Tumgik
#or it still is about justice but even in the littlest of things... anyways yeah he likely starts it but then the others r the ones
astrxealis · 1 year
Text
okay i'll seriously stop now (just a maybe) anyways please get into milgram listen the songs watch the mvs and all! <3
but just to ramble a bit: fuuta really is. so similar to the viewers/es
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა milgram ໒꒱ *·˚#he's a twt user and kinda chronically online LMAOOO okay but to be serious. he doesn't really realize the#real world consequences of his actions until it's too late. and in the mv he so obviously shows regret and all#there's a scene where he's looking at his self from before doing the spraypaint again and tbh yeah dudes sadistic w that kinda thing#sadistic but in sort of a good way in a sense that he wants to deliver justice. but then things escalate too far as well#<- probably starts calling out people for the smallest things. not anymore about justice#or it still is about justice but even in the littlest of things... anyways yeah he likely starts it but then the others r the ones#who put more flame to the fire. i think he has problems w attention too so this kinda yk. makes him feel seen... or idk how to phrase it#bcs dude spends most of his time online right? the whole gaming thing might be an escape from reality in that he#likely doesn't have much friends if any at all (he also doesn't really get along w anyone in the prison. but i think he is a good person bc#he cares for haruka bcs hes younger). hmm. fuuta knows what's the deal with milgram#anyways yeah i think it is all just so interesting. he's definitely regretful and feels guilty and also... he's hinted at stuff#uhm. worrying. stuff. if yeah? idk how to phrase it but i think it is safest to really vote him innocent (also he deserves it imo)#he still needs to improve w some stuff but then again i dont think we should be Extremely Harsh#yk scruntinizing everything. voting him guilty again for a 'small' yk. not that what hes doing is negligible but i mean that he's#starting to improve (even if his... mental state is getting worse it seems) and it feels wrong and is exactly what he calls out#es/the viewers for if we vote him guilty for the smallest of mistakes/injustices even when he's yk. getting 'better'#sorry for terrible explanations here i hope it makes sense oml#i dont think fuuta meant anything bad fr. and then the drama audio w es like... agh wait im putting that aside for now bcs goddamn#i think there's smth to do w. Pressure. ofc. duh. LMFAO. maybe peer pressure to join in the cyberbullying#he likely didnt mean for it to escalate but maybe he started losing himself in it all w a sort of hero complex#ahhh trying to tie together stuff from the 1st trial and 2nd trial is complicated bcs the two have similar but different themes
7 notes · View notes
scripturiends · 3 years
Text
gave me no compasses, gave me no signs
Read on ao3
Summary: It was the one time her hunch had been wrong.
In which Han Joonhwi is acting suspicious, and Kang Sol A intends to find out why.
Rating: T
Word count: 3,848
Notes: Title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘invisible string’: “Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs; were there clues I didn’t see?”
~
As promised, here is the Solhwi fic that I had hoped to be up before Episode 7 airs. I went straight to work after receiving positive feedback from an interest check post. As I mentioned there, the story isn’t necessarily dwelling on the current timeline, but is, for the most part, still canon-compliant. I totally made up all the legal jargon, so please bear with me. And, like the show, I decided to do ‘cutscenes’ instead of one unilinear fic.
I had a lot of fun with this little project for the past two days, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :) I’d also love to hear your thoughts, please do send me a message or feel free to comment, it would mean the absolute world to me. Thank you and let’s all look forward to Episodes 7 and 8 this week!
The fic is under the cut. As a sidenote, this fic is un-beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.
~
I.
Kang Sol A swears she only drifted off for a second.
She had been burning the midnight oil for the past few days, well into the weekend, so much that the tension was radiating into her atmosphere, so much that the heat was starting to get to her head. Her Civil Code paper may not write itself, but neither could she if it took every ounce of her energy just to even sit up. So she plopped down on her bed, head heavy on her pillow, still fighting the urge to doze off.
She blinked, slowly, and as her eyes fluttered at an alarming rate, they eventually closed — just for a moment, I’ll count to ten and then wake up again — and stilled.
Birds were chirping outside her window when her eyes shot open, and that’s how she knew she messed up big-time. She woke with a start, frantically shaking off the books and papers off her person and frisking for her phone, silently praying that she wasn’t too late for her meeting with her project partner Seo Jiho, who she knows absolutely despises latecomers.
Sol A felt something vibrate from behind her, and an incomprehensible sound escaped her lips as she checked her phone. There were mountains of notifications that prevented her from checking the current time: self-set alarms, e-mails from her professors, reminders about today’s meeting with Jiho, and missed calls from a certain Han Joonhwi.
Clearing all of them at once, she finally reads: 9:07 AM. She was supposed to meet Jiho at 9:15. Sol A breathes a sigh of relief, but her momentary celebration is cut short when her phone starts to ring.
Han Joonhwi was calling again.
She didn’t even get a chance to speak yet when the voice on the other end asked, “Breakfast?”
Sol A put him on speaker phone as she packed up her things. “Can’t,” she replied mindlessly. “I have to meet with Seo Jiho and I’m already late. Eat by yourself.”
A few seconds of silence went unnoticed as Kang Sol A zipped up her knapsack and wore it over her shoulder. She finally picked up her phone and switched back to the handset. “Don’t skip breakfast, you hear me?”
Still nothing. “Joonhwi-ah.”
“Walk fast,” was all he said. And then he hung up.
That caught Sol A off guard, but she heeded the advice anyway.
She made it to the study room at exactly 9:13, only stopping by the entrance to catch her breath and tie her hair back into a ponytail. It was silent, so she half-hoped that no one would be there, but half-expected nothing less from Jiho. So she walks in, footsteps heavy, only skidding to a halt when she sees Jiho staring someone down, someone whose back looked all-too-familiar.
“You like her, don’t you?” she overhears from Jiho. “Kang So-”
Jiho suddenly fell silent at the sight of Sol A, and the man opposite him suddenly turned his head towards her. She was right about who it was — it was none other than the person she spoke with on the phone just a few minutes ago.
If Joonhwi was surprised, he didn’t show it.
But Kang Sol A did. She blinked once, and with a hint of dubiousness, she asked, “Who likes who?”
The men shared a look, and she was met with silence again, which was beginning to irk her. But she bit her tongue, took a seat across Seo Jiho, and grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You aren’t...” Jiho replied, trailing off.
“I am by your standards. I know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “For Seo Jiho, ‘on time’ actually means ‘thirty minutes early’. Which means I’m late.”
Sighing wistfully, Sol A added, “I learned that the hard way.”
She locks eyes with Joonhwi momentarily, but he averts his gaze, expression unreadable. Sol A ignores this and tries her luck once more, eyes flitting from Jiho to Joonhwi and back. “Who were you guys talking about?”
This time, almost with no hesitation, Joonhwi finally spoke up. “No one,” he answered. “My roommate was just practicing his cross-examination skills on me.”
He stood up, giving Seo Jiho a final staredown. “They’re very poor at the moment. Help him out, will you?”
Then, without looking Kang Sol A in the eye, he gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, and promptly left.
Sol A’s eyes followed Joonhwi’s back, and stayed there even after he left. His touch lingered on her shoulder like a ghost, but instead of comfort, all she felt was fear. Suspicion. Restlessness. That maybe he was hiding something, and whether it involved her or not, she was keen on finding out just exactly what it was.
II.
“I’m telling you, Yeseul-ah,” Sol A insists. “Something’s up with him.”
They link arms, walking past the school entrance and into the lobby. Jeon Yeseul turns to her, hair falling perfectly into place as she lets out an angelic laugh. God, Sol A thinks. Even her laugh is perfect. But past the admiration for her Aphrodite-like features, Sol A feels like she’s being mocked.
She pouts. “You don’t believe me.”
“I do!” Yeseul defends. “You think he likes Kang Sol B.”
Sol A slides her left hand off Yeseul’s arm and holds her friend’s right one lightly. “So why are you laughing at me, then?”
“Unnie.” Yeseul wraps an arm around Sol A’s shoulder. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Joonhwi-oppa likes you?”
Sol A almost choked on her spit. Of course she’s thought about it — after all, she’s a hundred percent certain that it was the name Kang Sol that slipped from Seo Jiho’s mouth a few days ago. But none of the evidence so far points to it being herself. And anyway, it’s not as if he’s shown any interest in Sol A as a woman. In fact, all he does is tease her. And she’s okay with that. And Sol B already likes Joonhwi. And they seem to be a far better fit than Sol A and Joonhwi. And it’s not like she harbors any romantic feelings for him, either.
She pushes the thought away before it could become bigger.
Sol A denies, deflects, and defends. “That can’t be right.”
“Why not?” her friend challenges.
“Why would he be avoiding me if that were true?” Sol A counters.
“People do that when they feel awkward around their crush,” Yeseul rebuts.
This is starting to feel like a game of chess rather than a conversation between best friends. “I think he’s just scared I’ll tell my roommate or something.” Before Yeseul could say anything else, by some stroke of luck, Sol A spots Joonhwi from her peripheral vision, walking past Lady Justice.
Yeseul smiles kindly at Sol A. She doesn’t doubt its genuineness, but she feels like it’s laced with mischief. “Should we test your theory, then?”
What does that mean?
“Joonhwi-oppa!” Yeseul shouts, waving at him from across the room.
She’s not going to ask him, is she?
Yeseul runs to Joonhwi, a light skip in her step. “I have something to ask you.”
Wait.
“Wait,” escaped from Sol A’s lips, barely a whisper before it started registering on her what Yeseul was about to do. And when it does, she finally sprints. “Jeon Yeseul, wait!”
“Oppa.” Yeseul bats her eyelashes at Joonhwi. Sol A was in tow behind her, feeling small but unsure why.
“Oh, Yeseul-ah,” Joonhwi greets. His eyes lit up at the sight of his friend and classmate.
While it pained Sol A to just sit back and watch, knowing that Joonhwi had been purposefully avoiding her, she let the scene unfold, trusting that Yeseul knew what she was doing.
“You haven’t been going to the study group sessions lately,” Yeseul starts.
Sol A hoped it would get a rise out of him, seeing as he was the one who started the group to begin with, but was barely showing up these days. Instead, all he said was, “The pair project in Civil Code has been holding me up.”
Yeah, right, she thinks. A second-round judicial exam passer and a former police academy student having a hard time in Civil Code? Why do I find that hard to believe?
Sol A scoffs, and Yeseul pinches her side. “Sol-unnie and I are meeting the others for lunch. You should come join us.”
“Ah,” Joonhwi drawled out slowly, as if coming up with an excuse to say no. Sol A expects it to be his next move. “I wish I could, but-”
Knew it.
“Kang Sol B will be there,” Sol A blurts out, fully aware that it’s a total lie. Still, she had to try.
Something in Joonhwi’s mood changed, and his face hardened. Still not making eye contact with Sol A, he excuses himself from Yeseul. “I’ll take a rain check today, okay?”
And without another word, he left again, leaving Sol A with the same emptiness that she had felt in the study room the other day.
Yeseul finally turns to Sol A, crossing her arms. “You’re right. He’s being weird.”
III.
A few more days without Joonhwi’s company, and Sol A was starting to feel its ill effects on her. She hadn’t realized just how much she took him for granted until he was no longer around to challenge her ideas, to annoy her over the littlest of things, to calm her down when she’s freaking out, to be her drinking buddy, to be someone she could tell any and every stupid story to, with the utmost confidence that he’ll keep it to himself or that he wouldn’t belittle her for it.
They’d been through too much together now, and even their fateful first meeting all those years ago didn’t faze him from her. In fact, her little scheme, no matter how deceitful at the time, brought him closer not just to her, but to Byeol, her mom, and to an extent, even Dan.
So what changed? What on earth did Seo Jiho say to him, and what on earth did she walk into, that made him close himself off from her? Proximity may not breed familiarity, but right now she wishes nothing more than to be in his orbit again.
Arguably the worst consequence of the lack of Joonhwi in Sol A’s life right now is having no one to eat with.
During one of her all-nighters at the dorm, she found herself with an intense craving for some ramyeon. She removed her earphones, partly to pull herself back to reality, but mostly to ask her roommate to have a meal with her. As if Sol B would say yes, but it was worth a shot.
“I’m going downstairs for a bite. You wanna come?”
No response, as expected from Kang Sol B. Sol A inwardly rolled her eyes, spinning in her chair to tease her roommate, only to find the desk empty.
She scratched her head while walking, wondering where Sol B could be at this time of night. And without a heads up, too… She was getting worried.
But it seems like her concern was all for naught, because Sol B was right where Sol A was headed.
And she was there with Han Joonhwi.
She was laughing. It was the first time that she saw Sol B laugh, maybe ever, and to see that Joonhwi could be someone who could do that for her, made Sol A feel proud. Like knowing Han Joonhwi was a privilege, not only because of the way he could make people comfortable around him, but also because Sol A had once been on the receiving end of it herself.
She should be relieved. In fact, she should be happy. Because it means that her guess was right, which means she doesn’t have to keep digging anymore. She could just tell Joonhwi that his secret’s safe with her, and they could finally go back to the way they were before... Right?
And yet something about witnessing the pair interact as a mere bystander didn’t sit right with Sol A. There’s a pang in her chest that she can’t quite comprehend — maybe she just misses him, or maybe it’s something else completely. Because if Han Joonhwi has feelings for Kang Sol B, and they’re together right now, then that leaves only one explanation: he must be avoiding her, and for a completely different reason.
It was the first time her hunch had been wrong.
Needless to say, Sol A lost her appetite and trudged back upstairs lifelessly, a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place where it even came from.
IV.
Come Friday, Sol A was too exhausted to even think about Han Joonhwi. Between the endless deadlines and papers to write, her job in the copy room, and the Seo Byungju case, her energy had been too depleted and her social battery too worn out to even care that her relationships could be falling apart.
The only thing she has going for her now is the Legal Clinic, the one place where she could bury her nose deep in case digests and law readings and she would absolutely never get tired of it, because it’s the one place where she feels like she’s making a real difference, especially when people’s lives are at stake. It was the remaining part of her life where Sol A felt like she was in control, so these days, all her emotionally-charged passion was focused on this one thing.
But of course that had to fall apart too, when Professor Yang asked for her to stay after class.
He cut right to the chase. “I’ll be meeting with my defense lawyer today so I need you to consult with the client in my stead.”
Count on Yangcrates to always give Sol A a heart attack in under two seconds.
“M-me?” she stuttered.
The professor’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly, which Sol A took as a sign to backtrack and confidently proclaim that she’s up to the task. She knows there’s nothing Yang Jonghoon hates more than a quitter.
“Ah, yes, of course,” she accedes, with a little more verve.
He nods once in her direction. “And take Han Joonhwi with you,” he commanded.
She’s doomed. Not that she wasn’t doomed before, but now that Professor Yang had to drag her personal life into this, she was really in shambles.
Sol A clears her throat. “With all due respect, Sir,” she laughs nervously, “don’t you trust me?”
Professor Yang takes a moment to think about it. Sol A wonders if today’s the day she finally gets a definitive answer. But Yangcrates is as sly as ever. “This is your chance to get back at him for the Bad FaMa case. Make him your assistant this time.”
He walks away, leaving Sol A dumbfounded once again, but not before he adds, “Under my orders, of course.”
Sol A’s knees buckled at the thought. Normally, she would find this predicament to be absolutely funny, a chance to bicker with Joonhwi and learn something from him at the same time. But he’s angry at her, and she doesn’t even know why, and even merely approaching him has turned into a problem.
Everything in Sol A’s life right now is a problem. She wonders if it's getting Joonhwi back that would fix everything.
Upon leaving the classroom, she spots him getting a drink from the vending machine. She has to slap herself twice, just to mentally prepare herself, to muster up the courage to approach him again.
“Come on, Sol,” she whispers to herself. “This isn’t hard.”
Shaking off the nerves, she takes a step forward, but in a momentary state of weakness, takes another step back. “So what if he’s mad? That’s his problem. I’ve never given him a reason to be angry. He should suck it up. Not me. Come on. Just do it.”
A step forward.
“Just do it.”
A step back.
“Goddamn it.”
One final step back to boost herself forward, and she’s running towards him, pretending to be as casual as possible. “Han Joonhwi!” she calls out to him.
His eyes widen at the sight of her, knowing he has nowhere to escape.
