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vmpiires · 2 months

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﹆₊ 画家‧₊˚ THE BLOOD PAINTER, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ art; the painter and the unwanted advice. wc, 2.82K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. back againn. i really missed this story so i wanna keep it going, then i'll go back to another one. aside from that, hope ya enjoyyyy and reblog to support meee and lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part.

␥ tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3 PART FOUR

the following day, choso finds himself in an unfamiliar situation as he sits alone at a table in the cafeteria, impatiently waiting for kashimo to arrive. his eyes scan the bustling room, searching for any sign of the laid-back student.

“where is he?” choso grumbled under his breath. “i knew i shouldn’t have listened to that idiot. i should’ve just stayed in my room and ordered a meal…”

just as he was about to give up and leave, choso spots kashimo weaving his way through the crowd, a tray of food in hand. the other grins as he approached the table.

“hey, man. sorry i’m late. i got caught up chatting with a friend on my way here and the lines were pretty long. so, what’s for lunch today?”

“nothing special. just cafeteria food.” choso replied curtly, still feeling a bit prickly from his wait. kashimo nodded, unfazed by choso’s attitude, takes a seat across from him and begins digging into his food.

“you know, i was thinking about if you and i should work on a project together. i’ve seen your art in class before and it’s mad good. i know you probably aren’t the kind of guy to jump into things like this but it’ll be fun. we could blend our styles together.”

choso sighed, pushing his food around on his plate. “i don’t know about that. i’ve never really worked with anyone. plus, i’m now totally sure how our styles would mesh.”

kashimo took a bite out of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before responding. “that’s exactly why it could be so great. our different styles are different, sure, but that’s what makes it interesting. and who knows, maybe working together will push us both to grow as great artists.”

‘persistent bastard.’ choso thought. though, kashimo’s proposal sounded pretty good. while choso was sitting here feeling like he was being worshipped and slightly embarrassed by it, kashimo was just happy to be around and having his idea considered. a glimmer of curiosity started to form beneath his skepticism.

“fine. whatever. whenever there’s another project we can do something together, okay?” choso waved his hand dismissively. excited that choso was starting to come around to the idea, kashimo presses on, hoping to fully convince him.

"that's cool, but i was thinking we could start our own project, separate from school. just you and me, doing what we love and making something cool and unique. think it over, choso. no deadlines, no rules, just pure artistic freedom."

choso hesitates for a moment, the prospect both thrilling and daunting. he takes a deep breath, considering the proposal.

"i don't know, kashimo. it's a big commitment, and i'm not sure if i'm ready for that kind of exposure right now. can't we just keep it lowkey, at least for now?" choso says scratching the bandage on his nose.

"okay, sure, i can respect that." kashimo was clearly eager to jump right into the project, his head bobbing up and down with excitement. "we'll take it at your pace, but don't forget, sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone can lead to amazing things."

choso could only nod, not having much to say about the words being exchanged recently. glancing up at kashimo again, he noticed he had this dumb grin on his face that made choso frown a little.

"why're you making that face?"

in kashimo's mind, he was sensing that choso needed some guidance regarding his love life and interacting with you whenever it came down to it. no matter how many times choso rejected his help.

"let's go back to the business we discussed last night," kashimo begins, taking a sip of his lemon lime soda. "the way you look at that girl you were with, you clearly like her more than in a friend way. you just seem so hesitant to make a move. what's holding you back?"

choso's frown deepend slightly, his gaze dropping to his barely-touched food, which started to get cold the longer it sat there on the tray.

"it's complicated. i'm not used to letting people in, and i don't want to mess up anything. plus, there's the whole blood manipulation cursed spirit thing. not exactly an easy thing to explain to someone you're interested in."

kashimo sucked his teeth, "look, i get where you're coming from. there's this kid named hakari. hated the guy with a passion. we were always at each other's throats. one day we were forced to work together on a mission, and we realized we had more in common than we thought."

"you're gay?" choso raised an eyebrow. kashimo's cheeks turned a deep red. a perfect contrast to his vibrant colored hair. the male quickly shook his head.

"that's- not what i mean...and no, i'm not. the guy's my best friend. shut up and listen." kashimo's cheeks fade back to their original complexion before continuing on with his story. "but you know what else? i may look like a young guy but guess how old i am."

choso just shrugged, not having a direct idea. he also didn't feel like guessing just to be constantly told that he had the wrong answer and he had to keep guessing. kashimo leans over the table, lifting his hand to cover his mouth.

"i'm really four hundred years old." the male whispered. "i was just incarnated into a newer, younger body so i could live longer." kashimo sits back down in his seat. "but you know what? the people who truly care about me accept me for who i am, crazy back story and all."

choso can't help but crack a smile at kashimo's lighthearted approach to his own little situation. encouraged by choso's simple reaction, kashimo continues with his advice, aiming to help choso see the potential in opening up to you in the future.

"what i'm trying to say is, don't let your fears hold you back from pursuing something special with your little situationship. if they're the right person for you, they'll accept all of you, blood manipulation, cursed spirit, and everything else. it's worth the risk, don't you think?"

choso remains silent for a moment, kashimo's word resonationg with him. finally, he nods, a hint of determination in his expression. "you're right. i can't keep running from my emotions forever. i guess i'll talk to her, and i'll be honest with them about everything."

“yeah, that’s the spirit.” kashimo beamed. “just remember, no matter what happens, i got your back…even if you don’t know me all that well.”

“actually, me and-” he says your name, “-are going out to dinner on friday. that’d be a good time to have that conversation, right?”

kashimo raised an eyebrow. “oh, a romantic dinner date, huh? you’re doing perfectly fine already. just be yourself, blood manipulating cursed spirit and all—but save the cursed spirit thing for later. like after dessert.”

‘i wouldn’t really say romantic…’

the two laugh, the mood lightened by kashimo’s playful but simple joke. choso’s opinion on the guy shifted pretty quickly. he thought he was just another weirdo trying to get in his space but he could see him and kashimo being pretty good friends.

later that day after classes end for the day, the two boys found themselves lingering in the art room. the space is quiet and peaceful, filled with the intoxicating smell of oil paints and the clay-like smell of colorful conté crayons.

“ready to get that creative mind of yours flowing? we got so much inspiration in this room, we’re bound to come up with some killer ideas.” kashimo smiled at choso before standing up from his seat, the chair dragging against the floor loudly and beginning to walk around.

choso glanced around, his skepticism evident in his expression. but he nods nonetheless, curious to see what kashimo had in mind. the dark haired male rises from his seat, pushing his chair in against the table and began walking around the room just as kashimo did.

as they wander around the room, they take in the various pieces of past and present student artwork adorning the walls. some are abstract, others realistic, but all were unique and inspiring in their own way.

“see? look at all this talent surrounding us.” kashimo began lightly touching the pieces in front of him, jumping back when something moved in the incorrect direction and laughing nervously. “it’s like a buffet of creativity in here. hey, i got an idea. what if we each pick a piece that speaks to us, then try to make our own version of it?”

choso considered the proposal, a flicker of interest in his eyes. he and kashimo continue their exploration of the art room, now looking at pieces that stand out to them, until suddenly kashimo stops in front of a painting that sends chills down his spine. it’s one of choso’s paintings, a nightmarish composition of twisted limbs, blood, and more elements of body horror that would even make the bravest soul shudder.

“woah, choso…this is incredible. it’s like something out of a horror movie, but it’s beautiful…in a twisted way. how did you make something so visceral and intense?”

choso, caught off guard by kashimo’s awe and admiration, shifts uncomfortably, unaccustomed to such praise. the male swallowed and began picking at his nails as if there were dirt in them.

“i…i just paint what i feel. it’s not like i’m trying to make a statement or anything. it’s just how my mind works.”

“nah, man. this is more than just a painting. it’s a glimpse into your soul. you’re incredibly talented, you know that, right?”

choso, flustered by kashimo’s compliment, decided to attempt to change the subject by pointing out another piece of art nearby.

“it’s not a big deal. hey, look at this right here. the color palette is really interesting, isn't it?" choso points to the art piece. there were blues, greens, reds, and pinks blending together into a huge masterpiece. choso's eyebrows lifted slightly and his eyes widened, clearly revealing the violet irises he had tucked beneath his eyelids.

kashimo smiles, understanding choso's discomfort with the spotlight suddenly hanging above his head. he allows the shift in focus, turning to examine the new painting. there was pungent smell of quick-drying liquin coming from the canvas. most likely the paint.

"yeah, that's a pretty cool painting. the way they blended the blues and greens together makes me feel like i'm looking into a mystical forest or whatever." the male turns to choso with that same big smile on his face. "when we get around to that project, we'll be a killer team, i guarantee it. like i said, our styles are definitely different but that's what'll make it awesome."

choso couldn't help but grin, the warmth of kashimo's enthusiasm was infectious. a grand contrast to his stoicism and distantness. shifting his weight a bit, choso put his hands in his pockets.

"yeah, maybe you're right."

as their exploration continues, choso and kashimo find themselves staring at a particularly captivating sculpture in the corner. it's an intricate piece made from metal and wire, depicting a twisted figure in a state of could be described as emotional turmoil.

"damn, that's pretty deep. intense, huh? it's like they managed to pinpoint the feeling of being torn apart from the inside out. wonder if whoever made this was going through something." kashimo rubbed his chin with his thumb.

choso nods, a solemn expression on his face. "yeah, it's like they put their entire soul into this one little sculpture. it's almost too real, like it's alive and breathing right in front of us."

kashimo steps closer, studying the sculpture from diffrent angles. "it sounds like you can relate to that, huh? feeling like your insides are all twisted up, but having to keep it all together on the outside."

choso glanced at kashimo, surprised by his perceptiveness. the male didn't seem much like the poetic, deep-thinker type on the outside because his personality is so enthusiastic and bubbly. choso can only retract his previous statements about him, just like before.

"how did you know that? i mean- this thing is a physical representation of how i feel most of the time. dead and tired. i don't mean to sound like a depressed person but...yeah. life hasn't been to good to me in my earlier years."

"because i've been there, man. everybody has. and you don't sound depressed at all, you're just saying how you feel and that's a good thing. it's not easy carrying around all that pain and confusion on the inside. but the fact that you can take those emotions and turn them into something as powerful as this sculpture? that's amazing. you're literally showing an example of this with your art. what you painted over there is exactly how you feel and you're expressing it."

choso felt pretty touched by the male's words, giving him a small smile. "thanks, kashimo. it's not often that someone understands what i feel. most people just see the surface, but you...you and-" choso says your name again. "-can see the real me. and it doesn't scare you away."

"that's because i'm not most people. i see you, and i think you're pretty badass. don't forget it for a second." kashimo threw an arm over choso's shoulder. choso felt a surge of gratitude and camaraderie, realizing that kashimo had quickly become a true friend to him.

kashimo and choso sit down at a nearby table, their minds brimming with inspiration from their exploration of the art room. they begin to brainstorm ideas for their collaborative project, their enthusiam growing with each suggestion.

"we could create a series of paintings, each one a representation of our inner emotions and struggles." kashimo scribbled on a piece of paper. they were little doodles of him and choso. choso being the tired and slightly annoyed looking character to the right of himself, who was the happier looking character.

"or we could do a large-scale mural, incorporating both of our styles like you mentioned earlier, like into a cohesive piece. or maybe even a sculptural piece, using random objects and materials to make something abstract and thought-provoking." choso added.

kashimo grins, "i like that idea. it would really bring out the best in our skills and we could really play off each other's energy and creativity." the male writes something down on the paper, seemingly writing down choso's idea. "we made some pretty good progress today but i gotta get going. i told hakari that i'd hang out with him tonight."

choso's head quickly shoots up from the paper and he nods slowly, maintaining his usual stoic demeanor. "yeah, no problem, i get it. i like that you keep your promises."

as kashimo turns to leave, he notices the subtle change in choso's posture and tone. he smiles warmly, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

"hey, don't worry. we'll hang out again soon. and don't forget, we've got our super cool art project to work on. it'll be the best thing this school has ever seen." the male put up his thumb.

choso offers a small smile, the disappointment fading slightly. "yeah, you're right. i'm really looking forward to seeing what we can come up with. don't kiss hakari while you're out together."

kashimo's cheeks flushed at choso's reply and rubbed the back of his neck a bit before speaking again, "i won't do that. swear...you don't kiss your future girlfriend on friday."

choso chuckled and shook his head before kashimo flashed him a friendly smile and giving him a light pat on the back before getting up from his seat beside choso and heading out the door. the sun was setting and choso thought it was about time he should get going also. standing up, he slung his bag over his shoulder and took a quick glance at his nightmarishly beautiful painting, which had the sun's rays beaming onto the canvas through the window and smiling a bit, instantly being reminded of you and kashimo's kind words.

as the door of the art room shuts behind him, the male suddenly bumps into you. not even realizing it was you at first, he swears under his breath before taking a step back, his cheeks turning a slight pink color upon seeing your face. his breath quickened and his heart rate picked up.

"hi..." you smiled at him nervously, adjusting your clothes after accidentally bumping into him. your next words would be an apology but that idea seemed to quickly fade when you noticed his flushed cheeks.

"hey..." choso finally says. the air between the two of you crackles with tension as your eyes meet, a silent exchange of longing and desire passing between the two of you. finally catching his breath, choso clears his throat. "uh...sorry. i didn't see you when i walked out."

"no, it's fine, i wasn't really paying attention either." you reply almost instantly, as if you had planned this response beforehand. once again, you both found your gazes lingering on each other longer than necessary, neither wanting to break the connection. finally, you reluctantly pull away, but the distance between you remained close, a silent conversation taking place between the two of you.

"so...i..i guess i'll see you at dinner on friday?" choso blurts, trying to make the situation less awkward for both you and him. you could see how he was visibly flustered and slightly uncomfortable.

you nod, adjusting your outfit and then the backpack on your shoulder. you had been coming back from a study session with a few of your friends for the upcoming test in your english class regarding shakespeare, which had the entire class groaning with irritation and annoyance.

"yeah, i'm looking forward to it." the words finally escape you. a small, almost shy smile tugs at the corners of choso's lips.

"me too..."

with one last lingering look, you and choso part ways, going in opposite directions of the hallway to go to your next destinations, both feeling a sense of anticipation for their upcoming dinner date.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝟒. ♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

"Hi! I hope u have a lovely day :] I was wondering if I could request an imagine where you're online friends with Gogy and one day you send him a picture wearing his merch and he can't stop thinking about it and finally ends up telling you he has a crush on you?? Thank you in advance :] I really enjoy your writing"

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

warnings: Zoom Video Communications none :)

links: | ao3 | request | masterlist |

⋆ song recommendation: Slowly by Josh Gilligan

(streamer bf gogy brainrot brrr) hello sweet anon! thank you for much for this request :) I love love love all the geo simps and their ideas. also thank you to my dearest LB for helping me with the plot help. happy reading, everyone! ♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You tapped your fingers on your desk, nails clattering at you waiting to be let into your third Zoom meeting of the day. Usually, you got off with only one lecture, but because of upcoming exams, you were finding yourself in and out of virtual meetings and office hours. Sure, it was better than jogging from building to building, fighting the crowds, and searching for a seat in a packed lecture hall, but it was still wearing you down beyond belief.

You rested your chin in your hand as your window went from white to dark grey, the square with your name getting wedged in beside the professor. Everyone’s cameras were off, a thankful sigh leaving your lips as your head slumped down to lay against your arm, the danger of falling asleep suddenly becoming more prominent.

You jumped slightly as your professor cleared their throat, sharing their screen and beginning to ramble off facts listed on the slideshow. You played with your keyboard, focused on removing a crumb from beneath your spacebar that was almost unreachable. You usually took notes in the class, but today was just one of those days.

“... And with that in mind, I’m going to put you all into breakout rooms…” Your professor trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as they peered at their screen and clicked frantically to assign all of you to rooms. You yawned, smacking your cheeks and sitting up. You were determined not to be a shitty partner, at least. The white box popped up, inviting you to join breakout room four. That’s always lucky, you thought to yourself as you joined.

Once again, you were cursed to look at the buffering wheel of death as your internet struggled to sustain all your opened tabs. Please, just a little longer, you groaned internally, eyes dashing towards the receiver and exhaling in relief as your computer connected to the breakout room. You turned on your camera, eliciting your partner, George, to do the same.

You flashed him a smile as you struggled to open the article from the previous night. “Hi! How’s it going?” You greeted, not yet looking at him.

“I’m good, actually. How are you?” He engaged, his voice deep and tired.

You finally managed to split your screen enough so that you could see him and the article. “Yeah, I’m good too. Thanks,” you chewed the inside of your cheek, eyes skimming some of the notes you’d etched into the margins. “So, did you have any idea what,” you paused, squinting at the author’s name, “Robert A. Schneider means when he discusses how ‘men of letters’ fear the lower class more than anything?” You asked, as your eyes trailed across your screen to finally gauge his reaction, you were taken aback by his appearance.

His soft features and dark eyes made you feel safe. As he smiled softly, running his fingers into his hair, he seemed to be racking his brain for an answer. He opened his mouth to begin, detailing what you had previously thought with better articulation.

The two of you got through the basic questions the professor had scripted for the students, then finding yourself still stuck in the breakout room. On a normal day, your professor would have pulled everyone back into the call after the first few questions.

George swiveled in his chair quietly as he listened to you briefly explain your area of study. His kind smile made your heart flutter slightly. Deep down, you hoped the two of you would be stuck in the room for a while.

Soon your topics blended into what kind of movies you both watched, a debate on where you could buy the cheapest bread on campus, and what kind of party people the two of you were. After an hour, instead of worrying whether or not your professor was dead, you were swapping numbers and planning out how the two of you would turn the Florida Keys into the headquarters of your new cult where the members would all worship a separate bitchy philosopher.

You pulled one of your legs to your chest, resting your cheek against your knee as his laughing died out. “Okay, this might be a weird question, but I need to know why your webcam is so clear. Is it like an OnlyFans thing or…”

He chuckled. “Yeah it’s definitely OnlyFans,” he joked, making you laugh. “I’m actually a ᵐⁱⁿᵉᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ” he mumbled.

Your eyebrows perked playfully. “You’re a what?”

He pursed his lips to fit the grin stretching across his face. “ᵃ ᵐⁱⁿᵉᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ”

You snorted slightly. “Sorry darling, you’ll have to speak up. What was that?”

He wet his lips, rolling his eyes as he bashfully groaned. “I’m a Minecraft streamer.”

You giggled, him basking in your disbelief. He smiled a bit brighter as he shrugged, leaning back in his chair as you rambled off questions. “There’s no way! Nerd!” you chaffed, making him smile as if he liked it when you playfully teased him. “Are you super popular?” You asked, catching your breath.

He bit his bottom lip swaying his head slightly as if deciding not to answer. “Mmmm. Not really.”

“Well, come on, Georgios! Give me your Twitch user and I’ll be your biggest fan, I promise.” He laughed at your response, digging out his phone to send you a link.

“I’d like to see you try,” he mumbled.

After the class had finally ended, you’d learned that your professor was on the phone with their credit card company. In the following weeks, you and George were in constant contact, even becoming part of each other’s daily routines.

As you studied for finals, you’d turn on his stream, letting his voice alleviate some of the stress of your exams. He knew you were watching and would even drop hints for you in what he was saying, or he’d blatantly just ask what you were talking about in your essay for a certain class. After the stream would end, he’d call you either on Discord or the phone, just so it felt like the two of you were studying together.

Jokingly, you badgered him to send you some of his merch, threatening to buy it from a bootleg online store if he didn’t. He had only brushed it off at the time, but shortly after, you received a hoodie in the mail with his gamer tag printed across it.

It was late at night when you’d received it, the tiredness of your eyes and George’s dulcet tones lulling you towards the idea of a dead sleep. Yet, you were drawn from your pleasant relaxation with the shrilling of your doorbell. You shrugged out of your blanket cocoon, grabbing your phone and trudging down the stairs. As you tore open the bag, your phone buzzed with a text from George asking if you’d seen something that one of his chat members. You chuckled softly and dug your hand into the material, holding it out in front of you.

You snickered to yourself, running your fingers across the red patch in the center. You slipped it over your head, letting the softness of the fabric brush against your skin. You snapped a photo of yourself and stumbled back upstairs before sending it to him.

When you returned, George was focused on something he was crafting. His eyes darted down to one corner of the screen where his phone was probably sitting. His eyes flashed back up with a smug grin on his face as if he knew exactly what you were going to say. Your “Thanks sugar daddy xx,” probably didn’t help either.

“What, chat?” His voice came out slightly uneven as he bit back a smile. You skimmed what people were asking. “It’s not a nude. A friend of mine got something I sent them,” he answered nonchalantly, finishing up what he was doing. The chat began to spam quietly. “No, it’s not a maid costume. Jesus Christ.” He leaned back in his chair, grabbing his phone and opening your message.

A grin spread across his face, alongside the light dusting of rosy pigment settling in his cheeks. He chuckled to himself, quickly replying before getting back to his game. You scoffed at his response.

George (H325) Anything for my silly little baka

You curled up again, putting away your schoolwork and devoting your attention to watching his stream as you drifted off to sleep.

Once again, you found yourself at the mercy of your internet as you attempted to join the breakout room assigned to you. You almost jumped out of your chair when it finally connected and you found George waiting for you. You smiled slightly as he scrolled through his phone. “What are the chances?” You asked, pulling his eyes to you.

He grinned, clicking off whatever he was looking at. “I was just about to raid your inbox.”

You chuckled. “I almost wore your merch to class, just to out you to whoever my partner was,” you joked, making him roll his eyes.

“I’m glad it’s me then,” he responded. You began scrounging around for your article. After a beat of hesitation, George spoke up again. “Hey, I’m glad you like the sweatshirt…” You perked an eyebrow in his direction. “I actually haven’t been able to get that picture out of my head. I know it’s stupid,” he stated lightly, chuckling nervously. You could feel your heart beating in your ears. “It’s so lame, but I think I have a crush on you.”

You sat back in your chair, stunned. “I mean, the feeling’s mutual. Even if it’s lame,” you mirrored, winking at him. “I mean, maybe it’s not lame because I know I like you.”

He smiled to himself at your answer before chuckling, “Should we Zoom date or something?”

#georgenotfound headcanons #georgenotfound x y/n #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt imagine #college au #gnf x reader #gnf brainrot #gnf my beloved #gnf x y/n

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postalenha · 3 years

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11. special

not really knowing what to wear, you decided to put on a beige sundress that goes below your knee, wishing that jay wouldn't bring you in a wall climbing type of place.

checking your reflection in the mirror, you fix a strand of hair that's sticking out and iron the dress with your hand, "perfect."

you smiled before hearing one to two honks of car. you decided to leave your apartment. outside, you see jay in his car, waving at you. you went straight to him saying, “good afternoon.”

he unbuckled his seatbelt and went out of his car, opening the car door to greet you, “good afternoon, lovely.” you smile before going inside.

his car smells like fresh flowers, which helps you calm down and not worry throughout the ride. once you've had enough courage to speak, you ask him “may i ask where we’re headed to?”

"i'm taking you to my favorite restaurant." he answered, "don't worry, i won't disappoint you."

you softly chuckle, "i'm looking forward to it."

the drive was smooth and quiet. you think if this was even a good idea because you remember telling yourself to never meet him again, let alone involve him in your life.

but you decided to give him a chance. it's not like you would lose anything. you would just hang out, that's all.

he stopped his car in front of a fancy building. he got out of his car and opened the door for you. he then offered his arm where you can cling your hand into. giving his car keys to the valet guy and you went straight inside.

immediately after a staff member had a glance of jay, she knew right away where to lead us. the two of you are now sitting at a table for two before the waitress hands you your menu.

you look over at jay, trying to get a recommendation from him while he's preoccupied, searching at his menu.

the waitress laughs a little before she pokes jay and points at you, jay widens his eyes. "oh no worries, i'll order for us." he smiled, "but you can order what you want too."

shaking your head no you tell him, "it's okay. you can order for us." he took that as a green light, so he ordered everything in the menu that he wanted you to have a taste of.

you weren't really listening to what he's saying, all you feel right now is admiration. you admired how well he can handle himself. he seems to know what he's doing, and looks like he's an expert with these types of situations.

waiting for the food to arrive, "i hope i lived upto your expectations." jay scratches the back of his nape, "i didn't tell you where we're going to keep the thrill."

you laughed at what he just said, "you made me anxious the whole ride just for you to experience some thrill?" you questioned him, he just smiled at you.

"the cold sweats were worth it. this place is magnificent." you commented, looking around and analyzing the place.

"it's elegant, very. yet cozy." you added, the structural design of the place was finely furnished. there are aerial plants hanging but the sight doesn't really make you suffocate, instead, they help make the surrounding more earthy.

"i know, that's why it's my favorite." he happily said, "and i'm glad you're liking it so far."

not long after, your food arrived. you couldn't tell if jay was very hungry or he just genuinely wanted you to try the food. seeing the number of plates on your table right now, it's enough to feed a whole six person family.

overwhelmed, you don't know where to start so you just stared at the food as they stare right back at you. jay sees your reaction and actually thinks it was cute.

while you're busy getting lost in your own thoughts, he started cutting the steak for you. it just went unnoticed until he switched your plate to his.

"why did you steal mine?" you asked him with full confusion painted on your face, he smirks. pointing at the plate in front of you, "they are the same thing. the only difference is; i already cut that for you."

after cutting his steak, he handed you a small cup with some kind of sauce inside. "try that with the flat bread like this." he showed you how to do it, and you just followed him, "then eat."

you both eat in usion before you hum in surprise, jay smiles for the nth time seeing you nod your head in approval. "that was actually good!" you said.

"it is. it makes a good appetizer." he told you, you both moved on and continued eating the main course. “i’m glad you agreed to see me.” he said.

you look at him, “i’m also glad you brought me to such a good place.” you said a while before taking a bite into your steak. tasting the savor of the meat as you chew it.

silence was the sound of the afternoon as you both ate in peace. he sometimes offers to help you with things like pouring your glass of wine, wiping the sauce from your lips but other than that, you both really didn’t interact that much.

jay had been thinking of what he should say, but he couldn't seem to find the right words or construct a good sentence to initiate a conversation. he only smiles at you whenever your eyes meet his.

but when dessert came, you grew tired of the silence that had been hurting your ears. so you decided to ask him, “how are your butterflies?” it’s funny to ask how his butterflies are.

because if he would ask you the same question, you would answer that yours are in your stomach as you speak. “they’re doing good.” he said, “i’m actually planning if i should free them or not.”

“why?” you ask him, jay looked at you. seeing your face, he knew that you actually cared because it is painted right all over your face. “i just think that i’m holding them back from the freedom that they deserve.”

“but what if their freedom is you?” you blurt out. “i mean- what if they feel like they have all the freedom in the world as long as you’re there by their side?” you panic while you blabber out the words without processing them in your head first.

“sorry, i wasn’t making sense.” you’re talking about butterflies for god’s sake. why would his butterflies even feel that way about him- well they can, but not certain.

jay thinks that it was fascinating that you said that. “no, you are making sense.” he reassured. he never once thought of how his butterflies would feel if he let go of them, he was busy thinking about what they feel in his perspective and never theirs.

instantly after you’re finished eating, you go out and wait for the valet driver to get the car. “we can sit there while we wait.” he pointed at the bench, you shake your head. “it’s fine, we can wait here.” you said, “unless you want to sit.”

he shook his head too and was also about to say something, “jongseong!” a woman shouts as she approaches you. you’re confused, there is no jongseong here. unless your name wasn’t y/n after all.

the woman stops in front of jay, “i didn’t expect to see you here!” she greets him with a hug. he’s jongseong?

you just stood there, quiet. even distanced yourself to give them some space. of course, just the right distance to hear what they’re talking about. “i most certainly didn't expect to see you either.” he said, the woman laughed and slaps his shoulder.

“we’re going to a pub, do you want to come?” she invited him. that is when jay- or jongseong- or whoever the hell he says he is; looks your way so you avoid his eyes, but on your peripheral vision you can see him walk to you.

feeling an arm on you shoulder, you look at his hand while you hear him say, “sorry. i’m with someone.” he said. you expected the girl to go with what he said but she just smiles. “come on! there would be a lot of people.”

she inserts herself in the middle of you two and clings her arm into yours, “she can find more friends there too!” you look away because you don’t know how to respond to her invitation, you barely even know her.

but that was hypocritical for you to say, because it wasn’t that much of a problem when you and jay spent the night at the pub. you were about to agree when something drawn on her arm caught your attention.

it’s the butterfly jay had drew on your arm when you two met at the bar, the same one. the only difference is that yours is already faded while hers is new and visible. you slowly remove her hand that was clinging on your arm.

“sorry, i’m really tired. i’ll be heading home, but jay can come if he wants to.” you told them. the girl lost her verbal ability and just looked at jay, “i’m going wherever she goes.. so, i’ll see you around.” he said.

the valet driver came right on time, jay was about to open the door for you but you opened it for yourself and just went inside his car not saying anything. jay doesn't really know what the big deal is, he certainly doesn’t get why you’re suddenly mad when you were so smiley earlier.

the car ride was silent too, it was awkward but you think that it’s better this way. but jay didn’t. he wanted the talkative y/n he met at the pub, you’re the same girl but why are you acting so cold all of a sudden?

once his car was parked in front of your apartment, you got out of his car and said “thank you.” and rushed inside. not letting him say any word. you throw yourself onto your bed, screaming.

you thought you were special. turns out jay’s just good at making individuals feel like they are, when in reality you are just like everyone else. a person who seeks the love they think they deserve and need.

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 6,765 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, coerced marriage, gore, violence, sexuality, typical TWD stuff (recommended NC17+) A/N: This part is LONG! This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Safe in Hilltop, Daryl worries about Y/N and rushes her to the doctor.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl looked desperately at Maggie. You were completely limp in his arms, your head lolled toward his chest. “Where’s the doctor here?” he asked.

“This way.” Maggie, Sasha, and Enid hurriedly led the way to the medical trailer. Daryl glanced down at your face as he walked. You seemed to be breathing okay, but you were extremely pale.

Dr. Carson spun around as Daryl busted inside. He immediately dropped the papers in his hand and rushed over as Daryl rested you down as gently as he could on one of the beds. “What happened?”

Daryl shrugged. “Dunno. She just went pale and then she was out.”

Dr. Carson grabbed your wrist and felt for your pulse, keeping his eyes on the second hand of his watch. “Her pulse is a little elevated.” He looked at Daryl as well as the concerned faces of Maggie, Sasha, and Enid gathered around on the other side of your bed. He grabbed a blood pressure cuff and returned to your side.

Daryl’s expression was overwhelmed with concern. He brushed your hair off your face and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip.

