Tumgik
#side note i tried to make y/n look as nondescript as possible and they ended up looking like an office worker
twoshotsoffandom · 2 years
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I was unaware that we could share the gremlin we envision in the self insert fics. And then my pen died.
Have this teddy bear of a human being, they/them for Wyatt
Uhhhhh @bamsara and @paper-lilypie because I drew stuff somewhat related to their fics and I am pretty sure you are supposed to tag someone when you do that
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blurry-fics · 4 years
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Chapter One
Where Did We Go | Series Masterlist
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2101
Author’s Note: The first chapter of Where Did We Go! I honestly feel like these last two weeks flew by. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter :) (picture credit)
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You rocked back and forth on your heels, keeping a careful eye on the people around you, looking for anyone that may let their gaze linger on you a little too long. Most didn’t even give you a second glance, they were too focused on their own returning family members or getting to security to worry about you.
They had told you it was a bad idea to wait for Tyler inside the airport, claiming there was too much potential for people to recognize you and cause a scene. You ignored the warnings, partially because you didn’t want to wait in some nondescript SUV outside the airport for Tyler and partially because you still had a hard time believing that people were going to seek you out. Tyler was the famous one, after all; you were just his girlfriend.
A new wave of people began to filter through the doors. You pushed your sunglasses down a little - you had received a few funny looks for wearing them inside - so that you could get a better look at the people that were walking past you, seeking out Tyler’s familiar profile. Any other defining features of his would no doubt be covered in order to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.
You eventually spotted him towards the end of the crowd, wearing his own pair of sunglasses and with his hood pulled up over his head, keeping most of his face hidden. Not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself, you pushed down the desire to run towards him and throw your arms around him to instead casually walk his way. He noticed you immediately and his face grew into the familiar gorgeous smile that you had missed so dearly.
“Y/N,” he grinned, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“I wanted to see you as soon as possible. I’ve missed you so much.”
Tyler had been in Australia for the last month, finishing up the last leg of the Blurryface tour. You had been caught up with other responsibilities - mostly helping Carter and Marenna with their wedding preparations - meaning you hadn’t been able to fly over and see him. With the added complications of time zones and Tyler being busy enough as it was, it felt like you had barely been able to talk to him over the last month. It was difficult, but you were glad that he was home to spend time with you now.
“I’ve missed you too,” he said, looping his free arm around your waist and pressing a quick kiss to your temple.
“How was your flight?”
“Long. The first one wasn’t so bad because I had Josh with me, but the flight from LA to here was boring. I just watched movies.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“A little bit here and there. I was trying not to mess up my sleep schedule too much because of the time difference, but I’m still exhausted. I can’t wait to be at home again.”
You leaned your head a little further into Tyler’s shoulder as you walked, “Soon, love. We just have to get your things and then we can drive home.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” he smiled, quickening his pace.
The two of you quickly made your way through the airport toward baggage claim, trying your best to not draw too much attention to yourselves. Although your oversized hoodies and sunglasses - and in Tyler’s case, a hat as well - were meant to conceal who you really were from the public eye, you were pretty sure it was only drawing more attention your way. It was hard not to giggle at some of the funny looks you received from people you passed by.
“Did you see that guy’s face?” Tyler whispered. He was grinning.
“Yes,” you said, barely containing laughter. “I’m pretty sure he thought we were the biggest tools in the airport.”
“I mean, maybe we are.”
“Maybe you are, Mr. I-Just-Got-Home-From-A-World-Tour.”
“Oh, is that the game we’re going to play, Ms. I’m-Dating-A-Rockstar?”
“I think calling yourself a rockstar kind of defeats the point,” you smiled.
He sighed, “You’re right.”
You lightly rubbed his back while he pouted, maybe a bit more dramatically than he needed to. It wasn’t until you arrived at baggage claim that he dropped the act.
“I’ll go grab your stuff,” you said. “You stay over here and try not to get recognized.”
“I can do that. Thank you.”
Tyler gave you a quick peck before you started to walk towards the crowd of people that had begun to form.
“Two bags? Or three?” you asked.
He held up two fingers, to which you gave a thumbs up in return. You joined the crowd of strangers and tried to ignore the sideways glances you were being given. Your focus right now was on getting Tyler’s bags and getting back to the car so that you could finally see his face and give him a proper kiss.
It felt like an eternity before Tyler’s bags finally showed up, sporting colorful luggage tags that you had bought for him after he kept accidentally taking Josh’s bags home. You grabbed them and wheeled them back over to where Tyler was standing, playing on his phone. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have never thought it was him. He must have heard you coming, because he looked up right as you were about to get his attention.
“What has you so happy?” you asked, noticing the big grin on his face.
“I’m just happy to be home and have you close to me again. I don’t like doing tours without you.”
“I know you don’t, but you’re home now and we have three whole weeks together, at home, before we have to leave again. You don’t have to do another tour without me for a long time.”
“And I’m very happy about that.”
He gave you another quick kiss before taking one of the suitcases from you. Together, you walked back towards the parking garage, unable to keep the smiles off your faces.
