”

“The distance, first of all. And we’re going to be in different programs in different states, so there’s no way we can fully commit to school and our future if we’re trying to start a relationship and maintain it –”

“Spencer, you think I’m gonna give up that easily after all this time? I just got you back,” he said, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.

“This isn’t giving up, Bryce… this is… practical. Rational,” she added, leaning into his touch. “The right thing to do.”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“I know, but… I think it’s easier to move on now rather than later when we’re in too deep,” she gulped, trying to soothe the lump forming in her throat.

She knew this wasn’t gonna be easy, but she figured it’d be easier than falling for him over phone calls and video chats and sweet good morning texts and the inevitable breakup that came after.

“You sure we’re not already in it?” He asked, underneath his breath, gaze flitting to her lips.

She rolled her lips, shaking her head, trying to mask her wobbling chin.

“If you don’t want to get hurt, I get it, but I need you to know that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you,” he said, cupping her cheeks with both hands. “And – and I never thought I’d see you again, so I don’t want to let you go without at least, you know, trying to fight for you.”

He brought her in for a deep kiss, seemingly trying to plead his case with his touch.

“Maybe we should just go our separate ways and pretend tonight didn’t happen. It might be less difficult,” she murmured after he pulled away.

“None of this will be easy for us, Spence,” he pressed their foreheads together, both of them closing their eyes.

“Honestly, I want nothing more than to be with you. I want you so badly, but I’ve got so many commitments and my career and I can’t just throw my responsibilities out the window, because I know I would – that’s what scares me,” she whispered, voice cracking.

“You’re right. I hate that you’re right.”

––––

When she slipped back into her room after saying a quick goodnight to her parents, she curled up in her bed and cried.

She didn’t want to cry – it was like her body wouldn’t let her hold it in any longer. The sobs wracked her body as if personified guilt had grabbed her by the shoulders, dug its fingers into her skin, and shook her the tears from her.

Hours later, she woke up in the middle of the night, face still puffy and irritated. As she stood up to go throw cool water on her face, she noticed something taped to her window.

His number and socials were listed in a neat bulleted list, and below it, he’d scrawled a simple note:

“If we meet again.”

––––

#playchoices #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc #my fic #jade writes choices fics

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hrmdream · 3 years

Link

Ho Ho Ho! MERRY PITCHMAS @beca-mitchell !!! ‘Tis be your damn Secret Santa here, and I have presents for one of the naughtiest nicest on Santa’s list. That’s right. I said presents!!! I tried my best to create a supernatural world for you and got carried away. There is a lot I wanted to pack in, so this is a two-parter. If You Lead, I Will Follow Rating: M (Language) Summary: Think supernaturals kinda sorta AND THEN, because I could not give you just half of a present and I know you like your pain... I tried my hand at some light angst with a happy ending. I hope you enjoy and have a happy holiday :D Below the cut: Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop Rating: G Word Count: 1201 Summary: Beca can’t stop the bitterness that comes from missing someone

A heavy sigh escapes through Beca’s parted lips. She presses her back against her front door and slides her tongue over her teeth and sucks. It is a lame attempt to rid herself of the unwanted, invasive taste seeping over her tongue and permeating into the smallest recesses of her mouth.

For being just a feeling, bitterness was making its presence known throughout all her senses. Sour on her tongue. Pungent in her nose. Pressure in her mind. Beca clenches her fists and hangs her head low. Flurries of snow from the snowfall coating the streets of New York City fall from her head and land at her feet.

Beca breathes in slowly. Her chest steadily rises and falls as she watches the snow melt against the hardwood floors of her apartment.

It has been a while since Beca’s bitter monster last reared its ugly head. Beca would think after such time it would have packed up and moved on to a different home, but apparently she provides it a healthy environment to thrive. Considering its neighbors are inconsolable regret and haunting self-loathing, Beca guesses perpetual bitterness fits in just fine.

The images of the night Beca is just returning from flash in her mind. Comforting blue eyes. Easy conversation. Charming and bubbly laughter.

Beca sighs.

Anyone else would have considered the night she was returning from a good night. No - not simply ‘good’. More likely great. See, Beca was returning home from a date. A date in which she had received a goodnight kiss and a promise for future plans as a form of farewell.

But the thing is, Beca is not just anyone. And the cause for the bitter ache in her chest is because there is a hole in her heart no one, no matter how meticulously dressed, kind and beautiful, seems to be able to fill.

So no, Beca does not find giddiness in the kiss. And no, she does not consider the night a success.

Beca knows it is unfair. Not just to her date who was trying, truly trying, with all of her laughter, eye-catching smiles, gentle touches and bright and optimistic attitude, but to Beca herself.

Beca recalls the bitter pain that shot through to her gut when her date had reached out to hold her hand. The whole action was timid, but confident, and Beca found it a little bit endearing, so Beca let their fingers lock together. She let the fantasy of naturally fitting continue. But in her heart and mind, Beca was imagining she was holding the hand of another.

Beca’s will to believe was so strong, she gripped the hand in hers. And when small circles were rubbed against the back of her hand, she relished in the warmth that travelled up her arm with it, thinking back on gentle coaxes that always came when Beca needed them most.

Beca hates herself for it - the disservice to both her and her date. Beca has no idea if the other woman’s hands are in fact soft. She only knows that they are warm. And Beca knows the momentary bliss in her daydream has obviously fogged her date’s reality. It’s why she was given a good night kiss. At least there Beca did not let herself get lost.

Beca sighs again.

She is not sure how long she has been standing against her front door, but the realization brings with it weird company. The silence of her apartment grows around her in an ironic deafening kind of way - pounding against her eardrums and overpowering the thudding of her heart.

Overwhelmed, Beca closes her eyes only to be jolted back to alertness from the ghost of a laugh. From the corner of her eye, Beca swears she catches a blur of red. When she whips her head, she finds nothing. Just her apartment. Exactly as it is. Though vastly different from how it was.

There are no more odds and ends. No collection of random items picked up from street markets, bargain bins and thrift stores and stuffed into spaces where ‘if they fits, they sits’. Only neat, tidy collections of things in places where they belong. Quite boring if Beca lets herself think about it too much. Which she does.

As her mind floods with memories, Beca’s chest quickly constricts. She streams hot air through her nose and shakes her head, telling herself to come to. To get it together. She vowed to herself before her date to stop letting herself be reminded everywhere, anytime, doing anything (even if she failed already tonight, that does not mean she stops trying).

It has been one month, twenty-two days and fifteen hours. That is one month, twenty-two days and fifteen hours filled with moments Beca has let herself crumble at the slightest hint of another time.

But no more.

No more will Beca’s heart ache.

No more will Beca forget to breathe.

No more will Beca, with her windows down, music drowning, and heartbreak on her mind feel the hole left behind.

“Becs, I don’t think this is working out.”

Beca fights back the tears forming in her eyes. Right. No more of that either.

Her head nods with strong conviction. New resolve in her heart, Beca brushes herself off and straightens up. In the spirit of getting it together, Beca is taking off her shoes to prepare to unwind from the night when she realizes her phone is buzzing in her jacket pocket.

Her brow furrows when she checks the clock on the wall.

At one in the morning, Beca thinks the only calls being made should be urgent ones. She pulls her phone from her pocket and nearly drops it when her heart skips a beat. Staring down at the phone screen, she almost forgets to breathe.

Yet, in all of the state of freeze, Beca feels more aware than she has in days (okay, months-ish. You know exactly how many).

Her incoming call is reading “Chloe Beale”.

Beca has a momentary panic of wondering what she should do, whether it is real, should she pick up, and how she should answer. All of that comes to a halt when a stronger voice in her mind tells her to pick up the damn call.

So she does.

“Hello?” Beca wonders if her uncertainty, shaking fear, and trembling resolve can be heard. The continued silence also makes her wonder what is happening, what she should do, and if anyone is even on the other line.

“Hi. I miss you.”

Pang. Ache.

“Becs, I’m sorry. I miss you. I love you.”

Boom. Breathe.

“Becs? Are you- are you there?”