“Do we have any guesses?” Dr. Carson asked, watching the dial on the cuff. He noticed that Daryl looked like he needed some treatment, too…

Daryl paused thoughtfully for a moment. “We just came from The Sanctuary,” he said darkly. “Escaped. If I had to guess, I’d say she ain’t been eatin’ or sleepin’.” He ran a hand back through his dirty hair. “And, uhh… she’s—probably some… some trauma. I dunno about injuries.” He realized that it was entirely possible you had lied to him about not being hurt. He shifted his weight anxiously, avoiding everyone’s eyes, and grabbed one of your hands gently in his. It felt small, fragile. You’d always seemed to be made of such strong stuff, Kevlar. This wasn’t right.

Dr. Carson nodded stoically. “Alright. Could be in shock. Why don’t the rest of you wait outside briefly? Enid, help me get her changed into a gown and checked over. We’ll hang an IV and get her hydrated, get some nutrients in her. Hopefully all she needs is rest.”

Daryl was hesitant to release your hand and stared at Enid and Dr. Carson as they rushed into action. Maggie noticed his unwillingness to leave and touched him gently on the arm. “Daryl. Come on. Let’s just wait outside a minute.” He shifted his weight back and forth, still staring down at your closed eyes and pale face. “Dr. Carson will take care of her. She’s gonna be just fine, but they need room to work. C’mon.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and reluctantly rested it back down on your stomach, allowing Sasha and Maggie to lead him outside. When the trailer door closed behind him with a snap he flinched, and he immediately sunk down on the steps, hanging his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees.

Sasha put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed. “She’s gonna be fine, Daryl. Dr. Carson is really good. She probably just needs some fluids and rest.”

He showed no sign of having heard her. All he could think about was how this was his fault.

About fifteen agonizing minutes later, the creak of the trailer door behind him sent Daryl rocketing to his feet. He looked up to see Enid in the doorway. She stepped out as Sasha and Maggie, also waiting nearby, rose to their feet too.

“Her blood pressure and heart rate have stabilized but she’s still out. Dr. Carson says she’ll probably just wake up when her body is ready to.”

Daryl was pacing in front of the steps now, rubbing a hand over his mouth and the stubble on his face. “Is she, uhh—Did ya check her over? Is she—she hurt somehow?” he asked desperately.

Enid shook her head. “Nothing that we could see or detect. Everything looks fine. She’s probably just in shock and dehydrated.”

Maggie stepped forward as Daryl froze in place again, staring down at his boots. His face was dark. “Daryl—what happened? How’d you get out?”

His hands clenched into fists and he shut his eyes. He felt like he could be sick. “She, uhh—” There was a quiver in his voice. “She came there to get me out. She—before Alexandria—she was a prisoner there and, uhh—” He was having a hard time getting the words out through his emotion, his face screwing up and his jaw clenching. He looked up and met Sasha’s eyes. “She was one of his ‘wives’,” Daryl growled. “She did it to save her brother. But when I got taken, she went back.” He began pacing again, pressing a hand over his face. “She went back to him, to Negan. She went back in so she could get me out.”

That was all he could get out. He collapsed again on the steps and immediately began anxiously chewing his thumbnail again.

The gravity of what Daryl had just said was settling over Maggie, Sasha, and Enid. Maggie collapsed back against the planter behind her. “Oh my God,” she uttered. “I had no idea.”

Daryl shook his head and shrugged. “She didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t want anyone to know.”

Rage flashed in Sasha’s eyes. “That sick son of a bitch. Did he do something to her?” she asked Daryl.

Daryl shook his head, refusing to look at anyone, turmoil churning in his chest, guilt crushing him so much he felt like he couldn’t take in air. “Depends on what ya mean by ‘somethin’,” he growled.

“Oh my God,” Maggie said again, pressing a hand over her mouth.

Enid lightly touched Daryl’s shoulder. “Dr. Carson wants to look you over. At least the gunshot wound.”

“’M fine,” he barked back.

“Probably. But just let us check,” she said gently.

Daryl hesitated for a moment, but finally conceded and stood. “Fine. But I’m sittin’ right beside her ‘til she wakes up.” Enid nodded and Daryl followed her back into the trailer.

Outside, Maggie and Sasha exchanged another distraught look.

“I didn’t know. About her brother. About Negan—any of it,” Sasha said. “Did you?”

Maggie shook her head. “No. But she was always really private. Never talked about her past. I can see why. How do you even begin to explain somethin’ like that to someone?”

“Until she talked about The Saviors that day, here, I never—but even then she didn’t say—"

Maggie shook her head. “Goin’ back. To him. To that? Knowing what he’d done to our people. What he was capable of. I can’t imagine…”

Sasha nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah… I mean, I knew she was a badass. I’ve fought walkers beside her but—” She shook her head again, her lips parting in disbelief.

“She did it for Daryl,” Maggie said quietly, smoothing a hand over her belly. _ _ _ _ _ _

Sometime later, Maggie went back over to the medical trailer to see how you were doing. When she got inside, Dr. Carson was taking inventory of the drugs in the cabinet and he nodded toward the far corner in response to her questioning look.

When she rounded the curtain divider, she saw Daryl sitting at your bedside, leaning forward in a chair, anxiously chewing his thumbnail. His gaze was fixated on your face, but his blue eyes seemed unfocused.

Maggie stepped forward and lightly rested a hand on your arm. “How is she?”

Daryl shook his head almost imperceptibly and shrugged.

“Has she woken up at all?” Maggie asked him.

He shook his head again and straightened up in his chair. “Nah. Not yet.”

Maggie took in the worn and exhausted look on Daryl’s face, the bruises, the layers of dirt on his skin. “You should go get cleaned up. I’ll sit with her. Enid can show you where you can stay.”

He shook his head, leaning forward onto the edge of your bed with his elbows. “Nah. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“She’ll be okay,” Maggie said, but knowing better than to try to persuade Daryl to leave. Nothing short of sheer force would have moved him. “Are you alright?”

He shrugged vaguely. “Doc says I’m okay.”

“Good. That’s good. But not exactly what I meant.” She waited, but he didn’t respond. “I’ll bring you some food.” She rested her hand gently on Daryl’s shoulder and felt him stiffen beneath her touch, but he hardly acknowledged it. Once Maggie had disappeared around the curtain, he reached out and grasped your hand in his again. It felt a little cold, and he rubbed it gently between his palms. And he waited.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Dr. Carson came to check on your vitals again around midnight and found Daryl slumped over on the edge of your bed, his head resting on his arms. He jumped awake the sound of the doctor’s footsteps.

“Sorry,” Dr. Carson said softly.

Daryl rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced at your face. He rested his hand on yours again. “How is she?” he asked, his voice a gruff rasp.

The doctor finished listening to your pulse and your lungs, and reached for the blood pressure cuff. “All her vitals are good,” he said. “She went through a traumatic experience?” he asked, a glance at Daryl’s expression.

His brow drew down low over his eyes and his face darkened. He nodded.

“Then her mind and body probably just need time to be turned off for a while. And if she wasn’t sleeping or eating, she needs to recover the things her body’s missing.” He checked the level of the IV drip bag. “That’s what this is for.”

“Ya didn’t find—anything physical? She wasn’t beat up or—?”

Dr. Carson shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. Nothing like what you went through.” He paused, but Daryl showed no sign that he was going to respond. “You went through trauma too. Physical and otherwise. You should also get some rest,” he said kindly. “I promise she’s in good hands here.”

Daryl nodded. “I know. I just—she’d be here for me. So. I’m gonna be here for her.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl awoke to the sound of tweeting birds outside the next morning and slowly lifted his head off his arms, which were resting on the edge of your bed. He rubbed at his tired eyes and glanced over at you. He shot upright, his chair clattering back and squeaking on the floor. Your eyes were open. He grabbed your hand and you gave it a squeeze.

“Y/N,” he said, leaning over you. “Doc!”

You looked tired and a little groggy but you were awake, looking up at him. Your lips curved in a small smile at his reaction on realizing you were awake.

“Why the hell didn’t ya wake me up?” he asked you, studying your expression.

“Because you need sleep,” you said softly.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re the one in the damn hospital bed and you’re tryin’ to take care of me still? Stop,” he drawled. Dr. Carson arrived at your side and grinned down at you. “Good to see you awake,” he said, putting his stethoscope in his ears and listening to your heart and lungs. “How are you feeling?”

Daryl was standing anxiously at your side, rocking on his feet.

“Tired,” you said softly. “And a bit confused.” You looked back over at Daryl. “What happened? I remember getting here and then—nothing.”

He nodded, his nose nudging up slightly. “Ya just passed out all of a sudden.”

You frowned. “Oh. How long was I out?”

“Overnight,” Dr. Carson replied, letting the pressure out of the blood pressure cuff. “BP is normal.” He took in the color in your cheeks. “You look better. But I’d like you to stay here today and overnight again, just in case. We’ll keep giving you some more fluids and you need to eat and rest,” he emphasized. He put a hand kindly on your shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. Take it easy.”

You looked back over at Daryl. His expression was disturbed and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You tried to swallow it but it didn’t budge.

“Are ya alright?” Daryl asked you. “Really?

You turned your eyes back up toward the ceiling and flashes of Negan surged forward in your mind. You could almost feel his hands on you, feel his lips on you. You shut your eyes tight and shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said softly. “But I will be.” You glanced back over at him. “Have you been here this whole time?”

He nudged his nose up twice in a nod. “Ya. And I ain’t leavin’. So dun even try.” He pulled his chair back over to your bedside again and sat down.

You studied his face, the bruises still glaring out at you. “You should go get cleaned up. And I hope you’ve been eating and—”

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere until you’re gettin’ out of here.” He held up a dirty plate though. “I’ve been eatin’. Sasha and Maggie keep shovin’ food on me.”

You nodded and sighed, feeling suddenly tired again. “Good. But you should shower, get some clean clothes that fit better…”

“Hey—” he said forcefully, grabbing your hand. You looked down at it in surprise. “I ain’t leavin’ ya in here alone.”

Your eyes flitted between his. “I’m okay. You can take care of you.”

He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Nah. ‘M good.”

Not too long after that, you drifted off to sleep again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl kept true to his word and slept slumped over at your bedside again despite your continued protests, waking every once and a while and studying your face, the relaxed pout of your lips. By the time you awoke the next morning and Dr. Carson came by, you were more than ready to get out of the medical trailer.

“You’re sure she’s alright,” Daryl asked, walking with Dr. Carson toward the door. You were changing into some clean clothes Maggie had brought by behind the curtain in the corner.

Dr. Carson nodded. “She is. She just needs to take it easy a while. Lots of rest and water. And you too,” he said, giving Daryl a sharp look. “You know where to find me if there’s anything you need.”

Daryl looked hesitant but he nodded. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. He pushed outside and found Enid waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey. Maggie sent me to show you where you and Y/N can stay.”

Daryl nodded, shrugging his hands into his pockets. “She’s just changin’,” he said. Enid nodded and they both patiently waited. The trailer door creaked open and you came down the steps looking like you were almost back to your old self.

“Good to see you up,” Enid said kindly, smiling at you. Enid showed you to a trailer that was sparsely furnished, but there was a bathroom and a couch and a large bed in one corner, along with a dining area and a little kitchenette. “We had other plans for this trailer but I think it will be better suited for you two for now, while you’re here. Unless you wanted to stay up in Barrington house,” she said.

“This is perfect.” You turned back to Enid. “Thank you.”

She nodded and smiled. “Maggie, Sasha, and I are just in the trailer right next door. It’s actually Jesus’ but he’s out on a run. But in case you need anything, that’s usually where you can find us.” She headed for the door but turned back with her hand on the doorknob. “I’m really glad you’re both here. And that you’re okay.”

You gave her a warm smile before she went out. The door snapped closed behind her and you suddenly felt completely lost, like you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.

You realized Daryl was standing close in front of you and you looked up, your eyes following up his broad chest, and landed on his face. He must have been able to read something in your expression.

He felt a constriction in his throat as you met his eyes and he finally realized how scared he actually had been when you had passed out. “Ya scared me,” he rasped.

You looked down toward your boots. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“I do,” he said. “Ya were so worried about me ya weren’t taking care of you.” His hands closed gently around your shoulders and as you looked up at him, into his blue eyes, you finally went to pieces, suddenly overwhelmed with everything that had happened. Tears poured down your cheeks and your shoulders shook as you tried to gasp in breaths, wanting to pull yourself together but feeling helpless to in that moment.

Daryl’s chest ached. He quickly pulled you against him and held you tight, feeling each hitch of your shuddered breaths. He just held you while you cried, squeezing his eyes shut against a few tears of his own born of rage and sadness and regret. And eventually your breathing evened out and smoothed beneath his hands, and you pulled gently back and wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks, looking up at him. He simply nodded.

You crossed the room and sank down on the couch, staring vaguely at the opposite wall, pressing a hand up to your forehead, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees for a long moment.

Daryl just stood a short distance away, chewing on his bottom lip… wishing he could read your mind.

At length you sat up again after rubbing both your hands down over your face. “I’m okay,” you whispered, seeing that he was still intent on you, his eyes narrowed. “Really.” You tilted your head in the direction of the bathroom. “You should go get cleaned up. I’ll be right here,” you said.

“Ya sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Daryl grabbed some clean clothes and went into the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind him. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment. It’d been so long since he’d seen himself. He sighed heavily and stripped off his clothes. He turned on the shower and stepped into the hot stream of water, gasping at the sensation of it pouring over his skin, leaning his head back and letting it run over his face, soaking his sore and bruised body. He hastily washed his hair and scrubbed all the built-up dirt and grime from his skin, wincing a little as his hands moved roughly over bruises on his ribs and back from his last beating.

At length, Daryl came out of the bathroom. His wet hair was sending drops of water down to pepper his shirt. He looked so much better, just having gotten the dirt and grime rinsed off his skin and out of his hair and you couldn’t help smiling at him.

“Better?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed.

You were waiting on the couch with a first aid kit and beckoned him over with a nod. He licked his bottom lip and huffed a little but wandered over and sat down next to you. You grabbed some alcohol pads and took his hand, the one with the split knuckles and swelling, pulling it over onto your lap. You cleaned it up and put some ointment on his knuckles. The whole time you felt nervous with his hand in yours and Daryl was feeling an obnoxious flutter in his chest as your fingers floated over his skin. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“You should have had Dr. Carson look at this—make sure it isn’t broken,” you said, pausing with the bandage in your hand.

“Nah. S’fine,” Daryl said.

You gave him a knowing look. “It could be a boxer’s break,” you said, starting to wrap the bandage gently over his knuckles and around his palm. “Happens when you punch a hard surface. Like a wall,” you said quietly. Your words suggested you knew exactly how he had injured his hand, that night after he had been forced to see you on Negan’s lap.

Daryl gulped and avoided your eyes. “Ain’t broken.”

You nodded. “Okay. There. Done.” You looked up at his face and realized he truly looked exhausted. “You need real rest,” you said. “Not locked in a cell rest or slumped over at my bedside rest.”

“’M fine,” he said, getting up and going over to the table to grab some food from the basket Maggie had left for you both.

Your brow furrowed and you gave him a look.

“What?”

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head. “You’ve been sleeping, or not sleeping, on a hard floor as long as they had you. And you haven’t slept properly since we got here.”

He stared at you with narrowed eyes, getting ready to argue.

“Daryl. I’m fine. And we’re safe. You can rest.” It was like your permission was the last thing he needed. You watched his shoulders visibly slump. He conceded. “Alright…” He walked over to the bed and laid down carefully. You could tell he was in pain when he moved and your brow furrowed.

He adjusted the pillow under his head. “Well, what are ya gonna do?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe go fill in Maggie. Tell her what happened.”

A shadow darkened his face. “I told her a little. After you were, ya know, with the doc. But not much.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You started toward the door and he sat back up halfway.

“Hey. Just—ya ain’t goin’ outside the walls, right?”

` ` You shook your head. “No.”

“Promise me,” he growled.

His concern was clear. You nodded. “I promise. Get some rest.”

Daryl watched the door close behind you and sighed, sinking back onto the bed and draping an arm over his eyes. Part of him wanted to ask you to stay… but what would he say? That he needed you nearby? Needed to know you were safe? That he wanted you right beside him… He wasn’t feeling brave enough for that yet no matter how badly he wanted it.

You walked to the next trailer over and the door was propped open, letting in the sunshine and a breeze. Maggie was sitting at the table eating a snack and looking over some papers. Enid was sitting nearby.

“Hey,” Maggie said, giving you a smile. “You look better. It’s good to see you out and about. Where’s Daryl?”

You nodded and shoved your hands into your pockets. “I convinced him to try and get some actual sleep.”

“Good. He needs it,” she said, her eyes turning a little sad. “Ya know, he completely refused to leave your side while you were out.” She gave you a pointed look and you felt your cheeks flush but you pretended you hadn’t heard her. “What’s up?”

“Umm, I just thought—maybe I’d fill you in on what happened. And I wondered if you knew anything about everyone back in Alexandria.”

She nodded. “To my knowledge everyone else back home is alright. Rick’s been scavenging for the Saviors. They’ve been making pick-ups so far for Negan. But supplies are getting scarce.”

You nodded.

“Come on and sit down,” Maggie said.

“Do you want me to go? I could—”

“It’s alright, Enid,” you said kindly. “No reason for you to leave. I don’t have anything left to hide at this point…” You heaved a deep breath and let it out. “I haven’t even told Rick any of this yet because before I could Daryl was gone. And I just went after him, to get him back. I didn’t want to wait another second.”

Maggie nodded and her brow furrowed as she listened intently. “He told us. Just a little bit. About what you did. You don’t have to tell us anything more if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay. I—I think I’d rather just get it out, you know?” You related your story to her and Enid. You were grateful they didn’t interrupt you because you were afraid if you stopped you wouldn’t be able to start up again. You explained what you had done to get Daryl out, going back to Negan and being one of his ‘wives’ again. Maggie reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze as her eyes filled with tears.

“My God. Y/N,” she said when you had finished. “He could have killed you on sight.”

You nodded. “He could have. But I had a feeling he wouldn’t. And he didn’t.” She squeezed your hand again.

Enid was looking at you with round eyes.

You felt your cheeks turning pink and shook your head. “I just did what needed to be done. To get him out.”

Maggie grabbed you suddenly into a tight hug, squeezing a little of the air from your lungs. “Thank you. For bringing him back to us. And you came back to us, too.” She pulled back and gave you a teary smile, which you returned. “I can’t imagine what you went through. But I’m just so grateful you’re both here.”

“Me too.” You got up and Enid stood to grab you in a tight hug too. You smiled at her a little awkwardly. “I think I’m just gonna take a walk around a bit. Get some air,” you said with a small smile.

“Alright. Take it easy, though,” she cautioned. “Doc’s orders.” You nodded and headed back outside.

You ended up in the stables, petting the horses and brushing them down just to pass the time. You were grateful for the distraction. Your mind wandered to Daryl frequently and you sincerely hoped that he was getting some peaceful rest. He needed it. He deserved it.

You noticed Sasha up on the wall, standing watch near the gate and you headed over toward her.

“Hey,” you said, nearing the top of the ladder. You were a little winded. You still felt weak. Daryl’s guesses to Dr. Carson had been correct. You had hardly eaten or slept while you were at The Sanctuary, and it had taken more of a toll on you than you realized.

Sasha turned and helped you climb to your feet. “What the hell are you doin’ up here? You’re supposed to be taking it easy!” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “I’m trying.” You looked out over the wall, leaning on the top of the logs. A few walkers were staggering in the field in the distance and Sasha raised her eye to the scope of her rifle to watch them. You glanced over at her. “How are you doing? After everything? And Maggie? Really?”

Sasha gulped and lowered the gun with a heavy sigh. She shrugged and you saw pain in her eyes when she glanced at you. “I’m alive,” she muttered, before turning her eyes back to the field in front of you. “Maggie is too.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, catching her meaning exactly. “We just—have to keep going.”

She looked over at you. “Daryl told us what you did. I can’t imagine—”

You sniffled and averted your eyes with a shrug. “I just had to get him out of there,” you said.

She nodded and turned again to stare back out over the fields.

“Have you been getting any trouble from Gregory?” you asked. Sasha scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“That man is a useless weasel. But he’s stayed away from me. Maggie’s been dealing with him.”

You picked at a soft spot on top of the log in front of you with your index finger. “He struck me as a nutless slimeball,” you muttered. It actually elicited a laugh from Sasha and you joined her in a low chuckle, shaking your head.

“That’s accurate,” she said appreciatively.

“Hey!” A familiar, gruff voice down below. Daryl. “What the hell are ya doin’?” he yelled up at you.

“Uh oh. Busted,” you said in an undertone to Sasha. She laughed again. You went to the edge of the lookout stand and peered down at him. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” you said.

He shrugged vaguely and continued looking up at you. You turned back to Sasha. “See you later,” you said. You climbed down the ladder and were met at the bottom by the archer’s intense stare.

“What the hell are ya doin’ up there?”

You shrugged. “Just talking to Sasha,” you said.

Daryl scowled at you and shook his head. “Ya shouldn’t be up there. What if some of them are out there watchin’? What if they see ya?”

“They aren’t out there,” you said.

“Ya don’t know that!” he said angrily.

You sighed and put your hands on your hips, staring down at your boots. “Okay. Alright. I get it. I won’t go up there again.”

“Good,” he spat back at you.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Did you get any sleep?” you asked. He started pacing back toward the trailer and you fell in behind him. He only grunted over his shoulder which you interpreted as an answer similar to ‘not much’. “How come?”

“I just couldn’t, alright?” he said, irritation evident in his voice.

“Daryl,” you said, reaching out and grabbing his arm gently. “What’s wrong? Why do you sound… pissed?”

He stormed into the trailer and rounded on you suddenly. There was clearly something going on in his blue eyes, turmoil. He paced in front of the couch for a moment as you stared at him, trying to decode his sudden agitation. “How could ya—how could ya do what ya did?!” he demanded angrily. “How could ya go back to him? Ya let him—how could ya let him—put his hands on ya? Ya let him—how—” his voice broke and the anger that was there a moment before was gone, replaced by anguish.

You felt a sinking feeling in the middle of your chest, right between your lungs, as you suddenly understood that his anger wasn’t really anger.

He froze and chewed his bottom lip anxiously. There was a long pause where you could feel a bubble of tension growing between the two of you. He couldn’t meet your eyes. “M’sorry. ‘M so sorry,” he said gruffly. “You were right about going after them, after Denise. I should have listened to ya,” he said. “But I was so damn angry... And now… S’my fault you had to go back to him. S’my fault he—he had you to—” His jaw clenched and he looked away, forcing in a breath. “It’s my fault Glenn’s dead. There’s a whole goddamn pile of things that are my fault.”

“Hey—” You shook your head. “No. No, you don’t get to do that. Even if you hadn’t gone out there, Dwight might have come back and found us and Alexandria anyway. And Glenn—you weren’t holding the bat, Daryl.”

“Ya weren’t there,” he growled. “It was my fault. It was.”

“No.” Your voice was forceful. “It wasn’t. I might not have been at the line up with our people but I’ve been at one before and there is no way to know how many people would have died anyway. Negan’s like that. His men are like that. Could have been more or less regardless of whatever you did that you think got Glenn killed.”

Daryl turned away. He stood stock-still in the center of the room, his shoulders tense. “You can be pissed at me or at the universe or whatever you want,” you said. “I really don’t care at this point because I’m just so damn happy you’re not in there anymore. It doesn’t matter what it took. I was gonna get you out. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, especially you.” You sighed heavily and stared at his back and broad shoulders. “You have to know that. It was my choice to go back.”

Just then, at possibly the worst time, there was a knock on the door and you turned to answer it with a heavy sigh. The so-called “leader” of Hilltop, Gregory, was standing there on the doorstep. “Well, hello,” he said, nodding his head. You stepped back and peered at him with dislike. Daryl spun around to glare him down. “Aren’t—can I come in?” he asked.

You stepped back begrudgingly so he could take another step inside. He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and then put his hands on his hips, looking around the inside of the trailer. You noticed that Daryl picked up a crossbow he must have gotten from the armory and started fiddling with one of the bolts, purposely fixing his icy blue eyes on Gregory. “Well, now, Margaret—”

“Maggie,” you corrected him.

“Right. Maggie,” he started again, seeming to quail a little under the tone of your voice, “has said that you two escaped from The Saviors compound. Is that true?”

“Why do ya care?” Daryl snapped, leaning back against the dining table.

“Well, I care because this is my place and I am hoping to continue to have a peaceful working relationship with The Saviors and—and—and I,” he stammered, “don’t think that is possible if I am harboring fugitives amongst my people. Not safe for—for my community, you see.”

Daryl stood up, his chin inclined. “And?”

“And,” he said, raising a finger, “and I came to tell you that—you’re welcome to stay the night but I want you gone tomorrow. I have to do what’s right for my people.”

Daryl stepped forward his chest puffed up. “Who’s gonna throw us out? You?” he growled. “Ain’t no peace with The Saviors. You’ll figure that out eventually. Or did ya forget ya made a deal with us to get rid of ‘em?”

Gregory leaned back away from Daryl, who was getting right up in his face. “We haven’t had any trouble until—until you people showed up,” he said.

“Really?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “Remember Craig? Your man that they took? Who got him back? We did. You would have just let him die.” You scoffed.

Gregory glared at you and gestured vaguely with a hand. “Aren’t you his—his wife? Don’t you have some loyalty to—”

“Ya better fuckin’ watch what you’re about to say,” Daryl growled, poking a finger into Gregory’s chest and posturing at him. Gregory stepped back. “Ya don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he growled.

“It’s alright, Daryl. He’s obviously an idiot,” you said.

Gregory looked affronted. “What? I don’t have to stand for this! I’m the leader here! This is my place,” he said, puffing his chest out now. “If you both aren’t gone tomorrow, I’ll—I’ll tell Simon about all of you when they come for their next pick-up!”

Daryl hauled a fist back and punched Gregory hard across the face. His head snapped back and to the side and he let out a moan and groan dramatically. “Kal!” he yelled, for one of the guards. “Kal!”

Maggie and Enid appeared in the doorway as you were holding Daryl back from hitting Gregory again, your hands on his chest as he yelled at him over you. “Ya threatenin’ us, ya son of a bitch!? Ya don’t know who the hell you’re messin’ with!”

“Daryl! Hey! Daryl! Stop!” It was taking all your strength to hold him back. You could feel every muscle in his strong chest tensed beneath your hands.

“What’s goin’ on?” Maggie asked, her eyes wide.

“This prick threatened us!” Daryl roared. “Threatened to tell The Saviors about all of us here unless Y/N and I leave tomorrow,” he spat.

“Daryl!” you yelled again. You finally clasped his face in your hands and made him look at you. “Enough.” He softened immediately, his chest heaving. He stopped trying to push through you and instead paced a short distance away after your hands slipped from him.

“You threatenin’ us now?” Maggie asked him. Gregory was a pitiful sight, clutching a hand to his face where Daryl had punched him. “Do I have to remind you who exactly is trying to solve your problem with The Saviors?” Maggie drew herself up to her full height again. “We aren’t goin’ anywhere. And you’re not tellin’ The Saviors a damn thing. Ya know why? Because you need us. Things are gonna go bad for you soon enough. And when the time comes, you’re gonna need us to save your ass. You’re gonna need us to save your community because we actually know how to fight.”

“Get the fuck outta here,” Daryl snapped at him.

Gregory gave everyone a parting glare and laid it on thick, actually limping down the stairs and moaning about going to see Dr. Carson. You rolled your eyes and exchanged a look with Maggie.

“Ya alright?” she asked you. You nodded.

“Fine.”

“Alright. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight,” she said. You slammed the trailer door shut and turned to look at Daryl, who was still fuming.

“Ya shoulda let me hit him again,” he growled, grabbing his crossbow again.

“I think the one you got was good enough,” you said. You gulped at the lump in your throat. “Thanks for that. For standing up for me when he—”

“S’nothin’. That asshole dunno what the hell he’s talkin’ about.”

You nodded. “I’m tired,” you mused aloud.

Daryl nodded. “Ya. Ya need more rest. I’ll take the couch,” he said, setting his crossbow down and heading toward it.

“Seriously?”

His confused eyes snapped back at you. “What?”

You sighed. “Daryl, you’re not sleeping on the couch. Come over here,” you said, tilting your head. You walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back on one side, slipping underneath them. “I’ll take this side. You take the other.” You climbed into bed.

Daryl watched as you settled into the pillow, exhaustion settling over you. You could feel his eyes on you and you propped yourself up on your elbow. You anxiously chewed your bottom lip, wondering how much of what you were thinking that you should actually say.

“It’ll help me sleep… if you’re right here,” you said softly.

Daryl’s heart raced in his chest. How could he deny you that? And in truth, that was all he wanted, to be right there with you, knowing you were safe, asleep, beside him, out of the reach of Negan and his wandering hands. His mind wandered to what it would be like to have you fall asleep in his arms. He nudged his chin up a couple times. “Alright.”

“Thanks,” you murmured. You sighed and settled back into the pillow. You kept your eyes closed, but didn’t sleep yet, listening to Daryl softly moving about the room for a little while longer. Eventually you heard the soft rustling of fabric beside you and felt his weight on the other side of the bed.

He propped up the pillow and sat back against it on the headboard, his legs stretched out on top of the blankets, crossed at the ankles.

You smiled to yourself and finally allowed yourself to drift off.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #sacrifice #daryl dixon series

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lunaverseimagine · 3 years

Text

Whole

Summary: Y/n comes out to their best friend Fred as aroace.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.3k

The frosted grass crunched under your boots with every step you took towards the lake. You rubbed your gloved hands together and suppressed a shiver. You’d normally be sat by the warmth of the fire in this weather, but lately things had been weighing on your mind and you needed a walk to clear your head. You spotted Fred and Angelina leaning against a tree and holding hands. As you approached, the sound of their laughter reached your ears. You smiled at your best friend’s happiness. Fred had never looked more content than when he was with her, and you loved Angelina for giving him that.

Fred’s eyes caught yours across the courtyard and he waved at you with a grin.

“Y/n! Out in this weather? I suppose there are flying merpeople now too.” Angelina gave him a light-hearted shove and called you over. You trod carefully, not wanting to slip down the bank, and said to Fred, “watch your mouth or I might just set you on fire to warm me up.”

“Is that so?” he jested, and summoned a gust of wind which knocked your feet from under you, causing you to land on your backside and slide the rest of the way down the grassy slope. The three of you were laughing as you pushed yourself to your feet, only to tackle Fred onto the grass. When he looked up at you with a pout from his position on the ground, you simply said,

“I don’t want to be the only one with a wet butt,” before starting up a conversation with Angelina about her potions homework. While you were chatting about the best way to crush bat fangs, you noticed Fred giving you a quizzical glance. He was more perceptive than most people gave him credit for, especially his professors, and he knew that if you were out for a walk at this time of year then something was bothering you. He also seemed to realise that you didn’t want to discuss it at the moment, so instead he chipped in to your discussion with the helpful suggestion of chewing the bat fangs and spitting them into the cauldron.