It was a relief when you finally made it out of the airport. The parking garage was mostly empty, aside from a few people who barely gave you a second glance as you walked past. As soon as they passed, you pulled your hood down and pushed your sunglasses up onto your head.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Tyler smiled, doing the same. “But I’m glad it did.”
“Me too. I don’t think I would have been patient enough to wait for you to talk to fans,” you laughed.
You opened the trunk of the car and helped Tyler load his suitcases into it. As soon as everything was secure and the trunk was closed, he put his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, giving you the first good look at his face since before he had left. There was something about looking into his chocolate brown eyes that made you feel safe. You had missed that feeling.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. How did I get so lucky?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
He smiled before finally pulling you into a kiss. His hand rested carefully on the side of your face, keeping you close to him. It was familiar and exciting all at once. You never wanted him to pull away, even if it meant standing in an airport parking garage for eternity.
Tyler was the first to pull away from the kiss, but he was far from ready to let you out of his arms. He moved his lips to your forehead and let them rest there, using his arms to pull your body against his. You happily wound your arms around him, taking in everything you could about the moment.
“I missed you so much,” he mumbled into your forehead. “So, so much.”
“Ty, it’s ok,” you said, rubbing his back once again. “You’re home now.”
“I know. This last month was just hard and it feels like there’s this huge weight off of my shoulders now that I’m with you again. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
He gave you one more kiss before finally pulling away so that you could drive home. You had forgotten how much you loved drives with Tyler, when you could hold his hand and listen to music together and, if you were really lucky, he would sing to you.
“I feel so much better already.”
You reached over the console and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his. He lightly squeezed your hand, his mouth immediately curling into the smile that had made you fall for him in the first place.
“That’s good.”
“Thank you for coming to pick me up, by the way. I thought I was going to have to take a car home, but I’d much rather be with you.”
“Of course, Ty. You know that I couldn’t wait another hour to see you.”
“I don’t think I could have either. I would have been impatient the entire ride home.”
“Well now you can relax.”
“Finally,” he said, adjusting himself a bit more in the seat. “Just don’t hit any potholes.”
“I’ll try my best.”
*     *     *
Tyler was facedown on the couch with his arm draped over the side within minutes of you arriving home. His suitcases were abandoned in the entryway, making you giggle as you stepped around them to hang up your keys. It seemed taking off his shoes was the only thing he could handle in his exhausted state.
“Tired, Ty?” you asked as you began to wheel his luggage towards the stairs.
He mumbled something incoherent into the couch. You shook your head and began to carefully get his things up the stairs towards your bedroom. If they were already halfway to where they needed to be, Tyler would be more likely to unpack them in a timely manner. That was something you had learned a long time ago.
“Ok, all your stuff is upstairs for you to unpack when you feel like it,” you said, walking over to where Tyler was laying and pressing a kiss to his head.
“Where are you going?”
“I was going to go organize some stuff in the office. I’ve been cleaning out old files and stuff while you’ve been gone.”
“Will you stay and cuddle with me instead?”
You smiled, “You know I can’t say no to that.”
Tyler sat up, giving you enough room on the couch to lay down. While you got comfortable, he took off his hat and ruffled his hair.
“Ok, come here,” you laughed.
Tyler instantly laid on top of you, resting his head right in the crook of your neck. You began to run your hands through his hair, occasionally lightly scratching his head. His arms were wrapped lightly around you, tracing idle patterns on your back.
“Are you going to want me to cut your hair soon?” you asked, noticing how long the sides were getting.
“Yeah, although I think I’m going to keep the top longer.”
“I like you with longer hair.”
“Me too.”
“We can cut it tomorrow. I don’t want you falling asleep while I have clippers near your head.”
“I’m not going to fall asleep anytime soon,” he argued, but you could tell just by the way that he was talking that he was beginning to get tired.
“Alright, love. You keep telling yourself that.”
“Thanks for taking my stuff upstairs, by the way. I really appreciate that.”
“Of course.”
“Now I just have to unpack all of it.”
“You don’t have to do that today, Ty. We can just relax.”
“Relax. Yeah, I like that plan.”
“I’ll stay here as long as you want me to.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Tyler lifted his head just long enough to give you a kiss before laying back down again. His breathing was already beginning to slow down and the patterns he was drawing on your back came to a stop as he started to drift off. Since he wasn’t going to be a good conversation partner for much longer, you decided to put on a TV show you both liked to keep yourself entertained while he slept.
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you sat there on the couch, cuddled up with your sleeping boyfriend as you watched TV. It was still hard for you to believe sometimes that Tyler loved you so much, or even loved you at all, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
*     *     *     *     *
Taglist
@tylersheavydirtysoul​ @faceofcontvsions​ @ohprettyweeper​ @shaytwentyonep​ @tyler-josephs-floof​ @buzzybeebandaid​ @topownsmyheart​ @harishaanne​ @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @somethingboutyou1​ @boiled-onionrings​ @heythereitm3​ @gaysludge​ @breadbinishigh​ @5secondsofmoxley​ @patdsinner33​
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I Trust You (Part 8/8)  - Chadwick x Reader
Summary:  You start to pave your own way forward, finally finding yourself on the road to a better future - but will it include Chadwick?
