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sailoryooons · 7 months

Text

Lights | Episode 0 | jjk (m)

❀ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer! F. reader

❀ Summary: Meeting Jungkook was a chance of fate. A moment frozen in time, eyes meeting across a room full of lights. The more the two of you advance in your career, the more lost in the lights you become. What if you never find your way back?

❀ Word Count: 583

❀ Genre: Heavy angst, Idolverse, strangers to lovers, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Nothing really in this chapter, vague references to being a kid growing up in a competitive environment, reader being a little poetic about her childhood.

❀ Published: September 28, 2023

❀ A/N: Hola, in honor of 3D I decided to post the prologue of this thing I have been working on while on hiatus as a cool project to inspire myself to write again. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I am writing this story as though it were sort of a ... famous person tells all. 98% of the story will be in the present tense and we read it as if it's happening, with small interludes of present-day where reader is reflecting on her life in an interview with Namjoon. I have no idea if I will stick with it, so please be patient and let me write this at whatever pace works best for me. And remember - there are going to be very dark parts of this series, and Jungkook and reader both are going to have very ugly moments. If that’s not your cup of tea and you do not like to see characters epically fail and sometimes reveal the ugly parts of themselves, this fic is not for you.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This series in no way attempts to paint a realistic depiction of idols, or the industry, or draw comparisons. None of the scenes or elements in this series in any way reflect how I perceive the music industry and do not represent any opinions as a whole. This is not intellectual commentary, it is just straight-up fiction.

“In omnia paratus. Ready for anything,” you scoff, shaking your head. “Seems like a pretty big ideal for a teenager. You have to understand, we all felt that way. A bunch of kids working for the same dream, ready to push, shove, claw our way to it.”

Namjoon adjusts his glasses and nods. His long legs are crossed at the ankle as he leans back in his seat, the perfect picture of poise. His glasses are low on his nose and he’s dressed in a warm cardigan today to fight off the chill of Autumn.

“Was it really competitive?” he prompts, fingers laced together. “What was that like?”

“It’s hard to say. I viewed it through the lens of a kid at the time. I guess to me it would have felt like a game - be better than everyone else, get a reward.”

“And now, through the lens of an adult.”

You heave a sigh and blow out air. You're in the comfort of your home up in the hills, a fireplace crackling to your left. The production crew thankfully didn’t fuss with your living room too much. It was perfect the way it was, muted tones and lived in, not some minimal, sterile space like Seokjin might have or the maximalist terror of Taehyung’s estate.

“Now,” you venture, slowly stringing the words together. “I think it was where I learned to take no prisoners and to do whatever I had to do to win. Being that close to your dream, and meeting the legends you want to imitate while living in constant fear it might be taken away… it creates a feral desire in you. Feeds the monster inside the kid that has just started to wake up.”

“Would you say that’s where the hardship began?”

You shake your head. “Not the kind that we’re here to talk about. It wasn’t like - I wasn’t a child star, you know? I was still relatively normal. It was school and working on dancing and singing and all of these things because I wanted to produce music and it was hard, but it wasn’t… It wasn't cruel. It wasn’t dark.”

“When would you say is when it first really started to turn for you?” Namjoon asks, leaning forward a bit. “The first moment you can remember that you might have taken that first step towards everything.”

“In omnia paratus,” you murmur again. You think about that night, gaze unfocused. You no longer see Namjoon, but rather a shock of shaggy, black hair, doe eyes filled with promise, and an arm full of tattoos. “Ready for anything but Jungkook, apparently.”

Namjoon raises his brows. “So the night you met Jungkook?”

“In nihil paratus. I was ready for nothing, least of all the likes of fucking Jeon. That was the first night my management ever asked me to do something extreme. So I did.”

“Tell me about that night, then.”

You remember it so well. You’re not sure how out of all the memories, this one seems so preserved. Crystal clear and sharp at the edges. You remember the tight, white shirt Jungkook was wearing, tucked into dark jeans paired with boots. His tattoos were stark against his shirt and his hair was wavy, a little damp with sweat.

Jungkook had looked at you from across the event floor, an ocean swimming with swaying bodies and flashing lights, cryogenic fog hanging in the air. You’d just walked in, careful not to trip in your stilettos as you walked down the steps. Nervous. Near cracking under pressure.

And then you looked up, right at those round, dark eyes.

In nihil paratus. You were ready for nothing.

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #idolverse au #minors do not interact #minors dni

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yuly · 1 year

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How about Hotch who rejects reader once they confess their feelings? But later on he comes to the realization he actually loves the reader!!! And he tries to win her back?? I know you’d write this so well 🥹

→ hi lovely anon, I love this idea! I wrote this with a shy reader who works in the BAU but is not a profiler/agent, I hope you enjoy <3

cw: mentions of being insecure and self-doubt, angst and pain, Aaron's father is mentioned

Aaron Hotchner x shy!female reader

Time and Tide

A Lifetime

That's how long you’ve been a shy, out-of-the-way, quiet creature. You’re a diligent and skillful worker, but socially awkward and prefer to keep to yourself. You’re often unsure of what to say to strike up or even maintain a casual conversation. But your Unit Chief makes it easy. Your first year working with the FBI has been rocky but Hotch has been the most supportive and compassionate boss you’ve ever had. He is welcoming, always lending a listening ear, offering you advice and standing up for you. You quickly learn that he is an advocate for every member of his team and not just the few agents he works with on a daily basis. You find yourself admiring him from afar, daydreaming about him, and committing all of your interactions to memory.

A Year

That's how long it takes for you to build up the courage to say something to him. Having now established some semblance of a friendly working relationship, you decide to make your move. That move is to reciprocate his kind gestures for once instead of crumbling at the mere sight of him and fleeing from the scene. And it works.

You develop this tradition after cases where, after the official debrief with the team, Hotch has another, more intimate debrief with you. Your presence is a calming force, a sense of serenity he craves daily. He usually sits in his chair while you wrap up your work for the day in his office, often times you’re the one talking - about your day, the work you did, the latest office gossip, and the new boots you're saving up for. You’ve become truly comfortable in his presence, and he basks in it. Sometimes he’ll indulge you in his day-to-day with his son or a story from his days as a prosecutor. You listen eagerly, with an open heart, ready for the taking.You’ve fallen hopelessly in love with him and worry if the feelings will ever be reciprocated.

An almost fatal injury suffered on a case is what pushes you over the edge. The thought of losing something that was never yours to begin with breaks your eager heart.

A Month

That's how long you spend skirting around the words that occupy the majority of your brain space. For an entire month, you show up at his doorstep, food in hand, always offering him some company. More often than not, he takes you up on the offer. Your traditional post-case debrief sessions are now spent within the confines of his home. Aside from the physical pain in his body from his injuries and the emotional pain in your heart from loving him, nothing much has changed.

One Day

One day you finally make your move. Sitting side by side on his couch, eating tortilla chips, watching some documentary he’s been raving about all week. You turn away from the TV screen to face him.

“Aaron, I-I like you.”

He chuckles lightly in response, and a slightly confused look sits across his face, “thank you, I like you too, Y/N.”

“No, Aaron I like you more than a friend, I...I have feelings for you.”

The silence that follows your confession suffices. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, shoulders tense, jaw set tight. The energy in the room has shifted and you suddenly feel like an intruder in his home.

“Y/N…..that’s not going to work.”

That's all he manages to say before standing from his spot on the couch, awkwardly eyeing the door.

You lift your jaw off the ground and clear your throat, “I’ll see myself out.”

If you could have one wish, it would be for the ground beneath you to open up and swallow you whole. His rejection stings worse than any embarrassing scenario your mind could ever conjure. You feel the familiar thoughts of self-doubt and disgust begin to swarm your mind.

⋯⋯⋯⋯⊱⊰⋯⋯⋯⋯

You keep your head down at work, slowly reverting to your old shy and insecure self; you hate it. So when an FBI tech named James begins to hang out at your desk and bring you coffee every morning, you welcome it. You view it as a chance to rebuild yourself, to rid yourself of this heartbreak over a man that was never yours. And James is good to you, he’s sweet, doting, and totally enamoured with your being. You allow yourself to get comfortable, and receive love for once. And it feels good.

Hotch has made it a point to maintain his distance from you ever since your confession. That hurts worse than the rejection itself. He never looks in your direction, never speaks your name, and never makes any direct contact with you at all. It's like you never existed.

So when he stops by your desk one evening to extend a personal invite to the team’s Christmas dinner, you’re stunned and speechless.

“You haven’t spoken to me in nearly a year,” your words are a soft whisper, spoken mostly to yourself, but he hears you.

“That’s not true-”

“It is, Aaron. You always push people away, I never thought you’d do it to me.”

When he looks into your eyes, he immediately regrets it. The memory of your friendship comes back to him in a rush, the stories you two shared back and forth, the time you spent in his office to keep him company, all the words of advice he’d offered, the 30 consecutive days you'd shown up at his doorstep with warm home-cooked meals. All of that was your testament of love, and he threw it all away without giving you a chance.

Aaron doesn’t say anything in response. He trudges back into his office, only looking back once, desperately hoping to catch you looking back at him. Instead, he’s met with the sight of your boyfriend kissing your cheek and gathering your things to go home for the night. Your hand slips perfectly into his and the two of you walk out together.

The sight of you walking off with another man brings back a bitter memory of his father and a phrase he would often scold him with.

"time and tide wait for no man"

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #yuly writes!

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electronicwitchcollection · 4 months

Note

Hey. So, I read accidental mate in the bleach tag and I wanted to tell you you’re insanely awesome. I have never in my life read a Y/N fic because it’s not my thing but you’re phenomenal. I’ve been visiting your page daily to see if you’ve been updating and saw your post which said you’d been too occupied by too many ideas which I completely understand and relate to so I’m waiting patiently for the day you decide to upload the rest of the chapters. They’re worth it. Like that scene when you understood that Grimmjow hadn’t kissed anyone ever and she adapts her kiss to suit him. What kind of genius was that? It was wonderful to read. Also, your Y/N is soooo not annoying. I always expect the MC to be too innocent or unaware but honestly I kinda love her and wish her and grimmjow a happy life at this point. I’ve been thinking about messaging you for a week but yeah. You’re a wonderful writer. Very engaging. Every character, particularly female, you write them superbly well. I’m in love. Thank you for writing. I can kinda see just why it’s necessary for people to write what they want because if you hadn’t published it I’d never have read it and that kinda makes me sad. So, yeah.

So I have read this about a dozen times, and I’m still yet to come up with any combinations of words to accurately describe how this has made me feel. All I can really say is thank you, thank you for your kind words and support. I’m literally blown away with your praise, I haven’t been able to take this grin off my face for the past two hours.

Honestly, I never imagined the amount of people this story would reach, and how many of those would love it as much as I do. I’m aware I’ve indulged heavily on Grimmjow’s more animalistic/hollow part of his personality, but I’ve seen so many amazing fan fiction that didn’t delve into it, that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Reader figuring out Grimmjow had never kissed before was one of my personal favourites, but when I take the time to think about it, of corse he has never kissed anyone like that. He has been driven by his primal survival instincts for as long as he could remember, when would he have indulged in the practices of humans?

I once saw someone compare him to beast from beauty and the beast, and while it made for an interesting read, I could t associate the character with Grimmjow. The beast was a human, a prince. Grown up human and then transformed into a best. But he still has a man’s heart, his human brain. Grimmjow IS a beast. He has a hunters mind, a survivors heart, he’s only now learning about humans and their customs and adapting through it.

I also sometimes struggle with female OC’s / YN. Only because so many of them are either absolutely useless damsels in distress or some incredibly over powered, bad ass that it no longer makes sense with the fandom. So thank you, for realising how much effort I put into making a believable YN, someone who I hope most readers could associate with on some level. Is she so amazingly strong that she could take down Aizen with the snap of her fingers? No, of corse not, but that doesn't mean she doesn’t have her own strengths. Does she have flaws? Absolutely. Doesn’t mean she is powerless to help herself and others.

I actually loosely base all the female character off myself, as I find it easiest to put myself into the scenarios and decide how I would act. So the fact others are reading this loose representation of me, and like it! Finding her funny, relatable, kind and everything else, it honestly makes my heart want to burst.

Thank you again for reaching out, for making me so incredibly happy and proud of what I’m writing. Thank you to everyone who takes time out of their life to read what I write, to like share and comment on it. I love interacting with everyone and hearing what you love and other takes you have on the situation. I’m eager to write some more accidental mate tonight, encouraged by your love for the story. thank you 💜

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach fanfiction #Accidental mate #Asks #cant get this smile off my face

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courtofmatchups · 1 year

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I’m genuinely curious to see who I would get(you can be honest dw 💀) so can I please get a matchup? (Not Jasper tho 😟)

Also I’m really sorry if this is horrible at explaining-

I would say I’m a nice person and when I first meet people or don’t know others I’m pretty quiet but after the first few times I’m pretty chill

I tend to think more logically more often then not unless I’m with my friends and having fun then I sometimes forget

I’m willing to learn things though it takes me a few(hundred /j) times to memories things but all in all I memorize things somewhat quickly after some practice

I’m a great listener and I enjoy writing and sometimes even reading and on a rare occasion drawing(even though it sucks-), I also very much enjoy making up scenarios for random writing prompts/stories and I even imagine myself in them haha

I like sweets but I don’t eat them much

I like jokes and pranks(particularly doing them) and I even find it funny to scare people(it happens unintentionally like 90% of the time 💀) sometimes(I do it rarely tho)

I’m actually pretty quiet some(like 50%) of the time and people have actually forgotten I’m there so ig that’s another thing LMAO

I really like kids and am not that bad at taking care of some. Kids also like me a lot of the time(I chase them around and they find it funny)

I’ve been described as chaotic fun by friends and I’m also a hugger after I get to know people enough haha(I also have a tendency to jokingly steal things from my friends like their glasses and hats and put them on then run when they try and get them back LMAO)

I don’t have a single coherent thought in my head

Absolutely none /hj ( ˊ̱˂˃ˋ̱ )

I’m sorry if this is bad please take your time-

(´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

It seems you have captured the heart of

The Devious Libertine

Fenn Luxure!

Fenn, Fenn, Fenn. It seems he met his match when he first became friends with you. He likes that you seem like a nice person, and as he grew closer to you he came to appreciate the chaos you bring. Heck, he'll even join you in it. Expect to play pranks on each other and on your friends

Fenn likes the fact that you are such a good listener and will enjoy talking to you. Also, he likes the fact that you like to write, too. Your process of formulating these stories is fascinating to him, and perhaps he might even ask for your input when he decides to write a new novel.

Now, if being good with kids isn't simpable as hell to Fenn, He doesn't know what is. He'd probably see you reading to some kids at a local library or something to that equivalent, and the way the kids are totally entranced by you is something he'd never tire of seeing

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Writer's block. It's every writer's worst enemy. Now here Fenn is, slumped at his desk at his mental limit. Sitting around idly won't get the creative juices flowing, so he decides to see you.

Fenn: Treeaasuure~

You: Hey, Fenn. What's up?

Fenn: I am incredibly bored right now, and I would like your company

You: ...Writer's block?

Fenn nods

You: Let's go into town together. Maybe going out will help you clear your mind

Fenn: A capital idea! Actually, there's a new import of wine from Luxure, let's get some

Your day in town was a fun one to be sure. Some children you had read to had come up to you. They caught up with you and Fenn to chat a little bit. The way their eyes lit up as they spoke to the two of you made Fenn smile a little bit. It was simply small talk, but he felt something spark in his mind

Soon your conversation ended and the children's parents came to pick them up, and then the two of you headed on your way to get a bottle of wine to share.

You made some more stops to shop for some things before going back to the academy. Fenn had an idea for a storyline with a character based on you, so he asked you to help him "act out the plot" if you will.

Thanks to your help, he was able to actually write out the story. After a few months of drafting, his new novel came to print, and it seems like it was becoming quite the hit. This was a victory he dedicates to you

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

#fenn luxure x reader #fenn luxure #fenn modea #court of darkness #court of darkness matchups #court of matchups #this was written as if i had no idea who you were #and it shows #🥲#this was a little ooc #this was rushed and it shows #court of darkness x reader

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daydreaming-in-letters · 2 years

Text

In a week

Chapter 3

07/20/2022

Pairing: Andrew (Hozier) x Clara (OFC)

Word Count: 1,765

Warnings: rpf, au, language, a little angst, heartache, comfort

Summary: Despite their broken hearts, Clara and Andrew both enjoy the peace their little escape brings them. Until one night the dam suddenly breaks.

Masterpost

A/N: Now we come to the scene that actually inspired this whole story or at least convinced me that I had found the perfect hero to my heroine. I just can't listen to Movement and not have this scenario play out in my head.

Picture by steffi harms via Unsplash (cropped and text added)

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Hozier - Movement

Andrew’s notebook

I still can’t believe I’m here. This place is…well, I’m not sure which words to choose that could do it justice. I know she told me her parents owned a beach house, but house is not even anywhere near cutting it. It’s more like a glass palace amidst the dunes. When you’re sitting outside, no matter if it is in the lounge that expands all the way around a fireplace or by the pool, you can hear the deep rumble of the waves that hit the beach only a few metres away. It doesn’t even take two minutes on foot and I can feel the cool saltwater lap at my ankles. It’s paradise by the sea.

I have to admit, when I accepted her offer, I was a little unsure whether this would turn out to be such a good idea for the both of us. I mean, coming here to forget might prove more than a little challenging with a reminder of the fuckery we’ve been through around at all times. Well, that worry turned out to be unfounded from the moment we arrived here as our routines couldn’t be more different.