“Did you get my text? Professor Yang needs our help at the Legal Clinic.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”
Joonhwi scratched the back of his head, and Sol A just knows it’s about to be another lame excuse. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sol B for our Civil Code term paper.”
He can’t even look at her, and Sol A wonders just how bad she had hurt Joonhwi for him to feel like this towards her. But that only lasted for a second, when she realized just exactly what he said. Then, her pity turned into irritation, as she accused, “Liar.”
Sol A crossed her arms, and glared at Joonhwi. “Did you forget that I’m her roommate? She went home today.”
V.
Sol A sat across Joonhwi inside the Legal Clinic, her eyes narrowed to slits. A profound silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by a sharp inhale from her.
“You like Kang Sol B, don’t you?”
The only response she got was Han Joonhwi’s signature smirk, playful and taunting, one that said, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will’.
She hated that.
She slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have kept your secret if you just asked. Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you think I’d tell her or something?”
The same smile painted on his face, Joonhwi exhaled defeatedly. “Kang Sol A, I thought I taught you to never make any claims with unfounded bases.”
An eyebrow perched up on Sol A’s end. “It’s not unfounded,” she argues.
“Where’s your evidence, then?” he dared her.
Sol A had been waiting for this. She listed everything he had ever done — or refused to do, which was spend time with her, speak to her, or even look at her, which was absolutely the bare minimum — since the incident with Seo Jiho up to this very moment.
He waves his hand dismissingly. “That’s all speculative.”
If his goal was to rile her up, then it’s definitely working. “Then what about what I heard Seo Jiho tell you that one time? And most importantly, you straight up lied to my face.”
“Circumstantial,” he quips. “That would never hold up in court, especially not when the only witness is yourself. How are you going to be both the defense lawyer and the sole witness?”
Han Joonhwi should be at the edge of the precipice here, and yet he has managed to flip the situation over and turn it into an interrogation for Kang Sol A.
Nothing can hide her frustration anymore. “I would never be the lawyer in my own case. Look, it’s still evidence. You asked, and I gave it. Seriously, Han Joonhwi, what’s with you?”
Instead of a direct answer, he points out, “You rely on your emotions too much.”
Almost immediately, she shoots back, “And you rely on the law too much. This isn’t a courtroom. This is a human conversation.”
He purses his lips, unable to say anything, and Kang Sol A continues. “You’re too stubborn.”
“And you’re too nosy.”
“You’ve benefited from it more than once.” Sol A’s patience is getting thinner by the second. “Can’t you just tell me what I did so that I can either apologize for it or call you out for being wrong?”
“You and Sol B are hardly friends. What reason would I have to be afraid?” Amusement gleamed in Joonhwi’s eyes; Sol A was astounded by how he could stay so nonchalant about this. “Think.”
She glared at him, but still ceded. Damn his tenacity. “Fine, I’ll play along.”
She rolled her eyes, and in a blasé manner, started to think out loud. “I overheard Jiho ask you if you liked Kang Sol, and then you started avoiding me. Yeseul asked you to join us for lunch, and when I said Sol B would be there, even though she really wasn’t, you declined. So I thought it was her that you liked. But it doesn’t make sense, because I saw you two hanging out at the cafeteria that one night-”
His arrogant expression changed to one of shock. “You did?”
“-and then you straight up lied to me about your plans. Unless you two are already dating-”
“We’re not,” he interrupts once more. Sol A eyes him with suspicion. “We’re not,” he repeats indignantly.
“-it could only mean that you do like Kang Sol…”
Joonhwi starts slowly nodding, face a little flushed, but somehow urging her on to continue.
“...just not B. You like-”
“Kang Sol A.” Professor Yang enters the room, calling out her name.
She’s sure her professor asked her to do something, but she was unmoved. At this point, she doesn’t think anything could pull her out of her reverie for the rest of the day.
A veil that covered her eyes was lifted, and she had never been so pitiful of the blindfold that Lady Justice wore. The scales Kang Sol A carried, as heavy as the burdens she was facing, balanced with Han Joonhwi holding them up with her. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand right at that moment, to feel the heaviness in its entirety, and thank him for staying anyway.
They don't talk for the rest of the day, but Kang Sol A is unbothered.
Her questioning attitude may have always gotten her in trouble in school, but this was the one time she was glad to be wrong.
Epilogue
Han Joonhwi fell asleep on his desk again.
He normally finishes up all his revisions early, but because of his agitation, the cold table seemed to be more inviting than the bed, where he simply ends up tossing and turning.
Despite the stiff neck it was bound to cause, he’s been doing it for days, only being woken up by his constant 8:30 alarms. This time, however, it was his gracious roommate Seo Jiho who finally interrupted him from his slumber.
Jiho slammed a sealed instant ramyeon pack on Joonhwi’s desk. He groggily looked up at his friend, whose hair was still disheveled, and asked, “What’s this?”
“It’s from Kang Sol A.” Before walking away, he deadpanned, “Do your own bidding next time. I’m not your messenger.”
Joonhwi took the cup ramyeon, spotting the bright yellow sticky note on it, not unlike the ones he’d put on Sol A’s notebook, or occasionally, her forehead. He smiled to himself as he read the message, walking out to heat up some water for breakfast, but not before carefully displaying the note on his bulletin board for the whole world to see.
Han Joonhwi,
For a second-round judicial exam passer, you can be so dense.
I like you back, you idiot.
Now stop sulking and have breakfast with me.
Idiot.
~
Send me your thoughts/fic requests here!
247 notes · View notes
wonder-kid-pugh · 3 years
Text
This isn't Funny - (Rose Lavelle x reader)
Not really up to my usual standard but I thought I would post it anyways? Hope you like it.
April 1st also known as the worst day of the year for Rose Lavelle.
The day was just an absolute pain for the midfielder. It didn't help that being apart of the Uswnt also meant putting up with the multitude of pranks that you risk the chance of stumbling apun. Being teammates with people like Sonnet, Kelley and Pinoe didn't help either.
But they were nothing compared to Y/n
Y/n L/n, Rose's beautiful, lovely girlfriend was the worst prankster on the team. No one was safe from her pranks not even Rose herself. Rose was able to reel her in once they started dating minimizing the amount of pranks she pulled. She was able to keep her in line with the threat of no cuddles or kisses. It did help that Y/n's love language was touch and she would absolutely die if she didn't get her daily cuddles from her girlfriend.
But April Fool's was an entirely different story
April fool's day was the only day she had complete uncontrollable reign over her pranks. Within reason. Rose wasn't that dumb to not to set some ground rules. So when this camp happened to roll around on April 1st it was safe to say that everyone was on high alert for one of Y/n's pranks.
Rose gently cracked open the door to the meal room. She pushed open the door fully before quickly stepping out of the door frame. But she scrunches her face when nothing happens. "It's all clear!" She hears someone inside the room.
Rose pokes her head in to see the majority of the team are down eating breakfast. Rose walks in septical of the lack of pranks, "Nothing?" Becky shrugs, "We already checked the entire room as far as we know it's prank free". Rose frowns before shaking her head, "That's not possible. Y/n loves classic pranks there's no way she didn't at least put a bucket above the door or something!"
"Maybe she slept in too late to set it up" Alyssa suggests sipping her coffee. With a quick scan of the room Rose shakes her head again, "She was already gone when I woke up I thought she would be down here". Carli hums, "Now that you mention it. It does seem too quiet down here". Christen sends the midfielder a reassuring smile, "I'm sure she's fine Rose. I'd say she's just setting up some elaborate prank to pull on the team". Rose hesitantly nods, "Yeah probably".
Waving goodbye to the older players of the team she quickly grabs some food before heading over to her usual table. "Hey Rosie" Mal hums as she sits down across from her. "Hi" she says back while digging into her scrambled eggs. "Where's the devil you call a girlfriend?" Kelley asks.
Kelley, Sonnet, Pinoe and Ash were common targets of Y/n's pranks. Purely because when she first joined the team they saw her as the perfect target for their pranks. So Y/n saw this as payback and as it as justice for all the times they pranked the rest of the team. Rose secretly knew it was because she was staking her claim as best prankster on the team but she wouldn't tell them that and start a prank war because that wouldn't end well for anyone.
Rose bites the inside of her cheek, "I don't know..." Lindsey groans, "She's probably out setting up all her pranks for today". Mal pouts, "I hate April Fool's Day. I somehow always stumble into one of her pranks".
She did. She always somehow finds a way of walking into one of Y/n's pranks meant for someone else by accident. Like the time she borrowed Lindsey's hairdryer only to get a face full of flour.
They started strategizing straight away. It was common knowledge that Y/n loved classic pranks, all the old school ones. She always made sure to pull at least one every year. But then she always upped the antee with a more elaborate prank which would leave the team in stitches on whichever poor soul happened to stumble into it.
But as they started discussing ways of avoiding Y/n's pranks, Rose couldn't help but feel nervous. By the sounds of it no one had seen the forward yet today and that didn't sit well with Rose. Hoping to ease her nerves, she texted her hoping to at least know she was okay wherever she was. But as it was getting closer to the end of breakfast and there was still no sign of her and still no text telling her whereabouts, that's when Rose started to freak out slightly.
"You okay Rose? You seem really fidgety today?" Alex asked as she passed the midfielder who kept glancing at the door. Rose bites her lip, "I'm fine it's just I haven't seen Y/n all day". Alex gives her a small smile, "I'm sure she's fine she's probably setting up some pranks somewhere". Alex balances Charlie on her hip, "I just hope she doesn't have anything planned for me". Rose waves her off, "She doesn't. She said she didn't want to risk Charlie getting caught in the crossfire and thought you earned a break with your pregnancy and all". Alex grins and at the mention of Y/n, Charlie started to gurgle happily while clapping her hands.
Kelley whines, "What? That's no fair!" "Just because Charlie has Y/n wrapped around her finger..." Sonnet grumbles. Rose rolls her eyes at the two but Alex purses her lips. "Now that you mention it, it is weird...Y/n promised to take Charlie today while I organized some business stuff" Alex say to Rose. Now this causes Rose to frown.
One thing that everyone knew was that Y/n adored Charlie. She absolutely loves the child. She was always the first to volunteer to babysit her to give Alex some time off. And Charlie was always happy to see Y/n. It was extremely cute to see the two interact and it was clear that Y/n would do anything for the littlest Morgan.
And Rose wasn't going to lie, seeing Y/n with Charlie gave her major baby fever and found it extremely attractive.
Now this causes Rose to frown, "What? That doesn't make sense. Y/n never misses a chance to play with Charlie..."  Alex shrugs, "All I know is Y/n said she would take Charlie after breakfast". This didn't ease any of Rose's nerves.
Mal sends her friend a reassuring smile, "I'm sure she's fine Rose. Maybe she just forgot. You know how she gets on April Fool's". Rose sighs, "Yes but she would never forget about hanging out with Charlie. And she still hasn't answered any of my texts".
"Okay how about this. We give it an hour and if Y/n still hasn't shown up, we have a look around for her" Sam proposes. Rose bites her lip but nods, "Fine".
But one hour turns into two and Y/n still hadn't showed up. And even after searching the entire hotel, none of the team had found their missing teammate. "Nothing?" Rose asks as Christen, Tobin, Becky and Alyssa, the last group walk in. But they all shake their heads. "Sorry Rose still no sight of her" Tobin sighs.
"There isn't even a sign of a prank anywhere" Pinoe frowns. "That's unheard of for Y/n" Crystal comments. "She still won't answer her phone" Tierna sighs after trying to call the forward again. Everyone was quiet wondering where their lost teammate could be.
"Okay hear me out" Sonnet starts causing everyone to look at her, "could this be some complex prank Y/n planned? To get us all worried about her 'missing'" But Rose was quick to answer.
"No she wouldn't do that. She loves pranks but she wouldn't take it this far" Rose says adamantly. "Has anyone tried her apartment?" Christen asked. They all look between each other.
Christen sighs, "Okay let's go". Rose bolts up and is already out the door before anyone could stop her. Thankfully camp was in Utah this month. And due to Y/n playing for the Royals she had an apartment here for during the season.
Rose had a spare key just in case of emergencies which she decided this was one of them. But even as they walked in, Rose already knew she wasn't there. Y/n had a thing with silence. She grew up in a house with 4 brothers. She never got a bit of peace and quiet. She hated silence. It's a reason Y/n always carried earphones with her. When things get too quiet she starts playing music to fill the void. So when Rose walked into a quiet apartment she knew Y/n wasn't here.
Rose takes this time to try and call her again. But she sighs when the call rings out and goes to voicemail. When the voicemail beeps Rose sighs and rubs her temple, "C'mon Y/n this isn't funny anymore. I'm really worried about you. Please call me back". She ends the call and looks around the apartment for any clues where her girlfriend could be.
Christen and the others just send her sad looks though when they search the entire apartment but find no trace of the girl. Rose felt like tearing her hair out.
But then her phone rang
She didn't even check it before she was fumbling to answer it, "Y/n?!" But instead of the cheerful voice of her girlfriend, she heard a woman speak down the phone, "Is this Rose Lavelle?" Rose squeezes the phone tighter, "Yes this is she". "I'm calling as you are the emergency contact for Y/n L/n. She was brought in earlier today for a head injury".
Rose clasped her hand over her mouth trying to stop the gasp from leaving her mouth. "Is she okay?" "She's okay. A little roughed up but she'll be fine". Rose lets out a small sigh of relief, "What hospital?" After finding out what hospital she was at and telling the team they were quickly off again. Rose was already jumping from the car before Tobin had even come to a complete stop.
Rose rushes up to the reception, "Uh hi I'm the emergency contact for Y/n L/n. I got a call she was here?" The nurse nods and checks the computer before smiling at the midfielder, "If you would follow me".
Rose followed closely behind her. When she walks into the room she sees Y/n smiling dopely at her, "Hi!" Rose stares at her stunned for a second before she takes three quick strides to her girlfriend.
"Ow!"
Y/n pouts as she rubs her arm that Rose just hit, "Why would you hit me? I'm literally in a hospital!" Rose sniffles as she slaps her arm again, "Do you know how worried I was? Why haven't you been answering your phone?" She  frowns as she takes Rose's hand in her, mostly to make sure she didn't hit her again, "My phone is shattered I couldn't answer it the screen was too destroyed".
Rose's eyes drifted up to Y/n's forehead to see stitches above her right eye and a bruise blooming on her jaw. Her hand lifted up to touch her forehead but Y/n flinched away. Rose frowns, "What happened?" Y/n pursued her lips, "I was jumped when I went out this morning to get supplies for April Fool's".
Rose frowns as her hand grazed over her bruising jaw but this time she doesn't flinch away and instead nuzzles into her touch. "I'm sorry for worrying you" Y/n whispers kissing the pad of Rose's thumb affectionately. Rose shakes her head, "I'm just glad your okay".
Y/n grins at her girlfriend, "I know it looks bad but I totally kicked their asses". Rose couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sure you did babe". Y/n raises an eyebrow, "Seriously I totally had them. They got lucky that there was two of them and they caught me off guard. Otherwise it would be them here and not me". Rose giggles and kisses her forehead gently, "Whatever you say tough guy".
"You know we would have enjoyed our prank free day if we weren't so worried about you" Sonnett teases. Everyone laughs while Y/n pouts, "I can't believe I missed April Fool's Day! I had so many good pranks planned!" The older players shook their heads at her while the younger players silently cheered at they wouldn't fall victim to her pranks.
"I know you missed April Fool's Day but I might know something that would cheer you up" Alex says stepping forward. Y/n's smile immediately brightens as she sees who sees the small child in Alex's arms, "Charlie!" The littlest member of the Carrasco Morgan Family gurgled and babbled happily and made grabby hands at the forward.
The team watch as Y/n blows a raspberry against the child's cheek causing her to sequel. They watched happily as their now found teammate plays with the small child. Rose couldn't stop the smile spreads across her face as she watches her girlfriend play with  Charlie. She couldn't help but think how great Y/n was with kids. Even though she scared the shit out of her today.
The one thing Rose did know was Y/n would be a great mother.
248 notes · View notes
byuntrash101 · 3 years
Text
Cry me a Fucking River
Tumblr media
Pairing: Baekhyun x You
Genre: angst 💀(i tried), smut 🖤
Tags: plot, back story, psychological and physical violence, Ex!AU, AbusiveRelationship!AU, “make up” sex, crying, alcohol, breeding kink (i guess?), VERY angsty, bitter sweet ending. Don't read if you are triggered by these topics
Raiting: 18+
Word count: 2.6k
Summary: Even if it’s a lie you love the way he looks at you when he says “I love you”.