Warnings:  None. Just fluff.
Word Count: 3,593
Author’s Note:  To clarify the timeline (important for this chapter), this chapter/story takes place PRE-filming of Black Panther.
And it’s done! Thank you again to everyone who read, commented, and enjoyed this story. I had a blast writing it and reading your reactions!
Since Tumblr is being a little bitch these days, please check the comments for a link to my Masterlist, and Chapter 7.
Taglist:  @purple-apricots, @deliciousstreetkidcroissant, @ashanti-notthesinger, @onyour-right,  @maverickabull, @lavitabella87, @brianabreeze,  @fullonfrenzy, @grandadchadwick, @builtalongthewayside, @belauriette, @jaeee-http, @airis-paris14,  @fortuitoushappenings , @queentearra  
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Your apartment was, as a fancy-talking realtor would put it, “Cozy.”
The space you and Ariana were sharing was in the basement of a house, with two older women who lived upstairs and rented their basement suite for extra retirement income. 
Since it was a basement, there were only thin windows allowing some light in, so to counteract the darkness Ariana had furnished it with lots of floor and table lamps for lighting. Walking downstairs, you were immediately in the living room, which was tolerably clean by your standards. A small kitchen of just the basics was tucked into a little corner. 
The ‘den’ you were paying rent for was big enough for a twin sized bed that took up half the room. The saving grace was the room’s closet, which had a built-in wardrobe and shelves, enough room to stash your suitcase. 
Ariana seemed apologetic as she showed the room to you. “Like I said, you won’t pay the full rent since you don’t have a full-sized room.” She looked at you anxiously, chewing her lip. “Are you okay with it?” 
A brief flash of regret went through you, thinking about Chadwick’s offer and all that went along with it. But your gut was telling you this was the right decision, and only time would prove you wrong. You responded to Ariana’s question with an assured smile. 
On your first evening in your new apartment, you curled up on the couch attempting to get to know your new roommate a little better, and as irony would have it, the one thing you were trying to push from your thoughts, was the one thing she wanted to talk about. 
“PleaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAse give me details,” her palms came together in front of her face, pleading in prayer, “and don’t think I didn’t see you trying to swallow each other’s tongues from the front window.” She abandoned her praying gesture to smack your arm, smirking. 
“You snoop!” You laughed, and responded to her round, pleading, hopeful eyes with a secretive shrug.
You were committed to staying guarded out of protectiveness for the past few days you had shared with him, that just didn’t feel right to talk about. You deflected her questions until she gave up, at least, she promised, for now.
All through your evening, and that night when you tried to sleep, he was all you could think about. 
That night, while Dodger snored next to you, you turned from side to side, experimenting with different sleeping positions on your small bed when you felt a vibration under your pillow. 
You scrambled to pull the phone up to your squinting eyes in the dark room, the blueish light from your screen illuminating the smile on your face as you read the text from Chadwick. 
I miss you.
You couldn’t help but picture him lounging naked in his bed at 1:30am, also struggling to sleep and burning with thoughts of you while you were doing the very same thing. Both of you, side by side, smiled at your phones, and Chadwick saw your text bubble come through just seconds later: 
Miss you too.
//
You felt strange and unprepared returning to work the next day. When colleagues asked how your weekend was, you almost wanted to laugh. A year’s worth of life experiences had happened since Friday. Where to even start? I was assaulted on Friday, then I met and ended up staying with an apparent movie star who helped me move out with my shitty ex, and yesterday I just moved into a new place. Oh and I got my back blown out a few times. How was your weekend?
Proving how long your absence seemed, when you sat down at your computer, you had completely forgotten your password, and had to sheepishly phone your IT department. 
The morning passed quickly as you caught up and you stealthily passed a few text messages back and forth with Chadwick, who apparently wanted you to know whenever he was thinking of you, and that morning, it was often. 
Just before your lunch break, your boss, a short, but fierce older woman with a halo of curls and thick black rimmed glasses, stopped at your desk.
“Y/N, welcome back, I’ve been meaning to catch you all morning but have been in nonstop meetings – how are you feeling?” Her concerned expression confused you for a second, until you remembered calling in sick.
You slid your phone under your thigh to hide your text message conversation, and swivelled in your chair to give her your full attention. “I’m feeling better, Kirsten – thanks.”
You respected your boss and felt a little guilty lying to her, but weren’t sure what you could say.
You then heard the most dreaded words an employee can hear from their manager, although her face was kind and her tone casual as she asked, “Do you mind stepping into my office?”
“N-No, not at all.” With a grim expression, you stood and followed her, and she closed the door behind you, the thud of it closing sounding ominous. 
“Take a seat,” she gestured at her wooden visitor chair, and moved her small frame behind the heavy desk. As she did, she pulled out a nondescript folder from her cabinet, and placed it between you.
Your heart was beating a million miles per minute at what could have prompted either the reprimand that was coming, or your dismissal.