While I rise with the sun every morning and busy myself with my music, she finds comfort in sleep and walking the beach for hours on end. It’s only in the evenings that she seeks my company. She’ll come and find me by the fire, sometimes sitting down beside me or rolling herself up like a cat. She doesn’t say a word, her eyes fixed on the flames or wandering off into the vastness of space while she listens to me putting my emptiness to melody. We will stay like that for hours until at one point she’ll get up as silently as she has settled down. This is always the highlight of my day. Not because she leaves me, that’s just the customary price I have to pay. No, it’s the tender goodbye she grants me every night, applying her affection like a healing balm for my touch starved being.

First, her eyes will find mine. Waiting, searching for a sign of consent. That is when I stop singing, my fingers stilling to cloak us both in reverent silence. It’s the only way I know to savour the moment, to revel in her aptitude to fill my senses, to possess every last bit of me at this one point in time. Then her fingers reach for me, brushing my thigh, my arm, or, if I’m lucky, my hair and cheek in the most delicate of touches. While she begins to lean in, I can smell her, that enchanting scent of saltwater mixed with the remains of sunscreen and just the tiniest smidge of lavender evaporating from her hair. It’s that very fragrance of hers that forces my eyes to abandon the world every time and focus solely on her instead. Or maybe it is the faint hope that this time her lips will press to mine instead of connecting to my forehead or cheek.

“Good night, Andrew,” she always whispers while she draws away, her voice taking on that low bedroom tone that will still resonate deep inside of me long after she has vanished inside the darkness of the house.

But last night, things were different.

The sun had been burning down relentlessly all day, repulsing even the cool breeze that usually drifted through paradise from the sea and after setting one foot onto the deck after lunch, I decided to spend the rest of the day inside. Clara didn’t seem very fond of being turned into a lobster either and so we both hid away in the air-conditioned glass palace until the sun had met the sea and lost it’s scorching power.

Still, when we finally abandoned our cave, it only took one look to come to the mutual agreement that lighting a fire was out of the question tonight. So instead of lounging around the fireplace, we sought the modest chill of the pool, however insignificant it seemed. Taking my place on the vast sunbed, guitar in hand and ready to serenade her once again, I watched as she sat down at the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the illuminated water until the faint glow was set in motion and her shadow began to dance to the slow melody.

I cannot say how many minutes or hours had passed, time always seems to escape me when I am with her, but suddenly she stood. And then she moved. Slowly at first, awkward and shy, but with every hesitant roll of her hips, she drew larger circles. Soon her arms joined in, reaching out towards the nightly counterpart of the sun like a moonflower. Her style was far from graceful, nothing like the controlled elegance of a ballet dancer, yet there was something enchanting about watching her move, so flawed and free. Immersed in the music, my music, it seemed as if she gave herself to the melody completely, swaying peacefully like the branch of a willow tree that surrendered to the summer breeze.

But then what little lightness had accompanied her movements dissolved with the last tunes of the song, and the weight of the world once again crushing down heavily on her shoulders, she sank to the ground.

I remember shouting her name, wishing my body could move through space and time with the speed of my voice so it wouldn’t feel like an eternity until I was by her side. Like an idiot I asked the first question that came to mind.

“Are you all right?”

Of course she wasn’t all right. Someone who was all right didn’t cower on the ground, sobbing and hiding their tearstained face in the palms of their hands.

“Are you hurt?” I tried again.

“No. Yes. Maybe. It just hurts.”

I don’t know if these were her exact words. Her voice came muffled through her fingers, leaving me with the almost impossible task to make sense of her gibberish.

“Clara, love, look at me, please.”

It took her a moment to gather enough strength and show herself to me, unprotected by her hands, raw and vulnerable. And when she did, I could feel it too. Brutal and merciless, coming from deep within and tainting every last bit of hope and happiness it found in its way.

“I’m never going to have this.”

Hearing the pain in the tremble of her voice broke my heart all over again.

“Have what, love?”

“That kind of love you sang about. That deep, unbreakable connection not even death can defeat.”

Her confession almost made me chuckle, partly from the relief I felt that she wasn’t actually injured, partly from the sweet innocence it held. But seeing how serious she was about this made the laughter die in my throat. Softly I cupped her cheeks to make her look at me.

“Clara, this is just a stupid metaphor I came up with. No one will ever rise from the dead to crawl home to their lover. Because eventually, all love will end.”

She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts, the embers of her crushed believes rising to flames behind her shimmering eyes.

“That’s not true. You know it’s not. There must have been a time when you believed in true love. Otherwise you wouldn’t have written those lines.”

Part of me knew she was right. I had believed in the myth of true love once, but life had opened my eyes, teaching me the hard way that hearts were fickle things, as easily changeable as they could be broken.

“You know, writing a song doesn’t necessarily mean it reflects the opinion of the artist.”

She was about to cry again, her eyes already filling with the salty liquid that threatened to overflow every second now, and if there was one thing I could stand even less than giving myself over to the illusion of ever finding myself a permanent home in someone else’s heart, it was seeing her this heartbroken.

“But just because I choose not to believe that there is that one person waiting for me out there, doesn’t mean you won’t ever find your forever love.”

“I won’t. I know I won’t. Knowing my luck, he’s probably a heretic like you and how are we supposed to find each other when his heart is closed to me?”

“Sh,” I wiped away the first tear that had broken loose and trickled down her cheek. “I’m sure that however much he tried, he could never keep his heart closed from you, Clara.”

The moment the words had left my mouth, I knew they weren’t enough. But they were all I could offer, I had gone as far as my courage allowed me to go. And now all that was left to do was to take her into my arms and wait until the storm had passed. So I pulled her closer until her head rested against my shoulder, my hand slowly gliding up and down the bare skin of her arm while the other kept on cradling her cheek. We sat there for quite a while and I can’t recall exactly when or why, but at some point I must have started humming. My lips pressed to her forehead, I hummed and hummed, like my mother had done so many times when the troubles of my young life wouldn’t let me sleep.

I didn’t pay it any mind yesterday, but when I woke up this morning, I realised what song my screwed up mind had actually chosen to soothe her with.

Where Lagan stream sings lullaby There blows a lily fair The twilight gleam is in her eye The night is on her hair And like a love-sick lennan-shee She has my heart in thrall Nor life I owe, nor liberty For love is lord of all And often when the beetle's horn Hath lulled the eve to sleep I steal unto her shieling lorn And thru the dooring peep. There on thy cricket's singing stone, She spares the bogwood fire, And hums in sad sweet undertone The songs of heart's desire Her welcome, like her love for me, Is from her heart within: Her warm kiss is felicity That knows no taint of sin. And when I stir my foot to go, 'Tis leaving love and light To feel the wind of longing blow From out the dark of night

I have no idea what to make of that. I truly don’t.

Chapter 4

#hozier x reader #hozier x ofc #hozier fanfiction #hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier fic #hozier fanfic #hozier imagine #in a week

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 3 years

Text

The Midnight Coconuts

Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons. Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie.

A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.

When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.

“WAIT!”

Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?

The forces of evil are the worst.

Raising weary fists, you huff.

“What? Where is it?”

Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.

“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”

Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.

“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”

“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”

Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.

“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”

This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.

Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.

“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”

Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth.

“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”

“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”

Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders.

“Ass knives sound painful.”

“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.

“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink.

Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.

Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list.

Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.

“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.

“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.”

“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”

“I don’t have a list like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”

Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter.

“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”

“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.

The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.

When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.

One month later, the idea struck again.

After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart.

The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly?

He was hooked.

An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.

I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.

And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.

There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.

Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist.

Bliss.

Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.

“We need these.”

“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”

“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”

Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.

“Explain please.”

“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”

“Don’t say thang.”

“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”

Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.

“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”

Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.

“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”

While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.

“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”

Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.

It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:

Bucky’s Coupon Bag Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917

He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.

Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip.

“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”

Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare.

“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That sounds gross and unsanitary.”

“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”

Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.

“Hang on, turn here.”

Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.

“Dare I ask why you need these?”

A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.

“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”

He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.

“And the second reason?”

Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens.

“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”

Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.

“You know when my period’s going to start?”

He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.

“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers.

This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.

Lasagna noodles.

Egg noodles.

Spaghetti noodles.

Penne.

Linguine.

Fettuccine.

Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut.

As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.

The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.

Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon?

It’s worth the mess.

Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”

Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener.

“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”

Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.

“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”

“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”

“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.

“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”

The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display.

He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.

“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor.

“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”

“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.

“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”

He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.

“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”

“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.

“Your innuendos are tragic.”

Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.

“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”

“Maybe. But they better be real good.”

An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.

Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.

The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department.

“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”

Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down.

“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”

“Should I even ask?”

Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.

“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”

“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally.

“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”

Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.

“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”

Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.

“Like a coconut man thong?”

“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”

“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.”

Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace.

In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.

He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

Midnight and coconuts.

It always does the trick.

***

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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versadies · 3 years

Note

So, I've got kind of a weird scenario/prompt idea and maybe you're willing to tackle it. A kind of platonic Venti and Diluc because Venti has been hanging out with Diluc's ancestors forever so like... that's his favorite human. But then reader comes along as another small wind spirit just like he once was and gets on with Diluc like a wild fire and Venti gets jealous. Like 'excuse me that's my human.' But like, with a happy end for all at the end. Diluc's tired and wishes to just have some peace k thanks.

WIND SPIRIT SHENANIGANS (hc scenario)

penpal: comrade ur brain is so big brain i love this scenario sm JAHSSKHSJS

pairing/s: diluc x wind spirit!reader (platonic)

warning/s: spoilers of venti’s and diluc’s story quests and archon quest: act 1-3

sypnosis: having to spend his time in mondstadt for a long time as a bard, venti has been good friends with the ragnvindr clan from the times when he was only a wind spirit. however, when a wind spirit he has never met before gets along way too well with the current ragnvindr, things do tend to get mischievous.

note: i'm not sure if wind spirits can actually talk but in this fic: diluc doesn't understand the reader but venti does, so this usually leads to venti always talking to the reader while they make gestures and noises much to diluc’s confusion.

-> venti and diluc have a weird relationship to be precise.

-> the bard respects how diluc knows about his secret but never treats him differently, it’s what venti likes about him.

-> however, sometimes whenever venti looks at the man, he often finds himself remembering the old mondstadt days. ever since he stayed in teyvat among his people, the bard often finds himself sticking with the ragnvindr and the gunnhildr clans, getting along with each and every person from generations to generations.

-> speaking of true forms, he probably hasn’t met any wind spirits for a super long time. he doesn’t really wondered much about where he came from and where the others are since,,, well they all remind him of the old mondstadt.

-> then he met you by the tavern.

-> what in the tarnation is this? is venti’s first thought the moment he sees you; another wind spirit that’s like him but different.

-> he was honestly surprised and confused. where did you come from? how is there another wind spirit like him and has only met one now? why is diluc chuckling? so many questions filled up the bard’s mind whilst standing still as if he saw a ghost.

-> still, he decided to sit by his usual seat and drank, sometimes glancing at your way in suspicion.

-> the morning after, he thought it was simply a bizarre dream that didn’t happen at all.

-> and then he sees you again.

-> “i saved them from a couple of abyss mages,” diluc answered when venti had asked him where he met you. “they followed me since then.”

-> it was obvious that diluc ragnvindr took a liking to the wind spirit.

-> i don’t really think venti would be jealous at all— if anything, your relationship with diluc reminds him of him and the nameless bard back in old mondstadt, he sees you two as an adorable pair (in a platonic way of course).

-> when he does get jealous, it's usually just a joking manner. the only time that happens is when diluc isn’t afraid to play favorites.

“y/n, would you like a cup of your favorite drink?” diluc asks. “it’ll take a while for us to get home, the tavern is quite busy at the moment.”

venti smiles in amusement, slowly grabbing another bottle of wine –

only to grab nothing.

"that's enough bottle for you." diluc said, putting the bottle of wine away from venti's grasp much to his dismay.

"but the night is still young! might as well busy myself with a few drinks–"

"you had 30 bottles."

"my statement still stands!" venti adds with a giggle.

diluc sighs, looking at you with a tired look on his face. "alright then, what do you think y/n? should i give the bard another drink?" he asks, crossing his arms.

venti gave the red-haired man a smug look. "you're seriously letting a wind spirit take advantage of my drinks? master diluc, you do know that dear y/n and i are–"

you then shook your head in response to diluc's question, causing the bard to gasp. "you traitor! i thought you were on my side!" he exclaims with a pout.

diluc watched as you and venti started arguing with each other, sighing once more at the sight. perhaps letting these two meet was a terrible decision.

"he may be your human but i’ve known him longer than you, kid!"

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writing-in-lesbian · 3 years

Text

Haunting my Dream(s)

Synopsis: You met Natasha when she was living in Ohio. She was your best friend (maybe more) and you were hers. Everything was perfect until one day she disappeared from your life, breaking both of your hearts in the process. That night was when the dreams started. 24 years later and you can't get her out of your life. Maybe it's time you actually pay attention to your dreams. Pairing: Natasha Romanoff / Female reader. Tags: angst Disclaimer: I don’t own Black Widow or anything Marvel related. Word Count: 4.3K

I have always liked rainy days. For as long as I can remember, these types of days have held an attraction for me, it’s as if the cold and the gray clouds called me and asked me to listen to their stories. Most of the time they came to me consciously and lucidly in the daytime world.

To say those cold gray days did not put me in a nostalgic and longing feeling would be a lie. Longing for her, for the past, for the thousands of questions that remained unanswered, the hidden truths buried in the depths of my mind and my being.

Sometimes those days were torturous, reminding me of what I lost, a person that my mind tried to lock in that place where painful memories end. That comfort that usually came with the witnesses of the rain, like the smell of the grass and the wet earth, from time to time becoming my own prison, trapping me in a labyrinth of memories suppressed and assumptions.

Despite that, the rain called me like a jealous lover to the dreamlands, where I would know undoubtedly, from time to time, she would be there, patiently waiting for me.

I had never allowed myself to speak consciously about her until today, 24 years after the dreams began.

For years I did not question the meaning of it, I sought consolation thinking that it was just a feeling of longing for my "Best Friend", that feeling you have when you think you lost something good without explanation.

Or maybe it had an explanation. I don’t know.

The first time I dreamed it, it caught me off guard. Over the years, that dream became recurring and at some point, a refuge.

The set up and places always changed. A hotel, a restaurant, a shopping center, a beach, the cabin in the mountains, our old school, a clubroom, a field, her backyard ... and so I could go on with the list.

Physically she does not look like the person I remembered. It was someone else face, her skin was different and her eyes weren't the shade of green I remembered, but it was her. I know it was her, her essence is unique.

Sometimes she is taller than me. Other times (most of them) she is slightly shorter than I am. We are normally the same height.

It always happens the same way:

I find myself talking with a group of people, friends who correspond to the moment in my life in which I find myself. Friends and acquaintances, teachers and family, love interests that only appeared once and faded from my attention after she arrived. In hindsight I think that must have been my second biggest sign.

I am always in the middle of a conversation on any topic that, in the same way, resembles the point in my life where I found myself, such as high school, the next exam, the final presentation, the thesis, my recruitment, the mission. A good time, good company, but the weather is always cloudy, sometimes with a few small drops, most of the time with torrential rain.

Suddenly, my eyes and attention are diverted to someone who is approaching the group of people I am with.

"Natasha"

Her name resounds between the drops hitting the glass and the thunder that echoes in the distance. It’s like a whisper that should be imperceptible but in my mind it’s the only clear thing that I heard. Strong enough to silence the sounds of people around me and escapes my lips like a forbidden breath.

"Natasha"

I had not dared to pronounce it since our separation, a little over 12 months ago... But you should not take it for sure. There are things that my mind had blocked and was trying to avoid, so I may be wrong with the time.

She walks to us and greet us like it's a common thing. She greets everyone with a kiss on the cheek and a short hug.

She never greets me first.

When she stands in front of me, time stops for a few seconds and suddenly my arms are on her back in a hug that makes me feel that time has not passed, as if we had stopped seeing each other for a few minutes and nothing more.

Her hands draw me to her and squeeze me tightly, I feel mine bringing her closer as well , trying to communicate things that I don't know how to express. Trying to make her feel what my 12-year-old self never knew how to express.

But it’s not necessary, in the dream only hours have passed and not a few months (or years).

I distance myself from her and look at her face that reflects my smile. That face unknown to me but that my heart knows is her. I would recognize her in any dream.

Her hand seeks my hand (or is it mine that seeks hers first?) And intertwines our fingers in endless thoughts. My logic knows things that my self does not and, on this earth, I am not allowed to know yet.

With her by my side, the conversation continues as if there hasn't been any kind of interruption. The people around me do not act strangely, even those who cannot theoretically know her do not treat her differently. That we are holding hands does not cause a blink-of an eye from no one.

At one point (or is it hours later? I don't know, the time here behaves differently) I turn to look at her. I know there are a thousand things I want to say, my mind tries to sort the train of thoughts that I would like to follow but it is impossible.

"Can we talk?"

"We need to talk"

A laugh leaves my lips hearing us say it at the same time. I don't know if we were always in perfect sync or it’s something of this context.

"Alone" I hear myself say, referring to the fact that, although we have been talking for hours (o minutes) with the group of people we are, this talk is important and should only be between us two.

She doesn't say anything.

She never does.

She just takes my hand, says goodbye to the others making signs that we have to go. No one ever questions her, not me. They just accept it and we say goodbye as if we were going to see each other tomorrow.

We turn around and walk a couple of steps before I let go of her hand by shoving my hands into my pockets. She just laughs and keeps hers in her coat. The cold is less intense when we walk.

Every now and then my hips thrust into hers as she smiles at me. Hearing her laugh provokes things in me.

"Can we order something?"