~*~

In the Great Hall that evening, as you were eating your second helping of cottage pie, a handsome Ravenclaw boy shuffled up to the seat opposite you. He was in some of your classes but however hard you tried, you couldn’t recall his name. He was glancing around and hopping from foot to foot, as though he wanted to sit down but didn’t know if he should. You gave him an encouraging smile, wondering why he was so jittery. He tentatively sat on the seat, as though it might grow fangs and bite him. Fred looked at him and said “alright mate?”. The boy nodded while staring at the table in front of him. Fred’s eyes flicked from him to you, then shared a knowing look with Angelina before they both moved to a different spot on the table. You stared at them in confusion, wondering why they’d purposely left you alone with a boy you only vaguely knew.

The Ravenclaw gently cleared his throat, and mumbled more to the table than to you, “would you like to go on a date with me y/n?”

You felt your heart race, but not at excitement of being asked out. You played with a loose tag of skin on your thumb, trying to figure out a suitable response. Eventually, after so long the boy looked ready to leave without an answer, you said “I’m really flattered but no, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” He replied, standing up from his seat with downcast eyes and a slump to his shoulders that made you think it wasn’t ok at all. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the need to hastily add, “it’s not you. I’m just… I have feelings for someone else.”

He nodded, accepting your excuse, and slouched back to his table.

~*~

That night, you and Fred were sitting on the sofa in the common room, your legs on his lap as you read a book and he studied one of his new inventions. You loved these moments, when most students had gone to bed, and you could just exist in each other’s company. Things had gotten easier since Fred started seeing Angelina. You no longer felt that there was an expectation for you and Fred to start dating just because you were close. You loved him as a friend, and that was it.

You started to feel Fred’s eyes on you so you turned your focus from your book to him.

“What is it?”

He started wiggling his eyebrows. “So…?” You weren’t sure what he was referring to, and your expression obviously conveyed this because he clarified, “you and Peter?” You recognised Peter as the Ravenclaw’s name from dinner. You shrugged at Fred.

“He asked me out, I wasn’t interested, and I told him so.” You suddenly felt yourself being defensive, even though Fred had done nothing wrong.

“He was cute though, why didn’t you give him a chance?” You thought about how to answer the question but before you could, Fred added “Is there someone else? There is isn’t there. I bet they’re on the Quidditch team. People can’t resist us athletes.” To emphasise his point, he flexed his bicep, and you rolled your eyes.

“Well, that’s what I told him.” You started fiddling with the pages of your book.

“But..?” Fred prompted.

“But there’s not.”

Fred looked a bit surprised, but he regained his composure as he said, “so, why did you say no?” His eyes widened. “Are you into girls? Because it’s totally awesome if you are.”

You let out a breathy chuckle but shook your head, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, what is it then?” When you stayed silent, he added, “is this why you went on a walk this morning? Is this what was weighing on that pretty mind of yours?” You gave him a brief smile and nodded, moving your legs from his lap so you could sit facing him.

You met his eyes as you said, “Fred, I’m not attracted to anyone. I never have been. Romantically or… physically.” You cleared your throat, but Fred just sat looking intently at you. “And… I don’t think I ever will be.”

Fred nodded slowly, absorbing this information. “How do you- how do you know? That you’ll never experience the attraction, I mean.”

This was a question you’d expected, and had asked yourself many times while you figured out this part of your identity.

“Are you attracted to men, Fred?”

He shook his head.

“And do you think you’ll ever be attracted to a man?” Realisation dawned in his features as he got what you were alluding to. You can be certain about a lack of attraction in the same way that you can be certain about its presence, although you’ll admit the former normally takes a while longer to figure out.

“Point well made, y/n. So this means you’re not straight, or gay, or anything else?”

You let out a small chuckle.

“Nope. There is a word for it- well, there’s two actually. Aromantic and asexual. Or aroace for short.”

Fred put a hand on your knee and grinned at you.

“Well y/n, aroace sounds awesome, and I love you. Exactly as you are.” You leaned to forward to grip him in a tight embrace as you felt your eyes welling with tears. You hadn’t realised how worried you were about his reaction until he responded and your gut flooded with relief. He didn’t think you were broken. He didn’t think you weren’t whole.

You are whole and you are loved, exactly as you are.

End

Thank you so much for reading. These past few months I’ve been figuring out that I’m aroace, and I feel like there’s such a lack of representation. That being said, I highly recommend Loveless by Alice Osman for an awesome aroace main character figuring out her sexuality. Remember, you are valid and you are whole <3 If you liked this fic please like/comment/reblog, it’s super encouraging.

For more of my work, check out my masterlist :3

#fred weasley fanfic #asexual reader #aromantic reader #fred weasley imagine #aroace #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #george weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #Weasley Twins Fanfic #weasley twins one shot #weasley twins oneshot #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff

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deleteddewewted · 3 years

Note

Ok, this is my last request, I swear and scout's honor...I'm sorry for bothering you and being annoying, please forgive me!

Uhm...how about a fic or headcanons on Monoma with a female s/o who's short (as in, 4' 11"...I think our boy is 5' 7", but I could be wrong) and is a coffee-addict, and it gets to a point where Monoma's worried for her addiction and health, so he tries to keep it away from her for a few days, please? He can also like, tease her about it and play the height bully since she's a shrimp compared to him when she tries to get her coffee back?

Like last time, I don't mind if what you write is sfw or nsfw. I just need more blonde copycat boi in my life, lol! Thank you! 😊 I hope you have a good day/night/weekend!

I’M SO HAPPY YOU CAME BACK!!! Don’t ever feel like your annoying, i love hearing from you.

It took me a bit to make this, sorry about that. Hope you enjoy!

Caffeine Rush

Monoma x F! Reader

Note: H/c (your hair color)

W: Mentions of NSFW, Monoma Being Absolutely in Love With You

TW: Vomit, Addiction

Monoma’s favorite thing to do each morning is to wake up to your beautiful face. You always tell him that it isn’t but he gladly disagrees with you because you’re wrong. He would watch you sleep for a few minutes, hours if the day before was truly exhausting for you, and just sigh like the lovesick fool he was. That peace becoming disrupted when the alarm in his phone would go off indicating the beginning of the weekday.

“My love, wake up.” Monoma leaned down to shower you with kisses, even as you swatted him away with your hand. The attempts that were made to cover yourself with the blanket didn’t stop him from attacking you with hugs. Warm and inviting rest but quickly changing to panic as he lifted you from the bed and walked out to the common area blanket included. Your other classmates were already up doing their usual morning routines. They found your relationship with Monoma adorable, concerning but adorable. The way Monoma brags about you and your achievement was sickening.

“Nei! Put me down, please. I was comfortable and warm.” Monoma laughed at the whining and placed you down on the couch.

“No can do my love. You need fuel in that body of yours. A healthy meal makes a healthy body. A healthy body makes a healthy mind.” You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends’ poetic speech and made yourself comfortable on the couch, laying down and covering yourself again with the blanket he wrapped you in.

“What do want for breakfast, my love?”

“Give me coffee, no sugar. If there are any muffins, give me one please.” Monomas posture deflated a little to the request.

“Coffee, again?” He questioned. You nodded your head and drifted back to sleep. The rest of the class watched as Monoma begrudgingly made the coffee you requested. The entire time he was mumbling something under his breath, something about how you loved the tar drink more than him.

You thanked him once he handed over your drink while Monoma sat down next to you with his meal. He leaned into you and ate in peace. He kept grumbling from time to time and chewed violently when he took another bite.

“Monoma? What are you doing?” You asked him.

“Nothing.” Was his only response before continuing to shovel food into his mouth. Once finished, he took your empty cup and his plate to the sink to wash. You on the other hand had other plans.

“Neito, I’m going out. I’ll see you later.” Monoma said goodbye to you and let you go. He knew what you were planning on doing and he wasn’t happy about it. Honestly, it was ridiculous how much you seemed to depend on it. It was the weekend, so there was no harm in leaving campus.

You got dressed back in your dorm room and said your goodbyes to your classmates who were still in the common area. As you headed into the city you went straight to your favorite shop. It was a small business run by a college kid who had too much money and too much time to burn. You weren’t about to complain, the coffee was good and the environment was pleasant to be in. Once there you ordered your usual coffee variant and sat down to enjoy it, not being aware that you were being watched the entire time.

Monoma was fuming. Another cup of coffee right away? You just drank your first a few minutes ago, why would you need another one? It wasn’t like you didn’t work hard, that wasn’t the problem. You were dedicated to training and your relationship with him. He understands that he could be a hassle sometimes and he’s very grateful for the opportunity to be with you, but this was just ridiculous. He didn’t want to destroy your piece but it had to be done.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” You turned towards the voice and watched as your boyfriend walked up to you. He was marching, an interesting choice but he was him so it wasn’t out of character.

“Hi, Nei is there a problem? Also, why did you follow me?” You asked amused. Monoma didn’t bother to sit down once he was next to you instead, he opted to bend down to look at you. He wasn’t happy.

“I followed you to see if you were going to buy another cup of coffee. Do you want to guess what happened Y/n? Hmm?” You giggled at him and took a sip from your drink.

“I bought coffee.”

“Yes, you bought coffee!” The other customers in the shop turned to look at the scene Monoma was making and the sudden attention filled you with embarrassment. You didn’t think Monoma would make a huge deal out of something so meaningless.

“Nei, cut it out!” You whisper yelled at him. You tried pulling him down so he would sit, instead, Monoma grabbed your cup and your hand. He dragged you out of the shop and walk with you to the train station.

“Where are we going now?” Monoma didn’t bother to respond to you. He just stared ahead of him and kept your coffee cup away from you. Once the train arrived he practically picked you up and took you inside. It was a bit empty so he was able to find seats for the both of you, he wrapped an arm around you as he kept the cup in between his legs and out of your reach. He pulled you up once you got to the correct stop and took you to the entrance of the mall.

“Whats this Nei? A last-minute date?” You teased. Monomas face flushed and just ignored your stare.

“We haven’t gone on a date in some time-”

“We had one yesterday.”

“So I thought that this would be nice and I also get to spoil you, so don’t complain.” He took your hand and brought you inside.

It was bustling with life. People walking around looking for things that they need and buying others that they don’t. It was a pleasant scene yet your body would disagree with you. The throbbing that you felt in the front part of your skull wasn’t pleasant but it was constant. It’s been like this for a few weeks. You read that coffee could help with easing it, something about it probably the throbbing being due to some visual exposure. Monoma had taken your drink so that was no longer an option. Knowing him, he probably takes a small sip and then spits it out while berating you on how your taste buds must be dead if you didn’t react as he did.

“So where to?” You asked him. Monoma laced his hand with yours and walked you to a clothing store. He looked at different articles of clothing and asked for your input. Most of the things he picked out were simple in design or minimalist, nothing that needed consideration. Yet he asked and you being the ever caring girlfriend gave some input.

“This would look nice with um, with some light blue jeans” The throbbing in your head was beginning to get worse and it wasn’t helping that the bright light within the store was the only thing to look at. It was too much for you.

“Hey, Monoma. I need to go to the bathroom, ok?” You left Monoma in the middle of the store as he just watched you go. He spoke to you but you couldn’t hear him.

He had tried reaching for you but you were already too far for him to grab. Monoma. You called him by his last name instead of his first. In the times that you both have had arguments, you always called him by his first name no matter what the situation was. You’ve been acting odd for some time and it was worrying him. He was aware that you drank more than the recommended when it came to coffee, so it wasn’t surprising that you felt ill. Monoma was no stranger to bad habits, he was being too clingy and overly competitive. You reassured him that he wasn’t clingy and that you found it endearing more than anything. Regarding the competitiveness, he could tone it down a little bit when it came to arguing with the other hero course. He felt like he was annoying to you and that you only started dating him because you felt pity for him after he fell on his face as he was running up to you. His nose was bleeding but that didn’t stop you from kissing him on the lips and accepting his date offer. He loved you, he’s known this since his first year. Seeing you sick was upsetting, he felt like a lost boyfriend for not helping you. He tried, he hides the coffee grounds, he hides your wallet sometimes and even started having you sleep in his dorm to ensure you slept.

Monoma waited outside of the store for a moment, waiting to see if you would come back once you were done in the bathroom. You never came back which lead to him going towards the bathrooms. He was met with a line of women waiting for the bathroom and a few people waiting outside of the all gendered bathroom.

“Hello. I’m sorry to interrupt you but did you by any chance see a woman who looked ill come by here?” The person turned around to look at Monoma.

“Was it someone with h/o hair?” Monoma nodded his head and the stranger pointed at one of the bathrooms that were occupied. Monoma thanked them and knocked on the door gently.

”Y/n. It’s me, are you ok?” You tried answering but the sound of gagging and something liquid hitting the toilet was indicating that you wouldn’t answer him. Monoma quickly asked around to see who had a quirk that allowed him to help you. He found someone whose quirk allowed them to change their fingers into any key, interesting quirk, and he opened the bathroom door. When he closed it he saw you slumped over the toilet throwing up.

“Nei- I can’t- breath.” You hiccuped. Monoma pulled your hair back and rubbed your back in a soothing motion.

“It’s ok, I’m here.” You continued to throw up everything in your stomach. Almost everything that came up was liquid and smelled heavily of stomach acid with a touch of coffee. Monoma watched in horror as you emptied yourself. He felt useless. He couldn’t do anything other than making sure that your clothes stayed clean.

“Y/n, let me take you back to the dorms. You need to get checked by Recovery Girl.” You felt too dizzy to protest and just lifted your arms and had him carry you out.

On the train, Monoma draped his jacket over your head, hiding you away from any light that could worsen your headache. He kept you close, your head laying on top of his shoulder and his hand on the side of your head keeping you steady as the train rocked. Once off, he picked you up and carried you to Recovery Girl. She asked him a multitude of questions about what happened and asked him to step outside of the infirmary. She sent you to your dorm to rest with a bottle full of medicine and Monoma picked you up again to make the trip easier on you.

At your dorm, he laid you down on your bed and went down to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. You sat yourself up on your bed and took some of the liquid medicine. It was bitter yet sweet, it soothed your aching throat and helped ease your agitated stomach. When Monoma came back he crouched down in front of you, handing you the glass of water he had gotten for you.

“How do feel?” His face was showered with concern. This wasn’t uncommon for him when it came to you or any of his classmates. He didn’t like seeing you hurt nor sick, so this was overwhelming his heart a little bit.

“My throat burns a bit but I’m ok.” You smiled weakly. Monoma didn’t believe anything you were telling him but he also didn’t want to start an argument.

Monoma decided to pull you into bed and lay next to you. He covered your body with his arms around your waist as he tangled your legs with his own. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, then placing his chin on the top of your head.

“Rest my love. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” You didn’t attempt to argue with him. Your head was hurting badly and your body was still tense from the vomiting you did earlier. You made yourself comfortable within Monomas chest and used him as an anchor. He was warm and welcoming, how couldn’t you take advantage of this.

The morning came and so did the sunlight that invaded your room. Monoma woke up ready to look at your beautiful face, a smile already forming as he imagined how you would look that morning. Ethereal as always he believes. Yet, when he opened his eyes you weren’t comfortably placed in his arms. You weren’t even in the room. He shot up from the bed and went rushing down to the common room.

“Y/n! What are you doing!?” Monoma watched you as you were seated on one of the tables. With a cup of steaming coffee. Again.

“My head hurts, the coffee helps it feel better.” Monomas eyes widened as he walked towards you.

“I understand, but couldn’t you have taken some pain medication or have at least told me?” He stood next to you and looked at how much coffee you still had left in your cup. It was at halfway. He made an executive decision and grabbed it from you.

“Neito, what are you?” You tried to reach for the cup but it was immediately raised above you.

“Nei, that isn’t funny. Give me back my coffee!” Monoma only grinds at you.

“No, it isn’t my fault you’re the shortest person in our year.” You used your quirk to try and inflict some damage onto him but to no avail. He just raised it higher.

“Nei! I swear you’re all legs and arms. How are you this tall!?” Monoma could only laugh at your silly attempts to reach for the cup. He leaned down enough for your faces to meet.

“I’ll give it back if you promise me something.”

“Sure, what is it?” Monomas grin softened around the edges. His eyes looking briefly at your lips and back to your eyes.

“For one, limit your coffee intake.” You frowned at him.

“Didn’t you just hear me? It helps with the headaches.”

“And for two,” He got closer to you. His mouth inches from your own. “For every time you minimize, ill give you whatever else you want.”

You cocked a brow up and returned the sly grin.

“Oh, like what exactly Neito Monoma?” He shivered at the mention of his full name. A tint becoming present on his cheeks.

“I don’t know, maybe kissing.” He leaned closer. Your lips touching but just by a little.

“Or maybe something more.” He added in. You decided to take the lead and closed the gap between the two of you. His lips were surprisingly soft, must be because of the religious chapstick use.

He became impatient and pushed his tongue into your mouth. He sighed into the kiss and pull you in closer by placing a hand on your lower back. You kissed back with fever and played with his tongue a bit. You made him moan, the hand holding the cup lowering to place it on the table. You quickly snatched it from him and backed away from the kiss you were sharing. A wet popping sound made itself present once you parted from him, a light string of saliva attached to your once connected lips. Monoma looked confused, his eyes hazy from the euphoria of kissing you.

“What?” He asked confused. You just giggled and walked away with the cup of the now lukewarm coffee. Monoma quickly trailed behind you, hand reaching out to take the cup. You walked to the sink and dumped all of the coffee down the drain.

“I know I should stop. I know.” You turned towards him and place your hand on his cheek. You admired him for a moment. His face was still red and his chest was still expanding slowly trying to get more air in. You gently caressed his lips with your thumb and quickly gave him a peck on them.

“But I’ll only stop because you asked me to.” You kissed him deeply. Monoma wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

“I love you Nei.” Monomas face flushed deeper and he hid his face on the crook of your neck. He had to bend down to do so but it was worth it.

“I love you too Y/n.”

#monoma x you #bnha monoma #monoma x reader #mha monoma #monoma neito #monoma #monoma neito x reader #monoma x f! reader #monoma x y/n #mha monoma x reader #mha #bnha

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brywrites · 3 years

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Blindsided

Reid x Reader. In which Reid is an expert in human behavior, but misses the signs when it comes to the person who matters most. @imagining-in-the-margins had a decliend request a little while ago that was up for grabs in which the Reader has an eating disorder, and I thought I’d give it a try. CW, of course, for descriptions of disordered eating.

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There are signs. Small and subtle, often imperceptible to the untrained eye. The trouble is, his eyes are quite trained. He’s spent a lifetime learning how to look carefully, consider all the possibilities, profile the most minute behavior. But Spencer Reid is still somehow blindsided by this.

Maybe it was her strength. She has always seemed so perfectly balanced, never too thrown off by a hard day at work or an unforeseen circumstance. She seems to excel at her job with ease, she makes friends everywhere they go, and she always knows just what to say when he’s having a bad day. Like a lighthouse, she has always shined so bright, a beacon even when his mind is a hurricane. Maybe that’s why he never stopped to question anything, because she was the steadiest thing he knew.

Maybe it was his job. The months went by in a blur, an endless carousel of cases, a carnival wheel of horrors. There are weeks where he’s only home for a few days at a time before he’s calling her to tell her he has to fly somewhere again. Being away from home means being away from her. He doesn’t see her as consistently, and when he does he’s so exhausted that he loses his train of thought far too often for a genius with an eidetic memory.

Maybe because she didn’t want him to see. Maybe because he didn’t want to see what was right in front of him all along.

It starts with dinner dates. Rather than relishing a night out, she starts making plans for coffee shops or walks in the park. He supposes it’s nice to change things up and doesn’t say a word about it. Besides, it’s much easier to kiss her in a park than it is from across a restaurant table. But then she starts to shy away from his touch. She’ll let him kiss her and often reaches for his hand, but she dodges his hugs. Where she used to gently push things forward in their physical relationship, trying to encourage him to feel more comfortable, she’s suddenly become the reluctant one. Her clothes become loose and baggy and he wonders if she simply isn’t attracted to him anymore. He takes comfort in the fact that her words and actions say otherwise. She still looks at him like a sunrise, her smile is still so bright.

But even that begins to dim. She looks tired sometimes – when he isn’t looking right at her, he swears he catches her reflection or a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye frowning at the floor or staring off blankly into space. Every time he adjusts his focus back on her though, she’s looking at him with a smile. She’s more irritable than usual, that’s for sure. A disagreement will cause her to snap at him or withdraw into herself. One day he goes to meet her at her apartment after work at her request. He lets himself in and waits for her to arrive, biding his time by reading a book and eating a snack. To his disappointment, he finds no sweets – she’s never been big on junk food, but her pantries seem a bit more sparse than usual – but settles down with a yogurt cup that will at least stave off his appetite long enough for them to walk around a museum before dinner.

She comes home smiling, already asking him about his day and telling him about this new exhibit she can’t wait to see with him. She just needs to get a snack and then she’ll be ready, she assures him. But when she opens the fridge, her face falls.

The sound of frantic rummaging startles him. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

“There was yogurt in here, I swear I had a strawberry yogurt left,” she says, more so to herself than to him.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just ate it – I didn’t get the chance to eat lunch today.”

Her eyes narrow. “What? Why would you do that?” The sound of her voice is unusually sharp.

“I – I just, I knew we were going to be out for a while and I just – well–” He stumbles over his words. This is what they always do. His apartment may as well be hers, and she has always told him to make himself at home here. They borrow books and grab snacks from each other, coming and going and forgetting a sweater or a pair of shoes here and there.

“You couldn’t have waited for me to get home? Why didn’t you ask me? I can’t believe you did that!”

He stares back at her, utterly confused. “It’s – it’s just yogurt,” he says.

She presses her lips into a fine line and for a moment he fears she might cry. But then she disappears into her bedroom and comes out ten minutes later in clothes more suited for a walk. He reminds her that she was going to get a snack. She says she’s not that hungry. And he’s too flustered to notice the sign staring him in the face.

As though she’s pulling away from the world, she stops making as many plans with friends. She spends more time at home. Her weekend jogs go for hours while he waits with coffee that is almost always cold by the time she arrives at the bakery to have breakfast with him. One day he bumps into Rina, one of her friends from work. She asks him, offhandedly, if he has any good restaurant recommendations since her parents are coming to visit this weekend. Reid responds with puzzled surprise.

“Sorry,” Rina says, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just figured you must have a few in mind since you and Y/N have been trying all those new places.” He tilts his head and she winces in apology. “I don’t mean to pry! But you know we started doing an office happy hour on Thursdays, and she hasn’t been able to come since you two always have dinner reservations at that time. Of course, based on the places she said you’ve been, it seems well worth it.”

He just smiles through the confusion and offers up the name of a nice Indian place he’s been before. He makes a note to ask Y/N about this, but the BAU gets called away in the middle of the night and all is forgotten in favor of solving the case. It takes five days before they finally do, and Rossi invites everyone and their partners over to his mansion to celebrate. Y/N is delighted to see his team, and for a moment everything feels normal. She’s chatting away with Emily and Morgan, asking Garcia about the community theatre production she’s starring in. It’s all normal. It’s all her.

Then Rossi calls them to the dining room, where there’s more than enough food and libations to go around. Everyone’s plates have already been piled with sautéed zucchini, tortellini alfredo, and garlic bread courtesy of their host, who insists presentation is just as important as taste when it comes to fine dining.

The meal is divine and the company is wonderful and there’s whispers of tiramisu for dessert. Reid doesn’t have a care in the world, all too happy to be eating more than his fill of garlic bread surrounded by his favorite people. But then midway through dinner, Rossi points a fork at Y/N. “You’ve hardly touched the pasta, kid,” he says. “Come on, I slaved over a hot stove for two hours to make that. Do you not like it?”

She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, her eyes wide as everyone turns to look at her and the food that has been artfully rearranged but hardly touched on her plate. “Um,” she says. “No, no it’s great – I’ve just been having such a good time talking to everyone I’m forgetting to eat.” She puts a spoonful of it to her lips, covering her mouth as she chews. “Really, really good,” she insists.

Dinner comes to a close, and he glances over at Y/N, whose plate is now two-thirds empty. Her previously chipper conversation has fallen flat, and she’s staring into space once again. But this time, his gaze on her doesn’t seem to bring her back down to earth. Rossi and Garcia briefly slip into the kitchen and return with a massive sheet of tiramisu. It looks like heaven. He’s beginning to worry that he might have to loosen his belt a notch or two at this rate.

Abruptly, Y/N stands from her seat. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well,” she says, her voice strained. “I’m gonna go get some air.” She flees the room before he can even get up. As fast as his legs will carry him, he runs to the back door to join her outside. She’s sitting on the patio, arms curled around her legs. For just a second he’s afraid the food has made her sick, but then he hears it. Sobbing. She’s crying.

And suddenly it all makes sense.

The weight of the realization nearly knocks him over. How could he not see? How could he have missed this? There were so many cases to keep on top of, so many people to profile, but none of them matter the way this does. The way she does.

Reid walks over and sits down on the ground beside her. When he puts his arm around her shaking shoulders, she doesn’t pull away. “Y/N,” he says softly. She looks up at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide this from me. I know.” And then her arms are around him and her face is buried in his chest and he’s holding her as tight as he can. When he feels the sharpness of her shoulderblades, his heart sinks. It’s bad. It’s been bad for a while now, and all this time he couldn’t see it. She was struggling alone with an eating disorder all this time, and he missed the most basic clues. How can he call himself a profiler? How can he call himself her boyfriend?

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Please, tell me what’s going on. Tell me how I can help.”

When she finally catches her breath, she has a hard time meeting his eyes. “When I was fourteen, I spent two months in the hospital for anorexia. I was in and out of treatment through high school, but I finally got things under control in college. And they stayed that way for a long time. But five months ago, things starting getting bad again. I don’t really even know what triggered it. Work was getting so stressful, and you had that close call in the field, and my mom visited and spent all this time picking things about my life apart in that passive aggressive way she does and I just… I don’t know. A missed one meal because I was working late. And it was so easy to just miss another. I told myself I should get back in shape, so I tried to eat cleaner and ran more. But then I felt like I was taking up too much space and I didn’t deserve to and I needed to stop. And everything just fell back into place – counting calories, skipping meals, restricting… I knew what I was doing, I knew, but I couldn’t stop.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.”

“It’s like I can’t turn that voice off telling me that I’m too much or I’m eating too much and… I didn’t want you think I was stupid or shallow and I didn’t want you to see me the way I saw myself.” Her voice breaks and the sound wounds him. She’s been hurting alone all this time because she was afraid of what he’d think of her. He reminds himself that it’s not a reflection of their relationship, it’s the disorder talking – she’s ashamed and afraid.

“I would never think that. And you’re not stupid. I mean, with an eating disorder, it’s not about the food, not really – it’s a coping mechanism, right?” Albeit a deadly one.

She nods, then sighs, “When everything else is out of control I feel like… like if I can just control my weight, if I can be perfect at this, then it’s okay that everything else is a mess. I know that’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he assures her. “Y/N, I don’t understand everything you’re feeling. But I do know that eating disorders are like an addiction. And I do understand that. And I understand how hard it is to ask for help.”

“Sometimes,” she says, “I’m not sure I want to get help. And maybe I don’t need to. I mean it’s not that bad, I’m not really that sick. I’ve been worse.”

“Sweetheart.” He smooths her hair back. “You’re crying over a plate of pasta. Now I don’t think that’s silly,” he adds quickly. “But it’s serious. Carbohydrates shouldn’t reduce you to tears. Dinner should have to feel like a battle. You don’t deserve to feel that way.”

“What if I do?” she cries. “I’m such a mess anyways. You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. With me. You have to fight literal monsters and I’m so weak. I hate that I’m this way. I hate myself.”

Reid places a hand under her chin and gently turns her towards him so he can look into her eyes. They’re wide and teary and so afraid. She’s never looked more fragile. “But I love you. I love you so much. And if you can’t, I’ll love you enough for the both of us. I’ll do anything I can to help you through this. But please let me help you through this.”

“I don’t know.”

He sighs. “I’m going to tell you some things you already know, okay? Eating disorders are the deadliest of all mental illnesses. One in five people will die from their disorder. The complications include heart failure, osteoporosis, gastroparesis, fainting, and kidney failure. Many of them can’t be reversed. This illness is deadly, sweetheart. It’s dangerous. Even if you don’t think it’s that bad, I don’t want it to get worse. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t.”

It’s quiet there in the yard, the sun dipping below the trees, Rossi’s garden lights twinkling on. There’s nothing but the sound of her sniffles and his pounding heart.

“I’ll tell Hotch I’m taking two months off. I’ll be home all the time. You can come over any time it’s getting bad. Or I can stay with you. We can cook together. I’ll go with you to therapy. Whatever you need. You won’t have to do this alone.”

“You have work,” she says. “The team needs you. There are cases.”

“They can solve them without me,” he replies, not missing a beat. “They’ve done it before. I have eighty-four vacation days saved up, they can’t stop me. Look, I love my job, and the BAU will always save lives. But the most important life to me is yours. I missed enough because of work. I’m not going to make that same mistake twice. I love you. Everything else can wait. Okay?”

A long moment passes. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.” He pulls her into another hug and her whole body trembles as she cries. He fights back tears because what she needs is for him to be strong. For him to be here. And he isn’t going anywhere.

When she’s regained her composure, slips his suit jacket off and puts it over her shoulders, like a shock blanket. They walk back inside where he quickly explains that she’s not feeling well and they’re going to head out early. Nobody asks any questions, and for that he’s thankful. Garcia wishes for her to feel better and JJ promises they’ll see her soon.

She asks him to stay with her that night, and he does. He holds her close beneath the blankets as she falls asleep, hoping that she can feel just how much he loves her. If that was all it took to help her heal, she would have recovered in that very moment. But it isn’t that simple. True to his word, he takes time off. He sits with her and helps her find a specialist to see. He drives her to and from the clinic for her extensive outpatient therapy, and when she gets to come home he’s there to offer a distraction while helping her stick to her prescribed meal plan.

It isn’t always easy. She takes hours to finish a meal, going bite by bite and pushing the food into patterns on the plate. He prefers that to the times she yells at him or sobs and he knows it’s not her fault. It’s the disorder. It’s the voice of the demon that has such a strong grip on the love of his life. He lets her yell. He lets her cry. And he lets her hold him tight when she needs some way to anchor herself in the moment, to hold on to something other than her own body and her own fears.