A/N: It’s sooo difficult for me to write angst. I really tried hard 🥲... But IM really inspired me with the song. Even the tittle comes from IM's neck tattoo in the MV... I’ve been working on this one shot ever since it came out (aka a long time ago) please tell me if i did justice to this beautiful song ^^
General Masterlist
Tumblr media
Inspired by IM Changkyun’s “God damn”
𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓲𝓽, 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽
𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱
𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷' 𝔂𝓸𝓾
𝓖𝓲𝓶𝓶𝓮 𝓪 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰
𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓲𝓽, 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽
𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘'𝓶 𝓭𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰
𝓖𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷
𝓘 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾,
𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓘'𝓶 𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴
                                                 Received 4m ago
                                               Baekhyun: I miss u...
                                                                    ✓ Read
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯...
𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶...
𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯
You sigh staring at the ceiling of your room. Your roommates are down stairs playing an alcohol game but you sit here alone. You don’t feel like having fun tonight… You don’t feel like anything at all actually.
You lift your phone up and stare at the name on the screen. Baekhyun… Baekhyun is your ex boyfriend. You have been separated for a year now. After 3 years of the most toxic and damaging relationship you ever had you finally broke up. 
You told everybody he was bad for you.
You told your friends how possessive he was, how would go through your phone, or force you to use the speakerphone every time you have a call. Or how controlling he was when he didn’t want you to wear make up or even earrings…
And you’re not lying, all of it was true, down to the littlest detail and that’s what you told yourself too. But the truth was that you were hiding half of the story. Because no matter how much you tried to persuade yourself… you were just as bad to him.
You kept quiet on the silent treatments, spending days even weeks ignoring him, just for the sake of hurting him.
You kept quiet on the numerous ways you were always blaming him for all the problems you ever had. You never took the time to listen to him, you just always assumed it was his fault for everything. If you guys fought so much it was his fault, if he was sad, it was his fault. No matter how many hurtful words you spat his way it was his fault for being weak and not being able to bear the truth.
You kept silent on the way you always tried to make him jealous by letting other guys go after you or by simply letting people believe that you were available.
Always manipulating him in feeling sorry for himself, the exact same way he did it to you.
Like a game
Turn by turn
You were making your lives a living hell
Just like a game
 But they were moments of peace, or if you dare to call it that way, love. Yes, in some moments you truly loved each other. In a way, only the both of you can understand.
No one could possibly get how good you felt when you were finally calming down after the storm. How his eyes would clear up. How your heart would beat for him when his lips pink pouty lips curled into an adorable boxy smile. When you laid your head on his chest and that you knew he was yours, yours only. How you knew that heart beating against your ear was beating for you. How you knew the soft warm breath fanning your cheeks was just for you. When you both apologized and made the ever empty promise of never hurting each other again. He looked at you with the most sincere eyes and he said that he loved you…
This…
This feeling… no one could understand, no one but you two.
In your own unique and fucked up way… you loved each other.
But it had to be stopped right? If it went on you would have ended up killing each other… When you love and hate someone so much at the same time it’s the only way out…
And so you broke with him for good when after another fight you… You have absolutely no trouble recalling the taste of blood in your mouth, the pain in your scratched out throat, the screams of your ex-boyfriend, the sinking void in your chest…
You remember everything, every single detail.
How his voice shattered your eardrums, the noise of your nose breaking, the blood gushing out his brow bone, dripping in his eye.
That night was the last one.
 You can’t help but to think about that when you look at the message on your phone. It’s been a year, the memories of the damage you’ve done and the pain you endured is still fresh… But so is this feeling of warm happiness bubbling in your stomach… and so is this feeling you want to call love…
***
“Hey” Baekhyun simply says when he opens the front door of his apartment. He invites you in and you try to avoid his eyes.
“The living room is right there he points to the end of the hall” you nod, eyes still on the floor as you walk to the designated room. You sit yourself on the couch and Baekhyun sits right in front of you in a single seat. The only light source is a desk lamp set on the end table to your right. The room is small but cosy it has the familiar smell of cold cigarette that you came to love.
“The apartment is nice” you finally say after a long moment of silence. Baekhyun chuckles.
“Yeah… it’s kinda nice living on my own now… You know without the roommate” You are still looking around the room even though you already looked at the details of the curtains 3 times. “The only downside is that you can’t blame someone else for the dishes piling up in the sink” He laughs, with that clear, open mouth laugh that you used to know. A sound you thought you would never hear again. You don’t know why but that makes you look at him.
The second you lay eyes on him your heart sinks. His dark brown eyes forming little crescents, his pouty lips curled up in an amused smile, his moles sitting on the side of his face. After that long , you would have thought that you had forgotten such details about him but you didn’t.
His smile faded when he noticed how long you stared. You locked eyes with him and somehow it felt different… Somehow you felt like you were going to be alright… Somehow you felt at home…
“You want something to drink?” he asked, blinking twice and shaking his head, breaking the intense eye contact.
“Yeah… Vodka please” you quietly answered smiling back.
At once he disappeared into the kitchen. The room was completely silent and you were able to hear your heart. It was beating hard but not fast. You didn’t feel nervous at all for some reason.
When Baekhyun came back with two glasses of the clear liquid and a beaming smile he sat next to you on the couch. Because frankly, it was what felt the most natural. His thighs pressed against yours.
You brought your glass to your lips to have a sip.
You thought that it would have been awkward that you wouldn’t know what to say but… The truth was that you didn’t need to say anything. You already spent hours speaking already. It was like you already said all the words in the world. And no words could ever make it right anyway. What was done was done and reality can’t be sugar coated anymore.
“Listen, y/n I-“
“No” you lifted your hand. “Don’t”
You didn’t want to hear them again. You knew them by heart the fake excuses and the empty promises. You didn’t come for that. You came to remember what was good.
You leaned in and closed your eyes and Baekhyun did too. When your lips link, sparks of electricity shoot between you, shivers run down your spine, making the hairs on your nape stand. Just a simple peck before he parted from you. Immediately your lips missed the warmth of his.
Baekhyun brought his hand to press your thigh. His cold slender fingers caressing your skin though your distressed jeans. You’re startled when you feel a warm tear roll down on your cheek. You repress a sob when you finally understand what it is… Then you notice a scar above his eyebrow and flashes of the last fight come rushing to you… You made that, you made that scar, along with the many invisible one that slowly turned him into the broken person he is. The overwhelming weight of guilt comes to crush you down.
But before you can open your mouth to say anything he crashes his trembling lips on yours. Trying so hard not to cry too. But the truth is that he missed you just as much.
His cold hands slip under your hoodie and roam your heated skin while yours unbutton his shirt. You can’t believe the same hands that are right now so delicately caressing your skin are the same that were lifted hit you so many times.
You can’t believe the soft lips kissing you so sweetly are the same ones that parted to insult you so many times.
You press your eyes closed shut, trying to chase away the memories of blood gushing out and shattered screams. You let your fingers entangle in his shiny silver hair. While he unbuckles you belt and pulls down your pants. Right after you help him out of his own clothes.
You lay down on the couch and he lays right over you, gently kissing your neck as you gasp at each one.
When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes translate a thousand emotions. Guilt, sadness, remorse and maybe, just maybe, even love. Or maybe you only want to see that in his eyes.
“Are you sure you want this?” he says his own eyes brimming with tears.
“Yeah” you breathe out.
Yes you want to forget about the bad things, about the pain and hatred, about the screams and the blood. You want to escape the truth one last time. You want to tell yourself that underneath all of this was true love. And you want to believe it’s still there even though it’s untrue. Even though you’re lying again…
Just then, like he senses your need to turn your face away from the truth, your need for fiction he crashes his lips onto yours, pulling you into a rough and harsh kiss. His teeth grazing over your lips. 
His length plunges inside your sopping center and his warmth pulls a small gasp from your lips. Finally reunited at last. 
He seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. Both of your body match up a coordinated and pleasurable rythme. His rough and hungry hands convey how much he missed you and even after all this time, he still knows you by heart… Of course he does… and you do too because the truth is that… You and him… You could never forget each other. Forever damned to be together, forever cursed to be apart.
The pleasant and familiar feeling of his hands, his lips and his manhood kissing your deepest part ignites a fire inside you. You pull both of your bodies up. You make him sit up and you straddle his lap.
But the truth is just right here, whispering in your ear…
 “You’re just fucking whore” his distant voice yells form the back of your head
You want to forget
Your hands roughly pull on his hair as he thrusts up inside you, making you moan his name in a shaky whisper. He whimpers into the deep and messy kiss. Your hands run on his warm skin, desperate to find under your finger the soft sensation you used to know.
 The sound of shattered glass on the floor
You want to forget
Your hips swivel around on him. You push your center against his hard cock, making him moan against the skin of your neck. Both if your warm bodies pressed together are reminded of each other.
 Soft sobs, lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom
You want to forget
He nibbles on your collar bones while you throw your head back giving him unrestricted access to you. His swift hands contour you and harshly grip your waist to pull you up and push you down on him, walls clenching around him while you feel him twitch in pleasure. Baekhyun dives in on your chest, taking one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth.
 The smudge makeup, the cold nights, the reek of alcohol, the screams, the sound of his hands leaving blue marks on your face, the horrors you said, the horrors he did… everything… everything…
You want to forget everything
 “Aaaah… Baekhyun” you whisper, trying to cover the overwhelming rumor of your own memories.
“Fuck y/n” He breaths against your skin while you lower your hips on him.
It feels so good. He feels so good. You close your eyes, making sure to enjoy the moment while for a brief instant you didn’t feel miserable.
“Fuck Baekhyun… Aaaah'' you moan again, feeling your core throb around Baekhyun’s length while his comforting grunts fill the air between you. 
“That's it baby” he purrs in your ears, hands roaming your body and lightly teasing your hard nipples. “Moan my name”
“Baekhyunnn” you cry out, feeling your release coming dangerously close as you rock your hips on him. 
“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he moans “You’re gonna make me cum” He says pushing his hip up fucking you back while you both sync up, fucking each other and at a beatiful matching pace.
“Say you love me” you plead, desperately wanting to believe him.
“I love you. I love you y/n” his hoarse voice whistles in your ear.
“I love you too” 
“Let's make that kid. Let's have that child we always dreamed about” he moans, nails digging into your bare thighs
“Okay” you whisper in a short breath, giving up, desperately wanting to believe this child will save the both of you.
“Take my cum baby.” His breath is short, struggling on every word. “Get pregnant... aghh” he grunts as he finally cums.
You feel him let go, huge amounts of thick cum rush inside of you, filling you up to the brink, reaching the deepest part of you, where life can possibly sprout.
You throw your head back, toes curled up and eyes rolled back as you bite hard on your bottom lip, fully enjoying the delicious full sensation spreading to your body as your heat uncontrollable twitches in a powerful orgasm. 
You moan out his name like a prayer, like a religious mantra. A final vain attempt to make you both right for each other at last.
He crashes his lips onto your, trying to chase away your doubts while you throb around his cock.
“Cum for me baby” he whispers as you slowly ride your high, drunk on the unbearable pleasure he pumped inside you.
Once you both get down he looks at you eyes filled with something you can’t quite describe, something you’ve never seen before… Maybe hope.
“I love you y/n”
“I love you too”
You hide your face in the crook of his neck, hiding the tears rolling on your cheeks. 
Even if it has to end in despair and sorrow, if it’s with him then you are willing to give it a pointless try once again. Because even if it’s a lie you love the way he looks at you when he says these three simple words.
General Masterlist 
Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon (if you don't like angst i'm sorry for tagging you 😭)
A/N: There we go! Please tell me if I honored IM’s amazing song. I listened to it around 5000 times. So guys... can I write angst or not? I don't really know if I like it 🤔
203 notes · View notes
batboyimagines · 4 years
Text
Cold-Blooded [Damian Wayne x Male Reader]
Your Dad and your Ma’s relationship is... rocky to say the least. They were never actually together, no marriage or anything. It was just one night of bad decisions that made you.
So your birth wasn’t well planned. You think the reason your ma even kept you was because she was lonely. She’s raised you to the best her ability for they past fourteen years but it was only recently your dad found out. Now they have joint custody.
See, all of that isn’t normal per say, but it’s not bizarre or anything. Just two inexperienced, lonely people screwing up in more ways than one to make a whole nother screw up. However, your parents aren’t exactly average. One’s not even human. Anymore.
Medusa and John Constantine. By the gods, that’s probably the worst match imaginable. Moms great and all, you really do love her, but she’s a little crazy. Being exiled on an island all alone does that to you. And Constantine’s just... a mess. Not even a hot one.
Even so, you don’t mind being pawned between the two. They’re both great in their own ways and you appreciate the both of them. Right now you’re hanging out at your dad's house. Though it feels more like hanging out with an awkward uncle than a dad.
It’s nearing about 8:00 in the morning, not that you know that. You’re asleep on the couch, gazing blankly at the ceiling. You forgot to close your eyes while you sleep again. It’s sort of creepy.
A sudden pounding on the door startles you up, breaking the staring contest you were having with the ceiling. A contest which you totally won. You blink dazedly and the pounding starts up again.
Mournfully slipping out from under the soft, warm stack of blankets you slept under, you lumber towards the door. You squint through the peephole.
Through the peephole you see a warped view of six costumes lunatics of all sizes. You lean back from the door and let yourself have a begrudged yawn. Gods, it’s way too early for this. Dad’s still asleep even with all the racket.
The littlest lunatic in the hood pounds the door hard enough for it to shake in its frame and you decide you’ve had enough. You don’t bother with the chain latch and just open the door a crack.
“Do you know how early it is?” You groan. The little lunatic, who is actually around the same height as you, scoffs.
“It’s eight pm. A normal person would be awake and ready for the day by now.”
“Well, I don’t know how you people are up then because anyone who dresses like that isn’t normal.” The green guy snorts.
“Listen, we’re sorry to wake you, but is this the residency of John Constantine?” The guy in the black leotard asks.
“... no, why?” You ask suspiciously.
“We are the Teen Titans and we are in need of magical assistance.” The really tall, really exposed, redhead says. “We require his assistance, on behalf of the justice league.” You tense a bit at that.
Okay, you don’t hold the things that the gods did to your mom against those two members of the justice league, Aquaman and Wonder Woman. They seem like nice folks who really do want to do good and not for the selfish, vain reasons gods usually do, but…
They got their abilities from the same gods who really, really messed your mom up for no good reason. So call you petty, but you don’t want to associate with them.
“Sorry, he’s not here.” You say attempting to close the door on them. The hooded lunatic jams the door with his hand.
“This is a matter of utmost importance, you will take us to Constantine.” He demands. You scowl at him and try to shut the door on his fingers.
“Screw off weirdo, he’s not here!”
“He is, you are lying!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am NOT!”
“Are TOO!”
“Christ on a cracker, what the bloody hell is going on?!” Your dad shouts, slamming the door shut, fully unlocking it and swinging it back open. Looks like the racket finally got him up. He sags at the sight of the troupe of crazies. “The hell do you people want?”
“We need your help.” Leotard man says.
“Of course you do. With what, I mean?”
“My father, Trigon, has possessed the justice league and we need a way to stop him.” The girl in purple replies. Your dad tenses.
“Trigon, eh? Sounds like a piece of work.” He says. You pretend to cough.
“Says the piece of work.” You tease under your breath because what’s even the point of a dad if you can’t make jabs at his life choices? He gives you a look and you just grin up at him.
“Why should I help you? The kind of magic that I’d have to use against that guy is expensive and tricky. I’m not gonna do it outta’ the good of my heart.”
“Because if you don’t help us, he could destroy the world.” Leotard says.
“Of course he could.” Dad breathes out as he sags against the door frame. You pat his arm. He looks at you and you give him an awkward smile. It seems to help him to a decision. He straightens up. “Well, I guess I don’t want the world to end. I need somewhere for this one to grow up.” He pats your head affectionately.
“Thanks.” You say, a bit embarrassed. Half because that’s the sappiest thing he’s ever said to you and half because, well, it’s nice to know you mean something to him. Even if he didn’t know that you existed until a few months ago.
“Well, come on in then.” He says turning from the doorway and into the apartment. The troupe of crazy people that nearly just broke into your house follow. You flounder for a moment.