“Yes. Yeah. I’m here, Chlo.”

“Can I - Can I come over?”

“Please. Come over.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

Beca stares and blinks down at the phone in her hand. She looks around, forgetting what she was in the middle of doing before the call. What she does know is that tingles are rupturing goosebumps across her skin from her fingers all the way down to her toes. Every nerve in her body is in a jumble.

She feels giddy.

She feels alive.

Happy Holidays to her.

#bechloe fic #merry pitchmas 2020 #bechloe #beca-mitchell #my writing

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for Dating Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Headcanons for dating Bucky Barnes?”

you met bucky in 2014

at the smithsonian museum, actually

you stood beside him while reading the plaques of information

“so this is how it all started?”

*confused and disoriented bucky* “huh?”

“superheroes. well, ‘enhanced individuals,’ i guess. but each of the commandos were heroes on their own...”

that comment made bucky smile, he needed to hear that

you two wandered around the exhibit for a while, crossing paths a few more times

as you left, he opened the door for you and you got a peek of his face in brighter light, it looked familiar

“no way”

“i hope you’re not scared...”

“you don’t seem that threatening to me”

oddly enough, the two of you clicked

bucky was on the run, he told you at up front

but he stuck around for a few days, being so honest you would have thought he was on his death bed

his stories, at least the ones he remembered, they were upsetting to the both of you, but you could tell that wasnt him anymore

there wasn’t much for you in washington, anyways

so you ran with him, something he didn’t understand at first

“what do you see in me?”

“a man who deserves another chance”

you always knew how to cheer him up

even on the most challenging days

you and bucky travelled the world before finding a place bucky was comfortable living in

but your journey was a learning experience

bucky grew to trust you with every passing day

there were a handful of motel stays, some worse than others

“oh, god, there’s a rat in the shower!”

“i’ll handle it”

“‘handle it????????’”

you didn’t want to know anymore

you just hid underneath your pillow and waited to be able to shower

bucky was always the big spoon

he just wanted to keep you safe

that worried him the most

he thought he’d get you into some kind of mess

you cant count the amout of times he’d apologize and try to tell you that you shouldn’t be with him

and every time, you’d set your hands on his face, tracing his stubble with your thumbs and say:

“i chose to be with you, and i’m choosing to stay with you”

his metal arm was very intriguing to you

at first, you were worried he was sensitive about it, but one day he was shirtless on the bed and turned to you

“are you scared of me?”

“why would i be scared of you?”

“...does my arm make you uncomfortable?”

“uh, no. not at all...i just didn’t know if you would be upset about talking about it”

he just shook his head with his eyebrows raised high, guess it wasn’t off limits like you thought

you didn’t like the design, though

“i should paint over that star”

“go for it”

you also helped him clean it every once in a while

bucky runs his fingers through your hair and scratches you head with his real arm, you love it

and he loves how relaxed you get

in fact, you guys fell in love, it was an amazing feeling for both of you

you had to say it first

“i love you, bucky”

he picked you up and gave you a kiss afterwards

“god, i love you, too”

you’ve done his hair up a few times, it’s amusing

bucky gives you long kisses on the lips and tons of forehead/hand/shoulder kisses

and bucky’s not always serious, he’s has a sweet side that you bring out in him

he teases you a bit

he’s TALL and he plays keepaway like a big meanie

>:( “bUcKy!!!!”

“i’ll hand it over if you give me a kiss”

you guys moved to romania together in that cozy little apartment

and things were good for you guys

you guys worked, went to the market, every once in a while you had dates...you were really happy

he bought some cookbooks and surprised you with dinner after a long day at work

“i hope you like it, it was a nightmare to make”

“psssh, it smells great, i bet i’ll love it”

cuddling is his favorite

he needs affection

sm of it

but he doesn’t ask for it

*one exception, he pulls you onto his lap

you guys share a shitty, creaky mattress that drives you crazy

like sitting on it and it goes *squuuueaaak*

and, obviously, given the circumstances, bucky trained you in self defense. he wanted to make sure you could save yourself if he wasn’t there for you

the two of you led a simple little life for a while

until you walked into your apartment and saw the silhouette of a large man that was not your boyfriend

you dropped everything as he came out of the shadow

“i’m sorry to startle you, you must be bucky’s s/o. i’m steve rogers, bucky’s in trouble”

your heart was racing

you called bucky but he wouldn’t answer you

but he got home and found you packing each of your things

“there’s no time, y/n, we have to go”

you weren’t like them, you couldn’t fight armed soldiers or jump out of windows or run with cars

so one of captain america’s teammates picked you up, falcon

you all ended up getting apprehended anyways

you were questioned for a brief amount of time, but as soon as the power went out you were able to run

until you saw the winter soldier, that wasn’t bucky

steve made sure you kept away, he knew that if bucky hurt you he would never forgive himself

but again, sam got you out of there while steve got bucky

and once bucky snapped out of it, he remembered his entire past, you’d be learning about a whole new side after this

listen, bucky was terrified during this

if it was just him, he would have a clear mind and go on, but now you were all fugitives and he was mad that he dragged you into this

“please stop blaming yourself, bucky. you know that this is still my choice to stand by your side”

“i know, i just dont want to lose you”

“then stop trying to push me away, i need you and you need me”

steve pulled you aside when he got the chance to tell you:

“im glad he found you, thank you for staying by his side”

you sat in the back of the volkswagen with bucky, clutching onto his hand

“it’s gonna be okay, steve told me you can trust sharon”

yes, you had to stay with sharon during this, she was breaking a lot of rules

“so, did you know he was the winter soldier when you met him?”

“yeah, but he was a good man, too. i focused on that”

“that’s good, that’s really good”

after the “civil war,” you were granted a safe haven in wakanda with bucky, so you and bucky moved there

it was a lot more peaceful than the past few years

bucky told you all about his childhood up until his “death”

he had gotten apart of himself back, it was another part of him to fall in love with

you got to dance with him to some of his favorite songs, it made you feel wonderful

and you got some more training time in wakanda, you never knew when you’d need to kick some ass

and then the day came when the two of you had to fight for your lives and HOLY shit he was losing his mind but he couldn’t stop you from fighting in this one

“y/n, are you sure you want to do this?”

“absolutely. i love you, you big lug. don’t forget it”

“i love you, too. i’ll be out there if you need me”

cap kept an eye on you

but you saved a few people’s asses

before you looked into the eyes of thanos

when he snapped, you watched bucky fade away

and you fell to your knees

and cried, for days you cried

steve and you were heartbroken, it had been 4 years with bucky, now you were alone

you were determined to get him back

but it seemed like there was no chance

so you gave up, stayed at the avengers compound instead, trained like hell with black widow and anyone else who’d have you

five years went by and you were a badass

and you got the second chance you needed, the avengers reunited

“y/n, are you up for this?”

“i’d do anything to get him back”

and after hard work and tragedy, you brought him back

you all did

you were reunited with him and he was surprised to see you kicking ass on the battlefield

“y/n? is that you?”

“bucky! oh, my god. i’ve been waiting five years for this”

he gave you a huge hug and studied your hardened face, there was much to catch up on

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there”

“it wasn’t your fault”

you and your boyfriend kicked alien ass for all you had left, this was your last chance to make it right, all or nothing

you were relieved once it was all over

you actually watched the sunset with bucky while you patched up your wounds

“i’m glad you’re okay, y/n. i don’t know what i’d do without you”

“bucky...i was lost without you these past few years...i just can’t believe i’m here with you again”

“well, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and the two of you took in your gift of a well-deserved peaceful moment

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlisbeth // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee // @emygirl

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter solider x reader #james barnes imagine #james barnes x reader #james barnes #white wolf imagine #white wolf x reader #white wolf #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

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masjestickingdom · 4 years

Text

My Little Secret (Part 2)

Pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: So you made a promise to yourself that you would get over your feelings for your sister’s husband. Except you can’t.

Note: This is part 2 of My Little Secret! If you haven’t read the first part, please check it out here. And if anyone wants to drop anything in the suggestion box, please do so. I’m open to any ideas, seriously, so don’t feel embarrassed--you can send it anonymously.