When Kirsten opened the folder, what you saw took you completely by surprise.
They were security camera photos. The first picture showing an elevator, grainy and in black and white, a man and a woman.
The time stamp on the picture was the exact time you left the office on Friday, but you didn’t need that piece of information to know that this was you and your attacker.
In the photo, your face was a blank mask, expressionless. You seemed made of stone. He looked exactly as you tried not to remember. The camera angle had a birds eye view of his bald head with the combed over hairs. 
Looking at it gave you a sick, squirming feeling in your stomach as you relived the disgust and fear that was going through your mind in that very moment.
That was just the first picture. You could see others behind it, three or four, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them.
Your hand stayed firmly planted over your mouth in an attempt to inhibit an uncontrollable need to explode somehow. Throw up, panic, cry, scream. All seemed possible, and you made a whimpering sound holding them all back in front of your boss.
Kirsten gathered the photos and wordlessly closed the folder.
“Building security brought these to us, once they matched the timing of the photos to your key card swiping into the parking level.” Her voice was gentle, steady and calm, her eyes moist with emotion. “They were able to match his as well.”
You wiped at your cheek, catching the rolling tears and you sniffled, your voice hoarse, “They know who it is?”
“They do, and there is enough evidence here to do some harm, but it’s up to you if you would like to give a statement to the police and confirm his identity.”
Your brain was in shock trying to take everything in at once and you sat quietly trying to process her words. Kirsten handed you a tissue from a nearby box, which you took gratefully to dab at your eyes. 
She placed a comforting hand on your arm. “It’s your choice to talk to the police or not, Y/N. If this is too hard, you don’t have to do anything, but I strongly encourage that you give this bastard what he deserves, and you have my support. I am so sorry this happened.”
Clutching the tissue in your hand, you considered her words, weighing the emotional price you’d be paying to describe your experience to the police, and potentially a courtroom, with whatever the outcome might be.
You decided it was worth it. 
“I’ll do it.” You said numbly. 
After giving you a tight hug, Kirsten told you the police would be in touch very soon and as you walked back to your desk, relief and anxiety competed for control of your mind. 
It was an overwhelming amount to take in and you could barely focus on your work. The news had brought back all of Friday’s memories in fresh, raw detail. Each of your senses participated in the full body recollections and you made regular trips to the bathroom just to breathe and calm yourself. You knew the police would want to know everything and you had to be prepared to relive it all. 
The experience of making a formal statement and pressing charges against your attacker was more difficult and personally draining than you could have imagined.
Kirsten gave you the next few days off of work. Three hours were spent at the station, walking two policemen through your memory of that night, and the rest of the time to recover at home, alone, sapped of energy and hugging your pillow in bed.
All you told Chadwick was that security camera footage had been recovered of your attacker. 
Of course, he immediately wanted to see you, but you needed time alone. Instead, you made plans to see him for lunch that Friday. 
The next few days were a blur and thankfully, Kirsten was sympathetic and reassigned most of your work to your teammates. Only those who needed to know were privy to what was going on, and Kirsten kept it quiet, by your wishes. 
After a few days, you were ready to get back to work and especially excited to see Chadwick again.
On Friday morning, a nervous, excited feeling kept you distracted as you anticipated 12:00, when you were expecting to meet him. 
Sitting in your cubicle, you perked up instantly at the sound of his familiar voice, filtering over from the reception desk. You could have recognized that voice if he was whispering at a concert.
“Hi, I’m here to see Y/N, is she around?” 
Your coworker shot you a curious look at the way you jumped in your seat and began beaming and rushing to bundle up your things with a sudden shot of adrenaline.
You saw him before he saw you.
He was looking around, glancing left and right trying to anticipate where you would be coming from. In the past few days, you pictured him vividly in your minds-eye, but you could never recreate how stunning he was in person. He was in a dark zip up hoodie, just form fitting enough to show off his sculpted arms, and wearing black skinny jeans bulging with his wallet. 
You were already grinning like an idiot, hurrying towards him and when he spotted you, his face lit up.
“Y/N, oh my god!” He exclaimed as you jumped into his arms. He laughed in your ear, hugging you bone crushingly tight. You breathed him in deeply, a feeling like relief spreading through you. 
“I’m so happy to see you,” you gushed when you finally came apart, grinning widely at each other. 
His eyes roamed your face rapidly like he was trying to take all of your features in at once, while you did the same. You couldn’t pick a favourite. His eyes. No, his lips. No, those cheekbones when he smiles. Oh but I love that cute nose. His facial hair… you absorbed him with ecstatic, fawning thoughts while you held him by the arms.
There was no mistaking the cracking chemistry between you. It turned out it hadn’t been a fluke, the product of strange circumstances and your jumbled-up mess of a mind. It was still very much there. Looking at him made your heart pound painfully. 
“Ready to go? You hungry?” He asked. 
“I’m ready!” Restored by his presence, you bounced out of the office like a wind-up toy after a good crank, with the receptionist rubbernecking at the pair of you as you left her sight.