“Wait, seriously? We’re just gonna let some random strangers, who nearly just broke in our house, inside just like that?” Your dad looks a bit guiltily at you. 
“Sorry bud, but this happens a lot more than I’d like.” He raises his hand hesitantly and gently lays it on your shoulder. “You can go back to your mother while I deal with this, if you’d like.”
“No, no it’s okay,” You quickly reassure, “it’s not bad it’s just… kinda weird. You know it’s weird right?” He snorts.
“Of course I do, but to be honest it’s almost normal for my line of work.”
“You should get into a different line of work then.”
“You know, I probably should.” 
Leotard man clears his throat- you know what? You want to know their names before they commandeer any more of your father-son bonding time. “By the way, what are your names? I feel I should know them before we do anything else.”
“Oh! My apologies,” Redhead replies, “I am Koriand’r, of Tamaran. And this is Blue Beetle, Beast boy, Raven, Nightwing, and Robin. We are the Teen Titans.”
“No offense, but you look more young adult than teenager?” She smiles sheepishly.
“Well, I was part of the original titans. I am now the leader.”
“Oh, okay, makes sense.”
“Alright,” your dad cuts in, “so what’s your plan for Trigon? What exactly do you want from me?” He and the Teen Titans begin to plan. You stick around for a bit, to get an idea of what your dad does. It’s not very interesting. So ten minutes into planning, you slip away to make breakfast.
Now, your dad is a mess. Not kind of a mess, a straight up mess. The kitchen is almost a reflection of your father. It’s a huge mess. There’s takeout boxes and dirty dishes strewn across every counter, no room for literally anything there is so much garbage. And this is only a few weeks worth of build up. Dad actually cleaned up before you arrived. 
Before you can even begin cooking you have to clean off the counters for some space. You’re trying to balance takeout boxes on top of the overflowing garbage can when a voice sounds from the doorway.
“This place is repulsive.” 
“HUAUGH FUCK!” You whip around flinging the takeout boxes across the room. Hooded lunatic, uh Robin you think, dodges them expertly. He seems a little surprised. You clutch at your chest, “Jesus, Christ man!”
“Apologies, I… did not mean to startle you.” He raises his hands a bit, as if calming a rapid animal. 
“Apology accepted.” You calm your rapid heart. Your freak out seems to have spooked any animosity Robin had earlier. The two of you stand around awkwardly. He’s a stranger in your house and he’s in a strangers house, which does not make for easy conversational partners. He looks around, avoiding your gaze. His eye catches on a painting on the wall.
“That is… an interesting picture.” He tries.
“Uh yeah, that’s actually a picture of my mom.” You say, playing with your hands.
“That is Medusa.”
“Yeah, she’s my mom.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
“She doesn’t actually look like that, that painting’s really inaccurate.”
“Why does your father keep it up?”
“I dunno,” You’d feel weird cooking with him watching you, so you make your way past Robin and into the dining room, “I think either pettiness or affection.”
“Pettiness?” He asks following you.
“Yeah, I mean, they aren’t together? I think they were at least acquaintances before they, uh, ‘conceived’ me. But they don’t seem to like each other very much nowadays.” You say, pulling a chair out from the table. You push the one across from you out with your bare foot and gesture towards it. Robin hesitates a moment, but decides to sit down. “What about your parents? They like each other any more than mine do?”
“No,” He snorts, “I think they like each other much less.”
“Oh.”
The conversation stalls. You shift uncomfortably. Robin stares a hole into the grimy table. 
“Why not?”
“Pardon?”
“Why don’t your parents like each other?” He seems to think over his answer. 
“They are on opposite sides of the law.” 
“Oh, that’s tough.”
“Yes.”
“There’s tons of couples on opposite sides of the law though.” 
“Not them. My father’s moral code cannot bend to suit my mother.”
“Ah, I see.” You lean across the table and pat his arm. He looks at it a bit suspiciously, you pull it back. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“No need to apologize, I’ve already come to terms with it.”
“Yeah, well, still sucks.” You say standing up. “I was gonna make food, wanna lend me a hand? I’m still new to cooking appliances. And electricity.”
“How are these things new to you?” He asks, even as he stands up to help anyway.
“Dude. I grew up on an island with no electricity or WiFi. All of this,” you gesture to the space around you, “is totally alien to me.”
“Ah, I see. Yes, I will assist you.”
“Thanks.”
He failed to mention that he has never used a toaster either. You both nearly burn down the apartment, had it not been your dad’s fire extinguisher.
TO BE CONTINUED
537 notes · View notes
artificialqueens · 4 years
Text
Off Limits, Chapter 1 (Bitney, Willaska) - Veronica/Albatross
A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” We’re tagging them both as “Just Friends” so that it’ll be easy to read the chapters in order, but once it gets complicated, I might include a guide. Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order, which so far is just 2.)
Summary: When Bianca meets her new roommates, she’s especially captivated by one of them. Worse, the feeling seems to be mutual.
***
Bianca hated being fucking late. It was bad enough that she’d had to drive all the way from New Orleans to California, praying that her 7-year-old Kia wouldn’t break down. But for the last leg of her trip, which should have been 45 minutes, she got caught in an accident on the freeway that turned what should have been a short, pleasant zip up the freeway into a torturous 4-hour crawl.
By the time she reached the dorms, she was fuming--not to mention exhausted. And having to lug her shit from possibly the worst parking spot in the garage did nothing to improve her shitty mood. By the time she’d achieved some semblance of order in her room, she was hot and thirsty and as cranky as she’d ever been.
She chugged about a gallon of water and then collapsed on the sofa, arm over her eyes, trying to summon the energy to think about a shower.
It was then when the front door swung open and a trio of laughing, chattering girls poured inside.
Bianca looked up. At first glance, all she saw was Blonde, Blonde, Blonde. A bunch of perfect, plastic sorority girls, exactly the type of girl she couldn’t stand. (And, if she was honest, exactly the type of girl that she always feared a little bit.) She groaned inwardly, sitting up and giving them a withering glare.
Unable to help herself, she announced, “Great...I’m living with a bunch of bottle blonde bitches.” As the words left her mouth, she realized that she was perhaps not making the best first impression. But instead of taking it back, she doubled down with, “So whose hideous leopard duvet is that?”
The Littlest Blonde burst into delighted giggles, before glancing at the (Bianca assumed) Duvet-Owning Blonde beside her and pressing her lips together contritely.
Slutty Blonde slung an arm around Duvet Blonde and said, “Calm down, bitch. Some of us are garbage pails with hideous taste. We’re still people.”
Bianca pursed her lips, determined to continue hating them all.
With that, Little Blonde skipped forward, flinging herself onto the sofa and offering a bright smile.
“Hi, I’m Courtney. You must be our fourth roommate,” she said.
She had an accent--a cute accent. Shit. Do not let the accent fool you. This Barbie doll bitch isn’t your friend.  
“Wow...what gave that away, detective?” Bianca asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“Well…” she leaned in conspiratorially, speaking in a low voice. “It would be a little weird for you to be here, if you weren’t. So...” She finished with a flutter of lashes and another dazzling smile, green eyes dancing with amusement.
Well, fuck. Bianca was not planning to be this charmed, this quickly. The plan was to be grumpy and sulk for awhile. Foiled by a pretty face...not the first time, but still annoying.
“Genius.” Bianca tried to suppress her smile, but dimples poked through anyway.
“I knooow, right?”
Australian. Bianca winced. Surely this was some kind of karmic justice for a terrible deed she’d done as a child. After all, there was no way in hell that Bianca would get involved with one of her roommates. She was many things, but she was not that messy.
“So, are you gonna tell us your name?” Courtney asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Bianca. Hi.”
“Hi, Bianca, nice to meet you.”
God, even the way she said her name was sexy. Bee-aaaahn-cah. Ugh. Bianca was well and truly fucked.
“Hey, I’m Willam,” Slutty Blonde said, perching on the arm of the sofa. “And that’s Alaska...your roommate. You should be nicer to her; she’s cool.”
Duvet Blonde gave a halfhearted wave.
“Hi, Alaska,” Bianca said, slightly chagrined, “I’m sorry...about your lack of taste. We’ll work on it.”
Courtney giggled again, tossing her hair, still watching Bianca closely. And as much as she wanted to look away, to dismiss her as some airhead, she had to admit that something in her eyes was captivating.
“So, Bianca...where are you from?” Courtney asked.
“New Orleans,” Bianca told her.
“Oooh, have you ever been to Mardi Gras?!” she asked, eyes lighting up.
“Uhh. Yeah.”
“Did you bring us any beads?”
“Why not get out your tits and see, Court?” Willam suggested.
Courtney started to lift the edge of her shirt, and Bianca’s eyes went wide--this girl was turning out to be a lot more than she’d bargained for. Courtney glanced at her surprised face and burst out laughing again.
“Just kidding.”
“Good one,” Bianca offered, a little ashamed at the flash of disappointment she felt. Of course she was kidding; Bianca needed a cold shower.  
“So, are you a new student here?” Courtney asked.
“Yeah.” Bianca cleared her throat. “I transferred from LSU.”
“Where’s that?”
“Louisiana...State...University,” Bianca explained slowly, as if she was talking to a child. Her tone was intentionally condescending, but Courtney continued her rapid-fire questions undeterred.
“Ah! Brilliant. And have you-”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Bianca said. She’d never experienced that many questions in a row, and considering her gigantic nosy-ass family, that was saying a lot. If she wasn’t so cute, Bianca would be thoroughly irritated.  
“Sure does,” Willam added with an eye roll.
“Oh yeah. I know. Is it annoying you?” Courtney bit her lip, head tilted cutely.
“That’s another question,” Bianca declared stonily, pretending once again not to be charmed. And doing a piss-poor job of it, if the glimmer in Courtney’s eyes was any indication.
“Hmm, I guess it is,” Courtney said, tone lilting and gently mocking. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get to know you.”
“Maybe I should ask you some questions.”  
“Maybe you should!” Courtney replied brightly. She stretched her legs--long, tan, killer legs--placing them on the coffee table and folding them delicately at the ankles. “What would you like to know?”
Do you moan in an Australian accent?
Bianca coughed, mind blanking for a moment, before admitting with a shrug, “I guess...I’m not very curious.”
“Pity. ‘Cause I’m an open book.”
“Uh. Good to know.” After a beat, Bianca offered, “So. I had kind of a shitty morning.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Courtney sat up straighter, the teasing smirk replaced with an expression of genuine concern. “Are you okay?”
“It’s fine, I just...I was actually about to jump in the shower. I’ll probably be in a better mood after that.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Willam, and Alaska let out a clipped laugh.
“I deserved that,” Bianca said with a nod and wry smile. “So I guess I’ll go...do that.”
With one last glance at the group, Bianca got up and walked towards her bedroom to get her things.
“What a cunt,” Willam said loudly--loud enough that Bianca knew it was for her benefit. She chuckled to herself.
“Bill!” Courtney scolded, then added, “I like her.”
“Clearly. Why don’t you go make my bed?”
“Make your own bed, dickhead!” Courtney shrieked.
The shower was much needed. Bianca could feel the stress of the day literally rinsing away, muscles relaxing in the steamy water. When she re-entered her bedroom, Alaska was lounging on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She sat down at her desk, pulling over a light-up mirror.
She took her time blow-drying her hair. Even put on some makeup. No reason not to look nice for a relaxing afternoon of getting to know her roommates, right? She pulled on a casual summer dress and sandals and then began to put everything away in its spot...blow dryer in the stackable basket with her curling iron, makeup in the case, brushes in the cup.
She turned around to Alaska, who gave her a smile.
“I like your bins,” Alaska commented, gesturing to Bianca’s compulsively organized and labeled plastic bins, lined up under her bed and stacked on the dresser.
“Thanks. And I like your...uh…” Bianca surveyed the mess on Alaska’s side of the room before settling on the word, “...piles.”
Alaska let out a loud cackle. The most Bianca had seen her laugh yet. She grinned wryly.
“I’m a little bit messy, sorry,” Alaska said.
“It’s cool,” Bianca shrugged. “To each their own.”
“I’ll keep it contained, I swear. And on my side of the room.”
“You fucking better!” Bianca exclaimed, and was rewarded with another laugh from her roommate.
***
Courtney didn’t like to admit it, but she’d had a bit of a lonely summer. She’d decided with her parents that, since she wanted to come home for Christmas again this year, it made more sense for her to stay at school, taking a few classes and working at an internship.
It usually wasn’t hard for Courtney to make friends, but somehow, she hadn’t connected with anyone. Her classmates seemed lovely, and her coworkers were nice enough too, but she missed the late-night gossiping with Willam, the chance to let loose and be silly. The girls she attempted to hang out with over the summer just weren’t the kind of unpredictable fun that Willam was. And her summer roommate was a reclusive Belgian girl who spent all of her time buried in her laptop wearing headphones.
But today, she was thrilled. Willam was finally back, and even better, she had two new fantastically wonderful roommates.
Alaska was great. A little reserved, maybe, but that was alright with Courtney. She had a great sense of humor and a genuinely kind soul that Courtney adored right away. Plus, she seemed to get along really well with Willam, which was a relief. (Courtney loved her BFF, but she knew that getting her seal of approval could be difficult.)
And then there was Bianca. Blunt and a bit abrasive, but Courtney found herself thoroughly enchanted almost immediately, reveling in her sharp wit and acid tongue. Her dark, flashing eyes. She was unlike anyone Courtney had ever met before, truth be told.
As Courtney helped Willam stuff her clothes into the closet and dresser and arrange her shoes and bags under the bed, she sighed happily, grateful to be surrounded by people with whom she could really let down her hair.
It took ages before Willam was satisfied. Well, not so much satisfied as much as resigned to accept the confines of their limited space. She turned to Courtney with a sigh, saying, “Well, it is what it is, I guess.”
Courtney laughed and suggested that they check on the others, skipping happily over to Bianca and Alaska’s open door. She pushed it in further, asking, “How are you ladies doing? Bonding?”
“Oh yeah,” Bianca said, turning around in her desk chair, large curling iron in hand. “Our periods are already in sync.”
Alaska laughed, and Courtney was glad to see that some of her earlier tension had melted away.
“How disgustingly primal,” Willam said, collapsing on the bed next to Alaska, who moved over to give her space.
Courtney settled on the floor nearby. She watched as Bianca carefully styled her hair, admiring the color—a rich, reddish mahogany brown—and wondering how she got it so shiny.
“Is your room bigger than ours?” Willa asked, pulling Courtney out of her thoughts as she looked around suspiciously.
“I don’t know. Is it?” Bianca asked.
“Bill’s pretty pissed about the closet space,” Courtney explained. “I gave her one of my drawers, but…” She shrugged, pulling affectionately on one of Willam’s bare feet, “Some people are just never satisfied.”
“I have an extra drawer, too,” Alaska offered, and Bianca’s eyebrows shot up.
“You sure you don’t want to use that for some of the stuff that’s…” she gestured to the top of Alaska’s dresser.
Looking at their spaces, Courtney could see a clear clash of styles. Bianca’s things were almost obsessively organized, lined up in containers with p-touch labels. Alaska’s side of the room was more haphazard, similar to Courtney’s space.
“Nah, she can have it,” Alaska said with a sweet smile, and Bianca responded by sticking out her tongue briefly.
Courtney giggled, seeing them tease each other, happy that they already seemed to be friends. She relaxed against Alaska’s desk chair, finally content to just let the conversation drift as it were, taking a break from her usual Oprah mode.
“So...not to be a wet blanket on all this delightful female bonding, but...where can a bitch find some decent vegetarian food around here?” Bianca asked, putting away her hairstyling tools and turning around.
“You’re hungry?” Courtney looked up at her.
“No, just thought I’d buy some food and throw it at seagulls. Yes, I’m fucking hungry.”
Through Courtney’s immediate laughter, Willam muttered, “Decent shit is mostly downtown...but edible? There’s the cafeteria next door, the salad bar over by the biology building, food court in the quad, the-”
“No, Bill,” Courtney giggled out with a weak swat at Willam’s leg. “Let’s get something different. Something better.” She decided not to add ‘for Bianca.’
Willam rolled her eyes and huffed out, “Fine then, cunt. Where do you suggest we eat?”
There was a moment’s pause as Courtney pondered over the question before thoughtfully looking up at Bianca, asking, “Do you like burritos?”
“Wow. That’s racist.”