"Of course"

I never know the destination, I think that it adapts to the scenario that my mind decided to put on this occasion. Sometimes it’s inside a classroom, other times it’s a bench surrounded by bushes, most of the times is a table in a restaurant, the furthest from everything. But there are always many people and doors to pass before we get there.

When we arrive, we sat down. I feel her gaze on me. The one that she gave me several times, that look that doesn’t express anything but I know that it held many questions, the one that observes me as if trying to guess my next movement or thoughts, as if she wanted to decipher each and every one of my deepest thoughts.

Or so I usually think.

"Let's talk"

"Do you know what we need to talk about?"

"Yes" my voice is confident, without hesitation I try to say it. "About us"

"What about us?"

"You know" you've known all this time. Probably even before me.

"And you too"

Her eyes drift to my lips, her gaze posing for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again. Unconsciously (or maybe it's the most conscious thing I do on this earth) I lick my lips and her eyes follow my movements again.

"Okay, let's talk then"

"Y/N, see you in a minute" ... ... ...

An alarm sounds and ...

Sometimes the chirp of the birds is the first thing I hear, other days it’s the same rain that, as a jealous lover, tears me away from those lands and brings me back to reality. This reality where I know that she is not with me, that we have not spoken in months (or years) and leaves me with this feeling of wanting to know about her.

For 24 years I had the same dream.

For 24 years I never paid attention to that need or that desire to want to know about her, which intensified as time passed. Sometimes months passed before dreaming of her again. Generally it was once a year.

For a long time, I convinced myself that I was not ready to see her, I was not ready to conclude that talk that the land of dreams denied me, always expelling me the moment she pronounces my name and tells me she’ll see me in a minute.

And now...

Now I am here, trying to finish a dream that started and has stayed with me for approximately 8760 days. Right now I'm a phone call away from asking her so many things, but I know it can't be like that yet.

When I looked for her after the last dream, it was because I woke up with a need like I had never felt before. It was not enough get used to the idea that you could be okay, it was not enough the few times I met you in the real world and turned around. It was not enough that time that by chance I found your file in Maria's files and went in to read it just to know that you were okay, and lose it days later. I imagine Hill figured it out.

After this dream and everything that happened with Thanos and the world, I knew that I had to stop being a coward. I looked for you for several days, they say that if you don’t want to be found, you’ll never be found. I tried various sides and people, but I always ran into walls. At some point I thought you were one of the people we lost when the snap happened, but your name was never on those lists. Just when I thought that again it was not written in my destiny to meet you again (and thinking"OK universe, if I should not find her I will understand") ... I found you.

It took me a couple of days to form a message. For a few hours just looking at your file and the number calmed me down, but something inside me demanded more, asked for more. Someone asked me if I was ready to write to you and I always replied that I didn't know. But my soul screamed to write to you, to initiate a contact and, although it took me 3 hours to write those few lines, at the end of the day I did.

"Hey Natasha, I'm Y/N, maybe this message surprises you a bit, but I don't know if it's something crazy or not (it could be), the point is that I've been dreaming about you (for several years now to be honest, always the same dream, never changes). And to be honest I had always left it alone, however, I dreamed of you last week and I woke up with this very strong urge to look for you, stronger after the decimation. Somewhat difficult if I'm honest, you really know how to hide very well Tasha, but finally something pointed me in the right direction and here I am. Anyway. I do not know if you will read this message or even if I will have an answer, I just wanted to know if you were okay, I sincerely hope you are. Y/N "

I convinced myself that was enough. I convinced my mind not to expect anything, that the message was what I needed to calm my soul, that it didn't matter if you didn't see it or even didn't respond to it. Deep, deep inside, I knew I wanted an answer from you. Which one? I don't know, just that I wanted or needed you to answer.

Although the dream was consistent for 24 years, the last two times that I dreamed it, after I wrote to you, dreamland presented me with two more versions, two new “options”. In the first I saw you, (now your physique corresponded with your essence) but I couldn't reach you. I couldn't get close to you. In the second we talk a little, we exchange 4 or 5 sentences, but never alone.

That was right before you answered me in real life:

"Today. 5 pm. Americana cafeteria"

And now ... am I really ready?

I think the answer to that is no.

You are never ready, at least not consciously. I just know that my heart and mind are finally in the same place. Thanos really did a huge number on various people. Including you.

The place she chose is brighter than I thought, for once the storm clouds don't feel as gray or heavy. This time, that halo of light is enough to illuminate our surroundings. We are at a table, there are some cups of coffee in front of us, you watch the rain fall while your hand plays with the handle of the cup, the other is resting on your cheek.

"Y/N I ... I don't know where to start"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything right now, just ... just let me speak first, please "

"Okay"

You access without problem. I don't know if it was always like this or not, but this time you know I need it. Maybe you also need the time.

“I know exactly what you were or what you are to me. Maybe it took me 24 years to understand it, I think it was more like accepting it. I always wondered why, you know? "

You just look at me, silently asking me what I mean with your eyes. I know deep down you know it. You extend your hand that plays with the cup and took mine. For a moment I take it and play with your fingers. I want to let go but you stop me, like an anchor tying me to this reality.

And maybe that's what he needed.

“I always wondered why it had hurt so much to part with you, why I cried in the afternoons after our fight, why I couldn't just be with you. Was it a bad or forbidden thing to love you the way I did? What was it that the universe or God wanted to avoid that had to separate us? "

"Y/N"

"I know, I know, probably, well no, surely it was a lesson we had to learn though"

Her fingers intertwine with mine, one of her fingers caressing my hand, as she always did, instantly calming me down.

“I know who I am and now so many things make sense, God, it's painful to see how they didn't before. Now I understand why my relationships did not work as I thought they should, now I understand why it hurt me so much and why so many years ago I could not face you "

"Surely for the same reasons why it hurt me so much too"

I look into her eyes. Those green irises that haunted me for so many years. Even today they do.

“Telling you that you were very important in my life it’s not all you meant to me. You were my first love you know and, well what can I say so many years later? Now I understand all my feelings towards you, now I understand the intensity and innocence that we had during our relationship. It's true when I tell you that all the years that I spent without you only made me realize how much impact you had on my life. They say that the first love is never forgotten and you know what? It's true. It's so fucking true "

“I know, I couldn't forget you either. I think at some point, you became like this ghost or this shadow that did not went away from me. I guess that's why I couldn't look for you after leaving ... "

Her voice cuts out. There's no need to talk about why she unexpectedly left Ohio that day. When I entered S.H.I.E.L.D and after hearing Barton tell your name to Fury, I decided to hack the system and find out about you. Those skills were what led me to join the agency, so I thought it would be something easy. In the end I did it, but it took me a while to do it until that day I found your file in Hill's archives.

“To be honest, I was able to accept that recently. That you had been my first love. So many years I lied to myself trying to justify that I only saw you as a friend, what a fool I was "

"Silly no detka, you just weren't ... we weren't ready"

"Could be"

“I can definitely tell you that I know I felt things for you too, I can't cover the sun with a finger, but for obvious reasons I couldn't look for you and then I couldn't dare to look for you, not after everything I had done and with so much red in my ledger. I always thought of you thou, I wondered what become of your life. I guess I don't think I was ready either and with various things happening in my life ... Now, I also understand several things. I forgive you for not looking for me that night, I understood that it was something that was not in our hands"

I lightly squeeze her hand and look at her. Slowly I turn my gaze to her eyes and there it is, again, trying to decipher what is going through my head, as if trying to prepare or anticipate something. Unconsciously I moisten my lips with my tongue.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything"

"What was I, for you?"

“A watershed in my life. A pending chapter "

I don't know if it's what I expected or not. I don't even know what I wanted to hear, but her words carry a lot of weight for me. I look at our hands again, I see slowly how her other hand covers them, as if she wanted to protect them.

PENDING.

The word overwhelms me more than I ever thought. It puts me in this state of nervousness, ecstasy, uncertainty, happiness. Of everything and nothing at the same time.

Pending. Without resolving.

Pending. Unfinished.

Pending.

PENDING.

“I know you are gay. And there were so many things between us that it would be absurd of me to try to put you inside a label or a box. You were many things to me. I've learned that you don't need a label to feel comfortable with yourself"

She stared into my eyes as I shot her a glance, lightly squeezing her hands.

I'm here.

I'm with you.

You are with me.

You are here.

"Did you ever wonder what would have happened?"

"If you had stayed?"

She can only nod her head while looking away.

"Several times. More than I would like to admit. You?"

"Every time I thought of you"

Her hands release mine and take the forgotten cup of coffee with a slow sip. I look at my warm and dark coffee, the waves caused by the movement come and go.

"I want you to be free"

Her gaze turns doubtful, intriguing even. She leaves the cup on the table.

“You said that at one point I became a ghost or shadow. I don't want to continue being that. I want you to be free. You are too important to me and I want you to be happy. Really"

"You say it like this is the last time I will see you"

There it is. The easy way out, the conclusion of many things. If I say goodbye and get up of this chair, I will end this chapter. I can get on with my life.

But...

"It is not"

"Then?"

Her gaze seeks mine, that gaze equal to that of 24 years ago where I promised my life and she promise she would never lave. That look full of so many insecurities and fears. That look that deep down we know that we would break our promises and break both our hearts.

But this time I have the power of decision in my hands. This time I am in control.

“It’s obvious that we have a strong connection. And I think the way we ended things, that unfinished chapter, where we were and at the age we were, influenced us to unconsciously drag things along and follow us through life. So I want to free you and get rid of those ghosts"

"Y/N, what are you trying to say?"

“I want us to leave the luggage that we dragged behind. I don't want you to be my one that got away”

"Please be clear"

Clear. That word resounds like thunder fallen within the enclosure and is transformed into five simple words.

what do you want?

I want... I want... I want...

I WANT.

I WANT TO BE WITH YOU.

"I want to be with you. I want to see where this connection can take us and I definitely want to know you with the intention of being your girlfriend. I want to try this. Give us a chance to be a couple. Really"

"Detka" her words stay there. I take both of her hands between mine and lift them resting my elbows on the table.

"I know. I know there are a thousand things to fix, okay? I know. But precisely for that reason, with all the more reason we should do it. It’s clear to me that we both started with a light luggage that over the years became a mega suitcase. At least that's how it was with me ”.

"Same with me"

I smile slightly.

“I know we are not the same people we were at twelve, we have to get to know each other again. For my part I have forgiven what I had to forgive of you and myself. It took me 24 years to understand and accept it and I don't want 24 more years to go by. I'm tired of running and forcing things that I didn't understand why they didn't work. I will never be ready, whatever way I think it to be. I know that there is a great risk in all this, I know the world is in chaos and the mission to find the gems has not been easy”

Her gaze does not seem surprised at this confession.

"And still you want ... but why?"

"Because it's you. As simple as that"

Probably simple wasn't the word she expected.

There are so many complications and logical reasons to run to the other side. Definitely none of this fit with my plan to find her again, but what would life be like if all our plans went according to what we idealized?

It's so fucking ironic.

But so simple to understand.

And so, so simple.

Suddenly everything made sense.

“Sorry if it took me so many years to find you, but here I am in front of you. Closing all the past and setting us free from it. Here I am, ready to give myself to you completely. To meet us and take the opportunity. I think neither you nor I need a conventional love and let's be honest, we probably don't make sense, but don’t you wanna stop asking what if? I know that I prefer to find out"

She doesn’t say anything. For a few moments my anxiety begins to take over me. I try to count the seconds and focus on my breathing. Her hand in mine is sufficient anchor to the present.

"I am"

"You are?"

"Yes detka" There is her laugh again. The one that caused butterflies in my stomach so many years ago and today causes them elsewhere.

"Like you said, if I'm here and you're here, why don't we try?"

Four words that make it all seem simple, but probably not, but what the fuck does it matter now? The universe screamed at me many times that I should look fir her, it tried to teach me the lesson very early but my stubborn self was probably opposed to accepting the truth.

Natasha Romanoff was my first love, the first person I ever innocently loved, the first person who made me question myself. She was the first to break my heart (and the first heart I broke)

And now, after so many years, I have found her again.

I feel a slight squeeze in my hands and Natasha stands up. Before I can question anything, her lips steal mine in a kiss that has been waiting for almost 8,760 days. It's everything I could imagine. Her lips move in perfect sync with mine and just when I think it can't be more perfect, her tongue asks for access and I happily oblige.

A vibration on the table interrupts us, Natasha keeps her forehead on mine, eyes closed, savoring the moment, with a peck on my lips, she moves away from me and looks at whatever interrupted our moment.

Natasha takes my hand and with a slight tug pulls me to my feet. In reality she is taller than me by about 5 cm. Her eyes search mine.

"Ready to save the world?"

I just nod my head.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #angst #unbeta'd

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Gravity

Genre: Angst, Unrequited Love

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

A/N: This was basically just a therapy write.

What is worth? It is neither tangible nor seeable. It doesn’t have a body or a shell. Yet, the endless chase to catch it, to hold it captive, is a never ending disease that eats away at the brain and tears apart the heart. It’s only descriptor is feeling. A judgement. Something either is or isn’t. When it's an object in question, the call for worth is passive, innocent. It’s wanted or it's not. The deterioration comes into play when the worth is applied to a person.

Kim Junmyeon was worth the world.

With a smile that could chase away a storm and a heart too good and pure for the human populace, he was truly worth more than the world. He was worth more than you deserved.

Not only was his face kind, but it was handsome. Beautiful, even. Candid photos were museum worthy masterpieces. There was a gentleness, a softness to his eyes and cheeks that contradicted the sharpness of his jaw and the strength of his body. His laugh was infectious and his mind as vast and deep as the ocean. The sum of his whole was worth so much.

But you were not worthy of such a person. You weren’t as stunning as a sunset over the mountains or as extraordinary as a new discovery. You were simply… you. Staring from afar, admiring but never touching.

You wished you could be worthy. You wished you could be special enough - good enough to be with him. Pretty enough would be something decent to settle for. But you were invisible. A person on the sidelines. Out of the spotlight. You were an admirer - not one to be admired.

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked, your attention torn away from the spot where Junmyeon was standing, laughing and chatting with a few of his seniors. Kyungsoo, who sat to your left at the small table in the entertainment building’s cafe, didn’t even look up from the script he was currently reviewing. He’d only been given it the day before and was still considering if he wanted the part that was being offered to him.

Your gaze dropped to the opened yet untouched notebook lying in front of you on the somewhat sticky surface. Someone must have spilled their syprup-y coffee and didn’t do the best job at cleaning it up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Without moving his head, Kyungsoo looked at you over the rim of his glasses. Even though you were sure you were nothing more than a blur to his eyes at the moment, he could always see right through you. “If you keep staring at him like that, you’re going to give yourself away.”

The ultimate nightmare. The humiliation of being found out. The sweet but awkward rejection that you knew would follow. With his laugh still ringing in your ears, you forced yourself to tune Junmyeon out.

Pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, Kyungsoo straightened and closed the script. “We can go somewhere else, if that would help.”

You wanted to argue no. That you weren’t a coward. That you weren’t going to run and hide simply because you looked at him like he was the night sky while you were stuck on the ground. You used to have better control of yourself. You used to be able to hide it better. But lately, it had only gotten worse.

And you were a coward.

“Yeah. Maybe one of the practice rooms is empty.”

“There’s usually one.”

After gathering up your things, you followed Kyungsoo out of the cafe, stealing a final glance. Junmyeon didn’t so much as twitch in your direction. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he hadn’t even realized that you were there in the cafe for the past half hour.

Kyungsoo settled into one corner of the worn navy blue couch while you squeezed into the other. Not speaking a word, he went back to reading the script. That was a nicety of your friendship. Comfortable silence was more than readily available when needed. He didn’t push or give unasked for advice. He was an ear to listen and a presence to take in when you didn’t want to be alone.

You stared down at the notebook in your lap where your next story ideas were supposed to be filling the pages. But nothing was coming out. Not even the vague pictures you’d had earlier this morning. The only things being called to the paper were the sentences held in the invisible tears you refused to shed. Words of wishes and frustrations swirled around inside the tiny droplets, every letter as heavy as lead. Your cruel mind kept echoing at you the conversation that had constricted the air in your lungs.

Two days ago, you’d accidentally overheard a drama staff worker jokingly say that Junmyeon and his current co-star seemed awfully close, more than merely friends. Stomach lurching, you ran to the nearest bathroom. Nothing came out but almost fifteen minutes of deliberate breathing had gone by before you emerged again. Kyungsoo was quick to dismiss the comment after barely three words from you. The effect, however, still lingered.

Despite the history of your intrusive thoughts, you wanted to believe that you could be good enough. That you were worthy of being beside someone like Junmyeon. His co-costar was stunning, even in real life. Someone who didn’t need photoshop to draw out gasps of awe and astonishment. Someone you most certainly couldn’t compete with in any race.

You weren’t asking for much. Just to be able to hold his hand, your fingers interlaced between his own. The fantasy you allowed yourself to indulge in at times wasn’t a grand gesture or a modern fairytale. You wanted simplicity. The smaller moments that could mean so much. Mundane, to some eyes.

Warm sun rays leaked through the closed blinds over the living room windows. A clock on the wall ticked away the meaningless minutes. Sometimes soft music hummed in the background, sometimes there was nothing but silence. Junmyeon would lay across the length of the couch with you wrapped around his side. His fingers would absentmindedly caress your shoulder or arm. In his other hand was a book, held open by his thumb and pinky. Your own hand drifted through his hair while he read aloud.

The two of you had dozens of endless conversations about books. About the ones you loved and the ones you hated. About deeper meanings and the reflections of life. His love of literature - from the celebrated classics to the obscure unknown - had been what initially drew you in. Everything else was what made you stay.

A muscle in your hand cramped. The peaceful scene faded from your eyes. The page was now filled with barely legible, ink-smeared words. You’d written the entire scenario out, along with your heart, without even realizing it.