Chadwick’s body was firmly attached to yours, walking with you arm-in-arm and smiling at you every chance he got.
As you rode the elevator and walked through the foyer to get outside, you caught each other up on minor news as Chadwick slowed his long-legged pace to keep up with your short strides. You kept in rhythm, left leg, right leg, synchronizing without even intending to and with the smiles and constant touches, you appeared to anybody else who saw you as a couple of smitten lovebirds. Including some of your co-workers, who acknowledged you with a nod.
There was a soup and sandwich place both of you aimed towards, serving mostly business clientele on their lunch breaks. You ordered a reuben while Chadwick got a veggie wrap and you finally disentangled yourselves to pay and carry your food to a table.
“So I have something to tell you,” you blurted the moment you were sitting down. 
Chadwick’s mouth was already full from his first bite. He lowered the wrap, setting his captivated attention on you as he chewed. 
“They tracked down the guy who attacked me through security photos, and I’ve pressed assault charges. He’s currently awaiting trial.” You smiled behind steepled fingers, half hiding your face as you awaited his reaction.
Chadwick hurriedly swallowed his bite. “Oh my god!” he gasped, “are you fucking serious? Y/N!” His chair screeched as he jumped out of it and you rushed out of yours to meet his hug.
“I can’t believe it!” He cradled you from side to side, crushing you in his arms, and then pulled back, his fingers cupping your cheeks. “This is the best news I could have hoped for. How do you feel?” He tenderly kissed your forehead.
“Honestly?” You paused as he searched your eyes, “I’m …. relieved, I am,” you breathed out. 
Both you and Chadwick took your seats again, and the people around who were staring went back to their meals.
“But?” He prompted, pushing his chair back in.
“It’s just been draining... the whole process,” you finished. 
“I can’t imagine Y/N. But you should be so proud. I’m so proud of you.” His eyes were shining. “You’ll have to tell me everything. I want the whole story,” he said decisively, putting his elbows on the table, and completely ignoring his wrap with the one missing bite.
You played with the crust of your reuben, but seemed just as uninterested in eating as Chadwick. “I will… I promise. But maybe sometime soon.” You smiled up at him.
His cheerful expression wavered a little and Chadwick scratched the back of his head. Immediately, alarm bells went off in your mind. Uh oh.
“I’ve got some news too.” He started, in a neutral tone. 
Your smile, and the mega-watt light bulb illuminating it, flickered out. “What?” 
Chadwick shifted in his seat as you waited in suspense. 
“Well, I’m going away for a bit on a project. For three months.”
Your skin broke out in goosebumps and you exhaled slowly. You had been convinced he was about to tell you something else. Like he was seeing someone. 
“Oh! When do you leave?” You kept your tone light.
“This week.” 
Though his voice was regretful in tone, you could see he was buzzing with excitement. 
“What’s the project?”
Chadwick’s eyes twinkled with secrets. “I’ll tell you when I can – when there aren’t so many ears around.” He eyed the full tables surrounding you before meeting your gaze again. “But I’m really excited about this. Maybe more excited than I’ve ever been.”
You felt his flush of happiness as if you were conjoined by the heart, and it warmed you to see. “That’s incredible news! Amazing,” you clapped your hands together. “I can’t wait to find out what it is.”
“You will,” he slipped his hand across the top of the table, weaving between plates and cutlery to find your fingers and grasp them.
“I have both a question, and a proposition for you,” he murmured, his voice warm and his face open. 
“Whassat?” You mumbled, full body tingles from his expression making you short of breath and it difficult to speak. 
“The question first, or the proposition first?” He asked with a dancing lilt in his tone.
You could hardly think straight and the words question, proposition seemed like meaningless, made up nonsense.
“Uh… the question.”
He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles and you drew a breath in anticipation.
“Will you wait for me?”
All of the thinking centers of your brain shut down as you processed his question and what he meant by it. 
In front of you was everything you ever wanted and he chose you. He wanted you. 
All you knew was his whole being made you glow from the inside out, and you were kidding yourself if you thought he didn’t feel the same way.
“Chadwick, I….” You trailed off as an avalanche of insecurities, a lifetime of feeling worthless tried to bear down on you, but you beat them back and looked him right in the eyes. 
“Yes. I’ll wait.” 
He smiled in a way that made you feel faint. Relief on his face. Joy.
“Three months?” You questioned softly.
“Mm,” he confirmed and brought your hands to his lips, smiling at you from behind your fingers, a slight playful mischief in his eyes. Like a boy who finally got the toy he wanted.
“I can wait,” your stomach was doing somersaults as you breathed out. “Wait…” you suddenly remembered, “what’s the proposition?”
He took a second to recall his own words and then nodded. “Well, my house is going to be empty…” He led off and lifted his shoulder in a suggestive shrug. “Could use a lovely lady and her dog to watch over it.”