____________________________________________________________________________

Nothing about that night felt right. Your dress was too tight. The curling iron was nowhere to be found. Half of the jewelry you owned were tangled. Worst of all, you were sweating bullets from walking back and forth from your room to your small office, rapping to your boss, who was also your friend, on the phone.

“What? I was never given that file,” you would repeat when your friend asked you to look something up.

It was only half past seven and all you wanted to do was to go back in time and take back your statement, “I’ll go.” It was stupid of you to agree to go to some charity event to meet a guy when you strongly despised social settings, which was odd because your work required you to socialize all the time.

With one of the most important business meetings ahead of you in a week’s time, Jia was freaking out over how disorganized everything was.

“Jesse,” she whined, calling out your name for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. “I swear I gave you the file.”

“Maybe I left it at the office,” you said, rushing to slip on your heels. “I’ll be there as soon as the fundraising event is over.”

Once you made it out of the building, the cold breeze of the dark autumn night ran past you, and you instantly regretted not bringing out with you a light coat. You hissed under your breath as you made your way over to your car, which you parked across the street for some reason you couldn’t recall.

“I just had to park it at the farthest corner,” you murmured while your friend kept babbling on about some random dude on the street (and sometimes you wondered how Jia got the position of marketing manager with her tendency to chatter whenever she was anxious). “Hey, I need to get going, so call me when you need something else, okay?�� you told your buzzing friend, hoping to free your mind of work for the next couple of hours.

The ride to your sister’s house was peaceful. The street lamps and office lights lit up the navy night sky and, subsequently, your mood. Every passing street had people strolling on the sidewalks, some with families, others with friends, and some alone. With your window rolled down, you listened to the sound of the wind and the delightful screams of children running around. But your peace ended quickly: before you knew it, you were standing in front of an all-too-familiar brown door, across the mowed lawn, with your fingers drumming lightly against your bare thighs.

“Please get me through this night” you whispered to an invisible force before the door flew open with a friendly face.

“Jesse!” your sister excitedly greeted, immediately welcoming you with a warm hug.

“Hi, Janet,” you said, trying to return her enthusiasm. “How’s the stomach pain?”

In a hushed tone, she replied, “Honestly, I’m just using that as an excuse not to call our nanny. I’ve got the feeling that she has her eyes on Jaehyun.”

“Oh, really?” you reacted weakly as you pulled away from her embrace. “That’s a shame.”

That did not at all throw your mind into chaos. Not at all. Your sister quickly changed the subject as she scanned you from head to toe and wiggled her eyebrows. “Well someone cleaned up nicely.”

You simply shrugged, letting yourself in the house. Everything was in the same place, still as boring as ever. The only new additions were the two humans who were approaching you with wide smiles.

“Jesse, long time no see,” Mark and Doyoung said with wide arms, to which you decided to hug both of them simultaneously.

The two black-haired beauties had known you since they moved in, which wasn’t a long time ago, but the three of you clicked. You loved music and had always fantasized about becoming a music producer when you were younger. Mark and Doyoung were living the dream, and you couldn’t wait for big things to happen for them.

While you were catching up with them, your nephew Jaehyung made his appearance out of the hallway with his adorable hands partially wrapped around his father’s, the man you secretly loved.

“Auntie!” your nephew shouted, willingly letting go of his father’s hand as he dashed towards you at full speed.

By instinct, you bent down to receive the speeding little boy who almost toppled you over.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that he loves her more than he loves us,” Mark said to Doyoung in a not-so-quiet manner.

“Well, I’m a blood relative,” you told your same-aged friend, lifting Jaehyung up from his feet and letting him join you and your sight of the world at your freakish height. “Isn’t that right, LJ?”

“Auntie is always right,” your nephew sweetly responded, to which Mark and Doyoung dramatically gasped.

“I don’t mean to break you two apart,” your crush spoke, “But we have to get going if we don’t want to be late.”

Thankfully, you were able to shoot a calm smile at Jaehyun, greeting him very briefly before handing the sweet little boy in your arms to his mother, all without making a fool of yourself. Jaehyun was absolutely gorgeous. With his slick-backed hair and dark blue suit that complemented his eyes, you could just run your fingers along his beautifully placed--

No, you couldn’t. You had to physically refrain yourself from acting out your fantasies by forcefully turning your back to him, and you lowly hummed to a pop song, hoping your amoral thoughts would wash away. However, the fact that the other two called the back seats, leaving you at the shotgun with Jaehyun by your side, forced you to swallow the rising guilt inching near your throat. To your luck, Jia had called you and whisked you into the world of your comfort zone, which was funnily what you were sick of: work.

...

“There is no way you actually got him to get back with his ex.”

You were just about to text back your secretary regarding something Jia requested to have when Mark pulled out the vacant seat next to you and said what he said.

“You actually got Jungwoo to leave the event to talk to her,” the dumbfounded boy said, shaking his head in disbelief.

That’s right. You somehow managed to encourage Jungwoo, the guy your sister and Jaehyun set you up with, to get back together with his ex-girlfriend. There was nothing wrong with Jungwoo; in fact, he was the perfect gentleman you would have dreamed of having in your younger years. He was stunning--physically, facially, and personality-wise. He was funny and considerate. He had a soft, melodious voice that you swore you heard on the radio. He even shared your weird preference of music. But there was one thing: he was the perfect gentleman, except he wasn’t Jaehyun. The amazing skills you had to convince someone, someone as fine as Jungwoo, to leave you for someone else astonished Mark.

“You must be a beast when you negotiate,” he murmured while you typed away on your phone.

“Believe me, I had no intentions of shooing him away,” you told him. “He just mentioned that he got out of a long-term relationship, so I asked him a few questions. I swear that’s all I did.”

Your same-aged friend snorted. “Yeah, yeah.” When you continued to text your secretary, he added, “You should really get off your phone and interact with others.”

You simply hummed and Mark, in response, swiftly snatched your phone and tucked it away, far from your tech-deprived hands.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you questioned your smirking friend, your eyebrows deeply furrowed.

“Getting you to mingle.”

“You’re gonna get me fired,” you huffed frustratedly.

“Mark almost got me fired,” you heard your other mischievous friend say. “It was one of the worst days of my life.”

“I should get ready for that anytime soon then,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Get ready for what?” another familiar voice spoke.

The apple of your eye joined the table, sitting across your seat. Suddenly, the table seemed longer than it was, stretching for miles and miles. You quietly let out a sigh and decided to look around your surroundings, eyes gliding over the mass of people conversing. In the midst of your scanning process, Doyoung and Mark abandoned their seats to get more drinks. Without you noticing, Jaehyun managed to scoot down to you, stealing Mark’s seat.

“Is there anyone here who catches your eye?”

Startled at the proximity of his voice and suddenly uncomfortable, you began tapping your feet to the rhythm of the background chatter. You didn’t dare look at him in the eye; you didn’t want to face his genuine curiosity--it would destroy you. Instead, you picked up your glass of wine ever so slightly, swirled it around, and answered with a plain “no”.

“I’m sorry that you and Jungwoo didn’t work out,” Jaehyun said with pity filling his voice.

“Well,” you began in an effort to keep the conversation rolling instead of childishly letting your emo-side take over, “I’m 30, and I seem to be wedded to my work. I’ll be alright.”

“Work does seem to like you a lot,” the beautiful man joked. “But you don’t seem to hate it.”

You offered a small smile. “I’m over it with people constantly calling me, but, yeah, I don’t hate it.”

When a moment of silence passed, you deemed it fitting to finally take a sip from your drink. But it was then when Jaehyun thought it was appropriate to say, “Janet seems to think that you’re a work-a-holic.” Now that was a label you had never thought applied to you. A work-a-holic? You? Impossible. What was wrong with simply liking to bow down to fear?

“I guess I need to fill up that loneliness,” you said lightly, setting your glass down. “Gotta have something, you know?”

Jaehyun dismissed your half-hearted comment. “You do know that she’s concerned out of love.”

