#to see if something needs to go to the graveyard
Note
Hello! Its me again, i LOVED your Tyler and Aiden one and i'm back with one more. So think about it, Tyler knows baseball right? So why dont he use his bat skills? (is that what its called?) To beat the shit out of phantoms when they first go to the phantom dimension? Maybe something like thr reader gets pulled by a phantom and tyler crashed the phantoms head with his bat?
I love this! Fr this, like man, put yourself to use for once 😭 I'm putting this at like the first-ish part when they all get attacked on the bus.
Home Run
Tyler x Reader
Pronouns: Second person
Word count: 491
Tw: Uhhh bashing in heads??? also blood.
So this wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending your nights with your boyfriend. Usually you would've expected sitting with him in his bedroom watching some stupid cringy movie or you forcing him to play a random game you found the night before. On the other hand, you haven't really had a night like that with him since Savannah, so what did you honestly expect?
Well regardless of how you feel about being unable to live your best life, you don't have a choice. You lay in your bed, waiting for it to finally hit midnight, like it has every other night. As you lay there you feel your mind wandering, and eventually you start thinking about where you all were last night. The bus graveyard, you were all running. But before you can finish the thought, you black out.
Almost as soon as you open your eyes, you hear Ashlyn whisper "Duck" and you, along with the others, crouch down almost in unison. As you all get down everyone starts brainstorming how to get out of this situation, how to get away from the lurking phantom. You sit there silently, almost in a trance, anxiety coursing through your veins.
After about a minute of debating, Ashlyn perks up and her eyes widen slightly, a sight you've gotten used to. She hushes everyone and after a second says "Hide under the seats.". You along with everyone else start army crawling under the seats, peering out periodically to see if the phantom is nearby.
As you try your best to stay still, you hear a semi loud creak. A creak thats too loud to be safe. You cover your mouth with your hand, your breath becoming more frantic with each passing second. You turn to look behind you and before you can do anything, the phantom grabs you by the ankle, pain searing up your leg as you let out a scream.
"(Name)!" You hear yelled, too freaked to be able to figure out whose voice it was. You grab onto a seat above you and start trying to pull yourself up while (attempting to) kick the phantom away. You let out pained grunts as the phantom digs deeper into your ankle, managing to weaken your grip on the seat above you.
You almost give up, the pain becoming almost unbearable for you, but before you let go, you hear a crunch. A loud disgusting crunch. And almost immediately afterwards, the phantom lets go, letting you pull yourself up.
You push yourself out into the aisle, seeing Tyler panting with a broken wooden bat and the phantom laying limp on the ground. You look at Tyler, tears in your eyes either from fear or pain. "Ben! (name) needs help!" Tyler shouts, running to you and pulling you into his arms.
This is when you're finally able to look down, and all you see is blood staining your pants, shoes and socks. It's slowly dripping onto the floor of the bus like a melted ice pop. As you stare at it, almost everything stops. You know Tyler is trying to talk to you to make sure you're okay (you're very obviously not) and you can see Ben tending to your wound with everyone else either staring at you or the dead phantom. But none of it feels real.
After a couple minutes Ben finishes wrapping your wound and Tyler pulls you closer to him (if that was even possible). "Please don't ever do that again" he says softly and he genuinely sounds worried. You nod in agreement and for just a moment, this feels a little better than a cringy movie night.
Omg I'm so sleep deprived, but I hope this turned out good :)
#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard x reader#sbg tyler x reader#tyler hernandez#sbg tyler#sbg#sbg (webtoon)
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What is this weird fanfic war going on, y'all this is so--
"Please Remember"
They had great times. Amazing moments. A friendship he never thought he would have. Never. Ever since he moved to Georgia, everything was just perfect. An unlikely friendship formed because of a group project, an unlikely bond formed because of this trip, an unlikely romance began to bloom because of this moment.
But, good things don’t always last.