This time you were torn. Obviously, it was an attractive idea, and generous to let you live in his space. You thought about it while he rubbed his full lips over your fingers, waiting.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you started. “I want you to know that I’m grateful. But, I’ve just signed the lease with Ariana, and I’ve already committed to at least six –“
He lifted his palm, stopping you. “Hey, it’s okay – you don’t need to explain. No is good enough for me. It was just a thought.” He wasn’t fazed at all and you surged with affection and relief to have found someone you didn’t have to explain and defend your choices to. 
Anxious excitement crept back into your expressions as you looked at each other in a new way. He had asked and you had said yes. Even knowing he’d be gone for a few months, you would be waiting for him. The thought made your brain melt. 
A burst of irrepressible joy escaped your body in the form of a short laugh. 
“What?” He grinned, cocking his head.
“I’m so happy,” you blurted out, your smile lighting up your whole face. “That’s all.”
His brown orbs were a fountain of affection as he took your hand inside both of his. 
“Thank you for trusting me. I would do anything to make you happy, you know that right?”
Your chin trembled at his sincerity. “I do. God…. I’m going to miss you.” You gave him a teary smile and absorbed every detail of his face, locking them into your memories to hold on to for the next few months.
“I’ll be calling you… probably a lot,” he smirked, “and it might not be in my own accent.”
“Oh?” You grinned. “Is it a sexy accent?” 
“I do not know, do you think that this accent is sexy, Y/N?” You stared as he suddenly spoke in a flawless, musical, soft African accent with your mouth dropped open.
“Fuck yes I do,” you laughed and clapped your hands against your cheeks, prompting him with desperation, “I want to hear it again! Please?”
Chadwick laughed, pleased. “I don’t want you to get sick of it yet.” He looked down at your totally uneaten meals, gesturing, “I’m done, are you?”
“Yeah,” you looked at your untouched food, not feeling even the slightest urge to eat it with all that was swirling through your mind.
On your way out, you linked your arms around each other, quickly finding your rhythm as he escorted you back to your office. This time, when he turned to you to say goodbye, your heart was free from the gloom that plagued you when you parted before. Now, you looked at each other, brimming with shared excitement for your future. 
“I’ll call you soon,” his hot breath and lips were on your neck as he hugged you, and he pressed a kiss there. 
“Okay,” you pulled back, about to part when Chadwick crushed his lips to yours, both of you trying to kiss around your smiles and only able to peck one another repeatedly, giggling. 
“Get outta here,” you smacked his behind and shoved him. He blew a kiss at you and you rolled your eyes, but he refused to walk away until you blew one back. “Cheesy bastard,” you murmured under your breath, biting your lip as you waved at each other until you were completely out of each other’s vision. 
When he was gone, you looked left and right, noting how a few people reacted with smiles at your overjoyed expression before you rejoined the business traffic heading back into your office building.
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swyllh · 6 years
Text
[soonyoung] in accents soft and mild
title: in accents soft and mild
premise: you’re soonyoung’s soulmate, but your working knowledge of korean is limited, and vice-versa for english AKA the language barrier that nobody mentions in those soulmate aus
pairing: reader x soonyoung
wordcount: 2305
genre: soulmate au, fluff, language fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
note: quoted italics are spoken in english; anything else is in korean. 
his name is a verdict on your wrist; a fine print of trials and errors. somehow it doesn’t strike you as odd when you realise that your soulmate isn’t just a couple of blocks or accidents away.
it’s an ocean of difference.
to forge on – past conversions of time, language, accents and ideals – mulishly boarding a plane after graduation, is less romantic than it should be. destiny yawns uneasily, stored between your passport’s waxy disuse and a list of hasty google translations. the plane whirls to a start. ready, looming.
you cramp your legs into the tiny cradle of the seat, and wait.
you’re not ignorant; despite your best attempts at mimicry, the nervous slant of your shoulders and wide-eyed nonchalance give you away as a foreigner. a tourist.
besides, the confusing rush of words on billboards and flat screens has you gulping. you pull out your phone, and try to connect to a public wifi spot. it’s still on airplane mode, thumbed down to avoid roaming charges.
a group of students pass by you, chattering and laughing. you pull your bag out of the way, tugging it closer to the warmth of your vulnerable stomach. the stench of cigarettes stings your eyes.
“are you lost?”
a startled jump as you glancing at, and then away from, a pair of plain groggy eyes. as the eyes blink themselves awake, you realise that he’s just spoken in english.
“i’m supposed to be at pledis entertainment,” you whisper.
the curve of his eyes deepen. “you’re standing right in front of it.”
“oh.” you crane your neck, looking behind him.
it’s there, the building.
“are you auditioning?” the man says smoothly, leading you through its lacquered doors.
“no, just looking for someone.”
he looks thoughtful, what little of his face you can see. you wonder if he’s famous, or if this is just another fashion trend you’ve never really got understood.
“who’re you looking for?”
you’ve reached the receptionist, and the man greets her warmly. you do the same, albeit masking your inadequacy at the language with a softer voice. she smiles at the both of you.