“No, it’s not because you’re--I didn’t mean--it’s just that they’re really good and you said-” Courtney tripped all over herself to explain, flustered, cheeks growing hot. Shit, she hoped she hadn’t been offensive.
After a beat, Bianca burst out laughing.
“I was kidding, calm down. Burritos sound good.”
“Courtney, are you talking about that hole in the wall on Fair Oaks? We’ll have to take a car.”
“It’s good, and they have tons of veggie options, and you love driving,” Courtney insisted. “Plus, everything on campus will be chockers right now.”
“‘Chockers’?!” Willam repeated. “That’s so Aussie!”
“Packed, full, whatever, you know I’m right.”
“Ugh. Alright,” Willam groaned, then asked, “Alaska? You in?”
“Uh, I’m not really all that hungry,” Alaska said. “You guys should go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”
“Oh no!” Courtney leapt to her feet. “Do you need something? I have magnesium supplements. Or, vitamin b-complex. That’s great for headaches!”
“Or, if you want something that actually works, I got Tylenol and Advil…” Bianca gestured to one of her boxes.
“I’ve got Vicodin,” Willam added. “And weed.”
“Thanks guys, but I think I just need to lay down for awhile.”
“Okay, we’ll leave you alone. Let us know if you want us to bring you back any food,” Courtney offered.
“Thanks.”
As the group trooped out of the room, Bianca grabbed her purse and then slung an arm around Courtney’s shoulder, asking, “Magnesium supplements?”
“My dad’s a doctor of alternative medicine,” Courtney giggled.
“Well, that tracks…”
***
By the time they perched on the rickety stools at the burrito place, Bianca was beyond starving. She dug into her food with a passion as Courtney resumed her questioning from earlier.
“Sooo,” she began, drawing out the word in that infuriatingly adorable Australian way, “You said that you transferred from Louisiana, right? What brings you out here?”
“Well, I’m majoring in marketing and international relations, and they have this scholarship that combines-”
“You’re an Ashford Scholar?!” Courtney exclaimed, eyes widening dramatically.
Bianca couldn’t help be a bit pleased with herself, happy that the prestigious scholarship was known even beyond the business school. Courtney was clearly impressed, and so she gave a small shrug of faux modesty.
“That’s amazing, that’s really...you know only 1 person a year gets that, right?” Courtney asked.
Bianca nodded and swallowed, then said, “Can’t wait to meet last year’s bitch. I assume they’re extraordinary too.”
Courtney giggled, resting her cheek on her hand. “So I guess that means you’re gonna have a lot of work to do. I heard those Ashford internships are seriously intense.”
“I’ll manage…”
Though her answer sounded nonchalant, she was enjoying Courtney’s obvious respect for her accomplishment. Her eyes practically glimmered in admiration.
“What about you, dollface?” Bianca asked. “What’s your major? Psychology?”
“No...although actually I did consider that!” Courtney said.
“Shocking.”
Courtney giggled, crunching down on a chip and saying, “I’m doing PoliSci.”
“Oh, cool.”
“Yeah…” she leaned in and stage whispered, “Your political system here is absolutely up the shit.”
Bianca laughed, not entirely familiar with that expression but getting the gist. She was about to agree when Willam interrupted her thoughts.
“That’s so Aussie!” Willam said, mouth muffled with food.
She assumed that was some kind of inside joke, but found herself unconcerned with being left out. What was more troubling was that until that moment, she’d temporarily forgotten that Willam was even there. She could already tell that it was a problem...how enchanting her new roommate was. Not to mention beautiful. The more Bianca looked into Courtney’s face, the more captivated she became. She cleared her throat, forcing her attention to Willam, who was working her way through a steak burrito bowl. Bianca nudged her foot.
“What’s your major, then?”
She expected a proud, boastful response but instead, there was just further silence. Conversation dropped dead for a few moments before Courtney chimed in softly with, “She doesn’t have a major yet...She’s still undeclared.”
“What?” Bianca exclaimed in amazement as a hint of pink rose to Willam’s cheeks despite her stony expression. “How can you still be undeclared? What year are you in?”
“Third,” Willam answered tensely, “And it's not that unusual. I just haven’t found the right thing yet, okay?”
If it wasn’t clear before that this was a touchy subject, the little huff at the end of her defense made it painfully obvious.
“Okay, well...cool.” Bianca grimaced awkwardly. Served her right for trying her hand at some Courtney-esque interview questions. She racked her brain for a lighter topic of conversation. “So...what do you guys...do for fun?”
“Shop,” Willam answered decisively.
“Oh! You know what we should do!” Courtney exclaimed brightly. “We should go to Cielo Plaza tomorrow!”
“What’s that?” Bianca asked, relieved that the subject change had worked.
“A mall,” Willam answered. “It’s no King of Prussia but there are a few good stores in there.”
Bianca wasn’t sure what the fuck “King of Prussia” was, but Courtney breezed right past it, happily pitching how great the activity would be.
“Yeah! And it’s so cute. We could have lunch, find some more decorations for the apartment, get some new clothes-”
“Should ask Alaska if she wants to come too,” Willam said, continuing to speak through mouthfuls of food.
“Of course!” Courtney enthused. “And then Saturday, we could go to the beach! Do you like the beach?”
Bianca did not like the beach. Sand in her asscrack was the last thing she wanted. But the idea of seeing Courtney in a bathing suit was pretty appealing…
“Love the beach,” she said with a smile.  
“Great!” Courtney leaned back proudly.
“So, uh…what about nighttime fun?” Bianca’s eyes flickered unconsciously to Courtney’s glossy lips, the way her tongue toyed with the straw, before quickly adding, “Any good clubs?”
“We’re underage,” Courtney said sweetly.
“Oh, right.” Bianca turned to Willam. “Come on. I know you’ve got a fake ID. Where do you go?”
A secretive, almost mischievous smile spread across Willam’s lips as her eyes narrowed in on Bianca consideringly. There was a confident, daring tone in her voice as she responded with a simple, “Depends.”
Arching her brow, egging her on, Bianca shot back, “On?”
Willam’s smile grew just a little wider as answered, “On what your type of scene is.”
Fully catching onto the joke that had gone over Courtney’s head, Bianca sat back in her seat, arms crossed with an amused grin of her own and asked, “What do you think it is?”
There was a loaded pause as the two stared one another down. Courtney’s eyes darted back and forth in confusion, looking absolutely lost.
Finally, after what felt like a decade of waiting, Willam broke the silence of the group and replied almost smugly, “I think you'll be right at home in Sierra's.”
“Willam!” Courtney scolded harshly as she gave her friend a firm smack to the arm. Turning a bright shade of pink, she turned to Bianca and apologized, lowing her voice, “I'm sorry, that...that's a gay bar.”
The way her voice had dipped into such a low whisper had Bianca laughing on the spot. As soon as she managed to get ahold of herself, she inquired with amusement, “So? What’s wrong with gay bars?”
Stunned, Courtney blinked several times before finding her voice again. “Nothing! That’s not what I-it’s not that there’s anything wrong, she just shouldn’t assume...I mean, if you’re okay with it, then-”
“Well, it’s probably gonna be my best bet at getting laid,” came the nonchalant answer.
Looking rather pleased with herself, Willam piped back up for affirmation, “So you are...?”
Nodding her head, Bianca confirmed, “Mh-mm...And what about you? Casual observer or part of the family?”
“I mean...if that's what I'm in the mood for, yeah.”
“Makes sense,” Bianca quipped as her brow arched, “You do seem like the ‘take it anywhere you can get it’ type.”
The comment earned a loud laugh, one distinct enough to draw the attention of nearly everyone else in the shop. Despite the onlookers, Willam reassured her with a playful grin, “Trust me bitch, it’s not that hard to get it around here...”
“Sounds promising,” Bianca replied before turning back to Courtney, “You alright, dollface? You’ve been awfully quiet over here.”
Stumbling to collect herself, Courtney found herself mumbling, “Oh...um, no. I mean, yeah, I'm not-I mean-”
“Court is straight,” Willam said, saving her from stammering any longer.  
“You don’t say,” Bianca said, trying to sound like she’d known all along. Secretly though, she was a bit surprised. She could have sworn that the blonde had been giving her vibes all day. Well...too bad. Karmic justice, indeed. With a sly sideways glance at her, Bianca clucked, “Pity.”  
Snorting through her laughter, Willam shook her head and said, “Yeah, you wish, bitch. But that pussy’s a boys club.”
“Bill!” Courtney wrinkled her nose in distaste.
Bianca shook her head sadly, asking, “So...you’ve never even been eaten out by someone who actually knows what the hell they're doing down there?”
“Hey! Men can learn!” Courtney exclaimed defensively, then a tiny conspiratorial grin crept onto her face and she admitted, “I mean...hypothetically.”
Bianca burst into cackling laughter.
“Oh, you poor baby,” she cooed, still giggling, slipping an arm around Courtney’s shoulders. Courtney turned to her with a look of good-natured self-pity, lower lip puffed out, batting her lashes slowly for comedic effect.
The more Bianca thought about it, the more she realized that there was something a bit freeing about Courtney being straight. She was straight. There were lines that would never be crossed, ever. So it meant she was safe to flirt and have fun and it would never make her living situation complicated.
Win win, right?
Bianca looked into Courtney’s sparkling green eyes one last time before removing the arm from her shoulder, chuckles dying down.
***
Bianca suggested a stop at the grocery store on the way home, which Courtney realized was a great idea, since she had barely anything stocked, having chosen to eat most of her meals for the past few days in the cafeteria by their building.
Plus, she didn’t mind at all that they were extending their outing, finding Bianca to be both hilarious and fascinating. While Willam was occupied on her phone, Courtney hopped into the cart, beaming up at Bianca.
“Uh, I’m sorry, are your legs broken?” Bianca asked pointedly.
“Come on, please?! I wanna riiiiide,” she wheedled, and Bianca smirked at her.
“Oh, I can give you a ride.”
Courtney bit her lip, both hating and loving the way her stomach twisted every time she looked into Bianca’s brown eyes. It was thrilling, but also terrifying, like being on a rollercoaster--and Courtney loved rollercoasters. She was still a bit miffed at Willam for so adamantly proclaiming her straightness earlier, though she couldn’t really say why. It was true, of course, she was straight, but the way Willam said it so definitively was annoying, especially since she’d only just found out that Bianca was gay moments before.
All Courtney did know, for sure, was that she was having fun, so she decided just to enjoy herself and not stress about it.
They sped through the store, picking up pantry staples and some produce for the next couple of days, along with a few treats that Courtney insisted on...coconut water, dates, kale chips. Bianca pretended to be disgusted by all of it.
At one point, in the freezer aisle, Courtney found herself gazing up at Bianca, admiring again how thick and shiny her hair was. When Bianca leaned over the cart to toss in a package of frozen peas, Courtney reached up, fingering a lock gently.
“Is that your real hair color?” she asked.
“No,” Bianca said, “Not even close. Why, is that your real hair color?” She reached out, unceremoniously ruffling Courtney’s hair.
Courtney ducked and giggled, saying, “Almost! It’s...slightly enhanced.”
A wicked look passed across Bianca’s face as she said, “You know, there’s a way to check that.”
“Eyebrows?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering innocently.
Bianca cackled gleefully, dark eyes dancing with joy, and said, “Yeah, eyebrows. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
Courtney bit her lip, feeling a surge of pride at making someone as funny as Bianca laugh so hard.
They were almost to the check-out when an employee asked tiredly for her to please get out of the cart.
“Oh yeah, sorry!” she said, scrambling to get up.
“Need a hand?” Bianca asked.
“Thanks.” Courtney let Bianca help her out, one hand holding the cart steady and the other on her waist. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she jumped down and found herself chest to chest with Bianca, close enough to smell her perfume, which was lovely--warm and smoky. It made Courtney want to lean in closer...
“Let’s go!” Willam screeched, slamming the cart into their legs.
“Soz Bill!” Courtney snapped out of her daze and headed for the registers, making sure to snatch a few bars of dark chocolate on the way, chuckling slightly at Willam’s mumbled “that’s so Aussie.”
It was still early when they got back to the apartment, and Courtney was too riled up to sleep, so she suggested opening a bottle of the wine that Bianca bought. Alaska was dozing, so they left her in peace while the three of them sat around Courtney and Willam’s room and chatted for a few more hours. They shared stories about their childhoods and families, generally getting to know each other--at least until Bianca’s eyelids began to look heavy and they sent her off to bed.
As Courtney finally snuggled down into her comforter, lightly buzzed and perfectly content, her last thought was how lucky she was, how wonderful her roommates were, how life-changingly amazing this year promised to be.
14 notes · View notes
mocharoll · 5 years
Text
Anders x F!Hawke Warm Fluff
You know the deal; d o r k s. 
I actually didn’t write this one in a disheveled chaotic state, but step by step in a way that resembles organized work. I’m pretty proud! 
Link to ao3. Hop on and say hi!💜 It’s not smol, but I hope it’ll lift your spirits.
(Heads up: brief sexual content)
----
Feast for Cheerful Hearts
Her father told, or rather showed, Marian long ago, that happiness was present in even the littlest of moments, and that one should cherish it whenever and wherever it was found. Don’t think about that lousy kid that kicked your shin any longer; he apologized, did he not? And you apologized to him and his mum for setting his hair on fire because you felt just as bad as him, didn’t you? Things like this can happen, Marian- moments like this can take a toll on us all regardless of your age, and it can make you feel really bad for some time, but time will pass and leave it all behind you, and when you look forward, you’ll find that everything’s just the way it was meant to be. It’s just up to you to see it, honey. The sun will still be warm and bright, the birds will still be singing, and.. the wind will still throw your hair right into your face. Oh, Maker. Let me help you with that, hm? There you go, dear. Well, at least you’re laughing now!
And she did, sighing at the memory that warmed her heart and burned gently at the corners of her eyes. She cancelled out the faint white noise of her waking thoughts to let her senses expand and cover the whole room. She felt the stillness of the crimson curtains covering the afternoon sun and how they fluttered with the occasional burst of wind, the warm red hue shining through, and the silence around them, interrupted only by their soft breathing. She felt Anders’ warm body beneath her, the trickle of hair between her fingertips, his heartbeat that matched hers and the rise and fall of her head with the force of his chest. She smiled, hugged his body closer to her, and closed her eyes. After a moment she felt his chest move with a deep breath and the arm that was wrapped around her waist stir.
“Hey.” She mumbled sleepily, untangled her legs from his and stretched them.
“Hey.” She could hear the smile in his whisper. She met his half-lidded gaze and his grin, warm and bright, brushing her wild hair out of her eyes and behind her ear.
“What time is it?”
Anders turned and looked at the window thoughtfully. “Well the sun’s not shining right into our faces anymore, so..”
“Afternoon.” They said in unison, their voices tinged with slight annoyance, but they were too sleepy and content to really mean it, and Marian continued tracing spirals down his chest after that short pause.
“How long have you been awake?”
He kissed the top of her head before laying his head back. “For a while,” he admitted, “but I’m not supposed to be in the clinic until the evening.” He opened one eye to peek at her. “Not that I would have dared to move, anyways.”
She laughed and pecked his cheek. “Appreciated.” He hummed happily. She found the deeper scars that haven’t yet healed despite his magic, fingertips wavering there with unvoiced concern. He sensed it, because of course he would and he always did, and he laid his other hand on hers, holding it reassuringly.
“I love you.” she whispered.
“I’m hungry.”
A second passed, then another, and then another as Marian froze, wide-eyed. She snapped her head up to look at Anders whose face was completely straight except for a raised an eyebrow, and the second she did she doubled over, burying her face in his chest and shaking with breathless laughter.
“See how that feels?!”
Hawke replied with a deep breath and a laugh that was more like a scream than anything else.
“Andraste’s ass Marian, my ears!” Anders’ yell was so desperate that it just made Hawke laugh harder, and it wasn’t long before they were both a laughing, silly mess. They held onto each other until they recovered, sneaking kisses where it would tickle the most to wring out just a little more laughter from the other. Anders caught the last bit of her chuckle with a kiss, feeling its vibration move from her mouth to his, and grinned into her lips when it trailed off into a moan. The kiss was sweet and slow, peppered with soft smiles and lazy pecks, at least until her hand travelled down further to the sharp dip of his navel, following the light trail of hair downwards. She felt Anders breathe sharply and deepen the kiss, their tongues brushing through their tangled lips and heavy breaths. Hawke wrapped her leg around him, waited for his hand to land on her hip to give her a little push and turned, straddling him. She felt the deep rumble of his groan when she lifted her hips and rolled them to brush against him. His hold on her tightened and he gently dragged his nails down her back, not too soft as to tickle, but sharp enough to make her need to break the kiss to moan. He caressed the light markings to soothe them, and looked at her with warm, darkened eyes.