In a panic, you ripped the paper from its spiral hold, crumpled it up, and tossed it to the trash can across the room. It missed.

“I doubt whatever you wrote was that bad,” Kyungsoo murmured. He read the final few lines of the script and closed it.

“It wasn’t,” you admitted bitterly. “But I shouldn’t have written it.” You described the scene to him while your eyes stayed trained on the loose thread twirling between your fingers.

He sighed. “You’re never going to tell him, are you?”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You’re just stopping yourself.”

You scoffed. “Why would I deliberately set myself up like that? Break me the rest of the way?”

Kyungsoo stared at you, long and hard, his expression blank to those who couldn’t read the tell-tale signs that his thoughts were in overdrive. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?”

You sniffed, though no tears were yet forcing their way to the surface. “Most days.”

“Then walk away.”

“I can’t.” Your voice broke - just like your heart. The world blurred when you shook your head. “I can’t… simplify it. But-- It’s like I was this stupid lump of rock drifting aimlessly through space, content with my life. Then suddenly, I came across this brilliant star that shined so brightly and… we collided. And now I’m stuck in his orbit. But he just keeps on spinning while my whole world had changed completely. He’s… my gravity. I don’t know anything else anymore.”

“Maybe it’s time to find your own orbit.”

Afraid it might crack again, your voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know how.”

The door creaked open and your heart leapt. Junmyeon stuck his head inside. Had he overheard everything?

“There you are! I turned away for a second and suddenly you two weren’t in the cafe anymore.”

He’d… He’d seen you? In the cafe?

“It was too loud,” Kyungsoo lied, covering up for you like he always did.

“It’s always too loud for you,” Junmyeon teased. Then his face morphed into that leader-esque expression. “We need to head to rehearsal. You’re welcome to join us,” he nodded to you.

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly in response. “I have a writer’s meeting.” No, you didn’t, but space felt like the right choice at the moment. You tried not to focus on the lack of disappointment coming from the direction of the door.

“Maybe next time.” Junmyeon slapped the side of the door. “Let’s go, Soo.”

You were actually the first one on your feet, muttering goodbyes to both of them and then walking down the hall perhaps a little too fast.

You didn’t allow your mind to think the whole way home. Every action was done in automatic mode. Only the minimal amount of awareness was used. But when the apartment door clicked behind you, when the near darkness wrapped you up, when the silence crept in and the empty couch mocked you… you broke.

Knees buckling from under you, the cold hard floor came closer and you didn’t leave that spot just inside the room as the tears and sobs crashed out in waves.

This was what you hated the most. The breakdowns that came with no excuse. They were built up by your own mind, by your intrusive thoughts. You tortured yourself with what you could never have. The attacks were random and it was only recently that you had learned to hold them in long enough until you were safe within your own walls. One time, you hadn’t made it. Kyungsoo had been there to pat your shoulder.

Kyungsoo. He was right.

That clarity was coming through as the tears dried and your breathing evened out again. You needed space. You needed to separate yourself from what wasn’t good for you and not see him. Not even have the temptation to.

This was going to hurt like hell.

The office somehow looked smaller with the bare walls. Since the day you moved in, you tried to liven it up, give it character, make it reflect the interests you loved. How were you supposed to write if this place felt like a stifling corporate desert, dry of any creativity?

Not that you ever actually wrote in this twelve by eight space. This place had been reserved for meetings and other usually boring necessities. You didn’t know the next time a budget meeting or an email check would be conducted here. You could be back in a few months and move back in as if you never left. Or someone else could take over. Only time would tell.

The box that currently had your attention was nearly full. You’d have to come back for the rest. There wasn’t much left, anyway. You took another look around to see if there was anything else you could do at the moment. The monitors were black, the tower underneath - so much smaller than the one you’d had as a kid - was powered off, and the chair that was aligned just so to your favored adjustments was pushed into the gray desk. Saying goodbye to this place really did hurt.

But you needed to do this.

And yet, you felt like you were drowning, being dragged deeper into the black water. Your lungs were screaming for relief.

“You’re really leaving?”

Your shoulders stiffened. At first, you didn’t look up at him. You weren’t sure what to say to him. Being here… it was the last place you expected him to be today. Kyungsoo would have told him, but you wouldn’t have waited around for him to appear.

“Hi, Junmyeon.” You folded up the top of the box, overlapping the pieces so it would stay shut in transport.

“I thought you liked it here?”

“I love it,” you confessed. “But I- I need to go home for a little while.”

“Are you homesick?”

“Something like that.” Definitely some version of sick.

He nodded. “Will you be gone long?” His eyes drifted over the holes in the walls leftover from the frames that used to hang in front of them.

“I don’t know.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This was…. You should go. Pushing your fingers under the box, you started to lift it to take it home.

“Do you have to go?”

The question stalled you. Confused, the box went back down on the desk. “Why are you here, Junmyeon?”

He shrugged, though it didn’t shake off the stiffness in his shoulders. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his arms all the way to his wrists covered up by the sleeves of his shirt. Lately he had been rolling them up. You wondered what had changed today. “You’re our friend.”

Friend.

Friend. Friend. Friend.

The word rang over and over like a declaration of war. Our friend.

The smart thing to do would have been to nod, say goodbye, and leave. But - instead - you opened your mouth.

“I will always be your friend.”

That didn't make him smile like you would have thought. “So, then why do you have to leave?”

You rubbed your eyebrow, fighting within yourself. You lost.

“Have you ever had a friend so head over heels for someone that won’t even look at them twice? But they don’t care? Because as long as the person they’re looking at is happy, then they’re happy. Even if your friend is completely miserable in the process. Because they no longer care about their own self. They just keep looking at the other person, doing anything that entails that they’re still happy.” You swallowed thickly to try and keep your voice steady. By your sides, your hands were trembling at this roundabout confession. “And you want to shake them. You want to tell them to get out. Because as long as they stick around, they won’t look at one else. No one else exists. Well, this is me. Getting out.”

The frown on Junmyeon’s face deepened as he let your words sink in. “Who is it? Will you tell me?”

No. Because this was enough of an admittance. Because it was time to find your own sense of gravity.

So, without a word, you picked up the box and left the office.

Waiting for you when you came back was the scene you had written in the practice room that day, flattened out but still wrinkled as it laid on the desk.

#exo #kim junmyeon x reader #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #suho x reader #exo oneshot #exo drabble #exo angst #exo unrequited love #kpop

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

Wallflower

18+ ONLY

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation, dirty dreams, implies age gap (reader is in 20s+/of age, just younger than Ezra)

No use of (y/n) in this one!

A/N: I know this was not one of the things I should be working on, and I procrastinated on my coursework yet again to write fan fic. I’m so in love with Ezra and I have wanted to write something for this character for a while. It’s my first time writing for him and I was so intimidated to write something about him because his manner of speaking is so unique that I’m worried I won’t do him justice! Hopefully you all enjoy!

Next thing I post will be the final part of Rest! It is currently in progress!

I will be updating my taglist form soon to include Ezra and other Pedro characters I write for so check out for that if you want to be tagged in future fics!

This is unedited and if I miss something to tag as a warning please let me know!

Tags and Requests and OPEN

“Ezra, for once can you please shut the fuck up. You’re driving me crazy,” you sigh, pulling off your helmet as you both return to your shared pod. It was a fairly long trek from the mining site back to your makeshift home and Ezra, being himself, talked the whole time- not once missing a beat.

“Not once have I ever had the pleasure of conversing with one as eloquently a sweet talker as yourself,” Ezra winks, making you roll your eyes. You weren’t actually mad at him, you could never, but one of the side effects of Ezra was limited moments of peace and quiet. In many ways, you and Ezra were very similar, and it made you really compatible partners.

But unlike Ezra, you really enjoyed quiet. Ezra, on the other hand, has had more than his fill of quiet for his lifetime and he basked in the ability to vocalize his every passing thought to you. It wasn’t often you felt the need to tell him to stop, but today had been particularly challenging and you couldn’t think of anything else besides the quiet of night and a good rest.

Ezra and you worked well because you were so much alike, but your differences also paired you two nicely. Ezra was without a doubt the biggest and most long-winded talker you had ever met and you were the best listener, opting to be the silent one in the conversation more times than not. You weren’t necessarily shy, just someone of a quieter nature. You mostly kept to yourself, by choice really, while Ezra struggled with solitude, it was one of the strengths of yours that you were able to endure it better than he could.

When you first met Ezra, he had called you wallflower, cause frankly you were one. Settled in the far corner of the pod with your notebook in hand, sketching instead of talking with the rest of the crew, Ezra made the effort to saunter over to you and made it his personal mission since day one to break you out of your shell. Made sure during mealtimes, he sat next to you, talked to you, asked you questions. Frankly, you owe the friendship you have with him now to his openness and talkative nature.

“Flower, I hope my parley on the trek back didn’t offend,” he says as he sheds off his suit.

“Not at all,” you say with a small smile, “Sometimes my meter runs out on my ability to listen. Tires me out.”

“I suppose I can understand,” Ezra replies, “I honestly seem to have the opposite problem, all my years in the Green, I never had the pleasure of someone to listen to besides my lonesome. Now that I have you, I find myself utterly unable to suppress my desire of spoken prose and I’m afraid I do tend to take advantage of your gentle nature.”

You nod, understanding him very well. It was coming up on seven months since you and Ezra had been on your own. The other three members of your crew had parted ways with you both, seeking out a better treasure.

Ezra, knowing what this planet and greed does, insisted on just doing his job and leaving, and you strongly agreed. It had been so long since the three of them went off for the buried riches, and you don’t even know if they will be returning to your pod at your scheduled time of departure in a few months’ time. Ezra told you stories about how he’s witnessed this job change people, and how he’s seen planets swallow up one’s humanity with no forgiveness. He was doubtful that any of them would return, and you were now starting to realize that his prediction since the beginning was correct.

Once your suit was off and put away, you smoothed out your hair as best you could by touch without a mirror, and headed over to the storage cubby where you both had your rations and grabbed you both a bar. You tossed one over to Ezra and he caught it effortlessly. Peeling back the wrapper of yours, you took a bite and collapsed on your cot.

“I never thought I’d miss those meals they served in the mess hall up in the station,” you comment, “I’d take a portion of those watery mashed potatoes and mystery meatloaf in a heartbeat if it meant I never had to touch one of these bars again.”

Your words made Ezra chuckle, his laugh deep and husky. You loved it. Your chest always swelled with pride just a tad when you had the ability to make him laugh or smile. More often, it was always him getting those reactions from you with his words and you liked the feeling when you were able to return the favor.

You closed your eyes, not falling asleep, just letting them rest while you chewed the rubbery ration. Ezra, tore through his always rather quickly, and he noticed that you still tried to savor yours despite your complaints. Like the taste, even though lacking and the texture terrible, was still like a reward for completing another hard day’s work. He admired that about you. You hadn’t been working this job as many years as him, as he was a few (plus a few more) years your senior. The things about this job he’s long since ignored or has gotten used to, still affected you. You still tried to taste your food, instead of scoffing it down like him and other seasoned prospectors.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt flushed knowing that he had been caught. It wasn’t intentional, more and more it was hard to keep his mind clear of thoughts of you.

“Sorry, flower,” he mutters, and you smirk, rendering him speechless for the first time all day.

It was undeniable that Ezra’s feelings for you were bubbling up closer and closer to the surface each passing day he spent in your company. You grounded him in ways he hadn’t realized he had needed. He needed someone to reign in his ramblings and tether him back when he lets his mind wander too deep. He needed you. There was this dependency that tied him to you now more than he ever experienced with another partner. It was friendship, sure. But he’s been friendly with partners past, and not once has he felt about them what he feels towards you.

He was a hopeless romantic, his thoughts of love and relationships were as poetic as the words he spoke. Yearning, completely head over heels, his mind constantly cluttered with scenarios of the ways he would court and win your affection if there was no inkling that lingered in his mind that was there to remind him it was a bad idea. You were much more practical than he ever hoped to be, much more wired for logic than he was. However, Ezra was blissfully unaware of how he had begun to rub off on you.

You found yourself daydreaming, caught up in your own little fantasies and escapes from reality, far more often than you had ever in your lifetime. Ezra, always the star at the center of it all. Living a life where you could stay with him somewhere more permanent, different career that didn’t require you both to float from planet to planet, chasing after prizes that weren’t actually yours- you just acted as a vessel, a taxi service for someone else’s riches.

You imagine scenarios where you would have met Ezra at a different time, or a different place. However, you often scolded yourself for allowing your stupid crush to occupy so much of your time. You were here for a job. And then you will leave and move on to your next one like always. It would be too painful to face rejection anyways, you reason. You can imagine the look on his face, thinking about the nicest way possible to reject you. That’s what you want to avoid, the pity. The niceties that will be forced after his inevitable rejection. The first friendship you’ve had the pleasure of having in years are gone just like that.

The pod was more spacious than the pod you would’ve been issued had it just been you and Ezra since the beginning. Two people sharing a pod designed for six felt much more like a livable space. More leg room, more spaces for privacy, it felt a little more like a studio apartment special wise than a glorified tent. You had even pushed a couple of the standard issue cots together and secured them tightly. You had the luxury of an extra pillow, and two of the thin mattress pads- it was like you had a full-size bed, with a beam running down the middle you did your best to cover by overlapping the mattress pads in the center. It was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you’ve ever had on these expeditions.

Ezra and you strung a line across where both of your makeshift beds were positioned in the pod, and you hung a tarp across the line to make yourselves a privacy curtain. It was like you had your own room and he had his own as well. Ezra’s side was a little cleaner than yours, yours was a little cluttered with little mementos you find and want to bring back with you. Rocks, or small geodes… occasionally you’d bring back small plants that you double checked were nontoxic and you had them set up in makeshift planters- one of the crewmates that left abandoned an extra helmet that was damaged, and now you have an obscure green and purple plant sprouting up proudly from it.

Ezra’s side was much more standard. He had a pile of his old books, all of them weathered, looking like they’d been through hell and back. He had field books, and notebooks that held his years of accumulated knowledge of how he’s survived the Green. He ended up copying your bedding arrangement, and he agreed it was the most comfortable bed he’s had in years. He said it felt like a luxury a prospector like himself didn’t deserve. He also had a small collection of rocks that lined the ledge behind his bed. Little gifts from you, all of them.

“This one reminded me of you,” you’d say, passing him a unique rock while you struggled to keep the handful of the others you collected balanced in your hands. The grin on your face when you’d collect the little things was one of his favorite sights. When the partition that separated the beds was opened, it was a comical sight. Like a bedroom of a married couple on old television shows, where they had different beds and each side was decorated to that person’s tastes. Most of the time though, the partition was closed.

It made changing easier, the bathrooms and showers in pods no matter the occupancy size always had small, cramped bathrooms. However, it created a false sense of privacy because it did absolutely nothing in terms of suppressing noises. Ezra sometimes babbled nonsense in his sleep. The man literally unable to stop talking even when he was rendered unconscious. Most of the times it was completely incomprehensible, not even sounding like real words. Sometimes you’d hear a sentence maybe, but without knowing his dreams it was still alien to you. It was comforting to you hearing him on the other side of the partition, and knowing he was right on the other side made it easier for you to sleep.

Tonight, was no different, curled up in your bed, you were drifting off to sleep while Ezra had long fallen asleep before you. The weight of today’s expedition felt like it melted right off of your body as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were close to falling asleep, just savoring the moments of comfort before letting your mind drift when you heard Ezra say your name on the other side of the makeshift wall.

“What is it, Ezra?” you whisper, grumbling that he interrupted you right before falling asleep. He doesn’t respond, and instead you hear a low snore on the other side. He must’ve fallen back asleep, you figure, closing your eyes. They shoot open a few minutes later when he repeats your name again, but this time it’s a deep moan. His voice was husky and it sent a vibration right up the back of your spine. Your eyes widened at the realization that on the other side of the curtain, Ezra was dreaming about you. You shivered when he let out another involuntary, low groan. If you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have even heard it.

What do you do? You mind is racing with trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Do you wake him up? You also try your hardest to ignore how every small noise on the other side of the curtain is just going right to your core, making your thighs squeeze together while you keep your own arousal at bay. It was wrong of you to listen in, but you really don’t have much of a choice. You force yourself to take a few unsteady breaths to calm yourself, but it does nothing to ease you in your shocked state. Kevva, the noises he was making were like music. You often wondered what he would sound like. His voice on its own is already so perfect. But in this context? You wanted to hear nothing else.

You don’t even know how long you lay on your bed paralyzed before the temptation becomes too much and you are sliding one hand down the length of your torso and into your sleep shorts. You delicately slide your hand under your dampened underwear and your fingers instinctively find your clit. You bite your lip, trying your best to suppress the whimpers that escape your lips as you think about the man behind the partition. Your months of pining for him you finally let yourself submit to.

It had been a while. There was no privacy on the pod at any moment. When someone was using the shower, from the other room everyone could always hear the rustling around, if they were humming. It was better to just not try at all. The risk of getting caught was always too high. This was the first time you acknowledged and succumbed to your desires this entire mission. It had been so difficult to avoid, but now, you are taking advantage of the opportunity presenting itself to you. You weren’t even thinking twice, just closing your eyes and imaging the fingers inside you belonged to Ezra. You were so caught up in your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that Ezra’s side of the room had fallen silent.