You simply nodded and added, “Gotta love her too,” earning you a knowing look. “Okay, being my brother-in-law doesn’t mean you get to scold me too.”

A low feeling of heartache stirred in you as the conversation carried out. If this basic conversation about your life had you killing inside, how could you face three weeks worth of the same thing with him in two weeks time? Answer: you couldn’t.

“You know, if you keep working like that, you won’t have time to date.”

“I’ll just date my work then,” you replied sarcastically. “No one needs a human significant other to fulfill their satisfaction.”

For once, you looked at Jaehyun straight into his eyes. Those deep brown orbs of his spoke of genuine curiosity. You were right: they destroyed you. You forced yourself to avert your gaze back to the crowd before you.

“Come on, why don’t you give yourself a break?” he asked, leaning closer to you due to the sudden increase in background noise.

His natural honey-scented self was overpowered by the soft lavender-scented perfume you saw Jia spray on him earlier. It was the perfume you had gotten them for their four-year wedding anniversary, with the card, “Don’t worry: it’s gender-neutral.”

“Okay, I really don’t want my brother-in-law giving me advice about my love life,” you grimaced bitterly while trying not to breathe through your nose. “It’s weird.”

“Then take it as a friend.”

A new wave of the aromatic scent reached your nose as you sharply inhaled at the words that left Jaehyun’s lips. Friends? Friends? Since when were you and Jaehyun friends? Sure, you guys talked, but it was only because of his relationship with your sister. If you hadn’t met him through your sister, you were sure that you wouldn’t have had the guts to approach him yourself. Being friends with your brother-in-law was not something you had in mind, not especially since you were in love with him--not that you were planning on making a move on him. In fact, you wanted to do nothing with him.

But if you were friends, then wouldn’t that be the first step to getting over him?

Thankfully, a fellow co-worker of Jaehyun’s saved you from your train of thought, informing Jaehyun that their boss was looking for him. Before he could leave, though, Jaehyun patted your shoulders and sent you a comforting smile. You watched him go farther away from you as he interacted with his boss whose face instantly brightened. Smooth talker. Sociable. Look at me, sitting and moping as if there’s no tomorrow, you thought bitterly, tasting your wine for the first time.

And that was how you spent the night--sitting by yourself, worrying your phone would be broken from the number of calls Jia would have made, and watching the man you loved mingle with others like the loveable man he was. You were officially pathetic.

When the time came to leave, you were more than ready to sprint out the doors and claim freedom. Instead, your boss called and the cold wind slapped your face.

“Jia, I got the file,” you said to your friend, pushing your company’s tall glass doors open and waving the thick file in your hands even though she couldn’t see you. “Yeah, I told Sophie to leave it at my desk. Don’t worry, I’ve got things covered, alright?”

Before Jia could say anything else, you stepped onto the pavement when you heard someone call out your name. Once you saw who it was, you greeted that person with a bright smile. That man could liven up your day with his mere presence.

“Johnny!” you exclaimed, reciprocating the tall man’s lively tone. As you initiated a hug, you asked him, “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yeah, my boss pulled me back,” Johnny said grimly. “What’s with the file?”

“Oh, this? It’s just something Jia was freaking out about.”

Your considerate co-worker sent you a sympathetic smile. “Couldn’t get Sophie to get it to your place, huh?”

To that, you shrugged and said, “It’s not that bad. It’s just weird having people peeking into my house.”

Talking to Johnny was like meeting your long time friend. He was a breath of fresh air, asking you about things that had nothing to do with your love life. You admired the way he could easily change topics without seeming too sudden and appreciated his quick wit. Unfortunately, the fruitful conversation didn’t last long, and you two parted ways, Johnny taking a cab while you jogged across the street to reach Jaehyun’s black, family-friendly SUV.

“Hey, who was that?” Doyoung said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner you thought was silly.

“A coworker,” you replied emotionlessly, hoping Jia would stop texting you.

“He was checking you out,” Mark blatantly remarked.

You stopped typing momentarily and shot a glance at his direction. You meant to give him a menacing glare, but you were caught off guard by Jaehyun’s arm resting behind your headrest. You cleared your throat once you realized that he was backing up the car from the parking lot.

“He’s just a friendly person.”

Sick of Jia’s constant demands--you still loved her--and the horrible night full of pain, you rested your elbow comfortably against the window and rubbed your temple. You were not going to be able to sleep that night with that splitting headache, especially with Mark and Doyoung teasing you.

“Come on guys, give her some privacy with her love life,” Jaehyun defended you as he removed his arm from your seat. “I think she’s had enough tonight.”

You offered Jaehyun a weak but warm smile. “Thank you.”

He, in return, gave a cheeky one. “Hey, do you know the song that goes, ‘Jesse and Johnny sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-’”

“-I-N-G!�� - Doyoung Mark chimed enthusiastically.

Sinking into your seat, you grumbled, “I’m really babysitting four children next month, aren’t I?”

And the way back to the house of torture was filled with laughter and childish rhymes while all you wished to do was jump out of the car and end your misery. Oh, but you had no idea that the three weeks that awaited you made that night seem like nothing in comparison. Nothing you could do would prepare you for hell.

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livingmybestfakelife · 3 years

Text

There’s Something about Mary

gif by @ofyourshadow-blog

Today was Polly’s sixty fourth birthday, and even though she was getting more up there in age she was still sharp as a tack, still in a sound mind and still kept her position at Shelby Company Lt. even though she was well past retirement age. But she loved working and didn’t want to quit until she was too ill or dead.

Michael was more worried about her being by herself and begged her to move in with him, you wouldn’t mind of course and there was plenty of room in your home, plus you had two maids and hired an assistant to help her for when she’s out and about and to help her organize. Once she finally agreed to the arrangement, Michael had put her house on the market and made sure that the money was put aside in her account, and her new bedroom was his eldest daughters old room, which was the second biggest room in the house.

It didn’t take her too long to get settled in, and she loved the feeling of not being lonely. Her first night there she learned of the new nanny that her granddaughter had hired to help out with her son. Polly’s first great grand child was born just four months before she and adored his adorable chubby self, who in their right mind would want to mistreat a life so innocent? She’s had to deal with her fair share of evil and neglectful adults but when it came to her own blood it engraged her even more.

Mary was her name, and she was no older than Pol herself, the woman stood at only five foot two and had loud dominating footsteps that would click and clank against the shiny wooden floors. While the nanny had normally lived with yours and Michael’s daughter and your son in law, today she would be hanging around to keep watch of the kids, the party would be held in the dining room at your house, it’s not too big but not too small, which was the perfect size since Polly didn’t want a big grand celebration, mostly close family and friends.

While your daughter Francine and her husband Gregory had went to pick up the cake and decorations, Michael headed to the jewelry store to pick up a custom piece he had made for his mum, and you stuck around to help the maids set up the food and checked on the entertainment. All while Polly was to remain out of the way and relax, the house was big enough so she was able to find other ways to entertain herself as the hours passed by, one of the things she liked to do was listen to records, so she sat in the upstairs library and played one while reading and sipping her tea, in the middle of humming along she was able to pick up the sound of a baby crying, knowing instantly who it was she rushed out of the room and down the hall, before she could turn the corner she heard a rushed whisper before the voice picked up.

“It’s alright my boy, you just go back to sleep, and don’t let those little bastards disturb you anymore”

Mary walked up to the window and saw the other children playing, yelling and having a grand old time. A few of John’s kids, Karl and Billy were grown now and had some children of their own, and the nanny couldn’t have hated them more, it was little Phillip that she favored more out of all of them and she loathed having to watch extra.

“Fucking parasites, will be nothing else but criminals, scum of the earth”

She jumped and turned around once she heard the sound of a throat clear, her eyes went big once she saw the source of it, ever since she was introduced to the Shelby/Gray matriarch she instantly felt unwelcomed by her, it was like she was constantly studying her and attempting to read her mind, so she kept up a good enough facade as to not prove her suspicions, but today of all days she’s failed.

“Mrs. Gray-I-I thought you were listening to your music?”