The day she comes home from the outpatient program and says, “I’m missing so much, aren’t I?” is the day he knows things are looking up. “I pushed away my friends and work and I stopped going places because I was afraid there would be food and I stopped seeing you so I could run more and that’s not living, and – and I want to live so badly,” she cries. “I don’t want counting calories and weighing myself to be all that there is.”

“And it won’t be,” he promises her. “You’re fighting so hard to live.”

“What if I do this, all the therapy and all the meal plans and all the work, what if I gain back the weight and everything but I’m still miserable?” she asks. “What if it doesn’t get better?”

Reid rubs circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “It will. You know it will because you’ve done this before. I thought the same thing when I started going to NA, but you know what I realized? I was afraid that nothing would ever feel better but I was more afraid that it would be better. That I’d feel happy and I wouldn’t know what to do because I wasn’t sure who I would be without the dilaudid anymore.” The vicious cycle of getting high and coming down had been familiar at least, and he was afraid to lose anything else, even the habit. “But I was so much better without it. It was hard at first – but after I was so much happier. You’re not this disease. You’re so much more than that, and I will be right here to remind you of that any time you need me to.”

He pulls her into his lap and then lies back against the couch, her head on his chest as he holds her close to him. If only an embrace were enough to keep her safe. If only he could fight off the voices in her head with his own vocal affirmations. It doesn’t hurt to try, so he lists off a litany of things he loves about her. Detailing everything from the easy way she makes friends to the softness of her smile to the way he feels better just seeing her. He praises her generous spirit and her work ethic and the excellent way she kisses him.

“You’re the bravest person I know,” he tells her. “And you always make me feel so brave. Maybe that’s why I missed it. You’ve always been so strong. But you don’t have to be, okay? I know my job is hard, but I can be strong too. I know I can’t break down a door like Morgan,” Reid jokes, earning a half-laugh from her. “And I couldn’t bench press ten pounds to save my life, but you can lean on me. I’m not going to break. Nothing you need is ever going to be too much.” He places a kiss on the top of her head. “Never. Not when you’re everything to me.”

As the final month of his vacation time draws to a close, her smile comes a little easier. She graduates from the intensive outpatient program into regular therapy. And when she comes home that day, he sees it. That smile of hers his back. The light has returned to her eyes, and he can feel how much brighter the world is. His lighthouse his back, but he knows know that she needs him to guide her safe to shore sometimes, too. He’ll be the one to make sure her light doesn’t burn out.

There are signs, small and subtle as she comes back to him. Nearly imperceptible to the untrained eye. But her clothes aren’t quite so baggy. She doesn’t bury herself under sweaters three sizes too big. Her kitchen becomes more than vegetables and protein bars. She goes out with her friends from work. He kisses her on a park bench and she pulls him in deeper.

And Reid knows it’s not over yet, that recovery is long and it is not linear, but his heart lifts when she asks to get dinner with him and he wants to cry when she steals some of the dessert he orders, smiling at him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you,” she tells him. “For loving me even when I couldn’t.”

“You did all the hard work,” he says. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. And I’m never going to stop.” It’s a promise he intends to keep. Because he knows it isn’t true what they say – you don’t have to love yourself before you can love somebody else. For the longest time he couldn’t stand himself – but her loved her so much. And in loving her, he found himself. He never liked himself quite so much as when he could love her right. He would love her in all the moments she couldn’t love herself, just as she had for him. And until the end of his days, if she’d let him.

#spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #blindsided #brywrites #criminal minds fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #eating disorder

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yuzukult · 4 years

Text

effortlessly pt. 9 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly pairing: jungkook x reader words: 5.0k genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut some chapters notes: this is more of a self-realization chapter, less of the romance :) oc development & one more chapter left before an epilogue!!!! thank you all for your support and patience, i know i took a while with this one, mostly because i really wanted to take a break and write something else. :)

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue

Yura’s cheeks are stuffed with the pastries from the bakery that was recommended by one of Jungkook’s teammates, something you’ve been meaning to take her to lately but with your mind flooded with thoughts on your future, there hasn’t been much time to dedicate to her.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” She’s eyeing you quizzically, uncomfortable with your distraught gaze. “You seem like you have something to say, so spit it.”

“I’m sorry,” You blurt with an agonizing frown. “I’ve been a terrible friend.”

“Why do you say that?”

Pushing the plate of baked goods away from you, your body slouches in the seat. The aroma of the flakey croissant beside the in-house made strawberry jam wasn’t appealing anymore and your previous conceptions stole away your appetite. “You didn’t tell me you wanted to be a cook.”

She rolls her eyes with a soft smile, shoving the plate back toward you. “Eat, loser.”

“Oh, come on. Stop acting like you’re not mad at me. I had no idea you were even going through anything—”

“Idiot, I’m not going through anything. I’m also not trying to be a cook. I’m trying to be a chef.” She corrects you, tearing off a piece of the croissant and bringing it to your lips. “Now take a bite of this, it’s crazy good.”

Abiding by her instruction, you open your mouth for her to feed you, chewing the soft pastry as it melts effortlessly on your tongue. “Good, right?” You nod in agreement. “I can’t help but think that I could’ve been there for you when you needed me the most. You were going through something, you were just as lost as I am.”

“Well, don’t feel bad. I kind of knew for a while, but I wasn’t sure. Sometimes we have to go through things alone to learn more about ourselves. Then Jungkook asked if I could help him with your little date, so I offered to do a picnic basket. It was for practice, and he seemed to be okay with it. How was the omelette?”

“Amazing. Which is why I was upset that I wasn’t a good enough friend to know that you cook so well.”

“Oh, please. Stop exaggerating... but really though. Was it that good?” Her eyes lit up at the compliment, emitting a chuckle from you. “It was, Yura. I’m seriously so proud of you. I wish I knew about your talents sooner.”

Yura’s kind and patient, the qualities in a friend that everyone searches for. She has developed into a person who you found yourself depending on, someone who you wanted to stay around to share both good and bad times. Knowing that you weren’t there when she potentially needed you only made you disappointed in yourself. It was your turn to return the actions she provided for you; it was your turn to be a good friend.

She’s rolling her eyes again, a smile appearing upon her lips. “I told you, this is nothing. I’m still learning things about myself, so don’t worry, you didn’t miss out on anything.” You don’t believe her, but you take her words nonetheless, because you promise yourself and to her that from this day on, you’d try harder to be a better friend to her.

Walking out the café, a backpack slung over your shoulder, you glance at Yura who zips up her hoodie, snuggling in closer to the fabric to regain warmth as the night approaches along with the cool wind that blows in your direction. “Are you going to take the apprenticeship?”

“How’d you even hear about that?” You’re surprised she knows this; there hadn’t been much exchange between the two of you since the last time you hung out. Yura scoffs, shaking her head as she fixes the straps of her backpack, strolling down the street beside you. “I’m your best friend, of course I know about it.”

“Jungkook? Hoseok? Which one was it that spilled?”

“Jungkook,” She confirms, a playfully innocent grin glued to her face. “But that’s besides the point. You got an offer of a lifetime, what does that mean for you?” There's not much of a reaction from you, other than a slight shrug that you give her. It seemed great— getting an apprenticeship for a position that isn't for just anyone, but for you specifically. This was an endeavor that you never imagined yourself encountering. Goals and aspirations were a list to some people, especially Jungkook, but for you, that list hadn't been anything more than a title. So what did it mean to you, this opportunity that presented itself? "I don't know," You respond honestly, uncertain of what next steps to take. "I kind of am going through a dilemma." Yura raises a brow questioningly at you. "What is it?" You chew your bottom lip for a moment, trying to gather all your thoughts in a place before taking a deep breath of courage before exposing yourself to your friend. "Is it weird that I've been with Jungkook all my life, and now my so-called aspiration is on the same route of his?"

"Nobody is calling it that." "But if he's on the path of being a professional— what does it mean for me? Am I just a follower? Oh, Jungkook wants to be a professional swimmer, and now his girlfriend wants to do the same thing. How stupid does that sound?"

She shakes her head in disagreement, walking side by side with you along on the sidewalk, the sun slowly beginning to set whilst the wind makes its appearance again, sending chills down your spine. “Why does everything have to be about Jungkook? Why can’t it be about you for once? When you think of swimming, you think of Jungkook immediately, but why can’t you consider it being something you’re interested in?”

“Because Yura, I don’t know!” You exclaim, stopping in your tracks. It was hard, dreadfully hard making a decision that you weren’t sure of. You’re only in your teens, you think to yourself, at such a young age with the responsibility of making choices that may determine where your route is headed for the rest of your life. In all honesty, you want to cry; force yourself to shed all the tears even if you have to because the amount of pressure sitting on top of your shoulders was wearing you down.

You’re immensely grateful for the opportunity that just happened to land at your feet, but with a chance to do something big, you can’t help but feel that guilt eating you inside, wondering if this was truly what you wanted to do, and what if it wasn’t? Did it mean you took away the possibility of an experience from someone who yearned for it more than you did?

Yura ceases her steps, eyes meeting yours that were pools of pity. “It’s okay to not know. But you’re running out of time and have to pick what you want to do soon.”

“But Jungkook really wants me to do it.”

“Why do you care about what Jungkook thinks?”

Because Jungkook is the only person in my life whose opinions that I actually care about, is what you want to say to her, but it goes against all of the rules you’ve given yourself. You want to be independent, you want to be selfish in these moments that allowed you to, but at the end of the day, pleasing other people was a flaw you had never been able to grow out of.

“I don’t,” You lie, fiddling with the straps of your bag in between your nimble fingers. “I don’t care about what he thinks.”

She’s flabbergasted. “You absolutely do care. You care about what he thinks, and you’re afraid of disappointing him.” Yura says your name lovingly, in a tone that brings chills down your spine because she’s serious this time, a rarity in its form. “Please stop caring about what others think of you and make this decision on your own. There’s a chance that Jungkook won’t be with you at the end of this road, and you have to be prepared for it.”

“But it’s so freaking hard, Yura,” You finally admit, bending down to sit at the curb on the street. “I spent almost my entire life with Jungkook. My parents never approved of anything and weren’t ever happy with anything I did; he’s the one person who has supported anything I did and all I worry about is if he’s going to turn away like they did.”

“Did you just forget my existence again?” Yura interjects, sitting down beside you, giving you a slight nudge. “Listen, whether or not Jungkook decides to be by your side for this entire thing, I’m still here, right? It’s true, I can’t swoon you nor can I give you kisses because well, no offense, you’re not exactly my type—“ you snort, “—but I can be the friend portion here. You got me, you don’t need some boy you love, you have a friend.”

How crazy is it that you’re living in a fanfic trope? Your best friend from childhood is your neighbor, your first kiss, first time, first kiss... the list goes on.

So when you’re walking in the direction of where he stands in the parking lot of your high school, Jungkook’s car parked alongside his other teammates, while he leans against the hood of his car with the guys crowding around him. He looks like every other main character of a romantic film; hair slicked back, changed out of his uniform and swim clothes, now in a t-shirt that’s tight around his frame paired with light washed denim pants with tears and rips that hugs his thighs so deliciously. The laugh that escapes his lips is melodic, melting your heart seeing how happy he looks just by being with his friends.

You’re going to miss the hell out of this if he’s disappointed in your decision.

Approaching the group, the guys holler at the sight of you. “Hey! You’re finally here! Jungkook refuses to leave without you, so we’ve been waiting around until you came.”

“Were you?” You ask, eyes meeting your boyfriend. “Are you waiting for something in particular?”

Jungkook glances at the guys before back at you nervously, palms getting sweaty. “Uh... how do you feel about coming with us tonight?”

“Where to?”

Hoseok snorts from behind, almost bursting into laughter at how anxious Jungkook is around you. It’s cute, really, because despite officially together, he still acts as though he’s pining over his crush on you. “Oh, come on, it’s not hard to ask, just ask her!” Jimin adds into the push by actually pushing him.

Jungkook stumbles closer to you, slightly breathless. “So... there’s this party tonight...”

You giggle— mostly because he seems as smitten with you as you are with him. “Jeon, are you trying to ask me to be your date to a party or something? Why are you jittery?”

He is. And he can’t help but feel like his heart quickens whenever he sees you in a skirt and your hair down, first few buttons of your uniform unfastened and blazer hanging off your arm. Even in makeup that’s been on for 8 hours straight, he thinks you’re pretty. “Yeah,” his response is airy, “I’m hoping we could set aside a sleepover and head over to Hoseok’s place tonight to blow off some steam. How’s that sound?” Chuckling at his lack of confidence in the question, you nod in agreement. “Okay, that sounds great. When are we heading out?”

Getting ready for the party proves to be one of the most nerve-wreaking things you’ve done in a while, including that apprenticeship offer.

“Why why why are these jeans so tight?”

“This dress shows my belly rolls.”

You’re patting the fabric that’s wrinkled around your stomach region as you sigh when you see the sideview of your body in the mirror. “I should workout. Does Jungkook find this attractive?”

“And this skirt is too short. It shows my freaking underwear.” Bending over in the mirror to see yourself from behind, you grumble at the sight.

“Wait— turn over here, I want to see.”

“Holy—“ Flinching in the direction of the voice, you place a hand on your chest to ease your breathing; Jungkook sitting at his window sill, hair let loose, fresh from a wash, still dressed in his sweats. “You look cute in that. Twirl for me. Oh, and bend over too.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to bend over for you, Jeon.” He frowns. “Why not? I want to see what color your panties are.” Just when you’re ready to drop the blinds on him, he has his hand out. “Wait wait wait, don’t close it. Wear those jeans you wore the other day. And that black t-shirt. I think you look pretty even in casual clothes.”

While searching in your closet for said outfit, he stays seated by the window, resting his chin on his arm. “So... can we talk about break?”

“Uh, sure,” You respond, only half paying attention as you’re shuffling through the tremendous amount of clothes you have, the space between your brows crinkling in focus. “What about it?”

“So... the team and I had these plans to go on a lake trip...”

“Okay...?”

“And it’s an all guys trip.” He finishes, finally getting to the point. “I know we talked about the possibility of spending break together—“

“You should go, Bub.” You interrupt, eyes soon lighting up when you find the shirt, then meeting with his gaze. “I think it’ll be good for you. We’re not going to be in high school forever and you guys might separate when you get to college.”

Jungkook thinks he hit the jackpot with you. From your understanding nature, to your independence, support... all the qualities you had were stacked up on the pros pile for him. “You’ll be okay? Without me?”

He asks this question and it stings a bit. You know he doesn’t mean it in that way but you can’t help but think about it in that direction. There had been a lot of dependency on Jungkook throughout your friendship; hardship, accomplishments, direction of your dreams— he’d be there for all, guiding you and lifting you up. But did he think that you wouldn’t be able to be without him?

“I’ll be fine,” You reply, attempting to hide the disappointment in your voice. Head peeking out the window, you grin mischievously. “Well, I’m going to get ready now... so...” Quickly backing away, you shut the blinds immediately, and Jungkook groans. “I wanted to see a show!”

Arriving at the party with Jungkook by your side is more than an accessory— he’s the main point of an outfit. You learn that he wanted you to wear that t-shirt just because he wanted to match with you, knowing that you’d oppose it but would be too lazy to even change afterwards.

“You guys came!” Hoseok cries, weaving his way through the crowd of people while having to raise his voice for you to hear. He has a solo cup in hand, liquid sloshing around as people push and shove around him. “Go to the kitchen! Grab a drink!”

To two of you do, eventually Jungkook being pulled away by friends, chatting up a storm with his face slowly growing crimson from his asian flush. Deciding that it was a night to enjoy yourself, you play around with the ingredients from his fridge, cooking yourself up a mojito.

“Are you making a mojito? Can I join and make myself one too?”

“Sure,” You grin, looking up at the stranger. “Help yourself.”

This girl is absolutely gorgeous. Hair jet black and straight, stretching to her lower back with skin milky smooth and makeup done effortlessly naturally, with a body so slim and appealing in her body-con dress, a sight for sore eyes, you’re suddenly boiling inside because you’re wishing it was you. You learn her name is Somin, a University student who attended your high school last year, friends with the swim team but you never met her before.

“So, what brings you here?” She asks, searching through the drawers for a knife. “You don’t seem like the type to go to parties.”

Rinsing a couple limes under the faucet beside her, you nod. “Yeah, I’m not. Got dragged here so I guess I’m left with no choice. What about you? Trying to get away tonight?”

She laughs, so feminine and light. “Actually, trying to get closer. There’s a guy I’ve had my eyes on for the longest time. His mom and mine used to be friends so I saw me occasionally. I mentioned that I was in love with him and he freaked and left. But! I heard from Hoseok that he was coming tonight, so I’m hoping I get to see him.”

“Ah,” You respond, mouth open while taking the knife from her hands, slicing the lime into pieces. “Well, I wish you luck. I know how that feels.”

“Wait!” She exclaims, nudging you as you wince, startled and almost cutting yourself by her sudden action. “He’s coming!” Looking from the cutting board laying on the island counter, your eyes trail up to see the familiar figure walking toward the two of you as Somin waves eagerly. “Jungkook!”

She’s in love with Jungkook? When the hell did she know him?

“Oh, Somin!” He greets, smile so wide from the amount of alcohol in him. “I didn’t know you were here. I see you’ve met my girlfriend.” Well, how awkward. Somin turns to look at you, mouth agape, shunned. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah!” He’s almost yelling in your ear now, rounding the counter to pull you close with a hand on your waist. “The love of my life. Isn’t she so cute?” Your lips tug into a painful smile, apologetic toward Somin. How is it that every female you encounter just so happens to be so in love with Jeon Jungkook?

You can’t even blame them, in all honestly. He’s handsome, generous, has a car and can drive, a freaking athlete, and he can sing. This guy was the entire package and he hasn’t even graduated high school yet. Forget high school girls chasing after him, Jungkook already had college girls swooning and it’s left you wondering what it’d be like once the two of you head to University.

That night home, you drive. Deciding to spend the night taking care of him since he seemed totally wasted, you’re on route to his house while pondering deeply about the events of the night.

“What’s going on in your head, bubba?” Despite the amount of slurs that slip from his mouth that night, he’s oddly stable.

“Bubba?” You laugh at the new nickname. “Uh, just some stuff.”

“Be honest?” He asks, looking over at you with glassy eyes as his head is laid back against the seat. “I wanna hear what you’re thinking about. I like hearing you talk.”

Licking your lips, you’re having an inner debate on whether or not to let Jungkook in on your thoughts. Succumbing to his request, you sigh because communication is important in a relationship. On the bright side, he might forget about this conversation tomorrow anyways.

“The girl earlier tonight? Somin? She told me she was in love with you.”

“Huh?” He seems just as surprised at this new information. “That’s crazy. We used to hang out during Sundays when my mom would force me to go to church. Then I got old enough to decide if I wanted to go or not.”

You hum, stopping the car at the red light. “Well, it had me thinking. We’re going off to college soon. What does that mean for us? You’d have girls dropping at your feet, completely smitten with you. What if I end up at another college?”

“We’ll figure it out then. But I know how much I’m in love with you, whatever you do and wherever you go. I’ll be sad if I can’t follow you or you follow me to college, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Although he’s slow when he speaks, he finishes off what’s on his own mind before drifting off into slumber before you could even chime in a response.

A drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts.

It takes a lot of soul searching.

You’ve spent a week away from everyone— Yura, your family, everyone, even Jungkook. He thinks he did something wrong but you assure him that he hasn’t, rather that you needed some time for yourself. Coincidentally enough, that week was break; Jungkook and his teammates had a vacation planned and Yura picked up a part-time job at a bakery anyway.

Maybe it’s the breeze from the salty sea, the humidity sticking to your skin or the taste of the strawberry ice cream that hits your tongue, but the air feels lighter here. Inhaling in the fresh aroma the beach brings, it brings you back to when you came here last time with Jungkook and he professes his love. It brings a smile that tugs on the edges of your lips, a memory that you would never forget, your first love reciprocating his feelings for you.

“Oh, did you drop this?”

Quickly turning, you realize that what was in the hands of the person in front of you is your wallet—how irresponsible do you have to be that you dropped your wallet and didn’t even notice? “Oh my gosh, fuck, it’s my wallet!” You call out, grabbing it from their grasp before meeting eyes with them. “Thank you, I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t find it!”

The person waves you off, a grin drawn across the face of a male, cheeks so supple and milky smooth. “Think nothing of it. Be careful though, there’s a lot of pickpocketers around here.”

You nod in agreement, lips pressed in a straight line, slightly disappointed in yourself. It’s like he reads your mind because he then says, “It’s okay though. It happens to the best of us.”

“Can I at least get you something for not robbing me? And my fate being that you so happen to not be a pickpocketer?”

The guy laughs; something about the warmness he radiates makes you trust him, fraternizing with this stranger with qualities of a sweet friend. Something about Junmyeon makes you fearless, trusting him enough to propose the idea of treating him out to anything for being a good samaritan.

You learn that his name was Junmyeon, and he’s way older than you in comparison, but he has a lot of words of wisdom to share. After a lot of convincing, Junmyeon takes your offer for a cup of coffee—iced please, he begs, and in exchange, he in addition, tells you about his life like a middle-aged man.

He’s only 29.

“You’ve got a couple years ahead of me,” You begin, and it only sparks Junmyeon to raise a brow at you questioningly. “I’m stuck in a dilemma. How did you know what you wanted to do in life?”

Junmyeon chortles, mostly because he finds it interesting that you seem to think he has his shit together. The both of you had decided to take your cool drinks out on one of the benches on the boardwalk that faces the water. “You realize that I’m just twenty-nine right, not ninety-two?” You blink in confusion at his light-hearted joke, watching the sunset behind him. He continues on, “It means that I’m not that old, kiddo. I’m a bit older than you. And despite what you think, I don’t have my shit together.”

“Well, what did you do?”

“Well,” He starts, imitating your own words against you, “for one, I graduated college at the age of twenty-three. With a degree I didn’t end up using, by the way, and decided that the best thing for me at the time was to follow this girl that I was head over heels with. That being said, it didn’t end very well. Fast forward to today, I’m back in school trying to get my PhD... in a completely different field than what you’d expect.” Reminiscing back to his past mistakes, he shakes his head in disbelief. “There are just things you should be selfish about, and it took me a while to finally get that.”

“How did you decide on those things? And how do I decide what I want to do?”

“Well, for one, if you’re really hesitant about it, you probably don’t want it.”

And that’s when it hits.

A day at the beach alone, meeting a stranger who finds your wallet and gifts you words of advice was more of a helpful trip than expected.

“You... got really tan?”

“You can be honest. I know I’m more red than tan.” You stifle a laugh, watching from his bed as Jungkook enters his room with his bags, waddling around to unpack his belongings from his trip. He’s in so much pain, and not to mention crimson red like he’s Santa’s suit, mostly from forgetting to put on sunscreen despite the many exchanged texts reminding him to remember to put on SPF. Turns out the entire team was burnt as well.

Browsing through a magazine that you found on his bedside table, you smile at the sight of your boyfriend wincing while sitting on the carpeted floor, attempting to unzip his duffle bag. “I didn’t know you were still shy seeing me. You’re all red and blushy.” You joke, leaning over to tap his nose, only for him to groan in agony. “Baby, I love seeing you, but I’m resenting asking you to come over.”

You gasp in feign surprise with a hand on your chest in exaggeration. “Jeon Jungkook, you couldn’t possibly mean that, could you?”

He throws a dirty t-shirt at you in hopes it lands on your face, and lucky for him, it shoots his target.. “Bullseye,” He says, content with his shot. “I worked out in that, just so you know.” Grimacing and tossing it back at him, he lets out a chuckle at your disgust. “That was horrible. It reeks.”

“Speaking of horrible, I couldn’t believe we didn’t spend the break together. I know it sucked without me. How was your week away?”

You roll your eyes, opening a drawer to drop the magazine back into it. “You’re the one who made plans, lover boy, with your group of other boys. But it was great, I think I learned a lot of things about myself.”

“That’s a step in the right direction. What’d you do in that time?”

Where to even start? Do you tell him about Junmyeon? What about the weather down the shore—humid and sticky, just how Jungkook likes it— or maybe that funnel cake you got to try that was so sweet and melted on the tip of your tongue? Or would that defeat the purpose and he’d be sad he missed out on that?

“I met someone,” is the words you manage to formulate out of your mouth, and the expression on his face is distorted in shock. “Oh— wait, not like that, I just met someone at the beach and they became a friend.”

“Scare a guy to the point of breaking his heart, why don’t you?” He’s stopped to listen to you in the midst of packing, attention fully yours. “So, what about this friend?”

Leaning against the bed frame, you take a moment to let your mind sink into your thoughts. There’s a lot to unpack, more than what’s in Jungkook’s duffle bag that’s similar to a clown car, but you want to do this right. “He gave me some life advice. He’s a bit older and gave me some guidance that could help me on what next steps I should be taking.”

“Does that mean you’re ready to make a decision?”

You chew on your bottom lip. In the end, you know that whatever you choose is solely based on your happiness but you can’t help but worry about what Jungkook thinks. “I think I am. What do you think I should do?” Maybe you should test the waters first.

He wrinkles his brows in perplexity. “What do you mean?”

You shrug at this question. “What do you think I should choose?”

Jungkook stops pulling things from his bag, eyes locking with yours and you feel your chest tighten at the serious shift in the atmosphere. “You’re not really asking me this, are you?” Now you’re the confused one. “What?”

“I don’t care what you choose. I mean, I care, but I don’t care as in I won’t be upset if you rather do one thing over the other. Is this what’s bothering you? Do you feel guilty about all of this? I told you, I’m always here for you, even when I’m trying to drill that into your head it seems like you don’t get it.”

“So...”

“So if you said that you didn’t want the apprenticeship, I wouldn’t be opposed to you going another route. Vice versa, same result. We’ve been together our entire lives, it would take a lot for me to actually upset with you. I just need you to be honest.”

Your heart swells. If anything, that’s all you really wanted— his support.

Sitting in the seat that you presumed that Jungkook had sat in when he’d gotten his offer, you feel slightly uneasy finding yourself in this situation. The room is filled with cases of books, most that you’ve never heard or seen before; the unfamiliarity churning a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. There’s even a fireplace in this office, a portrait of what seems to be one of the founders of the university that hangs over it, and a fuzzy... bear rug that lays in front of it.

The recruiter closes the door behind her, striding to her desk before settling down in her large swivel chair that only seems to make her look even more powerful than she was already.

“So,” She begins, straightening the pile of papers on her desk. “You’re here to talk about the offer?”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #gyukultfics #highschool!au #bts high school au #f2l #jeon jungkook

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kerikaaria · 3 years

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 41

(Taehyung X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Angst, but lots of fluff

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42

You had never seen Jin so angry. The look on his face was almost enough to make you feel absolutely terrified, even if you knew that anger wasn’t directed at you.

There was no getting past being honest with Jin after he already heard so much. So Yoongi had grabbed his arm and hurriedly dragged him into the stairwell before attempting to calm him down and explain what he had heard.

But there was apparently no calming him down.

“And you guys felt like this wasn’t important information to share?” Seokjin asked.

“We thought it was better if less people knew about it,” Taehyung replied. “There’s nothing we can do at this point, and Bang PD already told noona that he’s going to let her finish healing without anything else being asked of her.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong,” Seokjin agitatedly replied. “Are you just letting it slide? Not going to do anything about it?”

“If you heard about that, then didn’t you hear what I told noona?” Yoongi asked, meeting Jin’s intensity.

“I heard Y/n saying about the article’s release being intentional and done behind her back,” Jin answered. “I wasn’t close enough to make out anything before that. But frankly, I don’t care what you said, Yoongi. Something should be done about it!”

“First of all, would you just- please calm down,” Yoongi said, attempting to do the same for himself. “Don’t go waking the whole building. And you should care about what I said before that. What do you want us to do, hyung? Barge into Bang’s office, tell him how much of an injustice it was, and demand he compensate her?”

“Sure, that sounds like a great start,” Jin said, still obviously very agitated, but his voice at a reasonable volume.

“Okay, then what?” Yoongi asked. “Do you think he’s going to just admit it? Do you think there is no chance whatsoever of it affecting noona’s job? Or our own? Do you really want to risk everything you’ve worked for for years, and risk making noona losing her job, make her have to move back home? While she’s still healing?”

“He can’t just do stuff like that, though!” Jin replied incredulously.

“He’s a businessman, Jin,” you said. “He saw an opportunity to better your guys’ image and popularity and he took it.”

Your friend turned to you and furrowed his brows. “You’re not telling me right now that you’re okay with him just- just using you like that, are you?”

“Of course I’m not!” you whisper yelled, making the boys around you flinch. “It is constantly bothering me. He called me earlier today, and I felt so awkward I had no idea how to talk to him. He apologized for asking me to go to the airport to pick you guys up, but I wanted so badly for him to come clean and apologize about the article instead. I can’t tell you how much I want to just wheel right into his office and demand that he tell me what he did and why he did it, even if I already know. I want to hear it straight from his mouth, and I want him to tell me he knows he did something wrong and say he’ll never do it again. But it’s not going to happen, Jin. It’s just not.”

Letting all of the anger you’ve felt over the situation out in your rant made you feel breathless. The others remained quiet for a moment, probably unsure of how to respond to something like that.

“Yoongi is right,” you said. “It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have done it. I’m getting more attention than I ever asked for and it’s nerve-wracking being this much in the public eye. But what good will it do to ask for an apology? It will make him aware that I know what he did, and probably wonder who else knows. I have no idea if I’d get fired, if he’ll do something to make sure that I can’t tell anyone. And I’m scared of how it could affect you guys. I needed to talk to Tae and Yoongi today because I just had a lot of emotions and wanted to confront him, but knew it wasn’t a good idea and they helped reason that with me.”

Jin chewed on the inside of his cheek while he calmed himself down. “I’m still not okay with this.”

“Neither am I,” you admitted. “But what else can we do, really? Other than hope that he decides to come clean about it on his own.”

“Hyung, please promise you won’t do anything,” Tae pleaded in a small voice. “I really wish I could too, believe me. But I just don’t think this is one of those things we can fight.”

Seokjin didn’t look any of you in the eyes while he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m sorry for exploding like that, I just-” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

“I know, hyung,” Yoongi said, placing a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “I felt the same when I found out. I understand.”

“Now I get why he’s acting so apologetic, though,” Seokjin said. “When he gave us permission to take a long break to take you out of the house, he just seemed odd. I couldn’t place what it was, but it was almost like he felt guilty. Which I guess could be explained by the airport, but it felt like more than that.”

“I mean, being attacked by a couple of sasaengs does make one afraid to leave the house when they’re so defenseless,” you said, laughing a little. “If I could stand on my feet and run away, that’s one thing, but I’m literally at others’ mercy like this.”