Ezra sat up on his bed, His eyes fixated completely on the tarp that was the only thing separating him from you. He felt shameful, waking up from another dream about you. He woke up hard, and he felt immensely guilty. Then he heard your soft moans you were trying so hard to hold back. Now he sat on his bed, completely captivated by the noises on the other side, while he pleaded with himself to either make a move or just try to ignore it and get a few more hours of sleep. He snapped when he heard his name fall off your lips in a small whisper.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” he hears you say on the other side of the curtain. He smiles, probably ear to ear like a goddamn dopey teenager. He stands up and pulls the curtain back, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you laid out. You had stopped, knowing your statement would cause him to pull the curtain back, but the evidence of what you were doing still lingered- your hair sprawled out messy on the pillow, your sleepshirt haphazardly pushed up exposing the smooth skin and curves to him, the slick on your fingertips and the small wet spot on the front of your shorts. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he thought he might collapse on the floor at the sight of you.

“Flower,” he whispers breathlessly in the dark. The only light coming in was from the moonlight outside from the small window on your side you had opened. He thought you looked ethereal, a sight to behold that he was not worthy of gazing upon. He’s speechless. You can’t quite make out his facial expression in the dark and you mistake his breathless tone for discomfort.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, sitting up slightly. “I just... I heard you dreaming about me; we don’t have to bring this up again. Its just loneliness getting to me…”

He tentatively kneels down in front of your bed and you move to hide your face in the pillow so you don’t have to face him. He gently cups your face in his hand, and guides you back to face him. He actually says your name, and you might die hearing it on his lips.

“If what you say is true, and this is nothing more than a lapse in judgement, fueled by the loneliness of the Green, I swear to you I shall never as I live hold this moment against you, and you and I shall commence in the morning living like it never happened. But, if there is any chance these feelings that I have harbored for you are reciprocated, please grant me this opportunity to show you how much I am completely transfixed by you.”

You are now the one rendered speechless as you try to process the new information and the proposal Ezra has offered you. You are having difficultly allowing yourself to believe any of this or anything he says is true. Part of you was wondering if this was part of a dream and you hadn’t yet realized you were asleep. You had to reach out and touch his face, feeling his stubble under your touch, any sort of evidence to know he was physically right there.

“You’re real,” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles. He takes the hand which you had rested on his face and he presses a kiss to your wrist.

“The number of times I have thought the same thing about you,” he mutters, moving your hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Flower, please…”

“This is more than a just a whim,” you admit, exhaling shakily, “Ezra… I love you.”

“Oh, how I’ve longed to hear those gracious words on your lips, flower,” he smiles, his gaze not breaking from your face.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss, unable to take being separated from him anymore. You move your lips against his and you can feel his smile as he moves to position himself on top of you, not even needing to break the kiss. Your limbs tangle with his, and you run your hands through his tousled curls, wanting to just let your hands touch every part of him that he would let you. He rests on hand on the back of your neck, while he uses the other to keep himself from putting all of his weight on you.

“You’re bewitching,” he says softly, as he pulls away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses and bites down your neck and collar bone. “Your beauty is unmatched by anything these tired eyes have ever witnessed,” he praises, as his hands move to slide nimbly under the fabric of your shirt.

He plans to take his time, to completely worship every part of your body and vocalize in every way how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. His moments are slow, and sensual, making you feel like complete putty in his hands. He wants to savor absolutely every part of this shared moment. For so long has he dreamed about this, and so far, everything about you- your noises, your soft skin, all so much better than he ever envisioned. His calloused hands savor every inch of you they graze, committing how every part of you feels to his memory.

His moustache and stubble leave goosebumps behind on every part of your skin he kisses. He leaves a trail of marks behind that with time will definitely darken into small bruises, evidence he can gaze upon tomorrow to remind him this all was not just a dream. In his head, he pleads with his maker that if this is a dream may he please never wake up and suspend him in this sleep state forever. A small price to pay to have you entangled in his arms.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over as he kisses down your body, pressing kisses to every inch he can see and touch, just like he’s wanted to for so long in these strenuous months. His movements are gently, and you moan softly at the sensation of his knuckles grazing your skin as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you know completely bare in front of him.

“I want to spend the rest of my days between these thighs,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to your inner thighs and his hands grab them and pull them apart gently. Like a man starved, his tongue works skillfully, giving you so much attention. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he sucks on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. He loves the reactions he can elicit from you and he loves the taste of you. You’re as touched starved as he is and he wants nothing more than to stay between your legs for hours as you moan praises, and shudder under his touch. You back arches and you can’t help but squirm at the sensations, but he holds your legs gently, keeping you in place. The first time he brings you to orgasm is by his tongue, and you can taste yourself on his lips when he finally comes up for air.

You can’t even think of anything to say to reciprocate his words, your mind is hazy and you’re overcome with the feeling. He doesn’t seem to mind, and the look on his face almost proves how proud he is to be the one who’s the cause of your current state. He’s just so wrapped up in how your body is responding to his every move, he doesn’t care you’re completely speechless. The feeling of it all was just too much to try to attempt vocalizing coherent thoughts.

When he finally pushes himself inside you, it completely takes your breath away. He makes sure to go slow, taking his time and letting you adjust. He also needs to steady himself, because the feeling of you wrapped around him is incredible. It’s perfect, and he wants to take his time, but your so tight and feel so good, and it’s been so long since he’s experienced such an intimacy.

“You’re perfect,” you moan softly at the feeling of how he stretches you.

The compliments that fall from your lips, go right to his head, inflating his ego. His kisses become more frantic, and passionate. His hands shamelessly wander the length of your body, groping at the flesh, wanting to just worship every part of you, to just touch every part of you. His rhythm is slow at first, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer and his mind is frenzied at the sensation. His movements become much more sporadic, chasing his relief as you cry out how close you are as your face rests in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and bites on his neck, leaving your own marks on him like you were returning the favor.

“Cum inside me, Ezra,” you whisper, nibbling his ear and he groans hearing something only in his dreams manifest in the flesh. “It’s safe.”

He bites his lip and you tug gently on the ends of his hair, a moaning mess under him. The way your face contorts when you orgasm for the second time and the sensation of your release is the final sensation that triggers his own. He collapses on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck, whispering again how perfect you are before pulling out and rolling over to lay beside you.

You both are breathing heavily, glistening with sweat and feeling euphoric after coming down from the high. Your chests rise and fall as you both work to catch your breath before either of you speak. It’s a comfortable silence, both of you trying to recover. He looks over to you, and you match his gaze. You roll over onto your stomach and rest your head on his chest, taking a few moments before cleaning up. You rest your arm across his torso and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Here, in the depths of this dangerous planet, you felt safe in his arms. The excruciatingly long days of physical labor, chasing after promises of riches feel fruitless now more than ever, because the best thing you ever found in the Green had been right next to you the entire time.

General Taglist:

@sassy-kassaay

@letsfly-andbe-free

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seonghwashibber · 3 years

Text

Proving to love

Pairing: Tattoo Artist! Single Dad! Yeosang x Teacher Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Note: This story is written for enjoyment for the audience of this blog. I do not support abuse in any way or shape. Please do not think I believe this is okay. I was thinking, if this became good, If you guys would let me know if you wanted more.

Tag List: @latte-fairytaekwoon @queenofgames @moonchildsmoon @subways-stuff @actuallythatwaspromise

Scenario: Single dad Yeosang, Yeosang tried his best to make a life for his daughter, ever since he left her mother. Y/n is Yuna’s teacher, after talking to Yeosang about her behavior. The two don’t meet eye to eye, yeosang tries to prove to Y/n he’s a great father, and possible lover too.

The sun shined throughout the house, Yeosang was asleep he was exhausted from last night’s tattoo session. Kang Yeosang was a tattoo artist, he had tattoos himself, His right ankle had a moon tattooed in perfect smooth ink, His left arm was tattooed with a dragon, the cherry blossom on his right hand had set perfectly, while his daughter’s birthday was inked perfectly on his finger, on his left hand. The medium sized tattoo was placed on his neck. It was a heart but it held much meaning to him, every tattoo held much meaning to Yeosang. Sure he looked intimidating, he would always sit with no expression, maybe the ink on his body scared people? What if the eyebrow and tongue piercing is giving it away. Yeosang was reckless, he remembers the time he got so drunk he went and slept with a girl, she gave birth to his beautiful little Yuna. Who was now 8 years old without her mother. Yeosang was in a toxic relationship with her for awhile. She had become jealous of the bond the two carried since Yuna was born. It got bad to where she abused Yeosang, to where she hit Yuna whenever Yuna made one small mess. It got worse, to where Yeosang had hit her...only once. Because she was not letting go of Yuna who was scared and crying her heart out from the physical pain through her body. Yeosang soon moved out, taking his daughter with him and never ever going back to her again.

Yuna walked downstairs, she frowned as she put the bag beside the chair. “You don’t seem so enthusiastic?” Yeosang asked. Yuna sighed, “I wanna keep my hair down appa,” her lip quivered. Yeosang knew why, her birthmark, just like her father she had her birthmark on display. It was much more red, bigger and set on her right cheek. “You look beautiful, Yuna you are my child, and what have I always taught you?” he asked. As he adjusted her cat shape earrings. “To stand up for myself and always defend myself,” She smiled as he nodded his head and went back to cooking. Yeosang smiled as he remembers all the moments he spent with Yuna before school came along, friends, etc.

Yeosang held Yuna’s hand as he walked her into school, standing at the front desk. “Good Morning, Mr. Kang,” the front desk lady said. She never liked Yeosang, the two argued a lot, maybe more than others could count. “Good Morning to you too, I’m just here to check Yuna in, I don’t see why you guys have a desk,” he rolled his eyes. She scoffed. “Because it helps us keep up with the kids and figure out who comes in or may be missing,”. Once he checked Yuna into school, she held his hand giving it a small squeeze. “Can you walk with me? I don’t wanna show up alone, and we have a new teacher, She could be mean to me,” Yuna said. Yeosang ruffled her hand with his free hand, walking her to her class. “It doesn’t matter who she is, tell me if she’s mean, I’ll handle it,” he said as he opened the door. The class looked at Yuna and her father. Some kids finding him scary and intimidating, others judging Yuna for claiming such a man as a father. “Welcome to class, I’m Y/n,” the teacher said. She gave Yuna a small smile as she got down to her height, sticking her hand out. “Yuna,” she said as she shook the older woman’s hand.

Yuna walked to her seat, You looked up to see her father, standing up to your regular height, You took in his appearance. He was very handsome, his dyed blond hair had sat perfectly on top of his head, his tattoos, his eyebrow piercing. His gaze, all of it could make a woman fall in love in a second. “You must be the father, I’m Y/n, the new teacher,” you introduced yourself. “Kang Yeosang,” he said in a low tone. You caught sight of his tongue piercing. “Yuna gets out early today, we’re scheduling a field trip for the kids so they get to leave a bit early,”. He nodded his head, not giving an expression and walking out of the classroom. You felt a little off about Yuna being his daughter. I mean they were identical, but was she in good hands?. You didn’t wanna snoop but you couldn’t help but be a bit suspicious of the situation. “Okay class, Today we’re gonna team up and study for our written test, Hangul is important to learn,” you said as you eyed around at the kids. Yuna was a clone of Yeosang, no doubt, but something didn’t feel right.

Yeosang walked into the tattoo shop, he had dropped Yuna off at her school, Now he can come to work and relax until he’s needed. “You look like you had a bad morning,” Yunho remarked as he looked up from the tattoo he was working on. “I’m having a good morning, just a little tired, taking care of Yuna isn’t easy you know,” Yeosang said. Yunho nodded as he turned back to work on the tattoo. Yeosang walked back to his station, he felt sadness overtake him, Yuna didn’t seem to be having a good day. Yeosang tried his best to help his little one with her temper. But sometimes it became too much for him to handle. While raising Yuna, Yeosang had noticed his daughter was angry. He soon found out that she was angry for not having a mother, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy to just go fish her one out. He knew it would take time for him to even find someone special for them both, Yeosang wasn’t an easy guy and he learned not to settle for just about anyone. He learned that he had to play it smart, mainly for Yuna’s sake. “You have a client today, Something about a ankle tattoo?” San said. “Send em in,” Yeosang said, he put the cigarette down as he got everything ready.

You sat at the desk, looking over some papers as the kids chattered and worked on their Hangul in groups. The door opened to reveal someone, someone you’ve never met at the school. “Is it okay if I see you for a moment Y/n? It won’t be long,” he said. You nodded your head as you stood up. “You kids continue to work together, I’m going out to speak with someone,”. The class hummed as you walked outside of the room, closing the door behind you. “I’m the art teacher here, Park Seonghwa, I wanted to come visit you to ask you if I can pull Yuna out of the classroom? I needed to speak with her for a moment about the art project she had missed,” he said. You nodded your head and told him to give you a minute, You opened the door and noticed the kids were arguing. Yuna, Mung, Hana, and Jun. Sighing you walked over. “You can’t be mean to Mung like that, Hana!” Yuna yelled. Hana snatched the pencil from Yuna as she jabbed Yuna with it in the cheek. “You need to watch out, You tomato face,”. Before you could speak up to catch the attention of the kids fully, Yuna had jumped across, She begin to hit Hana over. Tears filling within her eyes. “Children, Quit!” you yelled out as you pulled Hana away. Yuna had glared at you. “Yuna, Principles office, now,”. She stomped away as you looked at Seonghwa. “Could you please take Hana to the nurse,”. He nodded his head.

Yeosang laughed with the client, almost done with her tattoo, the two begin to chat up a storm. “So your girlfriend does tattoo’s?” Yeosang asked as he leaned back in his chair. He grabbed the cigarette from the table side, lighting it and inhaling it. Seulgi hummed as she smiled. “She’s been doing them for awhile, but when she later was sent out to see her family, I started to miss her and wanted to get a tattoo on my ankle to surprise her,” Seulgi explained. Yeosang exhaled the smoke from his mouth before nodding his head. “That makes sense, plus on top of that you got a badass tattoo,”. Before the two could speak further, San rushed in, holding Yeosang’s phone. “Yuna got in a fight at school, they need you there,”. Seulgi frowned as she waved Yeosang off, He had told San to finish the tattoo and he walked along out of the door. He was a bit proud inside, Yuna was finally sticking up for herself, just maybe not the way he expected or wanted her to do it. Yeosang rushed to the school, he wanted to make sure she was okay in every way possible. When he arrived he walked in the office to find Yuna slouched in the chair, avoiding the burning gaze her father sent. She was aware that she would be in serious trouble for it. “Please have a seat, Mr. Kang,” The principle said. Yeosang sat in the chair beside Yuna.

“I would like to just say that I’m not aware of the full story but I do wanna say that whatever is going on personally, is effecting Yuna during school hours,” he said. “I can promise you Mr. Kim, I’m in no way putting my daughter in harm, you must have the wrong idea about me,”. You opened the door and looked at the three in the room, gently putting the bag beside Yuna. “I brought her backpack,” you said. “Could you please tell Yeosang what happened?” he said. Yeosang soon turned his head towards you. “Uhh...Well, I was brought outside the classroom by Seonghwa, he wanted to speak with me, When I came back to get Yuna for him, I found the kids arguing, I couldn’t very much hear or understand the situation well, except for the fact that Ms. Yuna here is causing fights, but her behavior wasn’t the best this morning,” you explained in full details. Kim Seokjin nodded his head as he looked over at Yeosang. “Yuna is always sad throughout her day, she’s either hitting the kids, making smart remarks, or she often avoids everyone. Last week, Yuna came to school with a bruise on her cheek, it seems to still be there, I know you must be putting her through a lot, I would hate to get anything serious involved, so fess up or your daughter gets suspended from school,” he said.

Yeosang stood up quickly, knocking the chair back, his glare on the older man and you were strong. But you looked over to see Yuna a bit shocked by her fathers sudden outburst. “You two are terrible, My daughter is perfectly fine, her home life is good and doesn’t concern you, If you think I’m just some deadbeat or uncaring father! you’re wrong! And it’s her birthmark!” he yelled as he grabbed her bag. “Suspend Yuna,” he said as he guided his 8 year old daughter out of school. You followed behind the angry man, when you made it outside, he was putting her in the car, putting her bag in. “Mr. Kang,” you said as you approached him as he was closing her car door. “What? Did you come out here to judge me?” he asked. You sighed. “Your behavior could be taking a toll on Yuna, I don’t think you’re giving a good example to her, for one, you are teaching her how to be careless in this life, which is no way to abuse her young mind,” you explained. He glared at you. “Look, Just shut the fuck up okay?!?!”. You soon felt anger take over you. “I’m telling you that the way she’s acting isn’t okay! And you know it!”. He soon pinned you against the car, the smirk plastered on his face. “You know what? I got some news for you, I’m a good father, a single good father at that, and I’m gonna prove it, one way or another,”. Yeosang snatched your phone, as he placed his number in it, he handed it back and left without giving a word. You were shocked but a little smirk showed on your face, you were up for a challenge.

Later that night, the rain fell heavily from the sky, Yuna sat at the dining table, a frown on her face as she looked down. “You haven’t touched hardly any of your food,” Yeosang said as he eyed the full bowl. She only hummed in response. “What’s gotten into you? I took you to anger management? I’ve done everything I could for an 8 year old, yet you still choose to act out, Why did you hit her Yuna?”. Yuna looked up at her father, the sight broke his heart, her small eyes, filled with tears as she wanted to give up already. “Hana made fun of me again, She was being mean to my friend, So I wanted to stop her, and she was making jokes about my face, So I hit her...I’m sorry,” she apologized. What she didn’t expect was the chuckle leaving her fathers lips. He was proud of her. “What’s funny?” Yuna asked confused. “What’s funny is that you assumed I was angry at you for sticking up for yourself. Look, I taught you to be happy with who you are, Just next time walk away from the situation,” he said. The knock at the door interrupted the father and daughter moment. Yeosang stood up, opening the door and soon seen you. You held the umbrella tightly as you smiled. “Mr. Kang, I’m sorry to be showing at this hour, but I brought some work for Yuna to do,” you said. He slowly took the papers from your head before opening the door wider. “Come in, It’s cold out there,” he said. You shook your head. “I’m fine, I’m gonna be going home,” you said. He shrugged and grabbed your wrist, gently guiding you inside. He closed the door.