“Well I was until I heard the cries of my little Phillip, so what was the reason of his discomfort? My great nieces and nephews? Or as you call them...parasites”

“Mrs. Gray I meant no harm I was only jok-“

“Put him down and leave right now, I’ll watch him until his parents get back, I’ll explain everything to them later”

“But Mrs-“

“Trust me sweetheart, you don’t want to be here to when Rebecca finds out what you said about her kids, Karl won’t hold her back either, so put him in his crib and leave while you still have your hair still attached to your scalp and teeth still in your mouth”

“Yes ma’am”

After putting Phil down she gathers her coat, hat and purse, doing her best to avoid Polly’s eye contact. The whole time little Phil whined in protest of no longer being held, she took over Mary’s previous job and held him in her warm arms.

“Madam, I’m very sorry for my poor choice in words, I-“

“Just leave while you still have no limp in your walk”

She rushes out of the door at her threat and out of the house, wiping away her tears. As she was pulling out of the driveway, you walk out of the kitchen while wiping your hands on your apron, you heard the sound of weeping and rushed footsteps heading out of the door, worried about what was going on you rush upstairs to check on Polly to see what was going on.

You finally find her in one of the spare bedrooms where Rebecca and Gregory were to be staying for the weekend, she’s looking out of the window while holding Phil, she turns around with a grin on her face, letting out a sigh of relief you walk over to them to see that he’s asleep.

“Pol you should be relaxing, where is Mary?”

“I sent the mesirable old hag on her way, consider her fired”

“What? What happened?”

“She insulted my nieces and nephews, called them future criminals and parasites, oh and scums of the earth”

“Well then, she must have been the one running out of here crying”

“Crocodile tears my dear, and she’s lucky she still has eyes to cry out of”

“Always looking out for the lot of us ay Pol?”

“You’d all be lost without me”

“So you like to remind us”

“And I will continue to until I have no more breath in me”

“Which hopefully won’t be anytime soon”

“I plan on at least thirty more years my dear”

#polly gray #polly gray imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray imagine #michael gray

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

Yellow Bells

Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x reader

Genre: florist au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: this is for the lovely @mrkimyugyeom for her birthday today. Thanks to the anon the other day who mentioned the florist! concept, I realised it fits this present for my dear friend perfectly. Thank you for everything you have done for me over the last year, Nora! I’m so grateful for our friendship Xxx

Word count: 2136

“Are you sure you can manage on your own, Yugyeom?”

He nodded, ushering his parents eagerly to the exit of the store. “Mum, I’ve grown up in this shop. I’m pretty sure I know every type of flower in here from your little songs you sing as you care for them. Go, I can handle it for a week.”

“He’s right, darling. The florist will be here when we return from our vacation,” Yugyeom’s father assured, tugging his wife outside. She turned to look forlornly at Yugyeom.

Or, probably the row of baby azaleas behind him.

“Make sure you water-”

“I will and I’ll feed those in the tropical part and check the temperature for the lilies and honestly Mum, I can handle this.”

She reluctantly nodded, stretching to place a kiss on his cheek as she hugged him. He waved his parents off as they drove away for their first vacation alone since he was born over twenty years ago. And as soon as they were out of sight, he stepped back into the house of flora and slumped visibly.

Sure, he wanted his parents to have a good time. And he wasn’t exactly lying; he had spent more time within this florist growing up than in the apartment above it.

But Yugyeom wasn’t born possessing a green thumb like his parents. He was even somewhat affected by pollen and since his mother was deeply attached to her flower children, he had only minded the store a handful of times.

“I can do this,” he reaffirmed, nodding his head and slipping his hands deep within his pockets, eying the succulents’ table carefully. “We’ll do this together, right guys?”

He then grimaced, wondering how his mother could speak so fondly to everything in here without any problem. So, maybe he wouldn’t be singing the bushes down the back to sleep as he locked up later on.

But he’d at least be able to keep the store running for the next five days.

Hopefully.

The first day started well. Yugyeom followed the pages of instructions his mother left behind for him to follow, the step by step guide foolproof. He managed to serve a couple of customers and take an order for next week for an event when his mother would be back to make new intricate arrangements.

But that was where he was failing the most. Staring down at the stack of cut-offs lying on the decorative paper he had chosen, Yugyeom groaned out loud. There was no charm to the arrangement he had made. They all clashed and he knew even he wouldn’t buy this to give to anyone.

“You need a different colour palette to balance out all this pink,” you called and he glanced up, his breath getting caught in his throat.

You smiled politely and pointed to the flowers. “You have pink roses, pink tulips and pink carnations. Monochrome is nice but I think if you changed the carnations for a white, it would make the arrangement more interesting.”

“I can do white,” he slowly replied, soon grinning at you. “Thanks!”

“Anytime. I have an order to pick up under the name Y/N,” you stated and Yugyeom nodded, turning to the computer to look up the details, keeping you in his peripheral as he did so.

You glanced around mindlessly. “Mrs Kim isn’t around?”

“Nope, she’s on vacation this week.”

“Oh so you’re Yugyeom then,” you commented and he stopped looking up your order details, blinking rapidly at the fact that you knew his name. You chuckled. “Your Mum talks about you a lot.”

“Really? Are you sure you didn’t hear her say Yellow bells instead?”

You grinned. “I sense some jealousy here. The plants will be offended.”

“You really do know my mother,” he retorted with a breathy chuckle, hiking his thumb in the direction of the storeroom. “I’ll just get your order.”

He returned with a bag of fertiliser and some seeds, sliding them up onto the top of the free counter space. After ringing up your order and accepting your card, Yugyeom then held onto it a little longer than he should. You eyed his lack of action curiously.

“So white?”

You nodded. “White. Don’t stress too much, someone will buy them.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one jealous of flowers,” he teased when he handed back your card.

“Who knows, if it’s still here tomorrow, I might buy it.”

“You’ll be back tomorrow?”

Shrugging, you reached for your purchases. “Perhaps.”

Yugyeom waited for your return the following day. He had managed to empty out the clearance table to a kind elderly couple, stacked the new batch of supplies that arrived just before lunch and even got a start on another mediocre bouquet of flowers when the jingle of the bell over the door made him look up and find you walking inside. He dropped the roll of ribbon he had been fumbling with and then yelped when it landed on his foot.

You laughed. “And a hello to you as well, Yellow bells.”

“I’m going to regret saying that to you yesterday, aren’t I?” he grumbled, bending down to retrieve the ribbon. When he stood back up, you were holding his first arrangement. Yugyeom sighed. “You don’t have to.”

“Why not? I want to be the first person to have one of Yellow-”

“I swear, Y/N if you keep it up!” he cut in with a hearty laugh, your own soon joining his. When the moment was over, Yugyeom then waved you off. “You can have it.”

“Well, I plan on that.”

“No, I mean, for free.”

You grew curious. “Don’t businesses require financial backing?”

“They also require creativity and some sense of pride in their work. That sad bunch has neither. I can’t expect you to buy it.”

“I will. And I will continue to keep buying them until you have just that!”

“What did you say?”

“Ring it up for me, Yellow bells.”

By the fourth day of your regular appearances to the florist, Yugyeom was certain of two things. One, he really liked you. There was just something about you that captivated him and he wanted to talk to you endlessly. Even if it was all about the species of one plant family, he was certain he would listen to every word you said.

Secondly, he knew his mother was behind all this.

“She told you to come and check on her babies, didn’t she?” he asked pointedly when you appeared, looking rather inconspicuously at the indoor houseplants section.

“Who?”

“My mother,” he said and you smiled. “I knew she didn’t trust me!”

“She does actually, like I said, all she talks about is you, Yellow bells.”

He clamped his eyes closed momentarily to clear out the nickname that he was growing rather attached to and then rounded the counter, coming over to your side. “Then why are you turning up every day?”

“Have you made another arrangement yet?” you wondered and Yugyeom rubbed the back of his neck, nodding shyly. “Where is it?”

“It uh, it sold.”

You almost looked upset. “You’re kidding me! Then you’ve done it!”