“That’s why you have us to protect you,” Tae said, smiling widely at you.

You smiled back, feeling more at ease now that you were all on the same page.

“Alright, let’s get back before someone else gets curious and eavesdrops,” Yoongi said, sending Jin a teasing look.

It was Jin who took you back to your apartment, helping you into bed. Nobody really argued when he silently decided he’d do it, figuring it would help him feel better to help you in the ways that he at least knew he could.

“I seriously can’t wait until you can start walking again,” he said as he helped you gather your covers and tuck in. “Not that it’s a burden to help you, but just because I know how frustrating it is for you.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, you and me both.”

Jin suddenly looked serious as he sat on the edge of your bed. “Y/n, you know you can always come to me for anything, right? If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

You smiled at him. “I know Jin. I promise I will. If I need to talk or just need some company or something, you’re the first person I’d go to.”

“You really are like family, you know?” he said. “It’s not just me. But you really are like a sister to me. So I want to be a good brother to you.”

“You are, Jin. I treasure your friendship. And I love being a part of this family. I would never trade any of you guys for anything.”

“Even if it meant you’d instantly be rich?”

“Absolutely,” you didn’t hesitate to answer. “I’d pick living a poor and hard life if it meant that I had the seven of you with me. I’d even be willing to be stuck in a wheelchair for life.”

Jin laughed quietly. “Well, we’re for sure going to try to not let any of that happen. But thank you, I’m sure we all feel the same.”

He gave your hand a squeeze as he leaned in to kiss your forehead before getting up and you one last ‘good night’ while he left.

You really did have such a wonderful family here.

By now it had been about two months since your injury. It could take up to six for your legs to fully heal, and with you staying entirely off your feet the hope was that you’d heal more quickly than that.

Two days after that night in the stairwell, Mrs. Kim attended your doctor appointment with you. She was really sweet and you couldn’t have been more grateful for her wanting to keep you company during this short time. It was especially a relief having someone with you when you visited the doctor. Not that you were scared of hospitals or anything, but you often had trouble remembering to ask questions and just nodded along to what the doctor told you. So someone else being there who could remember to do so was a huge help.

After an x-ray of your legs to see how the bones were healing, your doctor informed you that the healing process was going well. It would still be a little while before he recommended anything like walking, but they were at least healed enough that putting some weight on them shouldn’t have been bothersome.

To test it out, he asked you to place your feet on the floor and put a small amount of pressure on them and told you to immediately stop if you felt any pain. You found that it didn’t really hurt with just a bit of weight, but it did feel weird to do so for the first time in so long.

With the confirmation that it didn’t cause any pain, he told you that you were able to assist when people helped you in and out of your chair now. They still had to hold the majority of your weight, but walking lightly to help make it easier on them was no problem.

It was small progress, but it made you feel happy and excited, nonetheless.

After the doctor appointment, you decided you wanted to go back to the office first and let Bang and hopefully the boys know the news.

You felt nervous since this would be your first time seeing him in person since you learned about the article, at least if he was available to see you. But you felt it was important that he knew any progress in your condition and it wasn’t like you could avoid him forever. You had to see him at some point, so might as well rip the band-aid off now.

Your boss ended up not being at his office, and a quick message to Sejin let you know that the boys were practicing choreography for the concert so you headed toward the practice room in the meantime. You waited outside with Mrs. Kim, watching through the window as they practiced for Boyz With Fun. The choreography for the song was more lighthearted and didn’t need to be precise since the song was mostly for fun, but it was still very high energy.

When the song ended and didn’t restart right away, Taehyung’s mother knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to intrude without permission. It was Hoseok who came to open it, smiling brightly despite looking exhausted. “Hello eomeoni, noona. What are you guys doing here?”

“We wanted to stop and say hi,” you said. “We just came from my doctor appointment.”

“Oh, that’s right! That was today!” Hoseok sounded excited. “You can come in. We’re due for a break anyway.”

He opened the door wide, holding it while you wheeled through after Tae’s mom.

“You had your appointment today?” Namjoon asked from his spot on the floor through ragged breaths. “How’d it go?”

“My legs are healing well,” you said with a smile. “He said I can put a little bit of pressure on my feet now.”

“Really?!” Jimin asked, sitting up straight after having been laying flat on the floor.

You nodded. “No walking or anything yet, but he said I can put some weight on them to help when you guys are moving me in and out of the chair.”

“That’s great!” Tae said, smiling widely as your eyes met his. “That’s huge progress. That means your bones are healing really well.”

You smiled softly, feeling your heart skip a beat. It felt silly, but everyone seemed so enthusiastic and made it seem like it was such a big deal when it was really only just a small amount of progress.

That, and how are you supposed to not feel affected when Taehyung was staring at you like that.

“Yes, the doctor said she’s healing really well,” Mrs. Kim said. “He said she’s healing faster than they expected, almost as fast as they hoped she would. He expects it to be no more than two months, if that, until she’s able to start getting back on her feet.”

“And then you’ll be able to resume being our manager,” Jungkook said.

“Well, after I can walk again, yeah,” you said. “I can already feel how weak my legs are. They’re going to need a good amount of physical therapy before I can walk entirely unassisted.”

“But that’s still so much closer than it could have been,” Namjoon smartly added. “With how bad that fracture was, the doctor said it could have taken up to six months. But since you’ve been really good about resting your legs, I guess that helps a whole lot, huh?”

You nodded. “That’s what he said. He said he could tell that I’d been following his instructions to not put any pressure or weight on them.”

“How much longer are you boys practicing?” Mrs. Kim asked.

“Probably another hour,” Hoseok said. “We have a few things to refine, but we made a deal that if we can do the choreography with no mistakes for five runs in a row then we can go home early. I think we can do it.”

“Well, I guess I’d better go get dinner ready then, hm?” she responded. “I want to make something a little special today since we got the good news from the doctor.”

“It’s really no big deal, eomeoni,” you insisted.

“Nonsense! Every step is progress, and that’s something to celebrate.”

“I still need to let Bang know,” you said. “I might need to just call or text him to tell him.”

You could see Jin’s head turning to you out of the corner of your eye at the mention of your boss’ name. “We can tell him for you if you want,” he said.

“It’s fine.” You smiled in his direction. “I can talk to him.”

Jin took a moment to think before nodding, clearly understanding what you meant. You were okay with talking to him despite the fact that you still hadn’t quite gotten over what happened.

“Do you want to stay, noona?” Taehyung asked hesitantly. “I know you used to like to watch us practice. You could stay and go home with us?”

You turned toward his mother, about to ask her what she thought before she beat you to answering.

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” she said, smiling. “You have been wanting to get out of the house more anyway. Do you want to stay?”

“That would be nice,” you didn’t hesitate to answer. Seeing Tae’s boxy smile break out on his face at your response most certainly didn’t make your heart skip again. Not at all.

“Alright, I’ll see you back at your apartment in a little while then,” Mrs. Kim said before turning toward the door. “Take good care of her, boys!”

When she left, you wheeled yourself to the front of the room, as close to the corner as you could so you wouldn’t be in the way of their reflection.

“Do you want to sit on the floor?” Taehyung asked. “We can use our jackets to make a little seat for you, it might be more comfortable than your chair.”

You thought about it for a moment, realizing that that would help keep you more out of the way for them since your chair could be folded up as well. “If it’s not too much trouble, then sure. It’ll keep me from blocking your guys’ reflection, too.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he backtracked, flailing his hands around a bit.

“Whatever is more comfortable for you is more important,” Namjoon chimed in. “You’re not in the way, not at all. But if you’d prefer to sit on the floor, then it’s no trouble for us.”

You smiled at their thoughtfulness. “I know that’s not why you asked, Tae. It’s okay, it was just my own concern. But yeah, if you don’t mind I would definitely like to spend some time out of this chair.’”

“Absolutely,” Jin answered, smiling reassuringly. Everyone jumped into action, grabbing their spare jackets to pile into the corner.

You wheeled yourself away so they could work and turned to look at what they were doing. A smile slowly spread across your face as you watched them quietly discuss how to set everything out so that it was the smoothest and most comfortable they could make it.

It made your heart swell, the amount of thought and care they put into such a small task. You really didn’t know what you would do without them.

After almost everyone sat on the little pile of clothes, testing to make sure that it was comfortable enough (It was only supposed to be Jimin, but then a few of the others decided they wanted to make sure themselves, which of course made you laugh), they dispersed and you approached the makeshift seat. You locked your wheels, Taehyung approaching to help you get out. Scooching forward as usual, you internally reminded yourself that it was okay to put some weight on your feet to help him out. Especially since you were being moved to the floor, it would require a bit more maneuvering than the usual chair-to-bed or vice versa.

But when Taehyung reached out for you, he wasn’t standing in front of you and with both arms reaching underneath your arms. He instead was a little to the side, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as the other looped underneath your knees. Just as you were opening your mouth to ask what he was doing, he lifted you with ease, hands reflexively linking behind his neck to keep yourself steady.

Before you could even blink you were being held princess style, which most definitely wasn’t the standard way of picking someone up out of a wheelchair. You had to resist the urge to tuck your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment, brain working well enough to notice that that would only make things worse.

“What are you doing?” you finally managed to ask as he knelt down next to the clothing pile to set you down. “Why’d you pick me up like that?”

“It was easier,” he answered. “Less shuffling and easier to get you sitting down.”

It felt like forever before you were finally sitting on the floor, even though it must have must have been no more than ten seconds. Once he pulled away you found yourself feeling simultaneously relieved and disappointed at the loss of his warmth.

Looking up at the others, you caught the knowing smirk and raised eyebrows on Jin’s face. You felt a sudden urge to smack the expression off of him, but of course you couldn’t exactly get up and walk.

“Comfy?” Hoseok asked, giving some of the material around you another fluff for good measure.

“Yes, it’s nice and soft. Thank you,” you said.

“Good,” he responded. “Alright, let’s get her chair folded up and get back to practice, guys!”

It was really nice to watch them practice again. It felt so normal, you could almost forget that your injury ever happened and like you were still working with your boys almost every day.

At one point, when they had just a moment in between runs through the choreography, Jimin captured a selfie of the two of you. He sent it to Sejin with what he wanted to caption it with to get it approved before saving to post on Twitter later.

It ended up being closer to two hours, rather than the one that Hobi projected, before they were perfect enough to head home early. Luckily, you weren’t picked up so intimately this time as you were helped back into your chair by Yoongi. He said he wanted to let you practice and get used to letting your feet rest on the floor and help do some of the work.

You appreciated your heart being saved from anymore palpitations today.

Even on the walk home, you felt so refreshed at even the smallest return to normalcy that you didn’t care about Jungkook wanting to push your chair for you when you’d usually insist on wheeling yourself.

Mrs. Kim’s delicious homemade dinner filled with laughter and the company of your closest friends warmed your heart even more, so by the time you got around to texting your boss if he was available and calling him when he responded, you didn’t feel even the slightest pit in your stomach as you had the previous day.

You still had quite a while to go, but everyone was right. You were making progress and despite how small, it was reason enough to be excited and celebrate. It was enough to help keep you going as you waited for the day that you could walk again, at least for now. Nothing was perfect and there were certainly more things that you needed to personally work through, but it was the little steps to be celebrated that would help you climb your way there.

After laying down for the night, you got the notification that BTS tweeted. You clicked to see a sweet but short message about how you heard good news from the doctor today, and how excited they were to have you cheering on their practice.

You fell asleep with a smile on your face and dreamt of your head pressed against a warm chest while strong arms carried you.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @rjsmochii @overtherainbow35 @leesalts @whobuiltthemoon @bethebitchuare @shookysxga @jeneate101

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :)

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

Calling It Even

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You just moved 'across the pond' from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts, but before you actually moved you'd made a friend! Well, two and you just so happen to bump into them at the Leaky Couldren!

Warnings: Swearing, Slightly Suggestive (Ron's raging hormones™).

Note: Hi! This is my first time writing and posting a fic in a few years, so I'm sorry for spelling errors or stupid mistakes! It'll get better as I rewarm my.. Writing.. Muscles? Anyway, Thank you for reading! Let me now if this is good and enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Moving from the US to Britain was just as stressful as you figured it would be, but going from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts felt like an actual asteroid was thrown into your world. You had to leave behind your friends, close relatives and of course your home, then you had a whole new school to deal with on top of that. Different houses, different teachers, different classes and the rules. Merlin's beard, were the rules different. You can distinctly remember bombarding your guardian with question after question. You were still surprised you got to carry your wand around with you outside of school! Of course the actual moving process had taken its toll on your guardians, and they knew what it was doing to you. You were tired, emotionally, physically- Godric, did you need a break before school started.

You would be starting your fifth year when summer ended, and that was in a few weeks or so. This should’ve given you the time to gather up the books, potion supplies and robes needed, maybe even find some friends your age, but you had other plans, apparently. You had spent the entire summer huddled over their desk waiting for an owl to return with a response letter and avoiding the cluttered shopping strip. You didn’t wanna tackle getting lost and missing a response from your favorite redheads. Now, your headmaster at Ilvermorny had recommended you create a quill-pal at Hogwarts so it felt less chaotic when you arrived, but you ended up finding two that were the pure embodiment of chaos.

So, technically, you did end up making friends with the program, just not what you expected. Each letter was seemingly cut in half, one with orange ink, one with purple. In said response, you learned the orange was usually Fred and purple was usually Georges. In said letters, you learned they are two years older than you, live in what they call a ‘Burrow’ and owning their own shop was definitely wrapped in their future. You spent a solid year getting to know the Infamously Famous,Charming and Totally Destructive personality of the Weasley Twins. Honestly, you seriously looked forward to seeing them in person, even if it was their last year. You three managed to get along like you’d known each other their entire lives. Best part is they promised to find you on the first day and show you around!

You remember Fred mentioning their roles on the Quidditch team and George saying something about pranks with fireworks and you knew. Oh, you knew the three of you would cause chaos and you were so excited. The red-headed duo also promised they’d introduce you to their friends and their extensive family. Fred had brought up having a younger brother your age and judging from the cluttered moving photo they sent you, he was awkward but in the best way. You managed to remember the names of the red-headed family members only because of the scribbled writing on said photo pointing out who was who. But for whatever reason, the youngest Weasley son always manages to be the first one you notice yourself staring at. He was genuinely really cute. Blue eyes, freckles, red hair, absolutely adorable- Ok. So you may have a crush on him without even knowing him but you can not blame yourself. The twins told you stories about the younger redhead and he only got cuter as time went on, but I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?

Currently, you are walking down Diagon Alley. Not only did you need a break from unpacking, sorting and waiting for the Weasley's owl to return, but you also needed to restock on quills. Yup. Of all things, quills. (P/n) has this terrible chewing habit and adores the flavor of quills, or so you guess. You loved the rascal to bits, but damn, they ate the feathers like they drank water. Your guardian said they would finish unpacking the very few boxes your family were collectively avoiding while you went shopping down the popular alley. Oh! And speaking of water, you glanced up from the cobblestone pathway and noted the Leaky Cauldron sign hanging a few shops down. You’d heard stories of how comfortable the atmosphere of the little restaurant had been from the Weasleys and you couldn’t help but overhear wizards and witches around you chatting it up about possibly getting a butterbeer. You decided, why not? Could spare a few coins to buy the golden drink or maybe just a water. It was, like, 90 degrees outside and the cluttered path way didn’t help the soft summer breeze flow through at all.

You gently nudged your way through the bustling crowd of wizards and witches and pushed open the creaky old door. The smell of sweetness and smoke hit your noise as you stepped in, your eyes briefly wandering over the crowd, looking for an empty table. Once you spotted a table for two in the corner, you gently shuffled past crowded tables and rushed waiters apologizing as you went by. Finally sitting down at the small table, you let out a relieved sigh, not noticing a set of eyes following your every movement. Your eyes easily wandered around the shop but landed on piercing blue across the small restaurant. You immediately snapped your gaze to the fire pit and walls, choosing to avoid the gaze until a server walked over. You were tracing the gray, worn down bricks of the wall right next to you when an older woman in a simple uniform walked over the table.

“Good evenin, love. What can I get you?” she casted a bright smile your way, her hands in the small pocket of her apron as she waited for a response.

“Just a butterbeer, please.” You managed to stutter out, sending her a shy smile back. She nodded her head and headed off to another table after putting in your order.

Once she left, your eyes met a set of blue eyes once again. The longer you looked, the more you thought they were formilair, but you turned away, choosing not to dwell on anything besides the table that was placed in front of you. You were so busy tracing the grooves in the old wooden table, you didn’t notice the owner of the blue eyes nudge the red-head next to him and point in your direction. What finally brought you out of the tracing trance was a glass mug filled with liquid golden and soft foam slide toward you, followed by the sound of chairs scraping the old wooden floor and a distinct female voice calling out “where are you two going now?” Your hands wrapped around the glass and just before you could bring it to your lips, two people moving toward the table got your attention. You turned to look up and almost choked on air, your chest shaking as you coughed causing your mug to nearly empty all over the table. You didn’t even have time to fully register who was advancing closer because the warm drink was flowing off the table and onto your new shirt.

“Shit-!” You grumbled down at the spilt mess. Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you placed the mug down hoping to save what was left in it as you grabbed napkins.

“Now, I knew we shocked people, but I had no idea we had this kind of effect, Georgie.” Fred spoke and took up the seat across from you, causing his twin to let out a snort. Your head shot up at the sound of the British accent. He'd managed to effectively put a stop to you drying up the mess with one sentence. Fred grabbed a few to help wipe down the table, but was far more focused on your reaction. Your eyes snapped over to George as he leaned on the back of his brother's chair and flickered between the two freckle covered idiots. You made a mental note of who was who.

“Do you always sneak up on your victims or do you introduce yourselves like normal people?” You scoffed out, a smile growing on your face as you awkwardly piled up the useless napkins.

“We only sneak up on people we’ve been friends with for years and finally get to meet.” George spoke, sass laced in his voice.

“Oh please. It’s been like 1 year.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for your cup again and taking a small sip.

“And I don’t think we got an anniversary gift from you, love. I believe you owe us an apology. Missing our 1 year anniversary like that.” Fred spoke, a hand going to his chest in fake shock as George just tsked and shook his head responding with his own ”Shame, really.”

You let out your own soft laugh and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I'm sorry.” You spoke setting your glass down again, sarcasm dripping from you as you crossed your arms over the table and leaned forward. “I didn’t realize I got something from you two for our ‘one year anniversary’.” You used air quotes, outlining the obvious.

“Godric, it’s so good to meet someone who finally matches our sass level.” Fred smiled at you. “But how did you not see us?” he used his thumb to point at a table behind him, almost taking out George's eye.

“Oi. Watch it.” the ever so slightly younger twin shoved the hand in his face away.

“Well, obviously, I didn’t expect you to run into you guys here.” You spoke, finishing the little amount of what was left of the butterbeer. After wiping your mouth on your sleeve, you shot the two a playful glare. “You owe me a drink.”

“Or you can meet Ickle Ronniekins and we can call it even.”

“That doesn’t even come close to equal.” You whined, sitting back in your chair, your head hitting the wall behind you a little too sharply. As much as you wanted to meet the younger bro, you were nervous. You may have let it slip out to the brothers that you desperately wanted to get to know Ron, but what if he didn't like you?

It didn't matter what you thought. You didn’t have a choice because the two may or may not have shipped you two, but that’s for them to know and for you to never, ever, ever find out. The twins let out a laugh at your demise and both stood up, one grabbing the empty mug and the other practically dragging you out of your cozy corner.

“I say it’s fair.” George spoke, following the older redhead who was almost quit literally dragging you by the arm. The two idiots led you to a table in the middle, where it was borderline empty besides 3 people sitting, all chatting to themselves. The chatting came to a stop when George set your mug down in the middle and Fred forced you to sit across from another redhead, who you quickly recognized.

“Um, Fred..” The witch next to Ron spoke up just as Fred sat to your left and George to your right. “Who is this?”

“This, Granger, is our quill-pal, (Y/n). He comes from America and just transferred over. Good old quill-pal (Y/n), meet Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and our own little Ickle Ronniekins.” Fred pointed to each witch and wizard, pointing them out so you could put names to faces. The nickname caused Ron to groan out a ‘shod off, Fred’, to which the older brother just snickered.

“Oh, hi! I’ve heard alot about you guys.” You smiled, casting them a small wave. Your accent, to them, was very interesting. It was so different from what they were used to, which definitely wasn’t a bad thing. They actually thought it fit you really well.

“Well, (y/n), it’s great to meet you.” Harry spoke up, a smile replacing the confused expression he once held. He was just relieved you weren’t asking for an autograph or constantly shaking his hand. It was refreshing.

“Likewise!” You flashed a smile to the messy raven haired dude before stretching back in your chair, head turning, trying to avoid the twins in his view to find a waitress. You gave up on searching when the twins purposefully blocked your view and Ron cleared his throat.

“Wait.. This is (y/n)? The bloak you guys don’t shut up about?” Ron pointed at you, almost as if accusing you of causing him pain. The twins nodded their heads, in sync, while landing a kick to both of his legs. “Ow-! I'm just asking!” he rubbed his bruised shins and rested his chin on the table so he could shoot them a glare. “Arse holes.” He grumbled. The twins gave him a sort of look that meant ‘shut up or we will not hesitate to strike again’ and honestly, Ron felt a tiny bit of fear enter his soul and his glare dropped.

“Aww! Did you two really mention me that much? I’m flattered, boys!” A confident smirk stretched across your face as the twins blushed ever so slightly, George a little redder than Fred.

“No.” They countered.

“Yes.” Ron groaned out, wanting revenge for the kicks. ”Merlin. They’d go on and on about how cool you were. ‘Ma, he said he plays Quidditch, too! Can we get the booms out?’, ‘His favorite color is (f/c) and his favorite animal is (f/a)! We should work on (f/c) (f/a) fireworks for him!’. My family officially knows more about you than I know about the Chudley Cannons.” He ran his right hand through his hair and his left waved around as he spoke. You couldn’t help but snicker. “It’s been actual hell. I’m just glad you're here so they can shut up.”

Harry nudged his best friend in the side before speaking. “Hey, be nice, This is probably their first crush!” The comment caused Hermione to almost snort butterbeer, Ron let out a very loud laugh and you to high five Harry meanwhile the twins turned redder than their quidditch uniforms.

“Oi, Potter. I will burn your broomstick.” Fred threatened, pointing at the boy who lived.

“Aw come on Freddie, be nice. It isn’t their fault you gave them the material for this. Relax, bud.” You shoved his hand away.

George took your mug and slid it out of your reach and to the end of the table. “Well, we were gonna buy you another drink, but since you're being an arse, you're not getting a sickle from us.” George turned to you and stuck out his tongue.

The simple banter continued as the 6 of you sat in front of the simple fireplace, laughter filling the little stone eatery. You had known the group in person for about 15 minutes and you already fit in like a puzzle piece. After a few more butter beers and another 15 minutes later, the 6 of you had decided to go on the hunt for some goodies, so you all paid for the drinks and led the cluttered restaurant. Fred and George started off leading the group, but got sidetracked at Zonko’s. Hermione had practically dragged Harry off into Flourish and Blotts when he mentioned not having his school supplies. That left you and Ron alone to get to know eachother better.

“So, what’s Ilvermorny like?” He asked, his hands in his pockets as he walked beside you.

“Well.. " you hesitated."Definitely different, if what Fred and George said was true. We don’t have a sorting hat, instead statues would pick who they want. It’s a whole history thing. Everyone's robes are blue and this reddish color, so i'm excited for a change! And jeez, the wand rules. They're, at least, 10 times stricter than here. I had to get sorted before I could even hold a wand and Ilvermony students can’t legally have wands until their 17. Bullshit if you ask me.” You scoffed. “I was put in Wampus. I guess that's a cool thing.” This caused Ron to let out a snort and a cackling laugh.

“I’m sorry- you got put in what??” He turned to you, a huge smile on his lips.

“A-A wampus?” You spoke, hoping he’d ignore the stutter. You ended up staring at his smiling face, making a promise to make him laugh whenever it was physically possible. It was so perfect.

“Aaaanndd that is what, exactly?” The redhead's smile turned into a small smirk as he responded. “Is it like- like a creature or a plant? It sounds like a plant-”

“How on earth does Wampus sound like a plant??” You looked at him with a confused expression. Your arm shot out to punch his bicep lightly. “Of course it’s a creature, Ronald!”

You went on to explain all about what a wampus was, however, Ron was no longer listening. He was slowly drifting toward the quidditch shop, his jaw practically on the floor. He pressed his freckled covered hands to the glass window of the shop.

“You really must be yanking my wand! Do you see this?!” The redhead was drooling over a brand new broom. The little plastic sign next to the window model read ‘Firebolt Y.5’

“Oh my go-Is that-” You stood next to him, a look of shock. “How did I walk past this shop and NOT see this??” You grabbed his arm and whisked him away from the window, bringing him into the shop. Quidditch, of course, was your favorite sport. You were even on the Wampus quidditch team! You played a seeker and you loved to believe you were the best! “Oh my god, yes. If I had this across the pond” you spoke while pointing at the brooms hanging on the walls, "I'd be the best damn seeker in Ilvermorny history!” You all but squealed out.

While you were ranting about the possibilities of owning this bad boy, Ron was noticing something. He was noticing, since you grabbed his arm, he wanted to hold your hand. He was noticing how your eyes lit up while you were talking about destroying other teams on the fields and how big your smile was and how cute- Cute. Cute?

Wait.

Hold on. Cute? You? He thought he thought Hermione was cute? But now, now it was you. You suddenly clouded his mind and he'd only know you for less than an hour? He blamed his hormones.. Or maybe it was the way your eyes were sparkling so much more when compared to the photo you sent his brothers. Or your stupid perfect hair was so perfect even if it was a mess from constantly running your fingers through it. Every freckle, every mole, every dimple on your skin, he wanted to memorize it all. Suddenly, you turned to him, the smile wider than before. Shit, you were waiting for a response, but he was too wrapped up in how perfect you were for him to think straight.

“WhUt?” His voice cracked as he basically shouted at you. His face turned pink with embarrassment, but it transformed into a color to rival the Gryffindor red he usually sported during the school year. The poor git basically melted into a puddle when he heard you let out a giggle.

“I was asking if you wanted to split the cost! Fred and George told me when Harry got his Firebolt, but I bet it’s nothing compared to this baby. We could split it!” You were basically jumping up and down.

Ron blinked a few times, his brain trying to process everything. “Split?”

“Yes, Ronnie. Split.” You giggled, wrapping your arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer to your side.

“Ronnie split.” He muttered without realizing it. “OH! Oh- The broom! Split the broom! Cost! Right!” he ran a hand through his hair, his entire face felt hot. Ron was sure his face was blending in with his red locks. “I-I can check! With Fred and George and- and we see?” He squeaked, noticing how close he was to you. He audibly gulped, his tongue poking out to lick his suddenly dry lips.

“Cool! We could all share it!” You reached into your pocket, pulling out all the coins nestled in your pocket. As you counted over the coins, the only words that stuck in Ron’s head were ‘we’ ‘share’ and he could basically hear sirens going off. You’d already gotten to know his older brothers. What if you already liked one? Or both? He didn’t even know if you were single.

“Ah- Well i'm sure we can just handle it. Just the two of us.” He clapped his hands together, choosing not to think of how much attention the noise brought him. You looked at him with a confused expression but let it be with a shrug.

“If you say so, Ronnie.” You smiled, shaking your head. You had no idea the redhead was avoiding the idea of his brothers sharing you instead of the broomstick.”Iiisss there a reason you don’t wanna share?” You asked as you shoved your hands in your pockets, putting the coins away. You missed Ron's face turning bright red as you gazed on at the Chudley Cannons merchandise hanging off the walls.

“I-I’m just sick of sharing with my siblings, y-ya know?” His voice cracked as he spoke, but he tried to cover it up with a cough. “Um.. I do have a lot of older brothers, so hand-me-downs are really all I get-”

“Oooh, right. Right. That’s fair.” you looked down at your feet. You forgot. Gerd and Feorge didn't throw it in your face, but they did mention when money got tight and how they planned on opening a joke shop and how they told their products to kids for extra cash. You should've remembered. You cleared your throat, your eyes darting to him, to the door back to him. Desperate for a way to change the atmosphere, you offered leaving the store. "Honeydukes?” you asked way too loudly in the small shop. ”Wanna.. Go to Honeydukes?" You cleared your throat into your hand. Ron couldn't have agreed fast enough.

The two of you walked out of the store, making small, awkward talk as you continued your stroll across the stoley path. When you came up to Honeydukes Ron, to your surprise, hurried to the door and held it open for you. As you walked in, he did a playful bow as if you were royalty. It brought a smile to your face and things fell into the rhythm from before.

"I'm not too keen on pumpkin pasties, but I do love chocolate frogs. When I was a kid, I dreamed of being put on one of the cards, but that kinda faded. I’m thinking maybe a famous quidditch player? Not quite sure yet." You rambled as Ron grabbed what someone might consider way too much of the chocolate treat. He would call that someone insane and double the batch. While he was literally filling his arms with the small boxes, you were busy looking at the candy wands, your mouth practically drooling at the idea of sweets. "We don't have a lot of this across the pond." you muttered to yourself as you reached across a table to grab a few different boxes of candy you've never tried before, one being Bertie Bott’s Everything Flavored Beans.

"Really? What are you used to?" Ron spoke up behind you, his eyes going from the candy resting in your hands to your forearm. The redhead found his eyes trailing up and landing on your bicep, causing his mind to wonder and basically dive head first into the gutter.

"Well, we had candies like Skittling Soot Poppers. They're these dark chocolate little balls that pop in your mouth once the chocolate melts. It's so cool! If you put one in your mouth and keep it open, sparks will come out. All kinds of colors, too." you smiled, remembering staying up far too late into the night with your Wumpas housemates and munching away. "Oh! And these little cakes called Twinkles. They would glitter like gold in the moonlight, but turn silver in the sun. They always taste like vanilla and cream."

Ron gulped. We all know what he's thinking at this point. He'd love to try some cream, and not the filling of the Twinkles, if ya catch my drift. He blinked out of a fantasy and shook his head. Bad Ronald. He scolded himself, but was yeeted out of his head when he heard you laugh.

"What? What's so funny?" his head tilted like a confused puppy, one of the chocolate frogs falling from the top of the pile and landing with a soft thud. As you bent down to pick up the box for him, you answered his question.

"Nothing, you're just being cute." you set the chocolate frog box on top of his pile and began down the aisle way.

"W.. Wait, really?!"