“It’s cold, you should lay low here for a bit until the rain decides to stop, would you like to have some Ramen?” he asked. You nodded your head and followed him to the dining room, you had to admit. His place was very nice, much nicer than you thought. It was clean too and it smelt pretty decent. “Yuna, Your new teacher’s here to give you some work and have Ramen with us,” Yeosang said. You sat at the table, bowing your head slightly to the little girl. “I’m sorry about earlier,” Yuna apologized. She had bowed her head as she finished the broth in her Ramen. “You hardly ate anything, you just sat and drank the broth, You need to fill up your stomach princess,” Yeosang said as he kissed Yuna’s forehead. She whined. “But I don’t feel like eating a lot appa,”. He chuckled. “Alright, Well go change into your pajamas, Brush your teeth, brush your hair really good, and lay down, you might not be going to school for awhile but you still have a bedtime little lady,” he said. She nodded her head before waving bye at the two adults, making her way upstairs. Yeosang sighed as he placed a full bowl of Ramen in front of you. “I’m sorry about Yuna’s behavior at school lately, but you have to understand, Yuna is just a small girl, she’s growing up without a mom, as her dad I try to learn things so I can teach her but please next time, Instead of making me wanna punch that stupid Seokjin in the face, Just agree with me,” he said. You chuckled as you ate the ramen.

You two had talked for a bit of time, you got to learn a few things about Yuna and her father. Even though you recently met a lot of people today, you found a lot of interest in the family. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is Yuna’s mother?” you asked. Yeosang shrugged as he sipped his Soju. “I left her a long time ago when Yuna was a newborn still, she was toxic, we weren’t working out and a lot of bad things were happening,” he explained. You only frowned. “What do you do for a living?” you asked. “I’m a tattoo artist, I was an irresponsible idiot who thought the world revolved around me, soon I fell in love, had Yuna, moved away, raised her alone, and it built me into the man I am today,”. Soon the small girl had came downstairs, walking towards her dad with a frown. “Appa, I’m not feeling well,” Yuna whined. He put the Soju on the table as he picked up Yuna, putting her on the counter and checking her forehead. “Running a fever, Get the medicine out of the cupboard for me,”. You did as he said and walked over. “I’m not taking it!” she whined louder. Yeosang frowned. “Guess you won’t be a pretty and strong princess when you grow up,” he said. She finally took the red colored liquid, she whined as she begin to cling to you. “I’m tired,” she said. You sighed. “Yuna, You must get rest, when you rest and take your medicine, you’ll wake up and feel better, I promise,” you said. She soon drifted to sleep. Yeosang thanked you and took her from your arms.

He put her to bed, she gently opened her eyes. “Appa, Where is Eomma?” she asked. He stopped his sudden movements and frowned. “She’s somewhere else, probably off living her life Yuna, but don’t worry cause you have me okay?” he said. “Can I sleep in the bed with you?” Yuna asked. He nodded his head. “Of course, just as soon as your teacher leaves, I’ll be back up here,”. He kissed her forehead as he walked downstairs. You smiled a little. “It was really nice being in your home Mr. Kang, Really but I have to go, just be sure Yuna does her work and you don’t let her slack off,” you said. He rolled his eyes. “Call me Yeosang. And stop doubting me, Yuna is in great hands, I can assure you of that, but I have a lot of things to do tomorrow, can you come by tomorrow to help Yuna with her work?” he asked. “I have to teach tomorrow, Will tomorrow night be fine?” you asked. He agreed and you thanked him, walking outside of his place. You felt good and you couldn’t wait to see where things were going.

The next day was like any other day, you taught your class, picked up some food, chatted with some people for a bit. And finally night fell, the night you would be helping Yuna with her work. You knocked on the door waiting for the answer, when the door opened, you found Yuna. “Where’s your father?” you asked. She smiled. “He’s getting dressed in the room! And you were right Y/n! My fever is gone, thank you so much!” she hugged you. You hugged a bit as you entered the home. Once the door closed, Yeosang came out, he wore a black shirt with a black leather jacket. His ripped jeans and shoes going along with the jewelry and ink that fit his body. And his mullet to top it off. “I’ll be heading out, Keep watch on her, she’s a bit sneaky but she gets it from me,” he winked. Yeosang kissed her forehead and ruffled your hair before he left the house. You sat down on the couch beside Yuna who had no interest in her work at all. “You have a lovely home Yuna, I forgot to tell you that,” you spoke as you tried to start conversation. “Thank you! My appa’s done a lot, I told him a small home would be fine, but Appa said I deserved the best in life, He even came home hurt...I think he said it was some money situation,” she frowned during her explanation. You sighed trying your best to take her mind off of it.

You grabbed the stack of papers and put them on the coffee table in front of you. “Let’s start working shall we,” you said. You both begin to work, Yuna had struggled a bit along the way but you were wiling to help her through a lot. Time had passed and you worked with her, even taking small snack breaks, playing around with her. You found yourself doing a lot to entertain the child that was with you. Still wondering where her father had to be off to.

Yeosang though, he was at the bar, not to drink his life away, but because he was invited to celebrate Hongjoong’s birthday with him. Seonghwa took a sip as the men all sat in a booth. “Can’t believe you’re so old now,” Jongho joked as Hongjoong sent a glare. “I’m just stressed out, the kids have my back in a lot of pain, thankfully Y/n was there to help,” Seonghwa said. Yeosang chuckled at the thought of you working with kids. Now this is something that Yeosang didn’t very much understand. You were like a drug, he could never stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried. You always managed to come up in his mind. “Let’s just celebrate the night away,” Mingi suggested. And that they did, the guys found themselves getting a little too drunk. They danced and sang a bit, Yeosang though, Yeosang stayed sober. He would’ve gotten drunk out of his mind but he wanted to be sober for Yuna’s sake, she deserved a healthy and well minded father. As hours upon hours passed, Yeosang sent his friends home, one by one before finally retreating home himself. “Damn, 1:20 AM?” he said as he checked the time. He made it home and opened the door gently. Only to find Yuna asleep on the couch, you cleaned the mess around the living area. “Welcome home, Yeosang, Yuna did most of her lessons, I thought it would be okay if she was practically knocked out,” you said. He nodded his head with a tired smile. “Thank you, Could you continue to help her? I’ll start paying you,” he said. You shook your head. “Keep the money, I do this because I love Yuna,”. Without another word, you grabbed your belongings and walked out of the door.

1 Week passed

You continued to help Yuna work on her papers, teaching her, every night you would go over and help her. Sometimes Yeosang there to help her too. You guys would have snack breaks, play together, and often go on outings to reward Yuna for her hard work. Yeosang sometimes coming home too tired, he looked drained. He had many appointments to handle at the tattoo shop. He was like a ghost.

2 Weeks passed

You grew closer to Yeosang and Yuna, hanging out with them. You would often take Yuna to play at the park, you liked to call it a teaching lesson but Yeosang was aware you tagged along because you wanted.

3 Weeks passed

Yuna was finally able to come back to school. But she never did. It left you confused. Yuna hadn’t been sick the last few weeks you’ve spent with her. You were mainly concerned about Yeosang. You heard from Seonghwa he was coming home drunk now, he wasn’t making much time for Yuna, enough time for Yuna to be exact. It got bad to where Yeosang hardly showed up to work.

4 Weeks passed

You still hadn’t seen Yuna, so much that you wanted to run over to her place, ask her if her father was okay. But you didn’t want to disturb in case they are taking time alone.

{Current Week}

You had enough, it was now a new week and no sign of the father or daughter you adored. You had rushed over to their place as soon as you got done with your teaching of the day. You knocked on the door, but no response, you knocked and knocked. Again and Again. The stress, worry, all of it was eating you up inside. What could be going on that Yeosang and Yuna ghosted you so much. 3 Hours passed, still no sign. You refused to leave though, you knocked again and finally the door open. Only to reveal a weak and pale Yeosang. “Oh my god! Yeosang,” you said. Without any thought, you hugged him tightly. The tears threatening to fall down your face. He frowned. “You shouldn’t be here, Yuna’s sick,” he coughed. You looked at him. “You’re both sick?” you asked. He nodded his head, as he was going to speak, he was interrupted, hearing a sudden. “APPA” throughout the house. Yeosang weakly and slowly made his way upstairs with you following in toll, he walked in the room and there on her bed was Yuna. “Appa, I threw up again,” she said. “Alright, just relax, I can give you a bath and you can-”. Without another word, Yeosang collapsed, sending him down. “Yeosang!”.

.........

Yeosang opened his eyes, his vision coming into focus, he had suddenly remember what happened, without another thought he raised up. Only to find Yuna asleep beside him. The bedroom door opened and you walked in, a wet cloth in your hand. “Someone’s awake, how are you feeling?” you asked placing it on his forehead. “A bit weak, sick, tired, I mean what else am I supposed to do? What can I say? I’m a weak kinda guy,” he joked earning a small laugh from your lips. “I wouldn’t say weak, just an over worker, And a good father,” you said. He suddenly stopped and looked at you, you stopped your movements as he gripped your wrist. “What did you say?” He said a bit shocked. “I said you were a good father?. I’m sorry that I judged you too quickly, I based you off of your tattoos and piercings, your clothes, your tone, your car, your motorcycle, I judged you so much that I realized recently, You truly are a great father, You deserve to be happy,” you said. Without another thought, Yeosang had pulled you into a tight kiss. Your body relaxing under his soft lips as you fell deeper into the kiss with him. He had pulled away, his heart racing but his mind was relaxing. It was you he was kissing, he had no complaints since it felt so....right.

“I should go,” you said checking the time from the dark blush on your face. “I did enjoy the kiss a lot though,” you said. He smirked. “So I proved to you I was a good father, what about a lover?” he said. You chuckled. “You never proved that, guess we’ll have to see another time, just take care of Yuna and take care of yourself, I’ll see you guys some other time,” you said walking out of the house. He sighed and leaned back into his soft bed. A proud smile crept on Yuna’s hidden face. So her plan worked after all.

Hello! I’m glad you guys read this, and comment if you want this to be a series or if you want anything else. I am here to fully listen to any suggestions or request you guys may have!

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Waist (Yuta x you)

in one sentence the whole story revolves around studying is a WAIST of time haha see my pun? slap the author right now anyways ...

here is a flirty but super caring Yuta boyfriend scenarios!

@yutahoes and all the yuta lovers out there, who agrees that Yuta has a very pretty waist?? or is it just me?

a/n : kissess and waists, and yes there are some mentions of body shape insecurity, don’t read if you’re uncomfortable read other work instead :D

here we go, all scenes are for fanfic purposes, nothing is harmed during the making of this story (except my brain cells)

“Come here and lie down, you've been studying for too long.” Your boyfriend's sweet honey voice lures you to join him on the comfortable bed.

You toss your head to look at him, glancing away from your textbook and sigh “Yuta, you know I have this midterm coming up next week, right?”

He nods “And I have been waiting here for four hours.”

You open and close your mouth “Four hours?”

He nods “And like 17-ish minutes.”

You sigh “Great I spent that much time and still have two more chapters to go.”

Yuta sighs “You've read enough sweetie.” He taps the empty space next to his “Come here,”

You shake your head “No. You're tempting me to stop learning. I need to pass the class.”

Yuta frowns “I am so comfortable here that I don’t want to get up and pick you up… come. Before. I have to get you by myself.”

You taunt “Come and get me then.”

That earns you a long whine from your manly man, he whines and still lays down on the bed “Nah, too lazy to move. I'll just keep on calling you.”

You manage to read one more chapter before almost giving up from Yuta's constant distraction and name calling.

“(Y/n)~~~” you remain unfazed

“Love?” you had to hide your smile

“(y/n)channnn" he sing song In his japanese accent, you have to hold yourself from blushing coz you love when he speaks Japanese. “Baka.” He mutters to himself.

You didn’t stir until he mentions “Yak yeobbo…. Stop ignoring me.”

You give up finally, marking down your page and stretch your body as you stand up from your chair. Yuta's smile enlightens when he sees you finally closing that book.

“Who are you calling yeobbo?” You smirk to Yuta who already looks so excited to crush your bone with his hug. Instead, you walk away from your chair and walk to get yourself a drink and use the restroom.

“Where are you going?” Yuta already push himself half seated. You giggle “Toilet. Just wait, I'm not going anywhere.”

“;Be quick! The bed is cold without you.”

“So demanding and annoying.” You yell in a sing song tone as you enter the toilet.

“Your demanding and annoying handsome prince.” He still has the audacity to reply you and you can only shake his head.

After you finish your night routine and turning off the lights, you finally descend to the bed where Yuta has been sleeping on.

He gently opens the blanket so you can go inside, and he shuffles to the side. You let out a satisfied moan when your body touch the warm side of the bed.

“Warm right?” Yuta smugly asks you as he winces to the cold part of the bed. You nod your head and turn to face him. Yuta’s body warmth is still on the bed when you go in, and now he is laying down next to you on the cold part.

Your bed is not big, in this small apartment you rent near your college, you sometimes wonder how Yuta likes sleeping over. Well yeah you cannot come into his dormitory and barge in to sleep on his bed, his roommate won’t be happy with it. So, Yuta has to be the one coming into your apartment.

“Thanks for being my bed warmer,” you giggle and press a kiss to Yuta's cheek.

He smiles and engulfs you into a hug. Your nose pressed tight into his sturdy chest. His cotton pajamas smell fresh laundry to you, and you breathe in the scent of musk and mint you missed from your man.

Yuta buries his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of sweet strawberries of your shampoo. You fit your body into his, no matter what the occasion is … cuddling with Yuta always makes you feel safe and loved. It’s as if he is a mold made for you to snuggle perfectly. His height and your height, your fit and his big shoulder everything just matches.

You smile when you feel his large hand automatically snake into your waist. Pulling you even closer than before and you find your hands already loosely holding his small waist.

“Yak I'm jealous of this small waist,” you pout, and that pout is only centimeters away from Yuta's lips.

He lovingly caresses your waistline, sneaking his fingers under your clothes. You gasp when his calloused cold fingers touch your skin, but soon your body warmth blends with his and Yuta traces random lines on your skin.

It's a habit Yuta suddenly developed after two years of walking with you. You did not realize when it actually started, you just know Yuta loves skin ship and he's been slipping fingers into your clothes which you don’t mind because he asked your concern beforehand. Slowly you got used to it, sometimes at lonely nights when he is away, you find your finger mindlessly sticking into your side waist as if pretending Yuta is doing that.

You stare into the galaxy planted in his eyes and cannot help yourself from feeling a burst of happy emotion. You lean in and press a kiss on his lips. Yuta doesn’t ask for more, not for now.

His focus is on your glowing face, the same pair of eyes that always look with adoration to Yuta. The tired eye bags that show how hard working she is in achieving her dream and Yuta has to acknowledge he loves that part of her.

Yuta sighs and with his other hand, takes a strand of hair away from your face. “Jealous of my waist? Why? Yours is perfect already. I love your curves.” He whispers as his fingers still graze and ghost over your skin.

You feel shiver run through your spine and shudder “Is it? You like it?” you ask a reassurance from him.

Yuta puts a hand over your neck and nods his head “Like? I love it so much! You fit wonderfully in my hug it's perfect! Don’t think of torturing yourself with the silly ideas here.” He playfully presses a finger on your forehead.

You giggle and tighten your hug on his waist “Still everyone will be jealous of this waist!”

He kisses you quick to shut you up and pulls back after a while “Hey we shouldn’t be jealous of what others have. If you want to play it that way… I'm jealous of your lips. Coz they're always so luscious and tempting! You don’t know how hard I have to hold myself back from kissing you when you lick and bite your lips while studying.”

You laugh “Did I? Did I do that while studying?”

Yuta smirks and brushes his thumb over your lips “I wonder how they still remain soft and plush even after you bite them! I was worried you'd hurt yourself. Look, when you're focused and stressed you always bite your lips!”

You unknowingly lick your lips again and bite them, a habit too when you're excited of something, and Yuta catches that

“Teasing me princess?” his hands already found their way back to your hips and when you nod your head shyly, Yuta doesn’t need a second command to kiss your lips.

“You're perfect as you are! Don’t be worried about unnecessary things, I love you and that won’t ever change.” Yuta says after breaking the kiss. Both of you staring into each other, finding trust and comfort while gasping for air.

“Stop biting that lips or they'll bleed honey,” Yuta presses his forehead to yours. You chuckle and nod

“I love you, Nakamoto Yuta,” you carelessly bite your lips again and Yuta's eyes flicker with fire %

“Guess we need to make a rule for that, for every bite you'll get my kiss.” He winks and proceeds to take your lips into his one more time.

The cold night no longer feels cold. Despite both of you having to wear thick socks and hide under thick blanket because the electric cost of a heater is too much, you can sleep comfortably tonight. Thanks to Yuta's body heater and his intense passionate kisses you share in this beautiful night.

end

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miastideclock · 3 years

Text

“REM” Bang Chan Drabble

anon asked:

Hi, there! I hope you’re having a good day/night. I’ve been having serious Chan feels lately, so can I please request something where Chan comforts his s/o who is having nightmares/night terrors and makes them feel safe? It can be a scenario or a Drabble, whichever you see fit. Thank you so much in advance!

Hi babe, i don’t know if this is exactly what you had in mind, but i got an idea and i ran with it lmaoo :)

Word count: 3k Warnings: Fem!Reader (i mention certain features of the reader, and i am so sorry if it doesn’t match yours!! I try to keep it as description-free as i can, but sometimes it just happens, you know?), Gets kinda graphic and a tad bit disgusting. (Blood, gore, etc.)