“there’s this singer,” you preamble, eyes darting back to the receptionist. “um, i’m looking for kwon soonyoung.”
the telltale signs of polite indifference are blatant in the room – a white nondescript desk, five black chairs and a metal stool, an office clock ticking incessantly at the five minutes they’d promised you. it’s cold, too, so you get up stealthily and tug at the thermostat.
the room is steeped in aloof hospitality, quiet and remote. you wonder if it’s too late to run, or pretend your appointment was never made. it seems wildly probably that they’d forgotten about you, or that this kwon soonyoung is uninterested in meeting you.
three knocks on the door are all the warning you get before it swings open.
he looks exactly like the photographs, you think.
“hello,” he says, bowing.
you nod a little. “hello.”
when he straightens up, you gesture towards the table, suddenly hyperaware of the distance between you. he leaves the door open for a staff member, as well as the man from earlier.
nothing really changes. you’re not looking at the world through some kaleidoscopic rose-tinted glasses, or feeling your heart settle comfortably, blissfully in your chest. from his uneasy look, you figure he must be feeling the same gutted un-satisfaction too.
you roll up your sleeve, showing his name in a meticulous inky sprawl across your wrist. he leans in, awed, casting shadows on your arm.
“wow,” he says, finally, fingers ghosting over your skin. “that’s my name.”
you vaguely understand what he’s saying, but the next exchange that happens between him and the staff member flies right over your head. it’s a sharp, punctuated exchange riddled with the easy-going abbreviations of everyday life. the staff member shakes his head, glancing over at you and then patting soonyoung on the shoulder. soonyoung forces a smile back on his lips and turns to you.
“he’s saying that it’s a miracle,” the man from earlier says, eyes regarding you kindly. “i’m joshua, by the way.”
you nod. “[y/n].”
soonyoung glances between you and joshua, barely scraping the tip of the iceberg of your dilemma. he tugs his wristband off, the velcro unsticking obscenely.
“my name,” you breathe, relieved.
soonyoung grins, an altruistic instinct. you smile back, stiff, forcing your jaw to relax.
in place of silence, you imagine conversations – motivations exchanged in hushed whispers, weaving inside jokes and bad puns into half-hearted chatter, and morbid little arguments leading up to breezy confessions.
none of that happens.
instead, soonyoung’s lounging by your side, face masked and hat pulled low. he’s taken the day off to ‘bond with his soulmate’, and though you do appreciate the company in face of purposeful, confident strangers, you wonder if he’s always so quiet.
“so you’re visiting,” soonyoung tries saying.
“yeah,” and then, “yes, i am.”
“yeah, man,” soonyoung says instinctively, and then slaps a hand over his mouth, laughing.
you grin.
“do you want eat?” he scratches his head. “rice, noodle…? burger?”
you shrug. “what do you like to eat?”
the uncertainty on his face fades away at the sound of your hesitant korean. he beams, rattling off a list of finger foods and possible restaurants nearby. you listen, you really do, but the general mutter of the streets and his muffled slangs have you furrowing your eyebrows.
“come with me!” he exclaims finally, clumsily guiding you by the shoulder.
the afternoon goes by unscathed, trailing lazily between basic conversational korean and cheerful english exclamations. after all, food is a universal language and it’s easy to stuff your face to avoid conversation. you end up pointing at random ingredients and following the slightest inflexions that roll of his tongue when he says their names.
“that one’s ‘namul’,” he says, chopsticks jabbing at the seasoned vegetables before you.
“‘na-mool’,” you repeat, head dipping forward to mimic the flow of his intonation.
he frowns. “‘namul’.”
you pop one in your mouth. “‘nam-ul’?”
“‘namul’,” he says, and then quickly moves on, “this, ‘gochujang’.”
“‘gochujang’?”
“yeah, man!” he says, reaching for a high five.
you press your hand up against his, and pull it back. with your chopsticks, you point at him, and say, “kwon soonyoung.”
he tilts his head, a look of confusion and shock flashing past his face. for a moment, you wonder if you’ve committed some cultural faux pas, accidentally insulting all ten generations of the kwon clan.  
but then the affronted look softens, and he barks out a laugh. “yeah man! kwon soonyoung!”
the rest of the meal passes by in relative silence.
the days following that are overlaid with the same hazy hesitance. soonyoung still has to train, and by extension that means you’re tacked onto his schedule, or given a free pass to roam the building. you’re technically unmonitored, but something like fear has you waiting patiently in the corners of dance studios, dodging cameras and selfie-cams. besides, once everyone’s done treating you like an oddity or childlike attraction, you don’t have to deal with the language barrier.
you’d planned to stay for two weeks or so, giving yourself time and a way out – if there’s any way out of fate. but with his consuming dedication to the group, you find that there isn’t really anything to go on before making your choice.
joshua slumps down next to you during one of the dance breaks.
“must be boring to watch us,” joshua says teasingly.
you turn your phone off. “nah. you’re only doing the same routine for eight hours every day.”
joshua cracks a smile at that. “so how’s it going?”
“it’s going,” you say, tilting your head in soonyoung’s direction; he’s still fervently chasing after the final touches of perfection. “he’s very dedicated, isn’t he?”