His response brought a snort out of you. He sounded so excited it made your heart jump. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, Ronnie. Godric, even that was cute." You spoke as you turned the corner and headed down a new aisle. Your eyes scanned along the other treats laid out on the shelves while your hand grabbed a few sugar quills. “Ok, I think we got enough now. What do ya think?” You turned to where you thought he was, but your view lacked the pale freckled boy. “Ron?” Your voice carried through the store. “Ronnie?” You called out again as you went to the last aisle you saw him at. When your head popped around the corner you were met with a sight you thought was kodiak worthy.

There he was, bright red in the face, bright wide blue eyes standing out against his red skin, mouth hanging open and every chocolate frog box laying at his feet. You broke him. How the hell did he manage to get cuter?

“Ron?” Your legs moved without you even demanding them too and soon you stood in front of him. Has he even blinked? Is.. Is he ok? Shifting the candies in your arms, you managed to free a hand to gently close his mouth. “Hello? Are the lights on inside?”

“You said I was cute.” You were lucky you heard him over the crowded shop.

“Yes, Red.” You spoke, a giggle escaping your lips. “We established this already.” You shook your head, but it was halted when his blue eyes finally landed on your own, causing a heat to spread to your ears.

“Yeah.. But what KIND of cute?”

“Kind? What?”

“There are different kinds. Like am I cute like a crup or am I.. Am.. Like am I romantic-” He froze again when you leaned over and kissed his cheek, hopefully answering his question. You chose to ignore the grumpy customers trying to fit down the aisle and, instead, rested your hand on his hand. You would’ve held it but the stupid boxes of cursed choco frogos where in the way. “I hope that was ok.” You, also, chose to ignore his tiny, squeaky ‘bloody hell’ and dragged him to the counter.

“Ya know, when your brothers told me about you, I couldn’t get you out of my head.” You confessed, laying all the candy out on the counter and turned to him again. His blush had died down and he wasn’t as jumpy or frozen. Ron followed suit and dumped the boxes onto the counter and immediately whipped his hands on his jeans.

“I-I was glad I got to hear about you everyday.” He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at his shoes. “I um- I wanted to write, but uh, thought it would be weird.” He didn’t turn to look at you but his crystal blue eyes bounced between you, the candy and the glass counter in front of him. “A-and I’d love to get to know you more. And m.. Maybe do this again? Just you and me? Again?”

Your face almost split in two as you felt Ron’s hand brush against yours.. “I would absolutely adore to do this again, Ronnie.” He intertwined his fingers with yours, his blush coming back easily, causing you to let out a chuckle. While you did end up paying for most of the candy and forgetting about the quills, you managed to leave hand in hand with the red haired Chudley Cannon loving dork. Of course this caused the twins to tease you relentlessly about falling so hard for their baby brother. Hell, they even made a lame song, something about ‘Ronnie I love you’ and ‘when we’re apart my heart beats only for you’. It literally never stopped. In fact it got worse as time went on, especially when you were sorted into Gryffindor once school started.

Oh, but was so worth it.

#ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #male reader #fred and george #hp x male reader #hp imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #x male reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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jiminieloved · 4 years

Text

For the Osaka Vlive Skeptics :)

I highly recommend you watch the Vlive in real time as you read each section so you can see my observations for yourself. If you can’t do this, I will provide screenshots of the important moments.

Link to Vlive

1. Context

Around 4:13, after goofing around a little bit and singing a song for the audience, Tae admits that he has no idea what he wants to do during this Vlive, and asks the audience for ideas. At 4:50, he reads a comment that says “Attack the next door”, and he says “I don’t even know [the members’] room numbers.”

Tae proceeds to look on his phone and locate room numbers (perhaps there was some sort of document or text that had all of the room numbers for the members). Then, he sends a text to Jungkook informing him he is coming and immediately heads to his room.

The timing for all of this is extremely fast. He doesn’t even wait a second between texting Jungkook and leaving the room, so it’s safe to assume that Jungkook didn’t text back confirming it was okay for him to come. It explains Jungkook’s lack of preparedness and haste when opening the door. He clearly hadn’t seen the text on his phone. But let’s back up.

During the walk, it is clear that Tae goes to the room directly next to his own. He doesn’t pass a single set of doors on the way there. This will become important later.

2. Tae’s Entrance

At 6:14, Tae arrives at the door and music can be heard blasting from outside the room. The song playing is “Body Electric” by Lana del Rey. It’s... frankly... a sex playlist kind of song. If you don’t believe me, give it a listen.

youtube

After Tae knocks a couple times (6:14), Jungkook yells (very annoyedly) asking who it is. You can clearly hear him quietly say “Jimin” at 6:26. Turn up your volume if you can’t hear it.

It’s pretty undeniable that he says this, however if you don’t buy it... what would he be saying? He’s in the room alone, right? So who is he talking to? He’s clearly not talking to Tae, because he thought he had to yell to be heard over the blasting music, and he said “Jimin” in a regular speaking voice.

So.... we’ve established that he said Jimin’s name and is likely speaking to someone in the room. (We haven’t proven that it’s Jimin in the room with him yet, but just wait.)

So he’s... naked? Playing sex music? With someone likely in the room with him? Aight. Let’s continue. (Devil’s advocate: he was taking a shower? And he likes to say “Jimin” to calm himself down?)

As Tae talks to the audience, there’s more flustered exclamations and banging heard in the background. Why is Jungkook so freaked out? Taking a shower isn’t a crime!

Let’s take a moment to acknowledge how amused Tae is by all of this. It almost seems like he was expecting this... That’s just speculation, though.

Anyway, at 6:50, Jungkook finally opens the door (a full 35 seconds after Tae knocks) wearing a robe that is untied, and the music is still blasting. What took Jungkook so long? He had plenty of time to tie the robe before opening the door, but for some reason he didn’t. He clearly wasn’t using that time to pause the music. What was he doing? There’s many valid explanations for this. Let’s move on.

So... Tae walks in the room, and the lights are off. Huh? That’s odd considering Jungkook was already in the room........... Maybe he was taking a nap? With music blasting, naked?

So one look at Jungkook and one of our excuses for him is already invalid. He wasn’t taking a shower- his hair is dry. (But hey!! Maybe he was napping naked with music blasting!!)

Side note, the fact that Jungkook doesn’t know the song kind of confirms my suspicions that he was listening to some sort of pre-made playlist.... just throwing that out there.

Jungkook just seems very shaken up by this whole encounter... but why? If he truly was just napping naked, I find it unlikely that he would be so flustered. Food for thought.

At 7:20, Tae gets distracted by the music, and Jungkook lowers the volume from where he’s standing, confirming to Tae that the speaker is bluetooth. Interestingly enough, he’s standing across the room. Which means his phone is in his hand/on the other side of the room, not on the little table with the speaker. We will come back to this.

So... when Tae tells him he is on Vlive, Jungkook finally gives an alibi for these weird circumstances.....

He.... was eating bread?

Let’s go over this again.

Music was blasting. Tae knocked on the door. Jungkook was very frantic, said “Jimin” in a lowered tone, told Tae he was naked, knocked items around a bunch while Tae was waiting, and then let Tae in to reveal the room is dark, music still blasting, and Jungkook had thrown a robe on without even tying it. But... he was just eating bread?

I’m sorry, none of this adds up. He could’ve said he was taking a nap, and I would’ve bought it, but there’s no reason for him to have been so frantic if all he was doing was eating bread. And why the lights off? Why “Jimin!”? Why naked??????

You could maybe argue that he was just having ‘alone’ time, and this is why he was so frantic about being interrupted.

But... here’s where we will get into the evidence (beyond him saying Jimin’s name), on why I don’t believe he was alone in the room.

3. Jungkook wasn’t alone

At 8 minutes, Jungkook goes to the nightstand to look at something while audibly chewing bread. Tae lays down on the bed, staring at the camera. The screen goes black (someone turned off a light?), a door clicks open, and you then here a startled voice... “Oh, you scared me.” Neither of them were near a door. Neither of them flipped a light switch.

(Above is Tae’s reaction to the lights being turned off/door opening.)

Tae reacts to the voice but quickly schools his features and doesn’t respond.

This is clearly Jimin’s voice. It’s a high pitched voice, much higher pitched than JK’s or Tae’s. You can hear the clear difference in voice pitch and tone because Jungkook speaks directly after ‘Jimin’ does, and... it’s just not the same voice. But hey; if you don’t buy it just based off vocal tone, let’s reason through this.

Jungkook had already calmed down by this point. He had expressed earlier in the Vlive that Tae had startled him, but had since calmed down and was rolling with the punches. He was also very audibly in the middle of chewing. Not to mention, the sound is clearly coming from behind the camera, not in front, where Tae and Jungkook were.

If you’re STILL not buying it, I will link a video that does a voice comparison of Jimin saying “You scared me” at a previous point in time. I think it will become pretty clear who spoke.

(4:20 for voice comparison)

youtube

This is pretty strong evidence, but it’s not tangible proof, I’ll give you that. So let’s keep watching.

Oh look, further evidence that Jungkook wasn’t naked to shower.

Uhh... the grainy video quality would’ve made it impossible to tell, but thank you for giving us another clue, Jungkook. His makeup was smeared... very interesting.

Now an observation...

The bathroom light magically turned on/the bathroom door magically opened? Remember the sounds we just observed hearing? That neither Jungkook or Tae were responsible for?

As a reminder, here’s what the hallway looked like when Tae walked in... (The door with light coming out is from the hallway, not the bathroom. The bathroom door is to the right of where Tae is standing. Closed.)

Another screenshot showing the bathroom light was clearly off when Tae first walked in.

Jungkook did not at any point go into the hallway to open the bathroom door after letting Tae in. There’s no explanation for this unless someone else is in the room.

They proceed to start with a karaoke song, but while the intro is playing, there seems to be something on JK’s mind.

He’s looking toward the bed distractedly. Why?

11:13, in the midst of their karaoking, Jungkook pans the phone at the perfect angle to see a white phone in the corner of the room, on the same chair where Tae was earlier looking at the Bluetooth speaker. As I noted earlier, Jungkook’s phone was either in his hand or on the other side of the room. And Tae’s phone is in his hand. Meaning... there’s just a random phone sitting in the room?

And in case you were to argue Jungkook just stuck his phone there when he was off screen, I will offer the infallible evidence that it is Jimin’s phone and not Jungkook’s. Jungkook had a ‘Space grey’ iPhone at the time, while Jimin’s was white. It is just very clearly not his phone.

Proof of this can be seen at 27:11 of this video

youtube

Moving on, another odd moment happens, though this could be nothing. It feels worth including in the scope of everything else.

I don’t even know what Tae is trying to imply by saying “Jin is taking a bath now” but directly after he says this, Tae makes a ‘pervy’ face and looks toward the corner of the room, and Jungkook looks in the corner as well. As if there was someone standing there...

Then, Tae goes on to text Jimin that he wants to visit. What the heck?

In my opinion, Tae clearly knows that someone (Jimin) is in the room with them. So why text him? Maybe to cover up for the fact that Jimin spoke earlier in the Vlive? Maybe as a way of teasing Jungkook?

Now, as Tae leaves the room, the bathroom door.... Is miraculously closed?

There’s absolutely no way either of them closed it, as they were both on camera the entire time between us seeing the door open and him walking to the hallway. The only explanation is the paranormal. Or even spookier..... Jimin.

Now, this is a point that isn’t necessarily proof but certainly adds to the entire picture of the situation that just occured. As soon as Tae leaves, the door clicks shut. (14:04). If you had been paying attention, when Tae entered the room, the door didn’t completely shut the entire time he was in there. It was an unweighted door. It seems likely to me that as soon as Tae left, Jimin came out from the bathroom and shut the door. (As Jungkook was at the opposite end of the room and didn’t seem like he was in any rush to close the door.)

At 14:14, Tae looks over toward where he came from with an extremely worried look on his face. If you turn up your volume, you can hear some men having a calm conversation, and then Jimin’s distinctive high pitched voice yelling something in a scolding kind of tone. A door slams open/shut, and Tae tells his audience that he locked himself out and he has to leave. Koreans have translated what Jimin was yelling and it is included in some video analyses I have seen, however since I can’t confirm the accuracy of these translations I won’t include them. If you speak Korean and want to give unbiased translations to what is overheard in this scene, please reblog or send me an ask! I’d love to include it.

He promptly ends the Vlive here.

4. Conclusion

So now that we’ve gone through the chronology of this, let’s just look at everything at face value.

We hear Jungkook say Jimin’s name. We hear Jimin’s voice. We see (likely) Jimin’s phone. The bathroom door opens and closes by itself, the bathroom light turns on by itself. Tae and Kook both clearly look at someone in the corner of the room shortly before Tae leaves. We hear Jimin’s distinctive angry voice after Tae leaves the room. All of this evidence in mind, I feel justified in saying that Jimin was likely in the room.

Now let’s look back on the scene we walked in on, knowing Jimin was there... There was sexy music blasting, the lights were off, Jungkook was naked, had smeared makeup, and was VERY frantic that Tae came in.

....

I think you get the point I’m trying to make here.

5. Counterpoints

Now to be fair, let’s get into a few common counterpoints I hear.

a) The bed is still made

This is a valid argument. But I mean... to me it looks like the bed has definitely been sat on, at the very least. Just because the covers aren’t untucked does not mean that all of this other evidence is worthless.

I don’t want to get graphic but there’s a lot that can be done naked in a dark room without messing up the blankets. All of this doesn’t even mean anything was “happening”, but it certainly is a scene that makes you pause and question.

b) Why would they hide being in the same room? They’re all bandmates and friends!

Uhh, okay, somewhat valid, but. Jungkook was naked. And he told us that. And the lights were off and there was music blasting. It would be VERY weird if he yelled “Hold on, I’m naked!!!” and then he let us in with an untied robe on and said “oh, by the way Jimin’s with me!”

Shan’s notes (I’m shan):

Anyway, in the process of making this I think I’ve only convinced myself even more that Jimin was in the room. I hope I’ve convinced some skeptics, but if you’re still not convinced, I hope you can at least see where we believers are coming from when we say it’s convincing!

If you are intrigued and would like to see an AMAZING analysis of this with live edits for clarity of audio and visuals (and perhaps a few pieces of evidence I didn’t talk about) I will recommend you to watch the following video.

youtube

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading.

Buy me a coffee if you liked what I wrote. I take requests :)

#jikook #kookmin #km #jikook analysis #jikook discourse #ask

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kpoppwriter · 4 years

Text

The Guy From Summer Camp

Genre: Camp Counselor!AU (Counselor!Mingyu x Counselor!reader)

Words: 3.5k+

Warnings: n/a

Synopsis: You were a counselor at a summer camp in your hometown right after your senior year of highschool. So was Mingyu. You had a bit of a summer romance but after camp ended, you never spoke. Years later, you’ve graduated from college and are looking for a job. In the meantime, you sign up to be a counselor at that same summer camp, for old times sake but what happens when your old flame is also back as a counselor?

A/N: I was inspired to write this by the series Tales from Camp by @kwanisms I highly recommend it its so so good 1000/10 also thanks to @allymemes19 for helping me with a lot of this love you girl 💕

This is the longest singular fic I have ever written. I have other series and such that are longer but this is the longest thing I’ve written at one time. I love this so so much and I hope you all do too!!

You stood in front of the large doors of the dining hall, your suitcase beside you. You could hear the soft voice of people chatting through the wooden material. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You grabbed the door handle and slowly opened the door.

“Ah, there she is!”

All eyes flicked over to you as the camp director walked over to you. He smiled, welcoming you in. You felt slightly embarrassed as you noticed everyone looking at you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She’s our other camp alum.”

“Other?” you shot the director a quizzitive look

Before he could answer your question, a loud banging echoed from the kitchen in the back of the dining hall. After a moment, a head popped up from behind the counter.

“Sorry, I dropped the baking tray.”

The person stood up, placing the baking tray in his hand on the table behind him. He walked out of view, assumedly going towards the door that lead back into the dining hall. You heard the director chuckle from beside you.

“Typical Mingyu.”

“Mingyu?”

You locked eyes with the male just as he walked into the dining hall. You blinked a few times, like you weren’t sure if this was real. Apparently, Mingyu was having the same feelings as you, his expression mirroring yours. Mingyu cleared his throat.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

The rest of the orientation went smoothly. You were reintroduced to all the rules and regulations of the camp, as well as the duties you’d be performing over the summer. After everyone was given the camp counselor “uniform” (it was just a light blue t-shirt with counselor written on the back), you were sent to your assigned cabins. You were glad you had seniority at this moment since it meant you got a single room instead of having to share a room with some other girls that you barely knew. All the counselors walked together down the path towards the cabins. You walked behind everyone, too tired to join in on the conversations. You didn’t realize how lost in thought you were until you felt someone bump your shoulder. You looked over and noticed Mingyu walking beside you.

“Hey.”

There was silence.

“It’s been a while,” he said

“It has.”

Silence yet again. You walked awkwardly beside each other.

“Listen, I don’t want this to be awkward between us,” Mingyu sighed, “Do you wanna pretend we’ve never met before? We can start over.”

Mingyu stopped in front of you, extending his free hand your direction.

“Hi, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

Your lips twitched into a smile as you took his hand, shaking it.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/L/N Y/F/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he nodded

You continued to walk down the path, stopping just before it split off in two directions.

“Well, I’m that way,” you pointed your thumb towards the right path that led to the girls’ cabins

“I’m that way,” Mingyu pointed to the direction of the boys’ cabins

You nodded, pausing before turning to walk down the path. You turned back around when you heard Mingyu call your name.

“Meet me at the spot tonight after lights out.”

Before you had a chance to question him, he was gone down the other path.

“I dub thee...our spot,” Mingyu said triumphantly

“Our spot?” you laughed

“Yeah! Our spot!” he said excitedly, “I mean, we spend so much time here and literally everyone knows that if either of us are missing, we’ll be here. It’s our spot.”

You nodded, agreeing with his reasoning. You stared out at the lake in front of you, the sun reflecting orange and pink hues on the water. You were thankful for the blanket Mingyu had insisted on keeping hidden nearby. It had rained early in the morning and the ground was still a little damp. Mingyu sighed as he laid down, his arm going to rest under his head. Instead of watching the sunset, his eyes were focused on you. He tapped your shoulder. You looked over, his arm beckoning you to lay down with him. You smiled as you cuddled up to his side. He moved the arm under his head and circled it around your waist. He pulled you almost completely on top of him making you both giggle. He brushed a stray hair away from your face, his fingers lingering by your face. He cupped your cheek and pulled your face close-

~~~

“Y/N!”

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard your name. You turned to see Mingyu sneaking over to you.

“I forgot how hard it is to sneak out of the cabins after lights out,” he chuckled

“Yeah, I know. The floors are even louder than before,” you joked

Mingyu got comfortable in the grass, the roots of a nearby tree making it a little hard.

“I forgot how beautiful this view is,” you whispered

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I was actually worried that you forgot where this place was.”

“How could I forget when you made such a big deal of it,” you laughed, “You loved this spot so much. You even wanted to put up a sign claiming it as ours.”

“Well, it’s a great spot,” he grumbled

The water was still, the occasional lighting bug reflecting its light on the surface. It was dark and you were very glad of this fact. You could feel a warmth on your cheeks and you didn’t want to give Mingyu the satisfaction of seeing the pink tint.

“So,” Mingyu turned to face you, “What have you been up to since the last time we saw each other?”

Oh, how bittersweet those words must’ve felt coming out of his mouth.

“Ah, ya know...college and such,” you hummed, “After camp, I moved into the city and started college. I just graduated actually.”

“Oh, congrats,” Mingyu smiled, “I just graduated too!”

“What’d you major in?”

“Culinary arts.”

“Of course you did,�� you smiled, “I can’t imagine you doing anything else.”

“Well, you’re the one that told me I should even go to school for that.”

He was right, you had totally forgot. After listening to him tell you about another amazing recipe he wanted to try out, you had mentioned that he’d be a great chef and he should go to school for it. You didn’t think he really took that to heart.

“What did you major in?”

“Education.”

“A perfect fit for you too,” Mingyu chuckled, “You were always good with the campers.”

“So were you Mr. I-Can’t-Wait-To-Be-A-Dad. I swear that’s all you’d talk about sometimes. It was always cooking or having kids.”

You both laughed, knowing you were only half joking. The sounds of the night echoed in your ears. So many memories of the last time you were at camp resurfaced in your mind. You couldn’t tell if this made you happy or sad.

“I missed you.”

You barely heard Mingyu speak, his voice just barely above a whisper. His eyes were focused on his hands. He was far too shy to actually look at you now.

“I was so sure it was going to be us in the end,” he sighed, “Then everything just...fell apart.”

“I know.”

You gazed out onto the water, the world feeling absolutely quiet for just a moment. You pulled your knees up to your chest holding them tightly. Your mind drifted off to all the times you spent daydreaming about your life with Mingyu after camp. All the plans you had. All the dreams. You sighed, your forehead resting on your knees.

I know.

You were groggy when you woke up the next morning. Probably because of how late you stayed up, even after parting with Mingyu. You couldn’t sleep. You were just stuck on him. One of the other counselors knocked on your door telling you that they were heading to the dining hall. You told them you’d catch up with them in a bit. You didn’t really bother with getting ready, just throwing on your camp shirt and some shorts before heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix your hair.

You yawned as you walked the path towards the dining hall. You noticed up ahead were some of the male counselors, Mingyu sticking out like a sore thumb. His height made him very easy to spot. He noticed you walking behind the group and sent you a small wave. You returned it with a smile.

The dining hall was surprisingly quiet,. Then again, you were used to seeing a bunch of kids filling all of the tables. Today, it was just the counselors and other camp staff. You grabbed a tray of food and headed towards the table where some of your cabinmates sat. Just as you were sitting down, the camp director walked to the front of the room.

“Morning everyone!” some people responded with a greeting of their own, “The campers will be showing up today around noon so everyone be ready up at the front gates to greet them.”

There were murmurs of ‘alright’ and ‘we’ll be there’ from the tables.

“Now, as we have more campers, as well as counselors this year, I have taken the liberty to divide up tasks ahead of time. Everything will be done in pairs so don’t worry about being asked to do too much. Also, you won’t have to do the same duties every day. I tried to split everything up so everyone would be able to do a little bit of everything.”

You weren’t really listening, your chewing drowning out the sounds of the director talking. Your eyes scanned the room, not really in search of anything but just to see what people were doing. Your eyes landed on Mingyu. He still looked tall despite being sat down. You were sure he had just gotten out of bed, his clothes looking like pajamas and his hair a bit disheveled. He was scarfing down his food, also not paying attention to the director. He lifted his head for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. You quickly looked away, knowing he was probably smirking at the sight of the blush appearing on your cheeks.

The director finally finished talking and hung up the list of duties on the corkboard beside the front door of the dining hall. Counselors crowded around trying to get a look of what they were assigned to do for the next few weeks. You waited until most of the people had left before going up to check. You scanned the page looking for your name. You let out a sigh when you finally found your name. Kitchen duty on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and campfire time on Fridays and Saturdays.

“Ok, that’s not too bad,” you thought, “But who with?”

Mingyu. For both.

“Looks like we’re kitchen buddies and campfire buddies, huh Y/N?” Mingyu singsonged from behind you

“Looks like it,” you hummed

He sent you a warm smile before heading out of the dining hall. When he was out of sight, you let out an exasperated sigh. Why him?

“Mingyu, I swear to god if you put anymore of that frosting on me I will-”

“You will what?” he smirked, his icing covered finger inching closer to your face

“I know where you sleep,” you threatened

“And?”

You slipped around Mingyu and dashed to the other side of the kitchen. You laughed at his surprised expression.

“I’m slicker than you think I am,” you teased

“Oh, now you’re in for it.”

He chased you around the kitchen, his finger still holding onto the frosting. He caught up to you, snaking his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his chest and smeared the icing on your nose. You whined as you tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He spun you around but still kept you trapped in his arms.

“I can’t get it,” you whined, trying to lick it off your nose

“You don’t have a long enough tongue for that, babe,” he chuckled

He licked the frosting off the tip of your nose, eliciting a groan from you.

“Did you seriously just lick me?” you shot him a disgusted look

Mingyu only laughed, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

~~~

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to reality. You stirred the large pot of stew in front of you. You could hear Mingyu humming to himself from somewhere else in the kitchen. He was cutting up some vegetables to add to the side dishes for dinner.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked suddenly

“Hmm?” his question took you by surprise, “Oh, ya know...”

“No I don’t actually,” he laughed, “That’s why I asked.”

He stopped chopping vegetables and walked over to you, leaning against the counter.

“Spill.”

“I was just thinking about one of the times we were in here,” you admitted, “When we were supposed to be making cupcakes for one of the events but instead you chased me around with frosting.”

“Ohh I remember that!” Mingyu said excitedly, “You are surprisingly quick. I was sure I was going to fall before I got a chance to catch up to you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t.”

You continued to stir the stew, Mingyu staying beside you. You could feel Mingyu’s stare even though you weren’t looking at him. His fingers gently brushed against your temple as he moved a hair away from your face. Your eyes widened at the sudden touch but you didn’t move away. His fingers lingered by your face, almost like he was hesitating. You turned to look at him, his hand retracting.

“Sorry, that was probably overstepping,” he whispered

“No, no. You’re fine.”

Your eyes were locked on each other. Your mouth was slightly agape, as if you were about to say something. But nothing came out. Mingyu hummed sadly before returning to the vegetables. The sounds of bubbling stew and the slicing of vegetables filled the kitchen but it still didn’t fill the silence between you and Mingyu.

“What happened after camp ended?” he whispered

“What do you mean?”

“I thought we said we would make it work.”

You could hear the anger and frustration in his voice.

“Life happened.”

“Life isn’t a good excuse,” he mumurmed

You spun around to face him.

“You think I didn’t wish everything would’ve worked out? That we would’ve had the fairytale ending like we had hoped?” you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, ”I wanted nothing more than to be with you. I thought about you everyday but I knew it couldn’t work. Not with everything I had on my plate.”

You let out a labored breath, all your emotions finally bubbling over. Mingyu was stunned at your sudden confession. He took a cautious step towards you.

“Y/N-”

“No,” you put your hand up, warning him not to step any closer, “I can’t do this. I came back to reminisce on the past. Not remind myself of how I broke your heart.”

You rushed out of the kitchen and out of the building, ignoring Mingyu as he called for you.

You avoided Mingyu like the plague. You were still upset from the other day in the kitchen and still guilty from all those years ago. You had always felt guilty about what you did. You never meant to hurt him. But you couldn’t avoid him for much longer as it was Friday night and you two had to watch the campers at the campfire that night. it was unavoidable. You mustered up all the courage you had as you left your cabin at sunset.

Mingyu was already setting up at the fire pit when you arrived. He looked a little surprised to see you.

“Didn’t think I was gonna come?” you said

“Well I mean- I just wasn’t sure since you haven’t shown up for kitchen duty...”

“Yeah...sorry about that.”

The conversation trailed off and the two of you just set up the fire pit in silence. Campers started walking up, their voices echoing into the night. The fire was burning bright, campers sat around it chatting loudly. You were fixing one of the younger girl’s hair when you heard a guitar being strum. The kids were silent only quiet oohs and ahhs coming from their mouths. Mingyu sat on one of the log benches with a guitar in hand.

“I was thinking about playing a song for you all. How does that sound?”

The children excitedly scooted closer waiting for Mingyu to start playing.

“What about you, Ms. Y/N?” one of the boys asked

“Yeah! We wanna hear you sing!” another boy said

You tried to protest, coming up with excuses about how you weren’t a good singer and such. Mingyu immediately shut that down by stating that you had an amazing singing voice. You sent the male a glare as the begging from the children got more persistent.

“Fine, I’ll sing.”

The children cheered as you moved to sit closer to Mingyu. You sighed, waiting for him to start playing.

“Settle down with me. Cover me up. Cuddle me in.”

Oh no.

“Lie down with me, And hold me in your arms.”

Not a romantic Ed Sheeran song. Not this one.

“And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck. I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet.”

Mingyu’s eyes moved from his guitar to meet yours.

“And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now.”

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

“That’s such a pretty song,” you hummed

“It is,” Mingyu agreed

He let go of the guitar in his lap and took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining. You brought his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He giggled at the cute action. The flashlight that Mingyu had somehow attached to the nearby tree illuminated the two of you just enough; enough for you to see the blush on Mingyu’s cheeks.

“Aww you’re blushing,” you cooed, pinching his cheek

“Stooop,” Mingyu pouted, playfully swatting your hand away

“How cute.”

You sat together on the blanket, fingers still intertwined. His thumb stroked the side of your hand absentmindedly. He stared up at the stars trying to find constellations he knew. Your gaze was too focused on him to do the same.

“I love you,” you whispered

Mingyu’s eyes went wide as he moved to look at you. You stammered out some type of apology but was quickly stopped when Mingyu leaned over and kissed you.