“I don’t get it. Frank Tupelo is actually Alexander Pearce? But-” You started staring at the screen that showed the end credits of the horribly confusing movie you just watched. Chan was sat next to you none the wiser.

“But he pretended- why would he, hold up.” Chan started, but cut himself off countless times. To be honest, the only reason you watched the movie in the first place was because Johnny Depp was one of the main character, and he has a tendency to make every movie great.

(Justice for Johnny Depp, I said what I said.)

“Whatever, I’m going to bed. You coming?” Your boyfriend asked as he got to his feet, ready to leave the living room and ascend the staircase connecting to your bedroom. You nodded, letting him know you would be up in a few minutes. However, that was a lie.

The past few nights you had been having these awful nightmares, making you shake yourself awake. Every single time you did, you were scared you had woken your boyfriend up. Up until now, you had been in the clear, but last night, he was just about to stir awake, but then just scratched his chest and the turned around, remaining fast asleep. That’s when you decided you would be sleeping in the living room until the dreams calmed down. Just because you couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean your boyfriend had to go through the same.

You cleaned off the table after removing the empty bowl of popcorn and the two glasses. After making sure Chan was unsuspecting, and had fallen asleep, you went upstairs and got ready for bed. Pajamas, brushing your teeth, washing your face, all that jazz. You then made your way back downstairs with a blanket from the closet and grabbed a book as well. That way you could place the book next to you and make Chan believe you fell asleep while doing some late night reading.

After getting comfortable on the soft couch, you hesitantly closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to consume you.

Running. You didn’t know where, but the gut-wrenching feeling washing over you told you to book it, to get as far away as you could. Looking behind you, you saw nothing but darkness, the same thing that was in front of you, as well as at your sides. A searing pain suddenly wrapped itself around your legs, making you snap your eyes down to see what on earth was going on. Barbed wire could be seen snaking its way up your legs, digging it’s thorns into your legs, drawing blood long ago. Skin started peeling back, revealing muscle tissue and bone. You wanted to scream out in pain, but as you went to open your mouth, you felt the same searing pain. Your hands flew to your mouth, only to feel twine had sown your lips shut. A whisper surrounded you. You couldn’t hear exactly what the voice spoke, but you could hear it clear as day at the same time. It drove you crazy. “This is what he feels.” The voice finally said so you could understand it. Your eyes furrowed together as you tried to understand what he meant, as well as trying to stop the barbed wire from making its way further up your legs. “This is what he feels.” The voice repeated. The frustration grew too big, making you tear open your mouth, the twine snapping. “What are you talking about?” You cried. The barbed wire was at your hips at this point, continuing to dig into your skin, blood pouring out of your wounds. “Chan. This is what he feels when he is with you. In pain- you’re holding him back, and it kills him.” You desperately looked around you to find the source of the voice, but to no avail. “No! He loves me!” You cried out, battling the wire that was now cutting up your arms. “He loves me.” You were quieter this time, more unsure. The smallest moment of uncertainty was enough for the barbed wire to get the upper hand, now strangling your neck, making it impossible for you to breathe as tears and blood streamed down your cheeks. You became more and more dizzy before you finally gave in.

In panic you sat up, looking around, your breath heavy. You had woken up, now back in your living room, no longer in your own personal hell. It took you a few moments to regain your breath, but you finally did. You were drenched in sweat, the large shirt you had stolen from Chan was now sticking to your back, rather than hanging loosely off it.

You got to your feet and went to the kitchen, needing a glass of water. The digital clock on the oven flashed red as it informed you it was almost seven in the morning. You let out a breath of relief as you realized you didn’t have to go back to sleep.

After chugging the icy water, you snuck back upstairs and into your bath, turning on the shower. While you waited for it to heat up, you walked over to the mirror, about to grab your hairbrush when your reflection caught your eye. Your throat was red and irritated, having a single scratch down below your ear. You reached up to touch it, and that was when you saw the red irritation marks matched your fingers exactly. You had probably tried to get the barbed wire off in your sleep, rather than just dreaming it.

Something kinda similar had happened a few weeks ago when you had shook Chan’s hand in your sleep, dreaming you were greeting the prime minister of New Zealand. It had been funny at the time, but now it kind of concerned you. You could only imagine what Chan would do if he saw you like this. Good think you had slept on the couch.

You proceeded to get ready for the day, opting for a fashionable turtleneck after getting out of the shower and drying off. Turtlenecks weren’t unusual for you to wear, so when Chan finally woke up and saw you at the kitchen table in the black sweater and slip-dress over it, he just complimented your style, rather than asking about it.

“What are your plans for the day?” You asked him after kissing him good-morning. He grabbed some of the grapes you had on your plate of fruit in front of you, and popped one into his mouth before replying. “I don’t know. I thought maybe we could have lunch with Felix and Hyunjin? Thoughts?” He looked at you before taking another grabe in his mouth. You gleefully nodded as you loved to hang out with the boys. They always had the craziest stories, and they loved telling you about their new projects and how their album was coming along.

However, what you hadn’t taken into account was your lack of proper sleep, and hanging out with the boys craved energy like nothing else.

So lunchtime finally rolled around, and you found yourself at a café, actively sipping your third coffee today. And at this point it was only eleven thirty.

“You had to be there- it was crazy! I’m still shocked that no one ended up at the ER.” Felix cackled as he told you yet another of his crazy stories, the two other boys chuckling alongside with him. You tried your absolute best to fake a good laugh, and you could see that Felix and Hyunjin didn’t suspect a thing. But unlucky for you, your boyfriend wasn’t as easy to fool. You sat there for a little while longer before Chan suddenly excused himself as his phone rang. Or at least he said it did, you couldn’t really see his screen.

“So, Y/n, Chan tells us you’ve been getting really into home projects and such lately?” Felix asked you as he took a bite of his croissant. You nodded along, telling the two boys about your latest project. “Fixing the door sounded fairly easy, so I thought I could do that to kinda ease myself into the world of carpentry and DIYs, but holy cow was I wrong. I have been working on the door upstairs, the one into the laundry-room, you know the one? Yeah, and well, my toolbox have been sitting next to a heavily broken door on the floor for like three days now. Every time I start, I get even more pissed and have to take a breather.” You chuckled, trying to plaster on a mask of enthusiasm and humor.

You loved the boys to death, but you just didn’t have the energy to spare today. They applauded you, resulting in you bowing slightly. Hyunjin asked a few questions about a doorknob he had issues with at his own place, to which you gave him some tips.

“Sorry about that.” Your boyfriend suddenly returned to the table. “But Y/n and I have to get going. Our neighbour just called and said she thought she heard a tap running, so we gotta go get that. But it was nice catching up!” Chan let them know, making you get to your feet and grab your purse, scared your place might’ve already flooded. You gave the two boys both a kiss on the cheek as you bid them goodbye, you and Chan soon making your way out of the café.

“Was it Linda who called, or Mrs. Oh?” You asked, trying to place which tap it might have been they heard. Chan soon grabbed your hand and slowed you down, letting you know there was no rush. “What are you doing, we gotta get home!” You grew confused.

“There was no phone-call you moron. I saw you were tired and needed a break. We can catch up with them some other time.” He spoke with a smirk on his face, making your jaw drop as well as the corner of your lips tug upwards. You thanked him and fell into his pace, you giving his hand a squeeze. While still having your fingers intertwined, you took your free hand and wrapped it around the same arm you were holding with your other, your head leaning against his shoulder as you walked at a slow pace.

The warm breeze kissed your exposed legs, gently brushing your hair out of your face. The sun was high in the sky as it was only noon, people and cars rushing past you, trying to make meetings on time, running errands.

“Did you even get to bed last night?” Chan asked you quietly, not needing to speak up anymore as you were resting your head on his shoulder. You told him you fell asleep on the couch reading. “Ahh, that makes sense. It’s a good couch, but not the best place to try to get some proper sleep.” He understood.

The rest of the day was pretty chill, and before you knew it, it was night time. Soft music was playing on the radio as you entered the bathroom where Chan was already standing, fresh out of the shower, only a pair of joggers on him. He was just finishing up putting on shaving cream on his face when you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hey baby girl.” He grinned as you hung around him. You hummed a reply before letting go of him, letting him raise the razor to his face.

You brushed your hair and washed your face, but made sure to take your time. You didn’t want to change out of your turtleneck until Chan was gone. When he finally did you hurriedly changed into the same t-shirt you had slept in the night prior, only that it had been washed since its last use. You looked in the mirror and saw that the irritation from this morning had calmed down immensely, only a few scratches being visible. You positioned your hair over your shoulders so the marks would be hidden, at least for the small time you would have to expose yourself to your boyfriend.

“Hey babe, I’ll be downstairs for a while. I’m not really tired yet, so I’ll just watch a movie or something.” You said as you kissed Chan’s cheek. He was already sitting in bed, his back against the headboard as he scrolled through his phone. “Oh why didn’t you just say so? I’ll come with you.” He smiled and was about to put away his phone, but you stopped him.

“Babe, you have a long day at work tomorrow, you need your sleep. I’ll come back up in no-time, okay?” You assured him. He let you know that he didn’t have work in the morning, but you still convinced him to just go to sleep.

The couch was as comfortable as ever when you finally made your way downstairs with the same blanket from the night before. As soon as your head hit the couch pillows, the memories of your last nightmare flooded your mind, making your breath hitch. You quickly jolted up into a sitting position, taking a few deep breath. You soon tried to lower yourself back down, this time counting the panels of the ceiling, trying to distract yourself as you drifted off to sleep.

3:39 am

A muffled scream was heard from downstairs, causing Chan to abruptly wake up. His first instinct was to look over to your side of the bed, his heart dropping when he didn’t see you there. He let his hands ruffle the sheet, looking for you. More rustling noises snapped his attention to the door. Slowly and quietly, Chan made it out of bed, grabbing the handle of the door. He twisted it and quickly opened it, stopping it from making any creaking noises. He then made it into the hallway, trying to listen for sounds downstairs, but it had quieted down. He looked around for a weapon he could attack the intruder with, his eyes landing on your toolbox from the other day. As he grabbed the hammer, he sprinted downstairs, hammer raised above his head, ready to fight off any murderer.

Chan felt his whole body relax when he saw you safe and sound on the couch, no sign of a thief. However, the sigh of relief wasn't something he got the luxury of enjoying as he soon saw you in distress. Tossing and turning and scratching at your neck in such severity that you had drawn the smallest amount of blood.

He placed the hammer on the floor and made his way over to you, grabbing your hands to stop you from hurting yourself anymore. “Y/n!” Chan called out, trying to get you to wake up. After the combination of crying out your name and shaking your shoulder, you finally jolted out of the nightmare you felt so trapped in. You jumped up in a sitting stance, fighting for your breath, tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey- babe. Shh, I’m here. I’m here, love.” Chan spoke instantly, letting you know you were safe. Once you saw you were no longer in danger you fell into his bare chest, sobbing.

He softly hummed as he protectively wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry out all that you needed. A few minutes passed before you finally calmed down.

“I’m so sorry I woke you up.” You finally whispered after silence came over you. Chan pulled away from you and gave you a look.

“Are you crazy? Are you actually apologizing right now?” He asked in shock. “I don’t care that you woke me up. All I care about is that you are safe. Okay?” He made sure to look you in the eye and really let you know he meant every single word.

“Okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden, I figured sleeping on the couch until the nightmares stopped would be the best of both worlds, but I guess not.” You sighed as you fell back into his chest.

“So you didn’t actually fall asleep reading the other day? Or watch a movie last night?” Chan asked, to which you only hummed, it being a bit too hard to audibly admit you lied to him.

“Well, since we’re both awake anyways.” Chan stated before letting you go and making his way to the kitchen throwing some popcorn into the microwave. You knew exactly where this was going, so you quickly went upstairs and took a shower as well as getting into another of the many shirts you had stolen from Chan, walking back down.

The smell of popcorn didn’t surprise you as you had heard him start to pop it before you went upstairs, what did surprise you was what he had down to the living-room while you were gone. Candles on the coffee table, next to wine glasses filled with capri-sun. He had gotten your pillows and quilts from the bedroom and made the couch comfortable. The netflix logo was prominent on the large telly, as Chan patted the seat next to him.

“Bub, you didn’t have to all this!” You gushed as you got under the covers next to him. You cuddled up into his side as he placed his arm around you, kissing the top of your head as you did so.

“I will never be able to sleep, knowing you won’t sleep well, so we might as well.” He smiled looking down at you, soon switching his attention to the plethora of movies the streaming service. You sighed happily and turned your attention to the same thing. You ended up picking a stupid-looking movie, making fun of the characters as the plot escalated.

Chan made a comment about the main character that would one hundred-percent have made you laugh, so when you didn’t he looked down at you, a smile slapping across his face when he saw the sight. You were sleeping, soft snoring being the only sound you made. Seeing you peaceful was enough for Chan to turn off the movie and adjust the two of you so you were sleeping on his chest, slowly raising and falling with every breath he took. That way he too could soundly sleep, knowing you were safe.

this shit took me two fucking days. this is usually done in like a few hours- bUT NOOOO I HAD TO GET INVESTED. whatever. I hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-Bentley

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twonderland · 4 years

Note

are the orders open? I would like to ask for a little imagines of the leaders of the houses reacting to discovering that daring is Crewel's niece

Ooooh shoot 😂 ♥️🖤🤍♥️🖤🤍

Dorm Leaders request

♥️ You have been partners for some time now, he likes your sense of style and thinks of you like someone elegant and with good taste, also really clever, something that captured his attention. You specially had ability for potion class , memorizing everything really fast and even sometimes exempting some tests for too many extra point you got in practices

♥️ You study together, some of the students in NRC think that you two are so powerful ! It’s even intimidating sometimes ...

♥️ Until one day in potion class Divus got to your place while you where mixing some herbs and weird stuff in the cauldron, it seemed to be that something was not right ...

“OMG (y/n) what did I taught you ? The fly wings go after the gnomes nails, not before !!! Bad puppie ! “

“UUGH UNCLE !! I know it, I just didn’t want it to have such a fluid consistency, I wanted to try - blah blah blah”

Meanwhile you two were discussing Riddle that was, as always, next to you was like “wait wHAT”

♥️ After that incident he was kinda nervous, -how should I approach her now ? How didn’t I noticed ???? OMG I ALWAS CASUAL AROUND HER MEANWHILE HER UNCLE WAS PRESENT- all this thoughts crossed his mind but didn’t say anything. You were no fool and noticed it, also proceed to clarify that yes you were his niece but there was no reason he should treat you differently, after that....he relaxed.... kind of 😂

♥️ Even if he knew that there shouldn’t be any difference in your relationship, he still gets kinda nervous around his teacher, not because you are in fact his niece, but because he wants to have a good impression with Divus

♥️ Fun fact : Divus already knew you two were dating but is pretty chill about it, actually really happy that his niece is dating someone so gentle and well mannered as Riddle ☺️

🦁 This one right here , he’s a person + lion = wich means he has some really acute senses such as smell and as weird as it sounds he kinda ... felt like your smell was kind of similar to Divus ...

🦁 This kept bugging his mind for some time now until he bluntly asked you “hey herbivore, if you have done something with that old bicolor man it’s better if you tell me now or else you are gonna face the consequences” ... to what you answered really confused that you didn’t have any idea of what was he talking about, and he also was being a jerk

🦁 “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT??” “well I don’t now herbivore, maybe because hIS SCENT IS ALL OVER YOU !” “Ugh, Leona! How could you say that , he’s my UNCLE “

... 😳

Leona feels rlly stupid rn

🦁 Ashamed and confused, Leona couldn’t even process what was happening “u-uncle?”.

OK LET ME EXPLAIN, have you ever heard of how animals recognize their babies because they have a certain smell that makes them “part or the pack” ? Well, that’s what happened here 😂

🦁 Right after this happened everything made sense, your smell that was similar to Divus’s, your good fashion sense, etc. he apologized while holding you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck so you wouldn’t be able to notice the blush on his cheeks

🦁 Lets just say that the atmosphere of the next classes with Divus were strange, Leona is a confident young man, but this situation took him unprepared so he tries to avoid eye contact with his teacher, just give the big cat some days and he will come to his usual self 😂

🐙 He has knew it all this time 😂

🐙 no, but seriously, since the moment he met you Azul started to investigate your past, likes, abilities, after all you were the only girl in NRC and a possible client, he had the eel brothers on your back ...

🐙 The reason he has never come to talk or ask about it is because he doesn’t see the point in it, not to be rude, but he doesn’t care who your parents or relatives are, Azul likes you no matter what and if you are his profesor niece, then that’s no big deal

Until

“RAAAA LALA LA LAAAA RARA LALA LaaaAAAAA~ “ ヽ(´▽｀)/

“ASHEGRONTTO-SAN is it really necessary for you to sing throughout the WHOLE class ??? BAD PUPPIE , STAY STAY !!!!”

🐙 poor baby just wants to be good bf material and impress your uncle 🥺❤️

🐙 -is it possible to sign a contract with myself so I can become the perfect bf? - he thinks, while you are watching his serious face and somehow you feel like you know what’s he’s thinking “.....Azul, stop” 😐

🐙 You talk with him, making sure he understands that he’s in fact the perfect boyfriend. He feels more confident now that he knows he’s doing just great but that doesn’t stop him to win your uncle’s approval 😂 COME ON HE’S AZUL ! Actually, Divues comes to like him even more after he starts to doing favors such as helping him to care some papers, making sure the ingredients for the potions are in order, etc.