“I love you, too,” he smirked, “but I am hungry.”
“Yeah,” Hawke nodded hazily.  “Me too.”
“It can wait?”
“It can wait.”
She lowered herself on her hands and he propped himself up with his elbows so their lips crushed back together, scorching heat rushing down to their groins from the pressure of their bodies and releasing a low groan from both. Hawke’s kisses travelled down from his lips, to his jaw, to the crook of his neck. She could feel his rising heartbeat ripple through, and she breathed in the earthy smell of rain and home radiating from his warmth. She gently squeezed the tender skin between her lips with a rough, wet kiss right as she’d rolled her hips that made him arch his back and make a desperate sound between a yelp and a moan. She couldn’t revel in the sound she so adored for long though, nor could he roll his hips from beneath her as his hand lingered on her breasts, because they heard a call from downstairs that made them jolt upright with instinct.
“Marie? Are you awake yet honey?”
“Uh,” she cleared her throat, trying so so hard not to laugh at Anders’ expression. “Yeah, mum! I’ll be down in.. just a minute.” At least she sounded like she wasn’t halfway up the stairs.
“Alright, dear, take your time,” Her mum said softly, but it did nothing to ease Anders’ worry. He just stared at the door, looking absolutely horrified before turning slowly to her and gesturing wildly at his ear and whispered “She bloody heard us!”
Marian snorted at him and whispered back. “Calm thine tits, blondie. It’s just mum.” Anders changed colour. Hawke suspected that her attempt to reassure him had exactly the opposite effect.
“Orana and I also prepared some lunch, if you’re interested. You must be starving.” Her mum inquired after a short pause.
“Yes to both of those.”
“That’s what I thought.” Marian couldn’t hear her sigh, but she didn’t need to, because she knew she had. “Well, let me know when you’re coming down so we can prepare the table.”
She glanced at Anders, who was covering his eyes behind his hands. “Gimme five minutes?” Anders sobbed.
“Alright, honey.” They listened to the sound of receeding footsteps echoing on stone stairs until they couldn’t hear them any longer.
Marian let out a relieved sigh and slumped back. “That could have gone way worse.”
“Worse?” Anders muttered from behind his hands. “How am I supposed to go outside in less than five minutes?”
“Marian rolled away from him, plopped on the edge of the bed and shrugged.
“You won’t.”
Anders snapped his head up with lightning speed, his blond hair wooshing back and sticking to his forehead unceremoniously. He narrowed his eyes. “No…”
“Anders, darling,” Hawke held his shoulder. “It’s time.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging.
[Wha- Did she just call me-.. No no no. No. Anders. Focus. You can freak out once you’re out of this mess. I swear, how you’re even still alive is beyond me.]  
“Oh come on. This was going to happen sooner or later,” she nudged the side of his chest with her elbow. “and I thought you wanted to meet her.”
Anders pouted and absently rubbed at where she’d poked him. “I do, just…” he gestured at himself, “Not like this, where there’s a high probability of her having heard the awfully charming noises I was making.”
Marian laughed, which made him smile as well. He noticed that he’d smiled more in the last few months than he had in almost ten years. Despite all that Justice stood for and the deepening lines around his mouth and eyes, he found himself not minding at all. Reminded him of life.
“To be honest, I think she’s already figured that you’ve been staying the night for the last couple of weeks.. And no I didn’t say anything,” she snorted when his face blanched again, “it’s just that she’s…” she lifted her arms and shrugged in amused defeat, “well, she’s my mum, Anders. She knows more about me than I probably ever will.”
“That… is fair.” Anders huffed, but his smile hadn’t gone away. Not that he ever wanted it to.
“So it’s better if we started getting ready, right about now.”
“Hm? Oh. Yeah.” Anders straightened and sat up on the bed when he heard the urgency and slight panic in Hawke’s voice that emerged none too often, except in moments of impending doom, when they were seconds away from certain death or… well, whatever this was. He grabbed Hawke’s outstretched hand and hauled himself out of the bed, a ball made up of his clothes following close behind him and hitting his ass with a soft thump. He caught it before it fell.
“Nice one.” Marian nodded appraisingly, pausing her struggle to put on a sock and her robe at the same time while hopping on one foot. Anders bowed, gesturing grandly with his rumpled robes before working to untangle it.
“Oh and, sweetie?” her mother called again.
They froze. Anders with his head halfway through his robe and Hawke with one foot up in the air.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to go and get some things at the market the next time you go there; we used everything left in storage so they wouldn’t go bad, so you might want to bring a friend or else we’ll hardly finish it all.”
Marian barely stifled her laugh. “Sure thing.”
“Love you!”
“Love you, too.” Her mum went away, and Marian finally set her foot down and Anders managed to pull his head through the robe. They shared a look.
“Told you.”
Anders held his hands up, grinning. “You did.”
“And however much I love your sex hair it’s… best if we don’t actively try and present it to my mother.” Anders had already begun to ruffle his hair to be as family friendly as possible halfway through the sentence. Hawke laughed and wrapped her arms around him when he finally looked up, kissing him. Anders held her back. This is what I’m fighting for, he realised.
“You alright?” Marian half-whispered, looking up at his eyes to get a glimpse of his thought process, because she’d felt his grip on her tighten like it did when he was nervous. The worry sneaking up in her chest slinked away when he smiled at her brightly, gentle* crow’s feet forming at the corners of his eyes.
“Definitely.” He nodded, then paused in mock-hesitation. “Maybe…” Marian raised an eyebrow.
“Anders...”
He chuckled. “I’m fine, love. Really.” He held her shoulders and looked down into her eyes so she could see it. “I do want to meet your mother and I’m glad you think I’m worth introducing.”
“Anders, I…” she cupped his head with her hands. “You mean so much to me and…” her breath shook and she hugged him tight. “Maker, of course you are.”  
“As you do to me, love.” He kissed the top of her head and breathed deeply. “More than you could ever imagine.”
“Then you’re staying for lunch?”
He pulled back and flashed her a grin. “Of course.”
“Are you sure?” she raised her eyebrows comically. “Cause I’m pretty sure one of our dear friends will catch word of all that food and raid the house if we don’t go down there.”
“Point taken.” Anders gave her a final smooch then offered his arm. “Shall we?”
“Anders, I’m dying here. We’re running.”
“Wait what-!” He applauded himself for a moment for even managing to say and/or shriek that much before he got cut off by Marian rushing towards the door, half dragging him with her. He reached for the handle since he was closer, but before he could touch it Hawke kicked the doors open with her foot.
“Nice form, sweetheart.”
“You know it, blondie.”
“Ugh… You think that nickname would leave me when Varri-“
“Anders.” Hawke glared. “Food.”
“Right.”
And they marched off, their laughter echoing through the halls, spilling through the curtained windows and into the grey Kirkwall sky.
6 notes · View notes
ambivalentangst · 7 years
Text
Face to Face (1/?)
Alright so basically I got this au where Lance is really really good at reading people's faces and emotion which makes him some sort of weird prodigy and it freaks people out because he's like eerily good at observing things like that so the Garrison snatches him up to work for the government, in exchange for paying for his tuition and extra money. Cue Lance blasting off to space and using his ability that he's largely kept secret because he's kind of fascinating to doctors and the like and it's just easier that way. I plan to make this a short fic, and it'll go up on ao3 too! Anyways, here's part one which is kind of like a prologue, so I hope this gets a good reaction and yeah let's do it - Lance had always liked people. Had always been an outgoing kid, running up to strangers with the biggest gap toothed smile he could possibly put on his face. It was how he’d met Hunk, on the playground in Kindergarten. Hunk was used to being pushed around for his size, but Lance had said a few words to the boys who’d pushed him down and as they ran off he offered a hand to the boy and dusted the wood chips off his back. “I’m Lance, your new friend!” he announced, and that was that. Hunk had never had to deal with bullies again, even if Lance’s different plans to dig a hole to the center of the Earth got him dirtier than the wood chips. Despite the fact that Lance was only a child, it soon became obvious that Lance’s talent with people was more than just being a social butterfly. Lance had sat in a medical office, watching the crease between his doctor’s eyes and the way his eyes flickered to him with interest. He wondered if he’d spilled something on his shirt, because he could tell something about him fascinated the doctor, and he wanted to see more of him. Lance’s right brain was discovered to be exceptionally advanced. In particular, his abilities with facial recognition. At the ripe age of six and likely quite a while before it was officially discovered, Lance had enough knowledge of the face to have abilities almost akin to being psychic. They couldn’t decide what to call him. Genius, virtuoso, prodigy, were all used. The littlest things, a twitch of the lips or the way one cast their eyes could tell him eery amounts of information about whoever he observed. For example, Lance wasn’t quite sure what the whole ordeal was about, but as he saw his doctor hand the file to his receptionist an arch to her brow exposed that there was a secret there. He mentioned his speculations to his mother on the drive home and she nearly spat out her drink. The first doctor’s visit was far from his last. He was poked, prodded at, tested time and time again. Each time, he did not falter. People were easy. He fit in, cracked jokes while psychologists and professors scribbled down every word he said. As Lance grew older, his knowledge of the world expanded. He’d always liked staring at the stars, and he latched onto that. Still, his appointments persisted and he soon realized he had anyone who’s face he could see in the palm of his hand. What he could tell about people became more accurate, in a very unsettling way. Then he started to use it to his advantage. The doctors had been convincing his parents for years to keep bringing him to appointments (free of charge, free of charge, they reassured them as they studied Lance like a lab rat) for his well being. Lance never told his parents how they cared for little more than things like the thesis that one intern was writing, or the possibilities of employing him in areas of the world like the justice system, or politics. Instead, he milked their interest endlessly. It was the least he could do, after spending years being their little project. So, he convinced one to pay his family’s mortgage for the month, if he answered a specific line up of questions. Another for a few thousand dollars he put towards the hospital bill from the time his older brother broke his arm, in exchange for letting him do a special procedure he’d been working on. Lance was growing more and more sought after in the scientific world, despite that because he was a minor his identity had to be kept under wraps. Even in the face of his anonymity, the Garrison managed to track him down. The boy from Cuba who could stare at any face in the world and see what they were thinking, or at least a very good shot of it. The American government funded Lance’s education, and then some. Lance stopped indulging his doctors almost immediately, packing his bag and heading for the land of dreams.
61 notes · View notes
blushoseoks · 7 years
Text
HANGING BY A MOMENT
His favorite things are the summers, because that's when you return from boarding school, and his life becomes a lot more bright and a lot less dull.
Tumblr media
“friendship can be an excuse. a cover for when there’s something there you don’t want to admit or you’re too scared to explore.” - gossip girl
pairing: park jimin x reader  words: 8,653 genre: skinny!love,   warnings: mature themes, slight angst before: alright, so please keep in mind that this is the first oneshot I have ever written, therefore please don’t be too harsh on me. I hope I get better in time. I received two Jimin requests and decided to combine them both into one. any who, I hope this is somewhat tolerable! I apologize in advance.
Jimin's not sure when it began.
As he watches you dance with a very inebriated yet still somehow skillful Hoseok, who insists on being a little too touchy with you (at least in Jimin's opinion) it's all that seems to cross his mind.
That, and the thought of how badly he wants to remove Hoseok from the current situation and instead replace the older with himself.
You both are dancing to the slower version of one of your favorite songs, one that's permanently etched in Jimin's mind because of your refusal to listen to anything else but the damn song the entire summer break of last year.
“Pilgrims,” by Johnny Lloyd is what's playing from the beaten up stereo Taehyung insists still works, even though the voice comes out stat-icky and very much muffled. And as Johnny repeats the verse of, “It's late, and I know, I'll never love somebody like you.” You and Hoseok point both of your pointer fingers in each others general direction, a wide smile curving upwards at the corners of your lips as a laugh erupts from your throat.
Jimin can't tell if you've had anything to drink or not, because even in your normal state you're always this outgoing, always this charismatic. And he can't quite tell if it's the moonlight causing your skin to glow, or if it's just you in general.
He wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter, though, because in his mind you're just that ethereal.
Hoseok takes your hand in his much larger one, lifts his arm upwards and waits for you to twirl under. Which you do a few times, before Hoseok pulls you into a very close and tight embrace, your back to his front, his chin nuzzled in the crook of your neck.
And little do you know that the small action makes Jimin's heart feel like it's being grabbed and squeezed until it turns into nothing but little tiny pieces.
You're not dressed up, but Jimin still thinks you look beautiful.
You're wearing a tshirt, one too large, the hem ending a few inches before it reaches your kneecaps. Large hoop earrings piercing through one of the sets of holes in your ear, and your black hair is pulled up into an effortless pony tail, your makeup is scarce, and your black boots are long enough to surpass your knees and reach the hem of your shirt.
You, Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin are once again at the only place in the entire town that isn't infested with kid's, the only place in town besides boring house parties, and too expensive movies, that is a source of entertainment for the teens who live in Busan.
The rest of your friend group consisting of: Jungkook, Namjoon, and Yoongi, were far too busy to make it to your guy's regular Saturday night tradition that dwelt of: going to the cliffs that were named KINGSLEIGH'S, listening to music, drinking and occasionally smoking pot, depending whether or not Taehyung had come into possession of some weed. And much to Jimin's disappointment he just so happened to not on this particular night. Leaving Jimin with no choice but to drown his sorrows in a bottle of beer, when he'd much rather prefer weed. He disliked alcohol, but hell if he was going to watch Hoseok and you dance sober.
Jimin really isn't sure when it began, the unmistakable feelings he has for you. He would like to classify them as a small crush, but the said feelings had yet to disappear and it had been more than one summer since they developed. Now, that he thinks it through it wouldn't surprise him to find out that he's had the littlest bit of a crush on you since the day his eyes landed on perfection personified in human form going by your name.
He remembers it clearly, seeing you for the first time. It almost took him by surprise when Taehyung had told him that he had a sister, if it wasn't for the pictures of you framed in family photographs, or the yearly ones taken and sent to the family, then he wouldn't have believed it.
“Mom says you can't stay long tonight, since my sister is arriving home today, but you should be good to come back tomorrow or sometime.” Taehyung had stated, and all Jimin had done was nod his head in understanding.
It was seconds after he left the house, when you arrived home for the summer. He had just walked out of the front door, when a car he instantly recognized as Taehyung's father's pulled up in front of the house. The dark red color of the 1989 cadillac surely would have been able to keep his attention, like it did any other time, if it wasn't for the girl that got out of the passenger's side door moments later.
He's pretty sure his heart had skipped a beat when you had stepped out. You had been in the midst of flipping your medium length styled hair back and out of your face as you shut the door. Wearing a 70's themed white eyelet lace top, and a pair of light blue shorts that settled over your hips nicely.
You were fifteen, sun-kissed nicely with a nice tan ontop of already gleaming olive skin. You were shorter than what Jimin had expected, though he seemed to be a full foot or two taller than you, which pleased him a great amount.
He remembers that when your bold dark eyes had settled on his, that he had decided then and there that your pictures absolutely did not do you justice.
Because you were absolutely beautiful, and no matter how hard a professional photographer would try, pixels could not compare to the real thing.
He had stopped in place, a stunned feeling washing over his body, stuck in the middle of the sidewalk between your house and the impressive car.
And to his utmost surprise, and perhaps horror, you had sauntered right up to him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, sticking a hand out towards him, while the other carried a medium sized box.
“Hi,” you had said in a sweet melodious voice. “I'm Y/N. Are you one of Taehyung's friend's?”
Three years had passed since that day. You both were three years older. Both three years wiser, three years more mature, but you had only grown more beautiful and further out of Jimins league.
But three years, and rarely was it that Jimin ever got to see you, considering your parents forced you to attend a boarding school four hours away. And even though Jimin had known you for three years, he still didn't know why you were forced to leave every year while Taehyung attended public school here in Busan.
And even though you only spent a numbered time together you two had grown fairly close.
“If looks could kill, Hoseok would be dead twenty times over.” A voice Jimin recognizes far too easily says from beside him. He's sitting on a nearby rock, eyes peeled to you and Hoseok who are now rocking slowly to a different song he can't quite decipher.