“I love you too,” he whispered against your lips

~~~

The night felt colder now that you weren’t by the fire anymore. Some of the younger girls wanted to go to bed but were too scared to walk alone. You walked them back to their cabin but didn’t really feel like going back to the campfire. You slowly made your way to the spot, not wanting to retire for the night. You passed by many small groups of kids heading back to their cabins from the campfire. You were happy when you finally arrived at the spot, needing some peace and quiet. You stared out onto the lake completely ignoring everything around you.

“Is this seat taken?”

You jumped slightly at the sudden voice pulling you from your thoughts. Beside you stood Mingyu pointing at the ground next to you. You shook your head. He hummed as he plopped down beside you. You sat in silence for a while.

“Do you remember the first time we said ‘I love you’ because I do,” Mingyu sighed as he laid down on the grass

You hummed, not wanting to admit that you remember that moment in perfect detail.

“It was such a beautiful night,” he chuckled to himself, “I was looking up at the stars thinking to myself ‘how do I tell her how I really feel without scaring her off?’ and I didn’t even have to worry about that. You said it first.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly. You rested your head on your knees, your face looking at Mingyu. His eyes were looking up at the stars but you knew he wasn’t actually concentrated on them.

“I still love you.”

Your voice was so quiet that Mingyu almost didn’t hear you. He immediately sat up. Your eyes were now gazing out at the lake, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered

He moved his hand to sit atop yours. Your eyes flicked down to your hand then up at him. His hand traveled up your arm to your cheek cupping it. His thumb gently brushed over your skin. He leaned in close, his breath fanning over your lips. He stopped just as his lips ghosted over yours, wordlessly asking for permission. You closed the gap and gently pressed your lips on his. He was so soft with you almost as if you were glass. You gripped onto his shirt tightly keeping him close to you. All your bottled up emotions came flooding out of you, tears rolling down your cheeks. Mingyu pulled away when he felt the wetness hit his thumb.

“I-I’m so so-sorry for everything. I was just s-so scared to start something that maybe w-wouldn’t have lasted but I really w-wanted to be with you and-”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Mingyu pressed a finger to your lips effectively shutting you up, “We’re here now and we’ll make it work this time.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop writing blog #seventeen #seventeen headcanon #seventeen headcanons #seventeen reactions #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #seventeen fluff #seventeen au #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #camp counselor au #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu

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wherevermyway · 4 years

Text

step out! do what you want (chapter one)

pairing: reader/bang chan rating: explicit | 18+ warnings: smut with plot, smoking, explicit drug use, alcohol, partying, unprotected hookups word count: about 6,100 also posted to my AO3 here! chapter/series navigation

chapter one: my house

after being abandoned by your best friend at a lame party, you run into Christopher Bang, a well-known music producer who was also conveniently abandoned at the same party. you're invited back to his place for some fun, but you end up biting off more than you can chew when you find out who he really is.

hello new readers! this is just a precursor to let you know that this is not going to be an all-smut-all-the-time super happy fun fic. there will be dark elements, especially from chapter six to the conclusion. smut has been marked as noted (chapters one through five) so if you’re just here for that, there you go!

disclaimer: any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

side note: for the love of minho’s cats, don’t mix party drugs or drugs with alcohol.

I also recommend listening to "true intentions" by takayan, "bet bet" and "I'm in trouble" by nu'est, and "nxt 2 u" by none other than 3racha while listening to this. playlist can be found here!

“Fuck,” you grumbled under your breath as you sat down on the grungy couch behind you. Your feet were killing you because you thought that your brand new high heels were a great complement to your outfit, no matter what the physical cost to you was. Loud EDM music pulsed from the large speakers on the other side of the room, the bass trembling the couch from underneath you.

Leaning back, appreciating the fact that you were finally off of your feet, you sighed a breath of relief. You silently swore to yourself that you were going to kill Minji the next time you saw her. How could she leave you alone for some dude? Hyunjin: was that his name?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. This party sucked; you didn’t know anyone, it smelled like feet, and whomever was controlling the music was horrible. Who plays EDM sandwiched between lo-fi beats?

You were ripped from your thoughts as the couch shifted as some guy with very bright and well-maintained (albeit obviously bleached) blond hair unceremoniously flopped down next to you. He let his face fall into his hands as he let out an exasperated groan. It seemed like tonight wasn’t going well for him, either.

“What’s your deal?” You shouted in his direction, not actually caring if Mr. Blond responded or was interested in chatting with you.

He lifted his head up from his palms, tilting back to look at you. You saw the whites of his eyes quickly glance up and down your torso and head. An uneasy expression briefly passed over his face - you couldn’t quite decipher exactly what it was. You looked him up and down - in the dim lighting, you could tell he was wearing a nice white button-up shirt, casually buttoned only to his sternum, and some skin-tight, shiny black pants that you assumed were made out of mock leather. He looked good.

Mr. Blond sighed and sat back. He opened his mouth, but didn’t make an effort to look at you. “My friend left me. Ran into some chick he used to fuck off and on and I have no idea where he went.” His hand reached into his back pocket, fumbling around until he pulled out a black pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He brought the pack to his mouth, wrapping his lips around one that popped out of the pack and pulled it out, turning the rest of the pack to you.

“Want one?” He turned his head towards you and looked at you with a relaxed, tired look in his eyes. “You look pretty miserable too. Hot, but miserable.” Mr. Blond’s blatant comment elicited an unwanted snort from you as you grabbed a cigarette from the pack.

“What the hell,” you said with an uncommitted tone as you lifted the cigarette to your lips, “this party sucks and I could use something to take the edge off.” The man sat back on his hand, lifting his lighter to your mouth, lighting the cigarette as you breathed in.

The soft flavour of menthol danced around your tongue as the vapour travelled to your lungs. ‘An interesting choice’, you thought, ‘Blondie doesn’t seem like the type.’

As if he could read your thoughts, Mr. Blond chimed in, “I only smoke when I come to these parties.” You watched him as he relaxed back into the couch, entranced as he took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing up from his lips deliberately travelling up his nose. The sight made your stomach tingle with excitement for a fleeting moment. “I fucking hate menthol, though,” he laughed, looking at the cigarette in his hand before looking to you and smiling, “Name’s Christopher. Chan, when I’m here in Seoul, but I prefer Christopher.”

You smile, taking a drag from your cigarette before introducing yourself. “Nice to meet you, Blondie.” It seemed like your night was finally starting to get a little exciting.

Time had passed, although you weren’t exactly sure how long it was. Conversations with Christopher came naturally - you easily chatted about your interests; how he was in the music production industry and was pretty well known, but preferred staying underground whenever possible; he even seemed genuinely interested when you told him about your modelling career, travelling between South Korea and your home country of Japan, occasionally travelling across Europe and the US for some really high-end shoots.

Minji had texted you an hour ago saying she was sorry for abandoning you and apologizing more, admitting in a text ten minutes later with four pleading face emojis and two sets of eye emojis prefacing that she had left with Hyunjin and was turning off her phone for the night. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, and the look on Christopher’s face as he realized that his friend Hyunjin left with your friend made you belly laugh uncomfortably hard for a good minute.

“What a small world,” you gasp out between laughs, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. “That bitch left me for your friend! I guess it was fate that we met tonight.”

Christopher smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to ask as he turned to you with a smirk on his face, him biting the corner of his bottom lip. You didn’t want to spoil the fun prematurely by interrupting, deciding you’d hear him out. You always enjoyed watching potential one-night stands squirm when they wanted to ask you to their place.

“Yeah, seems like we were meant to meet each other tonight,” he says as he casually reaches his arm across the back of the couch behind you. The stale smell of cigarette smoke doubled in strength as he leaned in closer to you. “What do you say we leave this horrible party and head back to my place? No pressure, it just seems like it’d be more fun to get to know you somewhere that didn’t smell like a locker room.”

Both of you chuckled at Christopher’s lame, but accurate, joke, and you smiled up at him. “Anything beats this place,” you reach down to touch his thigh, and you bring your face next to his ear, whispering, “let’s get out of here,” as casually as you could manage.

‘Oh shit,’ you thought to yourself as the taxi pulled up to Christopher’s apartment building. This was the good part of Seoul: Blondie lived in Cheongdam-dong, which was where the elite and the wealthiest entertainers lived. Surely this was a mistake?

As incredible as it was to actually be going inside one of these apartment buildings, you felt nervous that you were going to break something or offend someone by looking at them for just too long.

Christopher gently pulled you along by your hand, stopping in front of the elevator bays. He looked over at you, noticing that your eyes were darting around and you seemed nervous. “What’s up?” He softly squeezed your hand, looking down at you.

A nervous laugh surprised you as it escaped your lips. “I’ve never been somewhere like this. Gangnam-gu, sure; Cheongdam-dong, yeah - but an apartment here?” You looked up to Christopher, wide-eyed and bewildered, “Who are you really?”

Ding. The arrival of the elevator interjected in your conversation, as Christopher looked down and chuckled. “C’mon,” he said with a non-committal tone to his voice, “I’ll tell you upstairs.”

The ride up to the 32nd floor was tense, and you could feel your hand starting to sweat as every inch of the skin that touched Christopher’s hand was suddenly hypersensitive. ‘Who is this man,’ you wondered to yourself as you stared at him through the corner of your eye.

“32nd floor. Please watch your step.” The soft, feminine voice of the elevator’s AI announced as you reached your destination. Christopher wordlessly pulled you along, through the doors, down the left corridor. You both paused in front of his door as he pulled his cellphone out from his other back pocket, waving it over the keyless entry at his door. 3217 was emboldened in sleek, silver lettering next to his front door. You made a mental note, ‘I should send Minji a text so she knows where to find my body if I go missing.’ It wasn’t a serious thought, but it was something that did cross your mind.

Christopher looked down to his phone, frowning as he scanned his eyes across the screen. He whispered something in English under his breath as he let go of your hand, his voice tense and uncomfortable. With his free hand, he opened the door, holding it open for you. He pointedly looked down both sides of the corridor, making sure to press the door closed as he engaged the thick physical lock above the handle.

“I’ve gotta take care of something really quickly,” he said in a serious tone, turning to you and offering you an uneasy smile. “Feel free to help yourself to anything in here, I’ll be back in a minute.” With that, he spun on his heel and darted off to a room beyond the kitchen, his eyes glued to his phone the entire walk.

The view from the windows is what you first noticed. You could see the buildings of Seoul reach across the horizon, mesmerized by the twinkling lights across the city. It was a beautiful view, one you figure was worth the money that this surely cost. As you pulled your back to reality, you slipped your shoes off at the entrance and made your way to a barstool towards the kitchen counter. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and shot off a quick text to Minji.

Hey, I’m out with this guy I met at that party. His name is Christopher Bang. Another music producer type haha, oops. Apparently, he knows Hyunjin? Anyway, he lives in Cheongdam of all places! I’ll check in with you tomorrow at some point to make sure I’m still alive lol. Btw, you suck for leaving me at that party alone. I’ll get you back, bitch.

You add in a couple of broken heart and crying emojis at the end of the text so Minji knows you’re not actually mad at her. You also send her a pin of your location - just in case; it was something you both did as a habit. As you lock your phone and put it back in your pocket, you hear some terse yelling come from the room that Christopher is in. You’re not able to make it out from this far away, but it sounds like he’s firmly scolding someone over the phone in a mixture of what you suspect is English and Mandarin.

‘Relax,’ you mentally reassure yourself, ‘you just met the guy, he lives in the expensive part of town, he’s probably just having problems with some music deal or something. It’s fine.’

After a minute or two, you decide to grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water, if anything, to pass the time. As you’re turning the faucet off, Christopher comes out of the room, his hair dishevelled and another button from his shirt undone. He walks to the entryway and unceremoniously slips his shoes off. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, then he turns around and walks towards you.

“I’m really sorry about that,” he says with a pleading look on his face, “I’ve just been dealing with some issues with work and it pops up at the worst possible times. Hopefully I didn’t worry you too much?” The upward inflection at the end of his sentence and the smirk on his face as he slowly walks up to you somewhat reassures you. The lighting of the room highlights Christopher’s features in the loveliest way possible - you didn’t notice before, but he has a dimple on the right side of his face when he smiles. He was an honestly attractive man.

“It’s fine, it was just…” you smile, shake your head, and look down to your glass of water as your sentence trails off. Strange? Different? You weren’t exactly sure how to end that sentence.

Christopher picks up on your tension, and lifts his hands to your face. They are soft, and there’s a light woodsy scent that travels with them, like a faint cologne that’s slowly worn off through the night. “I’d like to make it up to you,” he softly lifts up your head, and your eyes slowly trail up to meet his. It startles you how close you are to his face, so close that you can see just how thick his eyelashes are and how deep his brown eyes are.

It happens almost mechanically. Before you really register it, your lips are up against his. It’s pensive and timid at first, but the awkwardness fades as you part your lips against his, letting your tongue travel out to touch his lips, his teeth, then his tongue. It goes from soft and romantic to passionate and intense in a split second. Christopher takes your face into his hands with purpose now, trailing his fingers back into your hair, digging his fingernails into your scalp and pulling you into him.

An anguished moan slips from his lips and it causes your stomach to do backflips. As you take the time to acquaint yourselves with each other’s mouths, Christopher’s hands drop from your head down to your waist. He breaks away from the kiss, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, before he bends down and lifts you up from your hips. You wrap your legs around his waist and giggle excitedly as he carries you from the kitchen into the room he was in earlier.

In a moment, you’re observing the ceiling of this room, as Christopher softly sets you down on the bed. You want to take in the environment, to know more about this mysterious man, but he ruins that opportunity for you as he crawls on top of you, peppering kisses from your lips, to your cheek, down your neck, and across your collarbones. He lifts his head to look at you, smiling somewhat deviously.

“Hey,” he breathes out, “you wanna try something? You can totally say no, but, I think it’ll be fun.” His voice layered in a dark, seductive tone that makes you all the more curious about him, that familiar question popping up in the back of your head: who was this man?

‘Oh no’, you think, worried that he’s going to propose some stupid or weird sexual act that’s going to completely ruin the moment. Christopher must have noticed the look on your face, because he chuckles and sits back on his heels. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing that out of the ordinary. It’s just something that I like to do now and then. Like I said, you can absolutely say no and I won’t judge you or pressure you.” He slips his hand in his front pocket and pulls out a small velvet bag.

You sit up on your elbows, curious as to what the man could possibly have in such a tiny bag. As Christopher opens the bag, he pulls out a small plastic bag with white powder, and another small bag with some baby blue tablets. He outstretches his palm towards you, letting you inspect the bags.

“I might also have an affinity for party drugs,” he says with a nervous chuckle, “comes with the music industry.”

You look down at Christopher’s palm, then back up to meet his eyes. You’re not really upset, just a bit taken aback. However, you would definitely be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at least somewhat curious. Part of you had a feeling this was a bad idea, but the less-logical part of you just wanted to let loose and enjoy yourself for once. When would you really, honestly get a chance to have sex with such a good looking man in an apartment you would never be able to afford in ten lifetimes?

As you bit your lip back and looked up at Christopher with a smirk, you knew and acknowledged that there were red flags in the back of your head, but you pushed them aside, sitting fully up, grabbing the tops of Christopher’s thighs.

“Let’s do it,” you excitedly whisper, against your best instincts, before you lean in to kiss Christopher again. His lips curl in a boyish, excited grin as he gives you a quick kiss back, reaching down to grab your hands from his thighs.

“Come with me.”

Christopher lays down generic ground rules before anything fun happens. He explicitly tells you that if anything makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell him. You reassure him that, yes, you’ve tried cocaine a couple of times because it’s rampant in the modelling industry, but that the ecstasy was something foreign to you. This whole situation was foreign to you, but you continued to stuff that down and ignore it. You needed to live a little while you were still young, right?

You hear Christopher assertively say your name as he waves his hand in front of your face. “Are you listening to me? I won’t do this unless you really want to and you listen to me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head, coming back to reality. “Sorry, I was just spacing out for a second. Honestly, Christopher, I’m fine. I’ll drink water and I’ll tell you if anything makes me uncomfortable.” Christopher’s lips tugged into a slight frown as he lifts his eyebrow. “I promise,” you reassure, grabbing his hand from his side.

“Good,” he relaxes, turning back to the kitchen counter. He grabs the blue tablets, handing one out to you. “Take this first. It’s gonna take a half-hour to really feel it, and that’s when you’re really going to want to play around. Make sure you drink the entire glass of water, too. Trust me.”

Excitedly, you grab the tablet from Christopher’s hand and slip it on your tongue, swallowing it down a bit nervously with a few sips of water. Your eyes dart up, taking in how intently Christopher is watching your every movement. When you set your glass down, he follows suit by dropping the tablet into his mouth and taking a single large drink of water from his glass.

“Okay,” he exclaims, a nervous smile on his face, “still wanna do a couple lines?”

You nod your head a bit too excitedly as you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Christopher smirks in response as he empties the bag onto the countertop, methodically dividing it into four lines - two for each of you. He spends time spreading it out with a card he pulled out from his wallet, holding a ₩50,000 note in his other hand.

“Alright,” he says as he stands up straight, turning to look at you. He rolls up the note into a tight cylinder and passes it off to you with a soft smile, “ladies first, yeah?” You take the note from him and look down to the countertop. With a quick breath in, you bend down - making sure to wiggle your bum a bit for good measure - and take the note to your nose, lining up the end of it to the first line. You quickly sniff up the first line, take a couple of breaths, then take in the second line.

With a perk in your step, you snap yourself back upright and look at Christopher with wide eyes and a delighted grin. His mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are wide, taking you in. “Oh my god,” he whispers in English, switching back to Korean in the same breath, “you are so much fun to watch.” You giggle and pass the note back to him.

Christopher bends down and looks up at you as he gets close to the countertop. “This one’s for you,” he says with a wink, before he inhales both lines in succession. He stands back up, quickly rubbing underneath his nostril before leaning on the countertop with his hands. He takes a quick breath, then turns back to you with an obvious fire in his eyes.

“Let’s get started, baby,” he demands, a low tone in his voice you haven’t heard yet. Christopher grabs your hand, pulling you back into what you assume is his bedroom. He leads you to the edge of the bed, guiding you down as he presses his lips to yours with a renewed hunger for you. His kiss isn’t as soft and tender as it was before: this is more calculated and determined, as if he needed to kiss you in order to save his life. He wastes no time inviting his tongue into your mouth without warning, exploring your mouth with purpose.

You can’t really help it, but you moan at the assertiveness in Christopher’s behaviour, which causes him to subconsciously grind his pelvis down into yours. There’s an obvious, apparent firmness that comes between you and a breath hitches in your throat. “Chris,” you groan out, “I want you, please.”

Christopher breaks away from the kiss, lifting his head up to look at you. “No,” he says with a wide grin on his face, “we’re going to play for a while first, baby.” He sits up onto his knees and unbuttons his shirt completely, aggressively pulling the bottom of his shirt from the waistband of his pants before haphazardly discarding it on to the floor.

You really don’t mean to stare - especially not with your jaw hanging wide open - but you find yourself transfixed on the man’s very obvious and well-sculpted torso. His abdomen is rigid, and his arms have very well defined muscles that are very distracting. Christopher laughs, stretching his hands out towards you.

“Can I?” He questions, reaching down to the hem of your shirt. You throw all caution to the wind, excitedly nodding, inching closer towards him on your knees. As he smiles at you, he grabs your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the ground with a bit more tact. A gasp escapes him as he draws his attention up from your abdomen, slowly up your torso, and eventually looking back up at you with a completely dumbfounded look plastered on his face.

You take this opportunity to slip your hands behind your back, grabbing each side of your bra and pushing the clips together to unhook each side, slipping the straps down each arm. The soft fabric falls from your skin as you peel it off of you and drop it off the edge of the bed.

“Wow,” Christopher breathes out, taking his hands from your hips and slowly lifting them up under your breasts. He gently cups the underside of them, and pulls you into his lap. His soft lips come crashing into yours as he sinks his hands down to the waistband of your jeans, fumbling with the button a bit before he’s able to finally undo it and slide your zipper down. Making sure not to break from the kiss, you hook your thumbs in the waistband of your pants and wiggle them off to about your knees.

Christopher guides you onto your back, giving you a quick kiss one more time before he sits up. “Let me help you out with this,” he says with a smirk as he pulls your jeans off, but leaving you in your underwear. Your jeans easily slip off of your ankles and you can’t help but blush at how exposed you are. Almost as if he can feel your nervousness and insecurities pop up, He smiles and leans down to kiss you for a moment.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with a smile, kissing you again before he steps down to the floor. Your eyes follow him, looking at the way his tongue does a quick pass over his lips before he bites the bottom one and moves to unbutton his pants. The skin-tight material provides a bit of difficulty as he struggles to get the legs to slip down past his thighs, but they come off easily after they pass his knees.

“Man, it’s way easier getting those on than off,” Christopher laughs as he steps out of his pants. He stands upright, and that’s when you realize he’s completely naked.

“Oh my god,” you say with a bit of shock to your voice. It’s a bit embarrassing, you can’t help but stare because his cock is right there and obvious and very hard. It’s larger than you expected, and you subconsciously suck your bottom lip under your teeth as you stare up at him.

He awkwardly laughs as he walks around the bed, sitting at the empty space next to you. “I don’t know if you’re feeling it yet or not, but I really want you to come over here and ride my face right now.”

The sheer bluntness of Christopher’s statement causes a tingling in your stomach and makes your head start to feel fuzzy and tingly. Maybe the ecstasy was starting to kick in after all, because you felt soft and really affectionate. “You want me to do what?” You question, nervously smiling. This was something none of your previous boyfriends or one-night stands had ever done, never mind enthusiastically wanting to try it.

Christopher turns back, grabbing the pillow from your side of the bed, putting it on top of the pillow behind him. He then leans back, resting his head on the pillows, and he tugs your wrist gently, pulling you over him, straddling his waist. “Come on, I promise you’ll enjoy it. If you don’t, then I’ll stop and do whatever you want, okay?”

You have to admit, he has a way with words and you were curious if he could actually make you come or if he just had an oversized ego. “Alright,” you say with a nervous smile, your eyes darting down to Christopher’s chest. His eyes light up and he grabs your hips with a bit too much excitement.

“Really?” The way that he earnestly smiles is really cute. “You wouldn’t believe it, but most women I’ve been with don’t want to try it. It’s something I love doing.” He lets out a giggle and hooks his index fingers into the waistband of your panties. “Can I?”

A wave of excitement takes over - yeah, the drugs are fully kicking in now - and you nod your head a couple of times. “Fuck yes,” Christopher says under his breath as he pulls your panties down in one quick motion, guiding your both of legs out of them. He grabs your hips again and looks up at you with half-open eyes, “Come to me, baby.”

It feels like your inhibitions have completely left you as you shift your pelvis up to Christopher’s face. He reaches his tongue out and takes a quick taste of you, looking up at you very eagerly. A smile comes across his face and he pulls you down onto him fully. Once you’ve rested on his chin, he wastes no time lapping you up.

His tongue is warm and the way it feels on your sensitive skin is enough to make your head spin. A wave of happiness flows up from your toes all the way to your head, giving you a body-wide tingle. As you start to feel warm all around, Christopher takes his tongue and presses it up against your clit, slowly licking you up from the middle of his tongue all the way to the tip. You choke out a moan and slam your hands on the wall ahead of you.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan out, looking down to Christopher, who has a very happy grin plastered on his face.

“Does it feel good, baby?” He moans out in between aggressive licks, taking one of his hands from your hips and slipping it in between your legs. “If you like that,” he says as he slides one of his fingers inside of you, “you’re going to love this.”

Your eyes shoot wide open and you curl your fingers on the wall. A squeak escapes from your lips as Christopher takes another finger and inserts it into you, fingers slowly riding in and out, curling towards your pelvic bone when they’re fully inside of you. Suddenly, the room is unbearably hot and your nerves are on fire. The drugs were having a tremendous effect on you, and everything felt more intense than you had ever experienced.

Christopher took his free hand, grabbing your thigh to steady you. “It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere, so relax.” His voice is soothing and the calming tone of his voice somehow turns you on more. Your hands slip down the wall a bit and your head falls onto your forearm.

“If you stop one more, ah, time, I swear,” breathy moans accent your words, “I swear I will, ah, kill you, Christopher Bang. Fuck.”

A laugh comes from him, “I’d like to see you try.” As you try to come up with a witty quip, he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you fervently, sucking your clit into his mouth as he gives frequent small licks to you.

The intensity is almost too much to handle. Whines keep leaving you subconsciously and you turn to bite your arm to stifle your moans. Your teeth dig into your skin, and you’re sure it’s going to leave a bruise tomorrow. Christopher is relentless, his fingers and tongue working in tandem, and it’s causing your brain to melt. The heat building up in the pit of your stomach is unbearable; your legs start to shake, and you feel close to climaxing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna,” you squeak out in a panicked voice, “Chris, I’m gonna come!”

Christopher moves his hand from your hip to the small of your back, somehow working you even harder. With one last press of his fingers against your g-spot, your head snaps up, straightening your back. You scream out his name at the top of your lungs as your orgasm takes control of you. There’s something about this orgasm that’s otherworldly, it feels almost as if you can feel every nerve in your body vibrate within you and it feels incredible. In your blurry state, you make a mental note to try this more often, the drugs and the face-riding.

Reality slowly comes back to you as you roll off of Christopher and to the side of the bed. “Holy shit,” you breathe out, “that was incredible.” You turn your head to look at him and his pupils are fully blown out, a proud grin on his face.

“You look like you had a good time, yeah?” He questions, rolling over onto his side and resting his head on his palm. “What’d I tell you?”

“Yeah, you were right,” a giddy smile is plastered on your face that you can’t seem to relax, “I did enjoy myself. I think you might have ruined me from anyone else for a while.” You both share a good laugh and the room falls quiet. The nerves in your body have calmed down a bit, but your heart is still racing.

Christopher rolls over, reaching for a bottle of water on the nightstand. He takes a quick drink and passes it to you. “Here, you definitely need this. And you’re not allowed to say no, remember? Hydration’s important.” Too exhausted to argue, you nod your head and take a couple of sips from the bottle. You hand the bottle back and he puts it back on the nightstand. As you’re about to thank him, he takes you by surprise by crawling over you and crashes his lips against yours.

“We’re not done yet,” he says with an ominous tone, breaking away from the kiss, “Not even close. Are you ready for me, baby?” Your eyes widen and you look down between your legs. Christopher is there and you’re concerned if he’ll actually fit. After staring for a second too long, you look up at him with pleading eyes and nod your head. “Alright.”

He sits back on his heels and licks his hand. Once he’s got enough saliva on his hand, he grabs his cock and starts slowly stroking himself, biting his lip as he looks directly at you. “What? Like what you see?” Christopher smiles, then brings himself back down to your level. “I’m gonna go inside you now, are you ready?” You look up at him nervously and quickly nod your head in agreement a couple of times. “No, I want you to tell me you want it.”

Your face is suddenly hot with embarrassment; somehow, this was more embarrassing than sitting on someone else’s face. Christopher puts a reassuring hand on your cheek, then gives a peck to your forehead. “C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“I want you,” you nervously gulp, but find the confidence you need, “I want you to fuck me like it’s your last day on earth.”

Your words make it seem like a spark is ignited in Christopher: his eyes darken and he suddenly gets a serious look on his face. In an instant, he’s pushing himself inside you, the painful but wonderful sensation of being filled up makes you roll your eyes and head backwards. You reach up your hands haphazardly into his hair, gripping tightly once you have fistfuls in each hand.

“Fuck,” he groans once he’s completely inside you. “Baby, you feel like heaven. I’m gonna move, okay?” You nod your head a bit more excitedly than you were intending to, but it makes him smile. He pulls himself out all the way, then quickly slams his hips against yours. The sudden movement causes you to arch your back and moan louder than you expected you could.

Christopher leans down, his arms on either side of your head. He brings his face to yours and sloppily kisses you as he rocks his hips back and forth, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix. You open your mouth, letting your tongues explore each other. As he keeps moving, he takes his left hand and brings it up to your hair, gripping it. The tugging of your hair causes a lightning strike of nerves to light up for a split second.

“Chris,” you moan into his mouth, breath hitching in your throat as his pace quickens, “fuck me harder!”

Your request makes him break from your kiss. He reaches his arms down to your legs and places them both over his right shoulder. “Alright, baby, just tell me if it’s too much,” he smiles deviously and starts thrusting into you again. The new positioning takes you by surprise, making every small movement that much more intense.

Profanity punctuates each thrust as you moan and cry almost incoherently. It feels like you’re starting to lose your grip on reality. It’s probably the combination of this position and the drugs, but your body feels like it’s on an entirely different plane of existence. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s going to explode and you can’t stop yourself from crying out Christopher’s name over and over.

“That’s it, baby,” his voice brings you back a bit, providing you a sense of anchorage in your bliss, “you belong to me tonight.” He fucks you faster and a bit more sloppily, his cadence no longer keeping up a steady rhythm. “Fuck, if I keep going like this,” he cuts himself off, moaning out your name, “baby, I’m gonna come, can I come inside you?”

Words just won’t come to you, so you settle for vigorously nodding your head. Christopher puts one of his arms down on the bed next to you and puts most of his weight on to it. “Fuck,” he groans and tucks his head into his chest, “fuck!” He thrusts into you one more time and bottoms out, twitching as his cum fills you up in rhythmic spurts.

You both stay like this for a moment, before he releases your legs down to his sides. He leans in and lazily kisses you before rolling over, panting and clearly out of breath.

“That was,” he sighs, turning his head in your direction with half-open eyes, “that was incredible. Yeah? How are you feeling?”

Normally, you wouldn’t curl up into a one-night stand, but tonight has you feeling a certain type of way. You crawl into Christopher’s chest and smile, “I feel amazing. That was the most fun I’ve had in so long.”

Christopher laughs, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin against the top of your head. “I’m glad. Let’s do this again in the morning.” You both let out soft giggles and relax into each other. As sleep starts to overtake you, you swear you hear your cell phone buzzing. “Whatever,” you think, “it can’t be that important.”

As you’d find out the next morning, you were wrong. It was incredibly important.

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #skz smut #stray kids #bang chan #putting the bang in bang chan lol #stray kids fic #drug dealer au #step out do what you want #skzsmutnet #skzsmutnetwork #wherevermyway

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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years

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Sweet As Sin - Part One

Summary: After losing your job and having to spend all of your savings, you find yourself completely broke as you desperately search for a job. On a whim, you join a website for sugar babies and sugar daddies can meet, and you’re surprised when you immediately make a connection with Captain America, of all people. But as you grow closer to Steve, you start to realize that there may be a dark side to America’s golden boy.

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Steve Rogers x Reader, with eventual Dark!Steve Rogers

Read Part Two here!

After reaching a certain point in life, people generally come to the realization that the old adage of “when it rains, it pours” is true. At least, that was what you were thinking as you walked to your car, cheeks still burning with shame from what had just transpired in the grocery store.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your card was declined. Do you have any other methods of payment?”

The words echoed in your ears as you drove home; of course you didn’t have another method of payment. You hadn’t ever since your job laid you off. You’d been living off of unemployment for a few months now, barely able to afford rent and living off a diet consisting mostly of ramen noodles. What’s more, you’d just had to get your car fixed after someone t-boned you at the intersection across from your house. So now, you didn’t even have any more savings to fall back on. It was even worse than when you’d been in college; back then, there had at least been a goal in mind. Just graduate, you’d told yourself, and then you’ll find a job.