“I think the old lady felt sorry for me. Something about going home to pretty it up in one of her fine vases.”

“Well, your colour choices are improving so you never know.”

“What’s the deal about you anyway? You always talk about colour.”

You grinned. “I study colour theory at the local university.”

“Huh.” Yugyeom moved over to look at a baby fern, inspecting its leaves. “You’re majoring in art?”

“Business management. I just take it as an extra paper.”

“What’s the end goal for you then?”

“Really?” you asked, biting at your bottom lip as you grinned. “Is Yellow bells interested in where I end up?”

“I’d laugh if it was a florist.” Your eyes sparkled as your lips twitched and Yugyeom gaped at you. “A florist?!”

“I’ve been helping your mother make changes to the business marketing part of the shop for three months now. So it would be this florist.”

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“You moved out, remember.”

“You know too much,” he breathed and you nudged him.

“Not everything.”

“Enough,” he lamented and moved back to the counter in a slump. “You’ll come and work for the family and then you’ll not see me for anything more than Yellow bells then.”

“Were you hoping I’d see you for more than that?” you questioned, unable to hide your intrigue.

“I’m glad the old lady bought the bouquet now.”

“You’ll just have to make me another one,” you concluded, heading towards the door. You stepped out, only to stick your head back around the corner. “Make sure it doesn’t sell before I get here again tomorrow.”

Yugyeom was discouraged. With the knowledge that you were being primed to join the family business, he couldn’t see how this would separate him enough from the son of your future employer. He barely said a word to any of the plants as he locked up that night and grunted in greeting the following morning. He only had to get through today. Tomorrow, his parents would be back and he would be able to return to his apartment downtown and forget all about the way you smiled whenever you called him your preferred nickname.

The day felt like it was dragging. He completed all the morning chores, ensuring the plants that needed watering or fed an enrichment mixture had been checked off his list before he approached the arrangement station. Yugyeom had gathered an assorted bunch of flowers earlier in the morning. There was nothing special to them, just cut-offs that didn’t seem to fit in with others. Together, however, they seemed aesthetically pleasing. Choosing to wrap them in simple brown paper to enhance their beauty, he placed the bouquet into the front stand, going back to working on some multi-coloured roses.

The doorbell jingled and he didn’t even look up. He knew it was you.

“Afternoon flower babies,” you called out, sounding just like his mother. He huffed petulantly, trimming off the excess stem of the rose he was readying for the arrangement. You were soon in front of him. But instead of greeting him with his nickname, you didn’t say anything.

Yugyeom looked up to see what was wrong, his eyes narrowing when he found you staring at something in awe. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You made this?”

“Oh them? Yeah, I felt sorry for them since they didn’t match with their other batches so I put them all together. It’s a bit wild, huh?”

“I love it,” you confessed shakily, blinking a few times. You then glanced up at him and he could see how moved you were. “It’s beautiful, Yugyeom.”

He was overwhelmed. He hadn’t expected this reaction to the bouquet, or within himself. Your words bounced around his insides, shooting off spikes of warmth. He was certain he was madly blushing and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh uh, well.”

“I can’t buy this,” you murmured, still clutching the bouquet despite your statement. Your eyes searched his and Yugyeom eventually grinned bashfully.

“Good, I can finally gift you some flowers, Y/N.”

“One of many bunches, I hope.”

“You forget, today’s my last day here.”

You faltered. “You don’t plan to visit?”

“Well, yeah I come and see my parents most weekends.”

“Then you can make me some flowers then.”

“You won’t be here every day, will you?” he wondered, trying not to stare at you too much. He felt there was more to what you were expressing and his palms started to sweat as he thought over what next to say. “You… you wouldn’t come here looking for me, would you?”

“I have every day this week, haven’t I?”

Yugyeom frowned. “That’s because of my mother’s-”

“Actually, she just asked me to come in on Wednesday. I was curious and couldn’t wait until then.”

“Curious about what?”

“You,” you confessed, burying your face into the flowers you held to hide your expression. You then gazed up at him once more at ease. “You’re kind of handsome, Yellow bells.”

He sighed heavily. “It was going so well.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” you mused and Yugyeom laughed.

“I’ll need to come up with a nickname for you then too,” he announced and you tilted your head to the side.

“You seemed so sure we wouldn’t be crossing paths after today.”

He grinned. “Didn’t you say I needed to make more flower arrangements?”

“I did.”

“Well, I’ve got some new ideas. I need to try them out when I come by. Since you’ll be here, after all.”

You seemed to bloom then, brightening up entirely. “Well Yellow bells, I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

_________________

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dany-is-my-queen · 4 years

Text

Born To Be Yours | Part VI

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word count: 1,993

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

The Hound was fighting an unarmed opponent atop the Walls of the Red Keep during a tourney to celebrate your brother’s nameday. He knocked his shield away and the man fell hard into the courtyard below.

You were seated next to Myrcella, Sansa was on the opposite edge, faking smiles to keep the King pleased. You grew closer and closer with each day that passes, so as your feelings.

“Well struck, Dog!” He said out loud.

“Did you like that?” He turned to Sansa. You rolled your eyes.

“It was a well struck, your grace.” She replied.

“I already said it was a well struck.”

She waited a few seconds to confirm. “Yes, your grace.”

“Who’s next?”

“Lothor Brune, freerider in the service of Lord Baelish. Ser Dontos the Red of House Hollard.” The announcer exclaimed. The last one didn’t appear to be in his five senses. Joffrey gestured him to have more wine, Ser Meryn Trant and another Kingsguard began to pour the liquid down the funnel and the poor knight gurgled and struggled to continue drinking.

“You can’t!” Sansa suddenly shouted before the man collapsed.

“What did you say? Did you say I can’t?”

“I only meant... it would be bad luck to kill a man on your name day.”

“What kind of stupid peasant’s superstition...”

“The girl is right.” Sandor tossed.

“Yes, she is. You’ll reap what you sow on your nameday.” You added.

“He’ll make such a better fool than a knight. He doesn’t deserve the mercy of a quick death.” How kind of the northerner to save the life of someone she doesn’t even know. Those small actions make you admire her.

“Did you hear my lady, Ser Dontos? From now on you’ll be my new fool!”

“Thank you, your grace. And you, my lady, thank you.” They took him away.

“Beloved nephew.” Your uncle’s voice made you instantly smile. He was accompanied by multiple men.

“We’ve looked for you on the battlefield. Joffrey sat down. “You where nowhere to be found.”

“I was here, ruling the Kingdoms.” You almost sneer.

“What a fine job you’ve done.” He jokingly said.

“My dear niece! You look older and prettier.” He kissed your forehead. You grinned.

“You look younger and more handsome” He winked.

“Look at you!” He smiled at your sister. “More beautiful than ever.”

“And you! You are going to be bigger than the Hound, but much better looking.” The three of you laughed.

“We’ve heard you were dead.” Joffrey unconcernedly said.

“I’m glad you are not dead.” The little princess assured.

“We’ve missed you. We have to catch up.” He nodded towards you.

“And we will. Death is so boring, especially now with so much excitement in the world.” He looked at Sansa. “My lady, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Her loss? Her father was a confessed traitor!” The blond angrily screamed.

“But still her father. Surely having recently lost your own you can sympathize.” Not his, but yours. You closed your eyes before the grief took over you.

“My father was a traitor. My mother and brother are traitors too. I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey.” All she can do is pretend and say the right words. The loathe she had for him was only getting bigger.

“Of course you are.” Tyrion smirked sympathetically. The redhead looked your way and you gave her a sweet smile.

He left the tent with his group of people ignoring the King’s questions. It’s so good to have your favorite uncle back. You were still concerned about Jaime. Will the Starks trade him for Sansa? It was sure that Robb was not going to come to the capital. Arya was still missing.

You wanted her to be reunited with her family. The other part of you was shattering at the thought of her leaving. If there was an opportunity you would definitely support her, after all, what mattered to you was her safety and happiness, you tried to provide both but nothing can really fill that hole. Not with Joffrey tormenting her. You would be sad but relieved if she left, you couldn’t be selfish.