“he’s our choreographer,” joshua says, pride eminent in his voice.
an element of jealousy, or some frayed edge of possessiveness latches onto your gaze. you bite back the echoing “well, he’s my soulmate” and settle for twitching uncomfortably in your seat. joshua turns back to you, and takes a swig from his bottle.
“my korean’s pretty bad,” you find yourself saying, turning your phone over in your hands.
“you’ll have to learn,” joshua says. “unless you’re not staying.”
there. you take a deep breath, though it racks your chest for an answer your brain couldn’t provide. “it goes both ways. i don’t even know-”
(if i’m going to stay; if it’s worth the wait; if there’s a space for me; him.)
joshua frowns. he takes another gulp from his bottle, and wipes the sheen off his chin.
“he’s your soulmate. that has to mean something.”
the company’s not strict on dating policies. but after watching soonyoung’s elbow slip from the table(and his head bob unsteadily over his knuckles), you think it’s time to call it a night. he hasn’t eaten more than a couple spoonfuls of rice, but you’re sure it’s his bed that he’s drooling after.
“we go back,” you mutter, shamefully hoping your careless grammar will slip by unnoticed. “you... bed.”
he blinks vigorously, rubbing his cheeks. “nonononono, i’m okay, let’s eat. there’s still so much left!”
you grimace. he makes a show of rolling his sleeves up, picking up his chopsticks with a flourish and pinching at random blobs of colour on the plate.
“here,” he says, offering mushrooms to you.
“thank you,” you say.
dinner fades into a quiet lull again.
“uh,” you say, regretting it the instance it catches his attention. “what’s your favourite colour?”
it’s not the question you were planning to ask, but with his undivided attention (read: compensation), you can’t help but veer into safer territories. soonyoung doesn’t scoff at that, though you think it’s because of the effort required to coordinate an honest look of disdain.
“black and white. yours?”
you press your lips together. right now the names of colours are escaping you. “…white?”
soonyoung hums understandingly. it seems you got that right, at least.
“hey, can i see your,” he mutters something you don’t quite understand, “again?”
you pause. “one more time?”
he repeats himself; the word doesn’t register in your mind. it takes approximately five seconds of awkward staring and soonyoung’s faltering face before he realises that you have no clue what he just said. soonyoung further unfurls his sleeve, tugging it up and placing his forearm flat on the table. your name, matte and resolute, burns up at you.
you do the same, lining your arm against his. you have to lean in a little, tuck your feet under the leg of the chair and scoot closer. it’s quite a sight, you have to say, to watch the two names side by side, promised to each other.
“amazing,” soonyoung says, a little awed.
you keep your eyes locked on your limbs. the distance between them is impossibly small, shadowed in like an endless, breathless gulf.  
it’s all over the news the next day – headlines flaunting scandalously, brazenly stamped across the net; the paparazzi shot of the two of you, heads waning into each other, crescents of light against your cheeks. awed, as you stare down at your matching wrists.
soonyoung isn’t the one to tell you about you.
“[y/n],” joshua says, fingers clutching on the doorframe. “sorry, but there’s a conference about-“
you angle your phone and its incriminating contents at him. “sure.”
joshua leads you out of the lounge and down the other hallways. “it wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“wasn’t it bound to?” you say thoughtlessly.
joshua gives you a look. “was it?”
the slip of tongue catches you unaware, and as you stride down the hallways, you realise just how inappropriate it is to be saying this to joshua. that the one beside you should have been soonyoung instead. the thought slows you down.
“joshua,” you say, stomach lurching, “what happens if i -?”
“soonyoung is like a brother,” joshua interrupts, hand poised on a door handle. you can’t see his face, and maybe that’s just as well. “if you hurt him, i will make sure he forgets your name.”
it’s a mild threat. you know that well enough, as does joshua.
he pushes the door open, and soonyoung jumps up, eyes searching for something in your face. you bite back a smile, taking your seat opposite him and next to a staff member. soonyoung settles back down, relieved.
while the meeting goes on, joshua begins translating, whispering short, tense sentences to you. it’s comeback season, there’s pressure, soulmates and dating may cause more drama, the fact that you’re a foreigner doesn’t help.
“should we just come out and say it,” soonyoung says testily.
you look up at him for the first time since entering. he’s irritated, or determined. you don’t understand. but when his gaze falls on you, you think you catch a glimpse of longing and a need for assurance. sitting opposite him, privy to the full force of his intentions, and you’re still not near enough.
“uh,” you manage to stammer.
the team around the table turns to face you. soonyoung’s stare hasn’t left your face.
it’s a little hard to breathe – if your korean is a downcast drizzle, sparse and unpredictable, then your english is an ocean. and that makes all the difference.
clenching fistfuls of fabric, you forge on. “um, what’s ‘honesty is the best policy’ in korean?”
pause.
joshua’s trying his best not to laugh – you can feel the chuckles bubbling in the pit of his chest. in front of you, soonyoung’s eyes taper into thin, black lines. the pink of his cheeks must match yours.
thankfully, joshua comes to your rescue. but with the way soonyoung’s scrunching up his nose, beaming bright and thankful, you think you got your message across.
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