“Go away Jin.” Jimin says, not bothering to look in Seokjin's direction, but Jin's words do sort of make him realize how openly he had been staring, and worried that his cover may have been blown, he decides to glance to the left, taking in the sight of Taehyung sitting on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the edge. Every now and again he looks over his shoulders at the dancing pair, and lets out a laugh. A laugh that only screams I'm drunk so everything is fucking funny to me.
“Is that anyway to be speaking to the only person who knows your secret?” Jin says a moment later, voice nonchalant as he stands beside the rock Jimin is sitting on.
“It's not a secret,” Jimin lies easily, not taking enough time to think over his words before speaking them. Therefore they come out unbelievable. His hands encircle the base of the half empty beer bottle in his possession.
“Yeah, and I'm not craving to be balls deep in Namjoon right now.”
Jimin looks up and to Seokjin, a bewildered expression crossing over his features at the words his friend has just spoken.
“Both are complete and utter fucking lies.” Jin finishes with a crude smile sliding up his lips.
“Too much information-”
“When do you plan on telling her?”” Jin interrupts his sentence, catching him completely off guard.
Jimin glances to the watch on Seokjin's wrist. “Oh, so it's eleven? Then in about never.”
Jin's lips pull into a thin line, eyebrows moving to pull together.
“Nothing will change if you stay silent. You won't be together if you never tell her.”
And perhaps Jin has a point, actually Jimin absolutely knows that Jin has a point, and even though he doesn't want to admit it, Jin is right.
But Jimin had decided awhile back that coming clean to you, with his feelings, was just something he wouldn't do.
“And what's the point of admitting my feelings, Jin? So Taehyung can sucker punch me in my face? So, if the odds are in my favor and she actually does reciprocate my feelings, which she doesnt, then to try for a long-distance relationship just to discover that it won't work out? That'll be more painful than what it's worth. I won't put her through that. Absolutely not.”
For a moment Jin is silent, but the look settled on his face makes Jimin think for a split second that he is going to hit him.
“First of all, Taehyung wouldn't do that. You are, afterall, his bestfriend. It's obvious, so don't try to deny it. Plus you're the least promiscuous of us all, the one with the most genuine heart. And as for a relationship – I don't know, neither do you, you can't be sure about what will occur so trying to guess is absolutely pointless and you know it. And here's the facts: if you don't do anything, then nothing will happen, Jimin.”
Jimin isnt so sure about what to say, so instead he stays silent. Pink lips pursing together as he thinks over Jin's words. Letting them drift through the night air and soak into his brain.
He wanted to tell you.
He really did. If not in hopes that you did feel the same way and that these feelings weren't one sided, then solely for the fact of getting it off of his shoulders. He had thought up several ways of doing so, practiced in front of his mirror more times than he could remember, and had searched online for different ideas, but whenever it came down to it, he always chickened out.
“I still can't believe you dyed your hair, Chim.” Comes a voice too high pitched to be Jin's. Your sudden presence nearly causes Jimin to jump out of his skin, and when he turns to face you, it's with wide eyes, and a look of concern covering his face, fearing that you may have heard the conversation that occurred a mere few seconds ago.
Glancing over your face, Jimin feels lucky because you show no tell-tale signs of overhearing anything not meant for your ears.
And as your eyes meet his he swears all the alcohol flowing through his veins drains right then and there, because he feels stone cold sober.
Jimin stays silent and still as you outstretch an arm and press the palm of your hand in his freshly dyed locks. Your fingers curling around the different strands as you run the tips through the silk like feel of his hair. He refrains from closing his eyes and tilting into the touch, afraid of what it may cause you to do or think.
So instead he keeps a steady smile on his lips, and his eyes peeled to yours.
You're standing a few feet away from Jimin, but he can still smell the fragrance of whatever fruity perfume you've applied. Can still see the shine of your lips, indicating that you've glossed them over with something cherry, because cherry things taste better Jimin! A winecooler is settled in one of your hands as the other shows no signs of leaving Jimin's hair anytime soon.
“I know, right? I wasn't expecting it either. Almost like he did it just for you.” Jin's voice says outloud, Jimin immediately tenses at his friend's banter, and though it appears to be just that, banter of good sorts, Jimin knows the ulterior motive behind his eldest friends words. He turns his head towards Jin, eyes locking with his and he raises an eyebrow, hoping to throw him a look that screams knock it the fuck off.
If you notice the strange behavior, you don't say.
Jimin then looks behind you, glancing at Hoseok who is now sitting beside Taehyung. Their conversation mute as they glance towards the water waiting below.
“Aw,” your sweet voice pulls him back. His eyes immediately meeting your own. “Did you dye your hair just for me, Chim?” You ask jokingly, and he swears he hears Jin snicker in the background. He was definitely going to get it later.
You watch as the corner of Jimin's plump lips lift upward into an award winning smile, one that's always been your favorite.
“Oh please, to do such a drastic thing means that you have to like the person you did it for, even just a little bit.” There's a playfulness you instantly recognize in his voice.
“Ass,” you say as you retract your hand from Jimin's hair, jutting your bottom lip outwards. You then turn to Jin, who has an amused expression written on his face. “Always knew you were my favorite.”
Seokjin really does laugh at that, and you don't get it because you didn't think that it was quite that funny, but with the lift of your eyebrows and a raise of your shoulders you shrug it off.
A moment after Jin's recollected himself his lips part as he asks you a question.
“So Y/N, how's boarding school?” He asks, nice voice filling the air.
Jimin watches your lips as they part, when you let out a sigh. You then lean your head backwards as a groan escapes your small mouth.
“Please, Jin, I know you're trying to be nice, but this is the only time I get away from that wretched prison they call a school. And when you ask me questions like that, you remind me of an estranged family member who isn't at all the least bit interested, but asks out of pure obligation.”
This extracts a laugh from both Jimin and Jin's mouths.
“That bad?” Jimin asks you a moment later, eyes suddenly full of pity.
“You've got no idea, Chim. It's horrible.” You say before stepping forward, and without asking for permission you take a seat on Jimin's legs.
For a moment you think you feel Jimin tense, which causes something inside of you to shift uncomfortably. You and Jimin had always been a bit touchy, but you were always touchy with everyone. It wasn't a big deal, at least not to you. You're about to question his odd behavior, but then the tension seems to leave his body.
Your legs dangle outwards, sitting on both of his legs sideways, your legs outstretching across the remainder of the rock.
“I'm serious. It's fucking horrible. I don't know if I can handle one more year there.” A sudden frown forming on your lips.
Jimin sets his now neglected beer bottle down somewhere he isn't sure, he raises a hand before extending a finger to the dimple on the right side of your cheek. The one that forms only when you frown, which is odd.
Your words entice a more solemn expression to stretch across Jin's face, his arm outstretching as his hand moves to press against your face, Jimin swears his heart skips a beat at the sight, with a glance towards Jin out of the corner his eye, he can see that Jin has done it on purpose, just to get a reaction out of Jimin.
He watches, keeping a grimace at bay with a bite of his tongue as you nuzzle your face into his hand. “M'sure this last year will just fly by, it'll be over before you know it.”
“Yeah, I don't know.” You lift your shoulders up into a slow shrug and Jimin wants to push on the matter more, but he decides against it, noticing your blunt responses towards the matter.
“Chim,” your voice sounds into the night a moment later. Your head turning up so your eyes can meet his. “Wanna go for a walk?”
Jimin hesitates, but his head nods in response. Waiting until you've stood up to do so himself, and with one last look thrown over his shoulder towards Seokjin, the smirk he's met with says it all.
Jimin likes it best when it's the just two of you. That way it feels more intimate. Not that you guys do anything that could be classified as something more than just friend's, but being alone in your presence makes him feel special.
Like he's somehow earned the privilege to bask in the existence of artwork before it's been finished. Because that's just what you are, a masterpiece that has yet to be complete.
Jimin doesn't think he's ever seen you look as beautiful as you do right now. You had let your hair out of the pony tail to sway in the gentle breeze, your dark brown eyes almost blending into the night sky. Your makeup is smudged around your eyes, and the smile on your face has him seeing stars. And no, it's not because they are infact shining in the sky.
Out of the corner of Jimin's eye he can see you shiver, the cool air starting to get to your exposed skin, causing it to goosebump. Your small hands moving to grasp either one of your forearms in attempt to keep warm.
It doesn't surprise you when Jimin quickly shucks off his leather jacket and offers it to you. For a moment you almost refuse it, but after thinking through it one more time, you know refusing it won't do you any good, so you thank him and then quickly pull it over your shoulders.
And it doesn't surprise you because Jimin has always been nice to you, has always treated you kindly, with the utmost respect.
When you were younger and Taehyung's friend's couldn't be bothered, it was Jimin who always made sure you didn't feel left out. It was Jimin who always listened and communicated with you, Jimin who always made you feel included. You're not sure why he had always been so kind, but you're thankful for him for it.
“You wanna know something?” You ask a moment later, not entirely knowing where the words that are about to venture from your mouth come from.
“Enlighten me.” He says, soft voice breaking out into the air gently.
You turn your head when he responds, eyes finding Jimin's, as a smile starts to tug at your pink tinted lips.
“I think you're starting to become my favorite reason to return home.”
You turn your head after you've stated that, you're not entirely sure why you do it. Perhaps, you're afraid that he'll somehow see under your skin and to your soul, discovering things that you have not yet been able to admit to yourself out loud. Things that you're not sure you'll ever be able to speak for the world to hear.
But it's because of your shyness, that you are unable to see the way that red slowly starts to fade over Jimin's cheeks.
You're close enough to the side of the cliff that you can look over the rocks and see the water rushing below, but you are not close enough to be considered in danger, and even if you were, there is no doubt in your mind that Jimin wouldn't do anything in his power to save you from a fall that would surely kill you.
The thought brings you warmth, just like the boy himself.
After a moment of silence, you decide to break it.
“I don't wanna go back Chim.”
Jimin hears you say, your voice soft but loud enough to be heard over the distinct sound of the waves rushing over rocks.
And before he can purse his lips together to keep his thoughts at bay, they are rushing out in form of words he wasn't expecting.
“Why do you go?” Jimin finds himself blurting out, a hand moving out from the pocket of his jeans to press over his mouth a second too late. A shock resembling electricity brushing through him once he realizes what he's asked.
Something that wasn't any of his business, something that he had no right to ask.
He watches as the smile on your face slowly starts to transition into not a frown, but a narrow line. It showing that you're clearly not too comfortable with this topic. In result, your hands grasp tighter around the sleeves of the bulky leather jacket you're wearing. Your dark eyes stay glued to the rocks beneath your feet as you finally allow your lips to part a small amount.
“It's not something I'm particularly proud of, if you couldn't tell. Most kids don't get sent to boarding school for no reason at-”
He interrupts quickly, not wanting to force you in the least bit.
“You don't have to tell me-” He goes to say, but with a shake of your head you silence him.
“I trust you.” Is what you say, finally lifting your head and turning so your eyes can reach his once again. “I know you Jimin, I know you won't judge me.” And then you let the corners of your lips lift up into a somewhat forced smile.
Jimin silently notes that it looks strange on your face.
“Well,” you breathe out. “Let's just say that I lost my virginity at fourteen.”
The sentence takes Jimin by surprise.
But not for the reason most would think.
Was that the sole reason for your parents sending you away? For forcing you to attend a school?
“Yeah,” you say a moment later, when Jimin doesn't respond. You tear your eyes away from his, now focusing on the view ahead.
“I know - it's a messy situation. But basically, my parent's found out and they freaked out. Immediately thought that I was going to get pregnant in highschool or become a sex addict or something, so they decided to pack up my bags and send me away rather than dealing with me. They decided to make me someone elses problem.”
Your footsteps tread lightly across black rocks, white teeth moving to push down into your bottom lip after you've released your best kept secret out into the open. Or at least what you thought was your best kept secret.
It's silent for a moment longer than you think is okay. This causing you to become just slightly uneasy. You knew that Jimin of all people would be the last to judge you, but your anxiety starts to raise despite the well known fact.
“Well.” Jimin says a moment later, taking a few seconds to absorb this new found information he had just discovered, the one word is enough to ease all traces of nerves starting to form in your being. Enough to calm the zoo in your stomach, to tame the bile in the bottom of your throat.
His next words, you don't expect.
“If you're a problem, then you're the prettiest problem I've ever seen.”
As soon as he had stated it, you had moved your eyes back to his, only to find his already primed for your gaze. Jimin wishes he could look away, but he can't, because staring into your eyes is something he'll never get tired of.
A few seconds pass before you offer him a warm smile, not quite knowing how to respond to such unexpected and kind words. Words that cause too many emotions to stir inside of you. And then, before you're forced to come up with some sort of retort, he's speaking again.
“So,” he says and the tone of which his voice sounds is a little off, like he's not entirely sure he should say what he wants to. So with a raise of your eyebrows you urge him to continue, eager yet nervous to find out what he's about to say.
“Was it just the one time, or did it happen -”
You cut him off quickly with a sound of a scoff. A cringe starting to overtake your facial features.
“You pervert, trying to get information to store away later for your wank bank.” You tease, nose scrunching up in playfulness.
“Oh my god, Y/N,” he rushes out, “It's not like that I promise.”
“I'm joking, you dweeb. But, to answer your question no. It wasn't just the one time, I've had sex multiple times with multiple people,” you tilt your head to the side before continuing, “which is why I'm pretty sure my parents keep me there.”
You let your arms dangle to your sides, and you swear you can feel the heat radiating from Jimin's hand.
“That's so unfair,” Jimin finds himself saying. “Taehyung has sex all of the time and—”
“Okay, gross. I definitely didn't need to know that.” You squeal, lifting a hand to rush through you medium cut hair, a chuckle escaping your lips as you do so.
“-- You know what I meant, you loser.” Jimin says, staring straight ahead, just like you. “It's just unfair that they send you away for the same thing they don't discipline Taehyung for. I mean, I bet Taehyung's fucked more people than you've kis-”
“That wouldn't necessarily be hard to beat.” You cut him off, your eyes scrunching a moment after you've admitted.
You turn your head towards him a second later, your eyes watching as his eyebrows furrow curiously. One of them cocking upwards as if to ask a question.
And then:
“When's the last time you were kissed?”
And to say that you didn't see this question coming, wouldn't be exactly true. Still, you tilt your head to the side as you try to pinpoint when the last time was. Raising a finger to press the tip of it to your chin as you do so.
You both have made it off of the rocks, and now are walking through the forest surrounding the cliffs, heading in the direction where Jimin's and Seokjin's cars are parked.
There is a track formed into the Earth, caused by a plethora amount of tires that have been driven through the forest. Something that started back way before any of you had even been thought of. To say the cliff's were a popular place for teenagers to hang out, would be a complete understatement.
“I can't exactly recall, but if I had to guess, probably,” you hesitate lifting a finger and then two as you speak, “a year, or two perhaps?”
Jimin's eyes widen in shock, your words causing him to stop abruptly. His sudden actions cause you to do the exact same, worried for a split second.
“Two years?” He asks in a voice that resembles bewilderment. “That's-- that's a long time – it's so hard to believe.”
You're not sure whether you should take that sentence as a compliment or an insult.
“Really?” You ask, your arms moving to cover over your chest. “And why's that?” You suddenly feel the need to defend yourself.
Jimin's eyes glance from the cross of your arms and to the expression he can't quite decrypt covering your face, causing him to suddenly become nervous. He hadn't meant to upset you, he had just truly been taken by surprise.
His head tilts downwards as he lifts a hand to the back of his neck, scratching the skin there – a habit he does when he's nervous.
“Well uh, because you're beautiful. And I religiously believe that beautiful people should often be kissed.”
His statement takes you by utter surprise, threatening to knock you over as soon as the words are spoken. Rarely had you ever been called beautiful, only by older men who tried to get into your pants, or by your family members, but by a friend – by Jimin, never.
You don't know how to react, so you stand there stunned for a few seconds, hoping to god that the heat rising to your cheeks can't be seen from where Jimin stands. You let his compliment slowly settle in your brain, letting your eyes stare directly at his face, which is still tilted downwards.
Luckily for you, he clears his throat, distinctly trying to change the subject, resuming the movements of his feet once again, causing you to do the same. Neither of you look at each other for awhile, both still trying to recover from Jimin's confession.