“Walk with me, my lady.” You offered your arm to Sansa what she gladly accepted.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to steal you.” You quipped and saw she blushed a little. “Would you fancy visiting the streets of the city?”

“Yes, I’d love to.” Two soldiers were accompanying you keeping their distance.

“I remember when I used to wander around the castle in Winterfell. They were all warm to each other.” She seemed to recalled.

“The people who live here... some are happy and some are not. They don’t have enough resources to subsist. They manage to survive.” You gave silver and gold coins to the elder and children who roamed.

“My mother used to tell me... humility makes people great. Envy and selfishness makes them small.”

“And she’s right.” You halted in the market. Spotting the tent you usually go to. They make beautiful things. Such as purses, necklaces, bracelets, etc. They are not made of the finest materials but they are nice and these merchants work really hard.

“Princess Y/N! You honor me with your presence.” The black-haired woman said, a friend of yours.

“Hello, Addy. What did you bring today?

“I have these pins. And the two lions you have it made.” She showed you the wood pieces with flawless details.

“Do you like them, Sansa? Choose the ones you want”

“For my siblings and my mother.” She picked five wolf brooches.

“Thank you very much. Say hello to little Cass. And remember, anything she or the other kids on the orphanage need, tell me.” Addy nodded with gratitude and bowed.

“It’s very generous what you do for them. You are truly an angel.” The lady smiled warmly.

“I know being in the Red Keep can be suffocating. I’ll get you out of there anytime I get the chance.”

“You are my hero.” You part ways once you entered the big castle. You headed to your uncle’s new room.

“The Hand of the King... I didn’t see that coming.” He waved at you.

“Me neither, sweet niece. It’s so good to see you! How is everything in here? I just had a meeting with the council. The summer is over. Your mother was quite angry with the fact I’m the Hand in my father’s stead. She brought this on herself. The North has risen up against us when your moron brother called for Ned Stark’s head.”

“I tried to stop him. It was useless. He thinks he owns the world now, he is not ruling cautiously, I fear for my siblings life, for everyone’s life.”

“Luckily I’m here to supervise his moves. Advise him. Save the city. Not as easy as it sounds I’m afraid.”

“Did you stayed out of trouble?” You asked him well knowing the answer.

“Well... I pissed out in the edge of the Wall. I slept in a sky cell. Lady Arryn almost sentenced me to die. I fought with the hill tributes. So many adventures.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh I see, that must have been a lot of fun.” Both of you laughed.

“You can’t imagine.”

It has been an unsteady week. Being with little Tommen and Myrcella has been a distraction from the incoming war you’re dealing with. Renly and Stannis proclaimed themselves Kings. You like to be up to date, so you talk with your mother about these matters.

“My uncles... they’re going to get here anytime soon. We have to be prepared.”

“They have no claim. Let them try. We’ll kick them off the moment they set foot on the shores.” Cersei declared dryly.

“I’ve heard some... disturbing rumors about-“

“You believe them?”

“Absolutely not. I’m just curious.” You shrugged.

“Everyone’s intention is to tear our family apart. Destroy us from within. This gossip is just feeding those who don’t want your brother on the throne.” And you said nothing more.

“You’re losing the people, do you hear me?” Tyrion tried to make her listen.

“The people, you think I care?”

“You should.” You told her, annoyed by her apathy.

“Yes. You might find it difficult to rule over millions who want you dead. Half the city will starve when winter comes. The other half will plot to overthrow you. And your gold-plated thugs just gave them the rallying cry, “The Queen Slaughter babies.” She remained silent. “You don’t even have the decency to deny it.” You scowled. “It wasn’t you who gave the order, was it? Joffrey didn’t even tell you. Or did he? I imagine that would be even worse.” Your uncle growled.

“He did what needed to be done!”

“No. They were innocent. What’s wrong with you? What kind of King is he becoming? You objected.

“You don’t even know who they were, Y/N. This is what ruling is! Lying on a bed of weeds, ripping them out by the root one by one before they strangle you in your sleep.”

“I’m no king, but I think there’s more ruling than that.”

“You’ve never taken it seriously. It’s all fallen on me.”

“As has Jaime repeatedly. According to Stannis Baratheon.” You averted your eyes.

“How dare you say that kind of filthy lies in front of my daughter!” The Queen Regent gave him a withering look. “You’ve always been funny. But none of your jokes will ever match the first one, will they? You remember... when you ripped my mother, open your way out of her and she bled to death.” It hurt to see the look of your uncle’s face.

“She was my mother too.”

“Now she’s gone, for the sake of you. There’s no bigger joke in the world than that.” She stormed out, you followed her.

“You shouldn’t be so cruel with my uncle. If I had lost you when either Myr or Tom were born I would never blame them. I know it must have been pretty hard growing up without your mom, but don’t take it out on him.”

“She died so he could live. A little freak. An abomination.” She spat poison.

“Don’t speak of him that way.”

“Why you defend him so much?”

“Cause he is my family. He is a good person.”

“Joffrey is also your family. And yet you detest him.”

“He has a serious problem. You don’t want to see it or maybe you’re okay with it. Remember when we were kids? I was four and he was five. He used to find pleasure on pushing me, you just stared at us and said it was a normal thing. I grew up and I was able to defend myself, one time I did it and you freaked out, you yelled at me, made me feel so small... you held him while I was sobbing, just because I moved when he tried to hit me making him fell to the ground. Of course, it was my fault according to both of you. How many times did Joffrey hurt me? Said I was ugly cause I wasn’t blonde like him? That I didn’t deserve to be a princess, he was so mean to me and you never lectured him. I recall how many nights I spent crying alone in my room wondering why my mother didn’t care enough to stand up for me when my big brother treated me like I was worthless. You broke my heart a very long time ago. I learned how to pick up the pieces. I’m not that helpless little girl anymore.” You could feel your eyes starting to get teary. You didn’t expect her to say something soothing. Cersei apparently ran out of words, you thanked for her silence instead of lying to you, deep down you hoped she’d embrace you. It was too much to ask for. You lingered a bit more before turning and leaving. Heartbroken once more.

#sansa stark x reader #sansa x fem baratheon reader #game of thrones fic #got #baratheon reader

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jestlingnest · 3 years

Text

Tales From Green Needle Gulch

Chapter 4

Start

<<< Part 3

Part 5 >>>

Ever since Ford and Lucy had started dating, Otto had been spending a lot of time in his workshop. Yep, he was third wheeling in their research team. It was hard to get any work done if Ford and Lucy were flirting with each other the whole time. If they had a shortage of psitanium he would be more concerned, but the hydrokinetic mining made it certain he wouldn’t be running out anytime soon. So in his spare time, he had been thinking about what Ford had suggested earlier that week. Starting a new branch of their research. They had studied the effects on everything else, but what about themselves? There were stories of psychics who had been able to dive into the minds of others, and those stories were fascinating. Perhaps he could make a device that would assist in that, make it possible for any psychic to do it. Yes! That would be his long term project.

-----

“Alright- it’s clear that we can telepathically communicate if we can see each other. Even from far away I was still able to hear you,” Ford said, writing this down. “Should we try moving out of sight?”

He and Lucy were testing how strong their telepathic speaking was. With the success of the mining, there was more time to focus on the researching part of this.

“Okay!” Lucy said cheerfully, and then walked away, Ford also turning around and heading in the other direction.

“Here I am, Lucy. I’m going to keep talking to you as I walk, we’ll see if we lose connection any time soon.”

“Alright, Crulley!”

“Try not to get lost.”

“I won’t, I won’t! Oh, walking around quietly doesn’t scare off the wildlife. I think I see a deer over there.”

They kept talking, becoming distracted. It wasn’t until Lucy’s voice faded away that Ford remembered this was supposed to be research.

“Shit! I was supposed to be writing how far from each other we were!” Ford cursed, slapping his forehead. “Oh well. I can just put the distance as far.”

He turned around, walking back towards the gulch. Before he saw them, he heard Lucy and Otto talking.