Well, you’d graduated a year ago, and now you were back to where you’d started – broke and desperate.

You slammed the door shut when you entered your apartment, kicking your shoes off before throwing yourself onto the sofa. You lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling as your stomach growled at you.

“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” you told it. Looks like it was noodles in broth for dinner again, tonight.

Anxiety was constantly clawing at your chest these days, especially now that you were too broke to afford your medication. Later on that evening, you stood over your stove while typing ‘how to make money fast’ into Google. It was a cheap shot, one that you didn’t foresee getting you anywhere, but it was at least something to take your mind off of things while you waited for the water on the stove to heat up.

That was when you saw the add. ‘Finding Arrangements – Where beautiful, successful people find mutually beneficial relationships’ – basically, a website for Sugar Daddies looking for a pretty set of tits to spend money on. You huffed a laugh and scrolled past it, only to return to it a few seconds later.

You chewed on your lip, pondering the link sitting right there on the screen, so engrossed in your thoughts that you jolted when the water started boiling over, sizzling onto the stovetop beneath it. With a curse, you turned down the heat and added the noodles, stirring them in with the seasoning packet as you thought it over. It wouldn’t hurt to check, right? Just a quick glance wouldn’t hurt; if you signed up and didn’t like any of the people you matched with, you could just delete your profile and pretend it never happened.

Your thoughts lingered on the idea as you sat on the couch, still hungry after finishing your meager meal. You’d brought the link up on your laptop, and now you were staring at the site’s homepage. To the right, there was a link to sign up, and to the left, there was a picture of a man in a business suit surrounded by three beautiful women. You gulped, starting to psych yourself out as you stared at the image. But then you closed your eyes and thought about the number in your bank account, and it was enough to motivate you to start typing.

You filled out your personal information and clicked the link the website sent to your email, confirming your new membership. When it came to choose a profile photo, you chose one of yourself from your graduation day. You were standing in your college’s auditorium, wearing a dress made out of gold fabric that was covered with thick black lace; it was your favorite picture of yourself, and you hoped that the dress wasn’t too revealing. It had a high neckline, but it had only come down to about mid-thigh.

You filled out the ‘About Me’ section and then paused when you came to the next question – What are you looking for in a relationship? You thought for a moment, biting your lip and turning over your words before starting to type again.

This is my first time trying out a relationship like this, you wrote. So I would like to find someone who I can trust to guide me through it. In return, I would like to be able to give my (you cringed as you typed the next two words) Sugar Daddy a fulfilling, comfortable relationship in return.

After reviewing your profile, you uploaded it, forcing yourself to sit back from your laptop and breathe. It was out there now; people would see it. Wealthy, presumably powerful people would see it. You closed your computer and hurried to put a movie on, choosing one of your old favorites; it had helped you when you were feeling anxious before.

By the time you finished the movie, you’d mostly calmed down, controlling your nerves until they were just a dull ache in your chest. Before you stood up and went to bed, you checked your phone, eyes bulging when you saw that you already had five replies to your profile.

You opened your notifications, scrolling through the different profiles. Four of them were from men with one of them being from a woman. Your nose wrinkled up when you saw that one of the men were in his 70s, and you quickly deleted his message without even reading it. The next one was in his early 50s, and his profile picture was of him standing in front of a car that looked like it cost more than the entirety of your college tuition. You didn’t delete his message, but you definitely felt dismayed as you skimmed through the rest of them.

You paused, though, when you saw the last one. His profile said that he was 38, making him the youngest of those that had replied to you. His username was Captain_Grant, and his profile only showed his silhouette outlined against a setting sun. The only thing you could see about his features were his defined, slightly-crooked nose and the shadow of a beard against his jawline, but you were more interested in seeing the message he’d sent you.

Good evening, miss. I hope you’re having a nice day. I saw on your profile that you liked to read?

You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing a little. The other ones had pretty much sent you the same thing – “hi”. One of them had had the courtesy of adding a smiley face afterwards, but the fact that this guy had actually taken the time to read your profile made him stand out amongst the rest.

Good evening, you typed back. I do love to read; right now I’m in the middle of a great book.

His reply came only about a minute after you sent your response.

What’s it called?

You typed out the title of the book. After another minute, Captain sent you a picture. You held your breath as you opened the attachment, praying that it wasn’t a dick pic, and you were pleasantly surprised to see a photo of a bookshelf. The book you’d mentioned was resting on it along with a few others by the same author.

I’m a fan of theirs, too, as you can see.

You grinned and got up, taking a quick photo of your own bookshelf and sending it to him. You’d bought it from IKEA years ago, and its thin shelves had started to sag under the weight of all of your books, but you loved it anyways.

You have quite the collection, miss.

You chuckled at how polite he was and sent him a message that he call you by your first name.

‘Miss’ just seems so formal, don’t you think?

I was going more for polite, but I see what you mean. Well, then, you should call me Steve. ‘Captain’ isn’t really formal so much as it’s just weird. …I’ve been told I’m not good at picking out profile names.

You giggled at that; Steve seemed like a dork. But a cute one.

I think your profile name is great, for the record, but I’ll stick with Steve. What made you join this website, Steve?

It took him a few minutes to respond, and you worried for a second that you’d asked something too personal. But as you got ready for bed, you saw that he’d finally responded.

I’m an old fashioned kinda guy, and in the past I’ve been told that I’m a bit too…overbearing in a relationship. But I’ve always believed that a man should take care of the woman he’s with. So a friend of mine suggested this site, and I figured I would try it out. You’re the first girl who I liked enough to send a message to, though.

You smiled at that, feeling warmth bloom in your chest.

What made me different from the rest?

All the other girls on here only talked about what they wanted to get out of a relationship in their profiles. You were the only one who mentioned what she wanted to give.

You felt as if butterflies were flying around your stomach, and your thumbs started typing of their own accord.

Do you think we could meet sometime? Maybe grab a cup of coffee?

I would love to, doll. I’m out of the country right now, but I get back in a week. How about we meet up then? Your profile said you live in Brooklyn; is that right?

It sure is; I’ve lived here ever since I finished college.

You’re a girl after my own heart; I grew up in Brooklyn. There’s a bagel shop that also serves coffee that I highly recommend. We could meet there if you’re up for it.

You didn’t even think before you answered him back.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

________

Over the next three days, you and Steve messaged each other as much as possible. He was so easy to talk to; you’d almost forgotten about the financial element of your relationship. During the day, when he was busy with work, you found yourself missing him. Right around the evening, you would start jumping for your phone any time it buzzed, and your heart would sink with disappointment when it wasn’t Steve.

You were on such a high from meeting Steve that you’d forgotten all about the things that were causing you anxiety. That was, until your landlord sent you an email talking about how rent was going to be raised an extra $50 each month. The news had washed over you like a bucket of iced water, sending you into the worst panic attack you’d had since college.

You’d spent the next few hours either pacing across your living room or crying in bed, curled up as that same feeling of helplessness that had haunted you for the past few months settled over you heavily. You hadn’t even realized that your phone was buzzing. At least, not until the fifth or sixth buzz. Wiping away your tears, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened it up, seeing several missed messages from Steve.

Hey, doll, just got done with work for the day.

How was your day?

You ok, doll? You’re usually around by now.

Are you ok?

I’m sorry for hovering, I’m just worried about you.

You there?

You felt guilt settle over you as you began to type with trembling fingers.

I’m so sorry, Steve. I just had a really rough day; I didn’t even realize that my phone was going off.

His reply was instantaneous.

God, you scared me, doll. Are you alright? What happened?

My landlord raised the rent by an entire $50. Rent is due by the end of the week, and I have no idea how to come up with the money.

You sniffled and waited for him to reply, and when he did you felt you felt your tears subside for a brief moment.

Is that all? That’s why I’m here, hon. Do you have a PayPal?

Steve… Are you sure? This is so much.

You could almost hear his laughter in his next reply.

Doll, I promise that $50 is NOT a lot to me. Besides, that’s part of this whole thing, isn’t it? Me taking care of you?

But I haven’t done anything for you in return…

He waited a few more minutes before responding.

Well… What if you did something for me tonight? Would that make you feel better?

Your felt your heart start to beat faster at his words, wondering what he would have you do.

What do you have in mind? you replied, trying to keep your words neutral.

Give me your phone number and let me call you?

Your breath puffed out at such a simple response, and you sent him your number without a second thought.

A few seconds later, your phone began to came, and unknown number appearing on your screen. You took a deep breath, feeling your heartrate skyrocket once more; you’d only known him for a few days, and yet a simple phone call from him was enough to make you feel breathless.

You fumbled with your phone, accepting the call and hesitantly raising it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, doll. It’s Steve. Although… Well, that was probably obvious, right?”

Your laugh sounded more like a hiccup, and you cringed at the sound, trying to blink away the tears that were still trying to escape.

“Hi, Steve,” was all you could sigh. “It’s…really good to hear your voice.”

And it really was; it was somehow even better than you’d imagined it – not terribly deep, but warm, so warm that you wish you could curl up and get him to read bedtime stories to you.

“Have you been crying?” he asked, a touch of worry working its way into his voice.

“Oh, um… Yeah,” you sighed. “This whole rent thing has really got me anxious.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he replied. “Can you give me your email address?”

You gave it to him, hearing the typing of a keyboard in the background.

“Thanks, doll. Just give me a minute, ok? I’m still trying to get better with my typing skills.”

You chuckled, picturing him typing with his two pointer fingers, but you still didn’t understand what he was asking you to give him a minute with.

“What are you doing, Steve?” you asked.

“Just wait; I’m almost done.”

After a few more seconds of typing, you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it away to see that it was an email from PayPal. Your eyes went wide as you opened it, audibly gasping when you saw the message waiting for you when you opened your account. You have $250 waiting to be accepted.

“Steve!” You heard his laugh from the other line, and for a second you were caught off guard; you immediately loved the sound more than you’d loved any other laugh you’d ever encountered.

“This is too much!” you cried out. “I only needed $50! Steve, I’m no mathematician, but you gave me two hundred more than that!”

Steve only laughed again.

“I won’t apologize for taking care of my girl,” he said, making your cheeks heat up at the term of endearment. “You deserve it; you’ve had a rough day. Go out and get a massage, or buy something nice for yourself. Do something that’ll relieve some stress.”

Your eyes went half-lidded for a second at the thought of a massage; you couldn’t remember the last massage you’d gotten. But no; you needed to be smart with your money.

“Well… Thank you, Steve,” you sighed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Every penny is worth getting to hear your voice,” he murmured. “It’s even prettier than I imagined it.”

“Steve…no…”

“No?”

“You gotta stop saying such nice things. It’s bad enough through text; actually hearing you say them is gonna make me spontaneously combust.”

Steve’s laughed rumbled across the receiver once more.

“Well try your best not to. At least not until we meet face-to-face.”

“Tell me about it. I still don’t know what you look like.”

You could tell by his voice that Steve was smiling when he spoke next.

“What do you imagine I look like?”

You grinned and stretched out in bed, your anxiety from before completely melting away.

“Well… You’re probably tall,” you started. “No… You’re definitely tall. I can tell.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

“You just seem like a tall person.” He chuckled at that, but you kept going on. “I could tell from your profile picture that you have a beard, and I bet you keep it trimmed all nice and neat. And… I’m going to guess that you have brown hair.”

“Well, I’ll be back in three days. There’s only one way for you to find out if you’re right.”

“I know. Still planning on the bagel shop at 9 am sharp, right? On Sunday?”

“Absolutely, doll. It’s a date.”

_______

The next day, you were able to pay your rent early, much to your landlord’s delight. After that, you decided that you would treat yourself to some actual groceries. Having a full shopping cart was a novelty to you; usually, you would load up with a basket containing ramen, maybe some chicken, some eggs, and whatever toiletries you needed. But today, you actually put together a meal plan and a list before going shopping.

Later on that day, you were grinning ear to ear as you put your purchases away in your tiny kitchen. There were green things in your fridge again! And they weren’t mold!

You were cooking a late breakfast for yourself when your phone rang, and you let out an excited squeak when you saw who it was.

“Steve!”

“Wow; someone sounds happy today.”

“I just got back from the grocery store,” you told him. “Thanks to a very wonderful, generous person, I was able to get food! Like, fancy food!”

“Fancy food, huh? What kind of fancy food?”

“Um… Well, I got stuff for salads! And I’m going to make a casserole for dinner. And I have some pasta, some beef, some taco stuff-“

“…Baby, that doesn’t really sound like fancy food. It sounds like regular groceries.”

“Well, it’s fancy compared to what I usually eat,” you pointed out.

“And what is that?”

“…Um…Ramen, mostly. Not that I mind! It’s better than nothing. I’ve got really creative with ramen recipes; it’s a skill I learned in college.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

“That’s gonna have to change,” he asserted. “From now on, I’ll take you grocery shopping once a week, and I want you to get food with actual nutrients in it. Understood?”

You grinned as you flipped the omelet in the pan.

“Only if you let me cook for you sometime,” you bargained. You felt your cheeks heat up when he let out a groan.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal,” he sighed. “I wish I could come back sooner.”

“You can make it for two more days,” you said. “I believe in you.”

“Well, I’m glad someone does.”

The two of you talked until your breakfast was ready, and for the rest of the day you worked on applying for jobs. You kept the news on your tv at a low volume, but later on, while you were cooking your casserole, you heard something about Moscow that made you perk up; Steve had mentioned that he was in Moscow on his business trip.

You hurried to pull the casserole out of the oven and place it on a cooling rack before jogging into the living room and turning up the volume.

“….in Moscow today. It is reported that the small terrorist organization was eliminated by Captain America, Natasha Romanoff, and a group of American agents with them. Luckily, the attempted bombing was stopped before there could be any casualties.”

You watched as the footage cut to Captain America standing in front of a group of reporters, decked out in his uniform with his signature shield strapped to his back. He shifted on his feet, looking out over the room before starting to speak.

“I’m relieved to inform you that the terrorist threat has been eliminated,” he began, and you frowned at how familiar his voice sounded. If you didn’t know any better, then you would think that it was Steve talking to you, your Steve, but you knew the idea was ridiculous. You smiled at the thought; you’d have to ask him later on if anybody else had noticed the similarity.

“The group was small and disorganized, and we believe that they acted independently of any larger organization,” he continued. “Our men and woman, however, are keeping a close eye on any and all other suspicious activity in this and the surrounding countries. For now, we advise you to rest easy, and-“

You muted the tv once more, heading into the kitchen to grab a plate of food. You sat down on your couch and pulled your phone out, dialing Steve’s number. You frowned when you reached his answering machine, but you left a message anyways.

“Hi, Steve! I just saw something on the news about a terrorist group in Moscow… I guess I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay. Just shoot me a text or give me a call when you’re able to. I’ll talk to you soon!”

After that, you ate your food, reveling in having something on your stomach other than the same old noodles. It was while you were wrapping your casserole to put in in the fridge that Steve called you back, and you rushed to answer the phone.

“Hello!”

“Hi, doll,” Steve sighed.

“You sound so tired.”

“Yeah… I guess I am. It was, uh… A rough day at work. But the good news is that I get to come home a day early. Think we could move our date to tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? You can get here all the way from Moscow tonight?”

“Sure can. I’m on the plane right now.”

“Wow. Talk about company benefits…” Steve chuckled, and you smiled fondly as you closed the fridge. “I worried about you when I heard about the terrorists. Is everything ok? No one you knew got hurt, did they?”

“Nah, we’re fine, doll. But you’re sweet to ask.”

“Well, I saw Captain America talking on the news about it and just wanted to make sure. Hey, have you ever noticed that you sound a lot like him?”

“Uh… You think I sound like Captain America?” Steve seemed flustered, and you grinned as you walked back to your couch.

“Yeah; you guys have practically the same voice,” you grinned. “Crazy coincidence, right? You sound like him; you have the same first name… And did you know that he’s grown a beard since-“

“Hey, doll? The plane is experiencing some turbulence. Would it be ok if I let you go?”

“Oh. Yeah! Sure thing, Steve. But we’re still planning on tomorrow morning?”

“You betcha. I’ll see you at 9, and I’ll text you the address.”

“See you soon!”

With that, he hung up, and a few minutes later you received the text with the address. You sent him back a smiley face before getting ready for bed; you would need to get up early to get ready for your date.

It took you a while to fall asleep that night; your mind wouldn’t shut off. Over and over again, it would play possible scenarios of how meeting Steve might go – about what he would look like, what you two would talk about. Eventually, though, you were able to fall into a peaceful slumber, and even your dreams seemed happy that night.

______

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, looking for any imperfections that needed to be sorted out before you left. You’d somehow wrangled your hair into a nice-looking style, although you were pretty sure you’d killed half of the remaining ozone layer with how much hair spray you’d had to use to keep it that way. You were wearing a red set of leggings with an oversized, cream-colored sweater overtop it; despite the fact that the clothes were old, they still looked good, and you hated the fact that you didn’t have better shoes to complete the ensemble. You pulled on your black high-top Converse, deciding that they were the best looking pair of shoes you had, and you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time before walking out the door.

The bagel shop was only fifteen minutes away from where you lived, but the drive seemed to last for fifteen seconds and fifteen eternities all at once. You tried in vain to calm the frantic beating of your heart, but it was still pounding by the time you pulled up in front of the restaurant. You took a short moment to calm yourself, letting out a deep breath before getting out of your car.

You tried to walk with confidence as you walked into the bagel shop, inhaling the scent of baked bread, cinnamon, and coffee that lay heavy in the air. The walls inside were painted a bright, sky blue, and black-and-white sketches were hanging on the walls. The entire wall behind the display case had been turned into a chalkboard, and the various menu items were written across it in neat cursive font. One of your favorite songs from the 60’s was playing over the radio, and you smiled; you already knew that this place would become one of your regular hang outs.

At the moment, though, your eyes were scanning the shop for Steve. All you knew about him was that he had a beard; that is, if he hadn’t shaved it since taking his profile picture. There were only a few people dotted around the room, and most of them were with someone else. In fact, there were only two people there who were sitting alone. One of them was sitting at a nearby table, and he was a man who looked to be in his late 50’s; you hoped to God that he wasn’t Steve.

The only other person there was sitting at a table in the far corner, and he had his back to you. His hair was blonde and slicked back neatly, and his shoulders were incredibly broad. Letting out a sigh, you started walking towards him, wringing your hands as you grew nearer.

“Steve?” you finally asked when you were close, and you saw him straighten up.

When he turned around to face you, though, your eyes grew wide and your lips parted in surprise. There had to be some mistake; this couldn’t be him.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I’m here to meet, um…”

Captain America, or rather, Steve gave you a soft, sheepish smile, and he stood up to face you.

“Hey, doll,” he sighed.

“…I can explain.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers imagine #sugar daddy!steve #sugar daddy!steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader

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btsslowburnfic · 3 years

Text

Chthonic Love Chapter 12

Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Your library date is interrupted, leaving you to question some things

AN: a tad angsty. Pain is a part of growing, yes?

Previous Chapter here

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The two of you had combed through the stacks quite thoroughly by the time lunchtime rolled around. You had acquired a few legal texts in addition to finding some interesting horticultural books. The books were sprawled out along a large wooden table on the first floor of the library. Most of the morning had been spent in comfortable silence with you and Yoongi each bringing books back to the table, looking for more, and continuing the process over and over again.

The door opened with Lethe and another woman carrying trays. “On the table please,” Yoongi mumbled from his seat, gesturing to an empty space next to him.

“Very well my Lord. Just so you know. Penthos was asking about you sir. He did not wish to disturb you, but he would like to speak with you.” Lethe sat the trays down, taking them from the other silent woman.

“Thank you Lethe,” He responded, not looking up from the book he was reading. The two women took their leave while Yoongi continued reading. Finished with the section, he tore off a piece of parchment and put it between the pages to mark where he had stopped. He ran a hand along his chin in thought. Most of the books had been vague and unhelpful. Not surprising since this wasn’t a law library. He looked at the trays of food. He often forgot to eat. As an Olympian he didn’t really need much in the way of sustenance, but he was fairly certain Earth deities required it.

“Persephone,” he lightly called out. He wasn’t sure where you had ended up. Not getting a response, he pushed back his chair and wandered over to the middle. THe library was big, but not so much that it would be difficult to find you. “Persephone.” He called once again, up the stairs.

You looked up from your seat by the window. You had gotten lost in what you were reading. You looked at the page number, committed it to memory, and sat it down. You walked over to the railing and saw Yoongi near the main table. “Yes?”

“Lunch is here,” he gestured to the trays on the table.

“Oh. I didn’t even hear anyone come in.” You remarked as you descended the staircase. “Good. I’m starving.”

Yoongi smiled, pleased with himself that he guessed something right about you. He pulled out a chair for you, causing you to blush slightly.

“Such good manners today. Are you trying to impress me?” You teased him.

“Something like that. Is it working?” He asked shyly, shaking his hair out of his face. He sat down across from you.

You laughed but didn’t give a response, instead you went for the food immediately.

Yoongi took some food to be polite. “Did you find anything?”

“No.” You paused while chewing. “I put like three legal books in the stack and then I found a book about plants of the underworld and started to read it. Did you know the Underworld can actually support plant life? I mean, without me keeping it alive actively.”

“I didn’t. It was dead when I got here. There was the Sea, the Desert, the Caves, and the Mountains.”

“You sir are going to have to take a vacation and do some traveling. The book I read says that some of the mountains used to be volcanic and the resulting ash is actually a somewhat fertile soil base.” Your passion for plant life was clear as you shared these facts with enthusiasm.

“How old is this book you found?” Yoongi raised his brows in surprise.

“I don’t know, but I’m guessing it’s one of the few Underworld books you didn’t write. I’ll go grab it.” You started to get up.

“No, it can wait until after lunch. I’m curious but I’m not in a hurry.” He responded easily. “I guess I don’t know everything about the Underworld.”

The two of you heard a knock at the door. Yoongi straightened up. You hadn’t noticed how casual and relaxed he was while talking to you until you saw the stark contrast. “Enter.” He said, his voice monotonous and firm.

The doors opened, revealing Penthos on the other side. He walked into the library. You suddenly felt your heart rate speed up.

“My Lord. I finished my task from the other day and have news to report.” Penthos’ eyes swept over you for a brief second and then found their way back to Yoongi.

“Which task?” Yoongi asked boredly.

Penthos shifted uneasily on his feet. He looked over at you again. You raised an eyebrow this time, causing him to quickly avert his gaze.

“Perhaps I should submit my report later.” Penthos said, starting to back out of the room.

Yoongi’s eyes opened wider, “No.” He paused and gestured across the table. “You interrupted me and Lady Persephone. You will give the report now.”

“I apologize my Lord, I had no idea Lady Persephone was in here or I would not have come to give you a report.” He responded quickly.

Ah. There it was. He didn’t want to say whatever he had to say in front of you. You smirked. You weren’t sure yet if Yoongi had put the pieces into place yet. You continued to watch the interaction play out.

“And yet here you are. The. Report.” Yoongi repeated.

“Yes sir,” Penthos took a breath before beginning. “The catacombs remain intact. Arachne and her children guard the Eastern and Southern Caverns. The golems are mostly in working order. A few seem as though they have rusted over time. I recommend sending for Hephaestus to come and repair them. The timeline on this of course depends on if and when you think they would need to be used.” He paused and looked over at you for some reason. You continued to stare back. He looked away as he began to speak again. “Additionally, The Northern passage is in need of repair. Several natural cracks have begun to form over time. Something will need to be done to keep anyone from tunneling in from the North, under the mountains.”

Yoongi had picked up a quill and taken a few notes while this was occurring. Meanwhile you were mulling over in your head why Penthos was reluctant to present a report on the Palace’s defenses. Oh. Right. He thought you were a traitor. The word played through your mind again and you found yourself growing more and more angry. Traitor Traitor Traitor.

Yoongi looked up from his paper and over to you for a moment. You felt his gaze on you and you looked away from Penthos for a moment. “Persephone, can you please go grab that book you were talking about?” He asked you quietly. It took you a few seconds to register he was speaking to you, his voice was much quieter and more delicate than it had been a moment ago.

You got up and headed up the stairs to get it.

Yoongi turned back to Penthos. “Very well. I will send for Hephaestus and the two of us will walk the catacombs tomorrow to see what there is to do about the Northern passage.” Yoongi paused and lowered his voice, “Do not interrupt me in the library again. Do you understand?”

Penthos pressed his lips together tightly, his fists balled up behind his back. “Yes sir.”

“You may leave.” Yoongi commanded. He quickly got up from his seat and headed up the stairs. He saw you standing over by the window and closed the distance between the two of you.

You turned around, slight panic in your voice. "I’m sorry, I couldn’t bring the book, I’m...” you opened up your hands which were covered in blood.

Yoongi sighed and reached out,“I know. You started to grow thorns out of your hands. Didn’t you notice?” He asked as he took your hands in his and started to wipe the blood off on the edge of his shirt.

You looked at him in shock. How had he noticed, but you hadn’t? “Stop you’ll ruin your shirt.”

Yoongi looked at you concerned, “I have a million black shirts. It’s fine.” He continued to apply pressure. “Why isn’t it healing? Can’t you heal yourself?” He asked, examining the cuts.

“No.” You laughed dryly. “Isn’t that weird? I can bring animals and people back from almost being dead, but when I get hurt, there’s not a lot to be done. Why is this happening? " You don't really expect an answer.

“You were angry at Penthos.” You can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement. You remain silent as Yoongi moves your hands slightly against a different part of his shirt. Your face reddens as you accidentally brush up against the skin of his stomach. “That’s why you grew the thorns. You were angry and staring at him.” Yoongi looked up from your hands, his almost black eyes softened as he said,” I don’t think your plant powers are meant to be weaponized, especially if you can’t control your powers.”

You felt so stupid. What kind of goddess didn’t even notice that they had plants growing out of their body? You felt like you were being scolded and you wanted to cry. “I know. I didn’t do it on purpose. Like I didn’t grow the vines on purpose. You added quietly, “My powers behave differently down here. This never happened back on Earth.”

"We can figure it out." Yoongi said, his deep voice laced with worry.

You frowned as you kept your eyes on your hands. You felt bad that you kept messing things up. Yoongi shouldn't have to deal with this. “Let’s just find a book that will send me home so I can stop messing everything up.” You removed your hands from Yoongi’s. “I’m Sorry.” You walked quietly down the stairs and out the door.

Yoongi stood there for a minute unsure of what had just happened. That’s not what he had meant at all. Shit. But if the Underworld was causing your powers to behave in a way that was hurting you and other people, maybe you should go back to Earth. Yoongi pouted. But he didn’t want you to leave. Don’t be selfish. She said she wants to go home. She only said that because she doesn’t want to hurt anybody. Yoongi felt the thoughts in his head going all over the place. Ugh. It was time for the afternoon reaping. He ran his hands through his hair and down the staircase.

He made his way out of the library. He didn’t see Lethe in the great hall. He walked over to one of the servants who was dusting a chair. A chair? Really? He thought. Oh well. “Excuse me?” The servant froze and then turned around. And then proceeded to do a 90 degree bow. Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Please find Lethe and tell her to check on Lady Persephone.”

The servant looked back up at him in silence. “Can you speak?” Yoongi asked. They nodded yes. “Ok. That’s all. Find Lethe and tell her that? Yes?”

The servant let out the tiniest “Yes sir.” ever. Good enough. He headed out the door and to the reaping.

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As soon as you got to your room you started to cry. You had done a really good job so far of taking all of this kidnapping in stride. You had even tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you could stay here for a while without anything growing wrong. Hell, an hour ago you found a book saying that plants could grow here. And if plants could grow here, maybe you could survive here too. Maybe Yoongi would have let you stay. But you can’t stay if your powers couldn’t be controlled. You had already hurt Yoongi once and you hadn’t even noticed earlier when you had hurt yourself. If Yoongi hadn’t stopped you, you might have hurt Penthos as well. You started to breath faster, feeling panicked. What if you hurt Lethe? Or Yoongi again? You couldn’t forgive yourself. Up until a few days ago you had never hurt anyone.

You paced in your room. Hoseok wasn’t going to do anything. Maybe you could just leave. You could transform yourself into a tree or a rock on the mortal realm where no Olympian could find you and live happily ever after. You scolded yourself, knowing that these plans were unrealistic and borderline crazy. You sighed and threw yourself down on the bed. You heard the door to your room open.

Lethe walked in, “Hello Persephone. Yoongi asked me to check on you.” She said quietly from the doorway. This caused you to cry even harder.

“Oh dear.” She shut the door behind her and walked over. “May I?” She asked, gesturing to the bed. You let out a sad, strangled sounding affirmative sound and she sat on the bed next to you.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened. I mean...I’m nosey so I want to know. But you don’t have to.” She said as she ran her fingers through your hair. You let out a snot filled laugh.

“My powers keep hurting people.” You cried and held up your hands. They had stopped bleeding, but there were cuts and scabs all over your hands.

“Oh my. I’ll be right back,” She said. You assumed she went to get water and bandages. While she was gone you settled into more of a gentle cry than a sob. She returned and sat down the basin and rags on the nightstand.

“What upset you today? When I was in the library everything seemed fine.”

“Penthos.” You responded, too upset to care about your manners. “He hates me. He thinks I’m a traitor. He didn’t want to say anything in front of me because he thinks I would give a shit about the defenses of the castle. I didn’t choose to come here. Why would I care? And I really like everyone here except him, so why would I do anything?” It all spilled out of you. “I keep messing up and hurting people.”

Lethe took a moment, washing your hands. “You’re a sweet girl [y/n] . You’re kind, and warm, and soft-hearted. The Underworld wasn’t created for sweet girls. It’s hard. And it’s dark.”

“See? I have to go home. I can’t stay here…” you sobbed.

“Wait wait. I wasn’t done.” Lethe continued over your crying. “But it just means you have to be strong. It’s hard to be the light in the darkness. It’s harder to react with kindness than with harshness. And that’s how I know you’re strong. You can blossom wherever you’re planted. You can control your powers if you just remember that you have a choice. There’s room for you in the Underworld if you choose to stay, I’m sure of it.”

Your crying had slowed down so you could listen to Lethe.

“And besides, Yoongi needs you here.” She added.

You snorted. “Yoongi does not need me here. I tried to kill him the other day and now I’ve ruined one of his shirts with my blood and I almost ruined a priceless antique book as well.”

Lethe finished bandaging your hands and took a deep breath. “He likes you. You know that, right?”

You don’t say anything at first. Did he like you? You hadn’t thought too much about it. You knew he was nice to you. “I don’t know.” You said quietly.

Lethe looked at you like you had two heads. “You two hold hands. On a regular basis almost.” She squeaked out.

You felt your cheeks grow red. Now that you thought about it, it had happened on a few occasions. “He’s just being nice.”

“Uhh….no. He’s nice to me. He like, likes you.” She rolled her eyes and moved the basin over to the dresser by the door. “I’m sure you two can figure out what’s going on with your powers. If you want to leave that’s understandable, but don’t let it be because of a miscommunication or something like that. I have to go and do laundry. Change out of that dress, it’s got blood on it. Come on...no more feeling sorry for yourself.”

You appreciated that Lethe was acting more like a big sister or mother to you than a servant this afternoon. That’s exactly what you needed. You sniffled some more and headed behind your changing screen. You threw the dress over and onto the floor.

“There we go. Now get cleaned up and remember, everyone else loves having you here. Got it?”

“Yes,” you agreed begrudgingly.

Lethe reached around the screen with a new dress in her hands. You took it. “And Yoongi likes you.” She added.

You remained silent.

“You don’t have to agree to make it true. I’ll be by later to check on your hands again.”

“Thank you,” you responded, grateful for the screen to hide your blushing. Did Yoongi like you? Like, like you? You wondered and found yourself replaying several of your interactions over the past few days. Maybe he did. NEXT CHAPTER

#bts fanfic #bts au fanfic #bts fanfction #bts suga x you #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #namjoon x you #bts yoongi x reader

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