“Anyway, as for you going back,” he says, referring to the start of the topic. “You think you're the one who has it hard?” He questions into the air, letting himself stare at you from the corner of his eye, only to find that the start of his sentence has seemed to grasp your full attention.
“I'm the one that has to say goodbye to you every summer, Y/N. Have to watch you get on that train, and disappear for an entire year. It hurts.” He says it in a teasing tone, but you can't help but to wonder if there's a truth that lies beneath his words.
“Wow, you say that like you actually care about me.” You tease into the air, attempting to joke along.
In retaliation to your words he moves a hand from one of the pockets of his jeans and places it over his chest where his heart sits, his head shaking in a disapproving way.
“Y/N, you wound me. But frankly if you haven't pieced together how much I care about you by now, then you're not as smart as I thought you were.”
You let out a loud laugh at that, one that causes your head to tilt backwards, and Jimin swears that it's his new favorite sound.
“Careful,” you say as you recover, the smile on your face seeming to be too big for your lips. “If I didn't know you better, I'd say that you're starting to sound like you're in love with me or something.”
Jimin feels his blood run cold at the sound of those words venturing out from your lips. He halts suddenly, not being able to tear his eyes away from your back as you continue to walk ahead of him a few paces, completely oblivious to the fact that he's fallen behind. And though you've regathered your attention and settled it on the stars, your ears are still listening when he speaks his next sentence.
A sentence that you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. – Not yet, at least.
“Would that be such a crime?”
A second after he's spoken those words, he curses himself. Hoping to himself that he had spoken them softly enough for you to be unable to hear. But you stop suddenly, and Jimin swears he feels the vomit rise in his throat.
He watches as your head turns over your shoulder, and Jimin stills. Afraid of what you will say.
You part your lips to speak.
“Wanna go somewhere?” You ask.
He lets out an inaudible sigh of relief, thinking that he had gotten lucky and that you hadn't heard.
And hell if he was going to refuse a chance at more alone time with you.
Whenever you're around, Jimin feels like he's hanging by a moment. It's been this way since as long as he can remember. From the first sentence you had ever spoken to him, to the most recent.
He feels like the only thing connecting him to the edge of the cliff that he feels likes he dangling off of, is just a tiny bit of thread. Thread that threatens to break at any given moment. 
He watches as you run through the wheat field the two of you have found yourself in, admires you as you giggle when the tips of the wheat tickle the skin of your thighs that remain unclothed. He swears he dives a little more into you when you turn your head over your shoulder with a wide grin stretched across your pink lips. A grin formed just for him to see.
You had both started in the car earlier that night, Jimin insisting on driving even though you put up a fight. Because rarely was it that you ever drove anywhere, and when were you given the chance? With a school that hardly ever went on any trips, and a strict rule that forbid any of the students from leaving the school ground's it was impossible. 
You had thought that him refusing to allow you to drive was because of his own selfish reasons, but in reality it was because Jimin liked the way you looked with the wind blowing back your hair while he drove down the highway.
Your skin had been glistening in the night light, one of your arms danging out of his car, while you let your hand surf the wind. Your head had been hanging out of the window, your face upwards so you could gaze at the stars as he drove. The entirety of the drive you had screamed out the lyrics to whatever song was playing on the radio, laughing while you had done so. And Jimin had struggled, had found it so incredibly difficult to focus on the road ahead, but with your safety on the line – it was enough to prompt him to keep his eyes where they were supposed to be. But, even then, it could not keep him from staring at you out of the corners of his eye.
Neither of you had bothered to reach out to the others or shoot anyone a text to let them know that you two had left. Figuring that they'd figure it out soon enough, that it would be obvious when the two of you hadn't returned.
When the two of you had reached Jimin's car, there was no set destination in either one of your minds. You had just gone where the roads had taken you, and that just so happened to be an old gravel road, where Jimin stopped his car by a great huge wheat field guarded by a barbwired fence, one that was just too easy to slide underneath.
And that's how you both had found yourself running through the tall strands of wheat, laughing as you had done so.
But soon enough you both had tired yourselves out, clearly not very athletic in the way you had shortened of energy so quickly.
Jimin was currently resting in the wheat field, laying down ontop of the Earth; his arms strewn underneath his head in an improvised pillow. You had taken it upon yourself to mimic his actions, copying him quickly and laying down beside him.
Two pair of eyes were staring up at the night sky, the stars twinkling beautifully above the two of you. Conversation had flowed between the two of you easily, ranging from arguments reflecting on The Backstreet Boys or Nsync, to discussion based on whether the two of you thought that aliens existed, to asking each other about the future.
You had responded with something about leaving. You had always wanted to travel, to escape the hell hole you were forced to live, and just be free. Jimin had asked if you'd take him along, and you had responded with a smile that caused his heart to jump in his chest and the words of If not you, then who?
When you had asked him the same question, a million thoughts ran wildly through his head, but the one that screamed louder than any of the others was:
I don't care, as long as I'm with you.
But he had bitten back the words, replaced them with a cliché answer of, I'm not sure. You had scoffed and rolled your eyes.
In the midst of your pointless discussions, Jimin's arm had circled around your shoulders and pulled you closer into his body, causing your head to rest easily against his chest. Your free arm moving to cascade effortlessly across the middle of his stomach, fingers curling into the side of his hip.
Neither of you had been quite this touchy before. And you couldn't blame the sudden bursts of affection on the alcohol in your body, because you both were sober, whether you wanted to admit it or not.
That's when Jimin's words start to repeat in your mind, like a cd stuck on replay.
You're beautiful.
Would it be such a crime?
You're beautiful. I religiously believe that beautiful people should be kissed often.
Would it be such a crime?
You find yourself silently wondering, and maybe perhaps hoping that Jimin had finally accepted the truth, had finally seen it for himself.
You shake the thoughts out of your head, raising an arm upwards to point towards a constellation in the sky.
“That's my favorite,” you state, eyes not leaving the stars. “Orion.”
It's silent for a moment, and you think you can feel eyes staring at you, but you don't look.
“Tell me the myth.” Jimin says, knowing that you want to.
You hesitate for a moment, white teeth moving down to press into the skin of your bottom lip. The story you were familiar with, could recite it as easily as your first name.
“It starts with the Goddess Artemis.” You begin, letting your arm fall back to your side. “They say that she could love with the heat of a thousand fires, but she also could be cold and unforgiving. She was the goddess of virginity, hunt, the forest and the moon.
They say that from the moment Orion's eyes laid on Artemis he had fallen in love, and the same could be said for her,” you once again, think you feel Jimin tense underneath your body, so in result you tilt your head towards him, only to find a smile placed upon his lips.
Your eyes find his before continuing.
 “Orion was a great hunter, much like Artemis, so that's where their friendship began, bonding over hunting.” You move your hand from across Jimin's stomach, uncurling your fingers from his hip and slide it along the fabric of his shirt, letting it rest gently against the material of his shirt when it reaches his chest.
“Now, Artemis had a twin brother named Apollo, a brother who was very protective over her to say the least – and when he heard that she – who was the goddess of virginity, had met and perhaps even fallen in love with a man, he had grown worried that his sister would break her vow.
Apollo had gone to the forest in hopes to find his sister, to find out if she was in fact still a virgin, and when he stumbled upon the two of them - Artemis and Orion, asleep and laying in each others arms, he had panicked and immediately assumed the worst.
Later that night, when Artemis had woken up from her nap, to find the night growing quickly, she had decided to go hunt, knowing that Orion would be hungry when he woke up. And when Orion awoke to see that Artemis wasn't by his side, he had decided to go to the river to swim, one of his favorite hobbies.
Apollo saw an opportunity and he chose to take it.”
You pause, letting out a breath. You then retract your hand from Jimin's torso and pull it back down to your side, your eyes still staying focused on his, and you're surprised to see that he is starting at you intently, looking very enraptured by your words.
“He had stumbled upon his sister and had lied to her, saying he had seen a giant stag by the river. The huntress, who had no luck killing anything that night, had hurriedly rushed to the river. Once there, Artemis could see something by the water, but it was too dark for her to notice that it wasn't a stag, but the man whom she loved.
Carefully she aimed her bow at Orion, and without a seconds worth of hesitation released an arrow. Afterward, she had swam across the river to claim her prey and when she stumbled upon the target she had hit, she became overwhelmed with grief.
She tried to bring him back to life, but his soul had left his body, it was too late. So while his body rested lifeless in her arms, she had decided to cast him up into the sky, so that he could live forever. So that she could see him for the rest of her days.”
You pause.
“They say she lost a piece of herself that night, when the love of her life died. And, I can only hope to experience a love that great one day.” You let out a breath afterwards, once again turning your head in the direction of the stars. “So yes, that's the story of Orion, and jesus, the stars are so beautiful.”
Jimin is silent for awhile. Not being able to remove his eyes from the top of your head, not being able to think about anything else but the only thing that matters to him in the universe: you.
You were his Artemis, without a doubt.
Jimin took a note in that moment, that watching you talk about something you enjoyed was one of his favorite things.  He was going to do it a lot more from now on.
The tips of Jimin's short fingers are cascading through your messy locks, and even though he is sure that the stars are in fact, beautiful. It is you who has captured his attention.
“Yeah,” Jimin states, a moment later, you not being able to feel his eyes as they stare directly at your face. “Very beautiful.”
Driving you home proves to be much harder than Jimin anticipated.
Driving you home proves to be much more eventful than what Jimin planned.
Because driving you home is when it happens.
You're belting out the lyrics to an ending song, and it's when a song Jimin doesn't recognize starts to play, and you turn towards him, a smile on your face, yelling out the words, “One of my favorites, an oldie but a goodie!” It's when the verse I'm falling even more in love with you plays into the car, that it happens.
And Jimin stops.
Quite literally.
He slams on the breaks, his car coming to a quick and abrupt stop right there in the middle of the empty highway.
His hand immediately reaches for the volume dial before switching the music all the way to low, eager to get the song to stop ringing in his ears.
You sit there in the passenger's seat, shocked into silence. Your eyes blinking slowly as your head turns to him, eyebrows uplifting. You wait a moment, hoping that he'll turn towards you, but when a moment passes and he doesn't, you start to worry your thoughts out loud.
“Jimin?” You ask, only to get no response.
“Jimin.”
Silence.
“Jimin?” you say, though it comes out in more of a question type form.
Your voice is soft and reminding Jimin of why – he stops suddenly.
Head turning to face yours.
“Oh my god.” He blurts out, taking you by surprise. Your eyebrows cocking upwards.
You watch in curiosity and perhaps even horror as he pushes open the driver's side door and practically jumps out of the car. Your eyes stay peeled on him as he walks to the front of the car, and you're able to see his figure as he starts to pace back and forth in front of the headlights.
You're scared, to say the least.
Unsure about what to do.
You had never seen Jimin like this.
You had no idea what was going on.
Slowly, you pull open your door, stepping out of it and not wasting anytime before mimicking his actions and walking to the front of the car. You decide to keep your distance, taking a seat on the hood, though your feet reach the pavement of the road.
“Jimin?” You question out a moment later, and your voice – it causes him to stop suddenly.
And it's there, when he glances upwards and see's your face, your beautiful face, that it fully registers in his mind. That's when it all clicks.
Park Jimin had just found himself in the middle of having an epiphany, and you had been there to witness it all.
You had been the sole purpose of it all.
Your voice had been soft and it had reminded Jimin of one of the many reasons of why he had fallen in love with you.
He had just for the first time, admitted it to himself.
He was in love with you.
The feelings he harbored for you – they could only be described as so.
They weren't a crush, couldn't be described as such - not when they were this intense, this real, this powerful.
He was in love with you.
And it's when he looks at you, and a slow but knowing smile starts to slide across his lips that you realize why he had been acting so strange.
Because he had finally figured it out.
Park Jimin was in love with you.
He thought you were beautiful and he was absolutely in love with you.
And immediately, he wants to tell you.
And immediately you want him to finally speak it out loud, you finally want to hear him say it.
So you wait.
Wait to hear the words that you've imagined a million different times.
His mouth aches to spill the secret he's kept from you for years.
A secret he hadn't known was so strong until a mere few seconds go.
But then the weight, the effects of his feelings finally hit him.
And he feels like his world is falling apart.
But he was in love with you, and for all he knew, you weren't in love with him.
So instead of telling you, he decides to do what he does best and swallow his feelings.
It's there in that moment, when his smile falters the least bit, and his eyes flicker to the ground that all the hope you had been feeling vanquishes.
And then:
“You know.”
He says after a moment. And he's unsure how he's able to speak when the feelings he's just struggled to swallow are trying their best to claw their way back up.
He then glaces down towards the watch on his wrist. And you can tell by the split second it takes for him to look at the time, that he wasn't even studying it, that it was just an excuse.
“It's getting late, we should probably get going.” He quickly says. “Your parents and brother will be getting worried.”
He offers you a fake smile, one so obvious it makes you cringe.
And then he turns away from you, heading for the driver's side of the car.
And then, in that moment you find yourself refusing to accept that this has just happened.
That you both had been on the brink of starting something so beautiful, but had fallen short due to fears.
And it's there in that moment that you decide that you are tired of waiting and that you won't do it any longer.
You find your brain spitting out words you don't even have time to register.
“Are you going to keep pretending, or are you going to come over here and kiss me?”
Jimin halts at the words that have just slipped past your lips, his eyes widening as his brain processes them. And he's met with a stunned feeling washing over every bit of emotion flowing through his body.
Had he heard you correctly?
It takes him a moment to recollect his thoughts, to register that you really did just say what you did before he's turning around, achingly slowly.
His eyes flicker over yours, searching for any sort of sign that you were indeed joking, that perhaps this was just a dream, that he hadn't just heard what he thought he had, that maybe he had imagined it.
He raises an eyebrow, staring at you, only to be met with a stoic expression and jesus such a beautiful face
“What--” he pauses, forcing the words out. “W-what did you just say-”
“I said,” you interrupt, growing a little impatient.
But you can't help but allow the smile to form on your lips.
“Are you going to keep pretending or are you going to come over here and kiss me, Jimin? If I'm not as delusional as I think I am, then you like me. And I'm tired of waiting, so are you going to keep pretending. And if so, for how long?” You pause, letting out a breath.
“And do you really not think I see the way you stare at me when you think you're being subtle? You stare at me with such an intensity that I can basically feel it. So, are you going to keep pretending Jimn or are you going to come over here and kiss me because I'm not sure how much longer I can wa-”
You're interrupted by a pair of lips that could only belong to the other person in the area.
You had been so focused on rambling that you hadn't noticed the change in Jimin's demeanor. The step he'd take toward you with every word spoken, the relieved expression falling over his features.
Your eyes close immediately on impact, the thought he had interrupted disappearing easily.
He kisses you.
Jimin's red colored lips are soft as they press into yours, and you've been kissed before, multiple times, but nobody has ever kissed you quite like this.
Like your lips are essential to living, like they are needed to continue life.
He kisses you gently, large hands moving to press into each one of your cheeks, pads of his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the skin of them.
He fucking kisses you.
He kisses you.
And it's like your heart finally lets out a sigh of relief.
Like every bone in your body screams, “About fucking time.”
Because you love Park Jimin.
You are pretty sure a part of you always had - from the first time you had seen him: brown hair, baggy pants, and gawking at you from your sidewalk.
You love Park Jimin, and you had been waiting four summers for this kiss.
You were in love with Park Jimin and he finally realized he loved you back.
And it's there, in that moment, with his lips pressing into yours while in the middle of an empty highway, the only lights illuminating the night coming from the headlights of Park Jimin's car, that you know that despite the inevitable year that awaits to tear you from each other, despite the brother who will most definitely be shocked but excited because now Jimin can become his brother for real, everything will work out.
Because after all.
You love Park Jimin.
And after years of falsely identifying his feelings as just a crush, he finally allowed himself to see the truth.  That he was in love with you. 
a/n: so that was that, and again I have to apologize because if it's as bad as I honestly think it was, then your eyes have probably fallen out of your head.  I'm not sure if I should even keep this here or not, oh my gosh. I had a friend read through it and she told me it was boring, which is why I’m not so sure about it.  also if there are any grammatical errors, or sentences that just don't make sense, I apologize, but I knew that if I read through it one more time then I wouldn't have posted it. but, despite this all, I hope it was somewhat enjoyable.  please feel free to let me know your thoughts and opinions! ♡ ps: when she is telling Jimin the myth of Orion and Artemis, the part that is italicized is not my writing.
490 notes · View notes