“Oh, look who finally left his workshop,” Ford said as he walked into view. “Good to see you, Otto.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt all your dates,” Otto said sarcastically. “But anyway- I was just telling Lucy about my new idea. It’ll allow us to explore… the mind!”

He paused dramatically before announcing that, looking at Ford expectantly, who just raised an eyebrow in return.

“Even with my skills, it may take a while for me to figure it out,” Otto continued.

“It sounds very fascinating,” Lucy said. “Exploring someone's mind… mysterious!’

“Sudden topic change, but the other reason I came out here is to let you know we need to drive into town again and pick up some supplies. It’s been too long, we’re running low,” Otto announced.

“Alright! I get to drive!” Ford quickly said, already running in the direction of the car.

“And I call shotgun!” Lucy said, following him.

“But I- Oh, never mind, I’ll sit in the back,” Otto grumbled.

-----

“And the last thing we need to get is food,” Ford announced, looking at the list. “Then we can go home.”

“Don’t they have like… one of those farmers markets things?” Otto wondered out loud.

“I think so. That would be over this way,” Ford responded, starting to walk in that direction, Otto and Lucy following behind.

“It’s a shame that a lot of fruits are going out of season now,” Otto said. “It would be nice if we could- hey wait we know that guy!”

Ford and Lucy looked in the direction Otto was looking, seeing none other than that man who had visited them a week or two ago, the one telling them about the plants- or as he insisted, the people -who had been complaining. He was sitting at one of the stands selling food, all foods that one would find in a garden.

“That’s where I recognized him from! I must have seen him here the last time I went to get supplies!” Otto said. “We should talk to him.”

“Okay, let me do the talking though,” Ford said confidently, taking the lead and walking until he was in front of the stand, his arms clasped behind his back.

“Hi, how can I help y- oh. Hi again.” It took a couple seconds for the gardener to recognize them.

“I believe we got off to a bad start when we first met, I apologize for that,” Ford began. “Have you gotten any more complaints from… the people?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Bob Zanotto,” the man replied after a pause, as if he was deciding if he should continue this conversation or not. “Is there something you want? I am selling these-”

“-fruits and vegetables that are suspiciously not in season now but seem as fresh as ever?” Ford said, finishing the sentence for him.

“...Yes.”

“My name is Ford Cruller. And these are my colleagues, Otto Mentallis and Lucrecia Mux,” Ford said. “You already know we mine psitanium, but we’re also a research team. We research the psychic effects in the area. And, well, we would be honored to have someone with herbaphony on our team.”

“I uh… what’s herbaphony.”

“Mr. Zanotto, you told us of plants complaining to you, and these fruits and vegetables should not be this fresh! Unless a psychic was growing them himself.”

“Okay okay, maybe I am a- a psychic,” Bob said, lowering his voice. “But I don’t know if I’d want to join someone whose hydrokinetically mining, something I wanted to stop.”

“Oh, we aren’t totally focused on that anymore, we have plenty of psitanium now.”

“Really? Is that so?” Bob sounded as if he didn’t believe him.

“I mean, I won’t lie to you, we are still mining, but it’s only in a specific area! But we don’t just mine for psitanium, we’re scientists! Psychic scientists! We study the flora and fauna around this place and how the psychic energy changes it. And if you join us, we’ll even build you your very own greenhouse if you’d like.”

“I’ll um. Think about it.”

“If you decide to help us with our research, you know where to find us.” This would have been a cool moment to hand Bob a business card, but Ford most certainly did not have one of those. “I hope to see you again, Mr. Zanotto.”

Then he, Otto, and Lucy walked away, Lucy waiting until they were out of earshot to lightly elbow Ford in the ribs.

“Colleague? What was that?” she laughed. “Are you embarrassed to call me your girlfriend?”

“Hey! I was trying to sound professional!” Ford protested.

“Are we professionals at this?”

“If we try to make it look like we are, then yes.”

“Do you think he’ll join?” Otto asked.

“I hope so. I guess we’ll just have to give it time.”

-----

Late that night, Bob Zanotto arrived at his house, immediately going out to the backyard. He was still thinking about what he had been told earlier that day, about that research team. He sat down in the grass, the plants that filled the backyard greeting him with a hello, their voices echoing in his mind.

“Hi. I got enough money for the month, but you’ll never believe who I saw today,” Bob said, starting to tell the plants what had happened that day. Even though he didn’t have to, he spoke out loud as he retold the events.

“...And he even said he’d build me a greenhouse,” Bob said, finishing his story. “Can you believe that?”

He looked over at the greenhouse over in the corner of the backyard. His mother’s greenhouse. It had remained locked for years, Bob doing his gardening outside of it instead. It would be nice if he had one, but should he really go join these people?

“What do you guys think?” he asked the plants.

Go. Go. Friends? No. Stay here. Go. Go join them. Go? Stop the flooding? Go. Go there. No no no stay. Stay. Go join them. Friends.

All of them were talking at once, offering up their simple and straightforward advice.

“Friends? Nah, I wouldn’t go to make friends, I have you guys. And you know I don’t do well with people.”

More plant friends there.

“You've got a point.”

Convince. Stop flooding.

“I don’t think they will, but maybe I can get them to lighten it up a little.”

Yes. You should go.

“Agh, I don’t even know them! Why should I go all the way out to the middle of the woods!” Bob exclaimed. But… what did he have here? He had his house. That was really it. All his life was right now was growing food, selling it, and making enough money to support himself. A research team… it really didn’t seem like the worst thing.

“I just- I just need some time to make up my mind, alright?” Bob said, standing back up. “They can wait.”

He walked back inside of the house, sighing. Making decisions was tough. Maybe he would go. Just to check it out. He never said he was staying! But really, living in the woods surrounded by plants, who were much easier to talk to, didn’t sound that bad. And it wouldn’t be full of old memories, like his house was.

Maybe. Maybe he would go.

-----

Lucy was sitting on the deck of her hut by the water, a letter in front of her. Or something that was about to be a letter. It had been a couple days since she had gone with Ford and Otto to get supplies, and had bought some stamps for letters. She hummed quietly to herself as she thought of what to write, tapping her pen against the table.

Dear Marona

I hope you and Lazlo are doing well! I’ve settled down here quite comfortably, but I miss you lots! I met a man named Otto Mentallis who recruited me for a research team where I met Ford Cruller. Oh, Marona, I wish you could meet him, he’s just wonderful. I didn’t expect to have feelings for someone so soon after Gelsin’s death but Ford is just so charming! He and Otto even built me my own little house on the water, and each time I add to it it feels more and more like a home. If you and Lazlo ever decide to leave Grulovia, you will always be welcome here.

Lots of love, Lucrecia

That looked nice. Lucy carefully placed the letter into an envelope, and got up to go mail it. She would probably have to go into town to mail it, hopefully Ford and Otto would get this spot known enough for a mailman to stop by.

As she walked towards the perimeter of the gulch, she noticed someone.

“Bob?”

“Hi- Lucrecia, was it?” Bob said, running up to her. “I’ve decided to join your research team.”

“That’s wonderful-”

“Not permanently yet! I’ll have to see about that!” Bob quickly added. “But um. Yeah. I can help with your psychic research. The plants here are really talkative.”

“That’s probably the psitanium, it makes the plants and animals act… for lack of a better word, strange,” Lucy told him. “Now, how about we go tell Ford and Otto about your decision to join us? I think they’re both up in Otto’s workshop, it’s up on that cliff there.”

As they both turned to look at it, something up there exploded with a bang, making them both jump.

“What was-”

“I’m sure they’re fine!” Lucy said, not sure that they were fine.

“Is that smoke?”

“Yes! But like I said, I’m sure they’re fine! Here, you can join me in the Heptadome while we wait for them to get back,” Lucy said. If Ford and Otto weren’t back within the next ten minutes, she would go check on them. “I hope you enjoy your time on this research team as much as I have.”

“Alright,” Bob replied, following her as she started to walk towards the Heptadome. He really hoped he had made the right choice.

#why do i keep posting these miniutes after im late to something #i guess thats just how itll be #tales from green needle gulch #psn writing

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