He’s as always really sly 😅

👑 OK

👑 Now , this is a power couple 😂

👑 SERIOUSLY like, imagine Divus’s niece walking through the corridor in high heels next to Vil FUCKING Schoenheit going to potion class just to excempt like a boss

👑 He ... suspected something when he saw you two interacting, Vil is someone really observant and actually noticed that you have some similar mannerisms to Divus Crewel, such as rising your voice when something is well done, specially potions, your fashion aesthetic, cof cof hair color cof cof Your way of speaking and laughing, your ability in potions in general, etc.

👑 The moment he asked was smooth yet he felt kinda nervous since the very thought of it was possible but nevertheless kinda awkward “darling ... is professor Divus .. a relative of yours ? “ you stoped for a sec, remembering that you never really told him about your blood relation with Divus but also noticing your bf amazing intuition

👑 “Y-yeah, he’s my uncle actually” “....I see” he’s a little bit silent, thinking about why wouldn’t you have told him earlier ? Maybe you still don’t trust him that much... he had a thousand thoughts but before he could get depressed about it you said “He’s my relative, but I never thought it was something really important to mention, after all I’m another student and I can assure you that he has never had preference for me just for being his niece !”

👑 He... actually didn’t thought about that last part, he knows you are someone brilliant and doesn’t need the help of preference of your professor even if he’s your uncle, watching the worry on your eyes he showed you a gentle smile and pated your head “ I could never think of you that way, you are perfect without any help”

👑 I think Vil would be one of the most chill bf if he knew Divus was your uncle, he gets nervous when your professor is present but is good hiding it, outside of that Vil doesn’t change his attitude towards you or Divus

☀️ This sunshine never noticed it 😂😂😂

☀️ One day he was doing schoolwork with Jamil and his friend told him “ Kalim, have you taught about what will you give to professor Divus for his birthday ? “Mm? Well... not actually, but I can think about something ! Help me Jamil ☺️” “ok, remember that making Divus happy will also make (y/n) happy” he’s not understanding what is his friend saying rn “umm... but why would that make (y/n) happy ? The present will be for the professor” “well I believe that seeing his bf giving a present to his uncle would be a good detail”

☀️ her what now?

☀️”W-WAIT A SECOND JAMIL WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!” “I said that it would be nice if you gave a present to- “ “NOT ABOUT THE PRESENT ! Is Divus (y/n)‘s uncle ?!” ...”I thought you already knew 🤨”

Devastated

☀️ Jamil has this info since the day you started dating Kalim, of course he had to knew who was romancing his master, looked for info and walla ! Look 👏🏻at 👏🏻that 👏🏻 you are Divus’s niece 😂

☀️ As I said before, it was Divus’s birthday, the day started quite normal, you two attended class when suddenly Kalim went as fast as he could to your place “(y/n) ! I WILL MAKE YOU HAPPYJUST WATCH !” You are like ...

“... uh hu .. what is happeni-“ but before you finished your sentence sunshine boy went as fast as wind again to Divus “PROFESSOR ! Happy Birthday ! I wish you have an amazing day and that this presents please you !” Confusion was clear on the teacher’s face, one second before he could even start to ask the young man what was he talking about a strong rumbling and also the sound of what it could be a stampede could be heard from the classroom

☀️ “THREE ELEPHANTS, FOURTEEN CAMELS AND SOME PEACOCKS !! Oh ! And some dancers !! The perfect present to enlighten a soul isn’t t it ? Gyahahaha ~ ! “

Meanwhile Divus had his mouth agape from the impression while he sees all his presents arriving from a window, you are in the back trying to understand the whole scenario

“KALIM WHAT IS THIS, WHAT IS HAPPENING ???!??”

☀️ long story short, the “presents” dissapeared , Divus was ... happy that his little pup thought about his birthday but was also really shocked, and well, you and your bf had to talk about this .... event. Kalim got the idea but sometimes still wants to impress your uncle

💀 Chill when he’s alone, anxiety attack when you are present 😂

💀 That was at least the first reactions he had when he met you, it’s just that your are so fancy and gorgeous... actually Idia sometimes finds himself wondering how could he get a bae that’s so WOW

💀 Idia being Idia wich means staying in his room 24/7 gave him LOTS of time to make theories about everything and anything, one of those was you. The investigation begun because he just wanted to know more about his gurl ☺️❤️ but ended pretty chaotic 😂

💀 Imagine walking throughout the corridor and when you walk pass Idia’s door you hear a what it seems to be a high pitch scream followed by other strange “human” noises

💀 YUP he discovered it 😂

💀 The next day he found out you approached him naturally, it was morning and just wanted to give your bf a nice and cute greeting ☺️💖 but when you are just some steps from him, Idia flinched... you thought it was normal since he is easily scared when he’s outside his room, but when it’s you he’s most likely to be relaxed 🤔

💀 It took him all day to ask you about your connection with Divus, it impressed you that he was actually pretty certain that you were his niece he had a whole document with photos and all that proved his point 😂

💀 Overall he listened to you carefully, Idia is a good boyfriend, let’s you speak and say everything you need to explain, you were astonished when he gave you a proud smile when you finished your story, telling you how amazing your bloodline is and that he is really lucky to have such a beautiful and brilliant girlfriend 🖤

🐉 Mal is also pretty chill about it, being the most relaxed out of all the dorm leaders

🐉 He himself has his family in NRC too, Lilia for example *you are my dad ! ~ Boogi Woogie Woggie* srry 😂

🐉 So he understands the feeling of having around relatives in school, Malleus gets interested in you even more after you bring Divus into the conversation, he admires all his professors since he a good boy ☺️💖

🐉 Also, being Divus’s niece means you have some similar traits to him which is true at some extent, he asks you about your likes for potions and Malleus listens carefully, with a tender smile on his face. He is fascinated by your aura and all the stories you narrate about Divus and you

🐉 Everything went smoothly until the next day after you have talked about your relation with Divus, you were reading a recipe to make a potion in classroom, waiting for Malleus to arrive. He was pretty puntual to all his classes, so it was kind of weird he took his time that day. The minutes passed and you began to worry about what could have happened to your bf, was he alright ? Where was he?

🐉 “Professor Divus” it was his voice, looking up from the book you saw him handling your uncle a giant green gem with a straight face

“I hope our relationship develops placidly and for the good of our beloved (y/n) we could get along well”

The entire class was like 👁 👄 👁

- What on earth just happened ?!- you thought, Divus was struggling to carry the beautiful gem, while Mall some seconds ago was holding it like it was a piece of paper. You didn’t want to embarrass or trouble your bf with more questions since all the class was watching him confused and amazed, making the atmosphere weirder than it already was

🐉 You waited until class was over to ask him what on earth happened, he told you about how dragons give a little piece of their treasures in a form of “alliance” with the beings that they think are trust worthy, and Divus being your relative... well, he wanted to get closer to him

🥺💖

🐉 You thank him and give him a bear hug, he couldn't be any more sweeter 💕

Thanks for your request

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

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thebookreader12345 · 3 years

Text

750 Followers Celebration - Q&A

Thank you so much for supporting me through this journey! You guys don't know how much this means to me. Every single one of you is amazing.

Below the cut are my answers to the questions that you all submitted.

Q: Do you think Jay is going to become Sergeant this season? A: There has been a lot of debate over this question because of the past few seasons and all of the "Easter eggs", like the sergeant exam poster hanging in the background of the show. In my opinion, I do not believe Jay will become Sergeant. Yet. I think it won't be until the beginning of next season because, if this is a possible storyline, I would expect that the producers and writers would make the finale of season 9 about Voight stepping down/getting promoted, etc.

Q: Did Chicago Justice deserve more episodes? A: I'm sort of split with this question. I loved the fact that there was a big episode involving Kevin, and they always included people from Med, Fire, and PD in some of the episodes. However, the whole plot of the episodes was kind of slow because it wasn't like they were police officers and could go out and chase suspects and arrest people and what not. Their job was just to gather the evidence and then present it in court. I think for many, the show fell flat because there wasn't much action, and part of me does agree with that, but the whole idea of the show itself was kind of cool.

Q: What would make you stop watching each Chicago show? A: This is a tough question because I've only ever dropped one show that I can think of, and it was only because the plotline got really dumb. Maybe if some major characters died in each show I'd stop watching it? But then again, I love the One Chicago universe so much that I don't think even that would stop me from watching. So yeah. I really don't know.

Q: Do you believe in magic? A: As much as I would love for magic to be real, I don't believe it is. But I feel like everyone thinks that way. Cause lets be honest, Harry Potter and Disney make magic look so cool. However, we all know deep down somewhere that it's almost impossible for certain things to be real, and magic just so happens to be one of them.

Q: Are you superstitious? A: I'm not the most superstitious person out there, but I do somewhat follow a few superstitions. Whenever I find a penny on the ground with heads facing up, I pick it up because I believe I'll get good luck. Doing the whole "fingers crossed" thing is something I do a lot. I believe you shouldn't open an umbrella in the house or else you'll receive bad luck. Broken mirrors are bad omens. Those are the top 4 I believe in, but other than that, I'm not really too superstitious.

Q: Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? A: I mean, I would hope so. I appreciate my level of smarts, and whenever my friends acknowledge them or compliment me on them it makes my day. However, with that, people think that I'm always only doing things to boost my intelligence. For example, I love to read. So whenever I say that I didn't do much over the weekend, people always assume that I read a bunch, when I really didn't. Or that I always study for tests or do homework like a week before it's do. That is not the case. But for the most part, I believe my perception of myself is the same as how other people perceive me.

Q: Who is your favorite couple on each One Chicago show? A: Okay, so for Med, there aren't really any couples at the moment besides Maggie and Ben, whom I love but they aren't my favorite, so I'm gonna pick a past couple. When I first started Med, Manstead was my prime ship, so I'll choose them. Will had been pining after Natalie for so long so I was glad when they finally got together. For Fire, it's gotta be Kelly and Stella. They were literally made for each other, and they support each other with everything. Also, they are so cute together and all of Firehouse 51 ships them as well! And for PD, while I do love Burzek, Upstead is my favorite ship at the moment. I've seen the connection between Hailey and Jay since season 5. You don't understand how angry I was in season 7 when Hailey was so close to confessing her feelings. So season 8 made me very happy when Jay and Hailey finally got together.

Q: Jay and Lindsey or Jay and Hailey? A: I respect everyone's opinions on this matter, so hopefully you all respect mine. I thought that Erin was almost toxic in a way for Jay. She continuously broke his heart when all he wanted to do was help him. But what really does it for me is that she left Chicago without telling him goodbye. Hailey, on the other hand, has pushed Jay to seek out help when he needed it, like when she recommended he take seeing a therapist seriously to help with his PTSD, and she is always there for him, no matter what. That's why I believe Hailey and Jay are the better pairing.

Q: Which character death got to you the most? A: There have been too many sad deaths in the One Chicago world. But if I had to pick one, I've gotta go with Otis on Chicago Fire. Otis was always one of my favorite characters, even way back when I watched Fire with my dad when it was first coming out. He was witty and funny, and his friendship with Cruz was everything. So, when I watched the episode where he died, I was full on balling. I had to pause the episode for 10 minutes because I couldn't stop.

Q: Who is your favorite character on each show and why? A: I'm gonna do favorite male and female character because I've got too many favorites from each show. On Med, my favorites are Will and Natalie. Will has been my favorite since day one, and I like that he will go out of his way to help patients, even if it means he could get in serious trouble. Natalie, even though she's not in the show, always pushes for the best of care for her patients, and whenever she dealt with kids it was always the sweetest thing. On Fire, I like Kelly and Sylvie. Kelly is so headstrong and driven, and he will do anything to protect the other members of Squad 3. Sylvie is such a hard worker and you can tell she is passionate about her job. I feel so bad that she's had to go through so many partners. On PD I love Jay and Hailey. Jay has not always been my favorite male character. Back when I watched the show for the first time, I adored Adam. However, I love that Jay has such good morals and is always pushing to do the right thing even when Voight disagreed. Now, it took a few episodes for me to warm up to Hailey, but after seeing her be so badass, it was hard not to like her.

Q: Where do you get inspiration for your stories?/How do you get inspiration when there's not a request? A: This question is always hard to answer because I really don't know. Most of the time I'm fulfilling requests sent in by you guys and I just write what comes to the top of my mind. If there are requests that are not requested and I come up with them on my own, chances are I saw the plot somewhere else, like in a book or show or movie, and I just tweaked it a bit to fit the One Chicago universe. Either that happens, or while I'm trying to fall asleep, I make up random scenarios in my head, and if I find one that I really like, I'll make a note of it on my phone so I don't forget it, and then I'll write about it.

Q: Do you think Brett and Casey are endgame? Why or why not? A: I'm gonna go with yes on this one. Now, Brettsey is not one of my top ships in the universe. However, they are cute together, and I've been expecting them to get together for a while. The two of them, even when Gabby was around, had a great relationship and always cared for each other. Plus, Matt jumped out of a firetruck to go help Sylvie when the ambulance flipped. He was willing to risk an injury just to make sure she was okay. And now that they are officially together in Chicago Fire, you can see that they really love and care for each other.

Q: What inspired you to start writing? A: I always seem to get this question whenever I do a q&a, but that's okay because I don't mind talking about it. I first got into stuff like this as a reader. Basically, I went on to Wattpad and Tumblr to read other people's stories. I had no intention of creating my own. And then, one day, I started imagining myself in some of the fandoms I was apart of, and I thought, "If I'm imagining myself in these fandoms, chances are others are too," and I began creating stories that followed the plots of movies and shows exactly, just adding Y/n in it. However, that got tiring after a while because I wasn't able to have much freedom because I was following a set script, and that's when I remembered I had a Tumblr account I never used. So, I revamped my account just a little bit and started posting story ideas I had that I couldn't post on Wattpad because either they didn't fit with the stories or they were for someone I didn't write for on Wattpad. And now, here we are. For anyone interested, I've posted this before but I'll post it again, my Wattpad handle is @Writer_Reader05.

Q: Jay or Will Halstead? A: I'm sorry, but I really can't choose between the two of them. I love them both so much. Will and Jay are two of my favorite characters in the whole One Chicago universe. While they do have some qualities that I'm not the fondest of, at the end of the day, I adore the both of them, and I could never choose between them.

Q: Who would you rather date: Jay or Will Halstead? A: Why do you guys do this to me? I love them both so much! But, if I have to choose, I'm gonna pick Jay. The only reason is because I like the characters in PD more than Med, so if I'm dating Jay, chances are I'm friends with Hailey and Adam and all of Intelligence. Will is just as awesome as Jay though and I feel like sometimes people sleep on that.

Q: Which of the requested fics you’ve written is your favorite? A: I think I'm gonna have to go with a Jay Halstead x reader I wrote titled Two Becomes Three. Something about the plot just makes me smile. And to think of Jay being a father......So yeah, while I have so many amazing requested fics thanks to you all, that one has to be one of my favorites.

Q: What’s your favorite series you’ve written so far? A: I love all of the series I have written. Something about creating a whole story that's more than just one part is always fun. If I have to pick one series, I'm gonna pick On the Loose. It was the first series I wrote on Tumblr and the plot of it is something I'm really proud of. However, From the Big Apple to the Windy City, Identity Loss, and Difference of Opinion are all amazing! The first two are finished series and the last one still has a few chapters left to go. Go check them out if you haven't already.

Q: What's your favorite imagine you've come up with and why? A: I don't have a lot of fics that are solely my ideas. Most of my stories have plots that were sent in by you all. However, if I had to pick a favorite out of my stories, it'd be Back Home for Christmas, a Halstead Sister fic I released when I was somewhat new to the platform. Something about writing sibling fics always makes me happy because I get to express the familial side to the characters.

Q: If you had to be roommates with 5 of your mutuals/fellow writers, who would you pick and why? A: I love all of my fellow writers/mutuals so much! I know how much work we put into whatever we post, and most of us are very active on this site. As for who I would pick to be my roommates, I'd choose @hereforhalstead @fighterkimburgess @halsteadlover @resanoona @sylviebrettsey because I feel like we'd all have great conversations, mainly over One Chicago. And every Wednesday night we'd all watch the episodes live together and experience them as a group and then freak out over what happened..........Now watch me fantasize about this all day.

Q: Do you listen to music when you write? A: It depends. On some days when I plan that I'm gonna write, then yes, I do put on some music. When there are days that I have a few minutes to spare, I don't put on music just because I'm only writing for a few minutes and I don't want to waste time. But mostly when I'm writing I do play music in the background.

Q: Do you know how your fics/stories end before you finish writing it? A: This is a really interesting question. The answer is no, I do not know how I'm gonna end a fic before I finish writing it. The only story I had a set ending for was my series On the Loose, but that one wasn't even fully planned out until I got a chapter or two in. Obviously, if I get a request that includes a set ending, like two characters get together or something like that, then I know what the ending will be. Otherwise, I have no clue.

Q: Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? A: You know, I can't say that I have. Everyone is different in their own way, and that's what makes us all unique. I would imagine if I did meet someone with a similar personality we'd get along because we'd basically be a carbon copy of each other, but who knows. Maybe our similar personalities would cause us to clash.

Q: Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? A: Not really. I know myself more than anyone else so I know what my limits are and when I've reached them. With people, on the other hand, I always feel like they can be doing more with themselves and their lives. So I do not hold myself to higher standards than others.

Thank you to all of you who sent in questions! I never thought I'd reach 750 followers on this platform. The only reason I have is all thanks to you wonderful people out there!

@winterberryfox @maximeevansblog @scarletsoldierrr @i-like-sparkly-things @dreamingmanip @soph0864 @ryliegh8 @lorenakaspersen @wanniiieeee @nevertoofarfromivar @securityfriendly-jay @pinkbay-love @stephie123

#one chicago #q&a time #q&a session #question and answer #750 followers

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