Ben had gotten better with his emotions, feeling much calmer than ever. His uncle and aunt asked if it was possible that he wanted to go back with his parents. Ben felt excited, he really did miss his parents and little sister. But…that meant he had to leave behind his friends. It was a hard decision, but he decided to go back. They hung out in the graveyard one more time, staying up past 12 to bid him farewell.
“I’m going to be honest, it was nice having Ben around with me. He was like a brother to me, I’m gonna miss you bud.” Aiden stated, placing his hand on his shoulder. The tall boy smiled at his cousin, bringing him in for a hug. The group laughed as they kept playing games and eating snacks; even Ashlyn was having a good time. It was nice seeing each person be a whole new being from when he first met them, and yet still kept certain personality traits within them.
Finally, the night came to an end, and they all went back inside Ashlyn’s house for one more sleepover. Ben laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t bear leaving them; he had known them for 2 years now. But he was missing home more than ever at this point, it had to be done.
“...It’s too bad we don’t get to graduate all together.” Taylor stated out of the blue.
“You’re still awake? I thought you would be the first to black-out.” Aiden stated, immediately sitting up.
“Meh, can’t really sleep.”
“...You’re also sad about Ben leaving, huh?” Aiden asked the brunette. She stayed silent for a moment, letting the silence set in. Then, she turned to face him, and there were tears in her eyes. The tall boy sat up to sign if she was alright, but he suddenly got bear hugged by her. He stiffened as she sobbed in his arms, but soon after calming down, wrapping his arms around her.
“...I don’t want you to leave…” she softly sobbed, clenching his shirt. Ben patted her back to comfort her, looking up to see that the others had gotten up. It was embarrassing to admit, but everyone didn’t want him to leave. Their friendship was extremely strong, it was going to be hard to let go.
No words needed to be spoken at that moment, they just got up and hugged Ben. It was silent and long; they needed to make it last as long as they could, in case this was their last ever group hug.
...
Who knew that turned out to be true…
`
`
`
Years passed, Ben had just turned 23 recently. Five or so years have passed since he last moved back to his bio family. He was able to connect with new people, continue his path with the guitar, and overall fit right back in. He tried texting his old friends everyday, but he was getting more and more busy with his own life; it was something he feared he would do, but he slowly stopped talking in the group chat. His connections with Aiden and Ashlyn still remained, so he constantly knew what they were doing, but not the rest…
“[College is alright so far, some of my friends are even sharing a dorm with me!]” Ben typed on his text to speech, smiling at his parents.
“Well that’s wonderful Benny! We’re just happy you finally found something to love as equally as singing.” His dad spoke, grunting as he got pushed.
“Psh, please! You would’ve been better as a cook! Right pops!” Lily spoke. Ben rolled his eyes as he watched his dad and her play push each other off camera while his mom chuckled at them.
“Ugh, these two never stop fooling around, why did my normal baby have to leave me alone with these knuckleheads?”
“Hey! I am a normal child! Ben’s always using that text to speech feature like he’s some lizard person! He knows how to sign, he’s just trying to mind control us into following his lizard leader!!” Lily argued off screen.
“[If I’m a lizard then you’re a weasel!]” Ben typed on his phone. He heard his little sister laugh off screen, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He still couldn’t believe she’ll be graduating soon, he remembered her being a baby like it was yesterday!
“Well, we must be heading out now, Lily’s rehearsal starts soon. We’ll talk to you later! Bye bye my sweet baby!!” His mom spoke, waving goodbye to him. Ben smiled as he waved bye, hanging up on the call. He sighed as he got up, deciding he needed a quick treat.
‘To the bakery shop it is.’ he thought, grabbing his wallet and keychain.
(1/?)
(spare you the horror angst for now...)
(...NO THIS ONE IS PRETTY TAME,,, I'm talking about a Logan angst fic I got prepared,,,infection,,,,,,,,,,heheheheheheh)
#school bus graveyard#webtoon#ashlyn banner#logan fields#aiden clark#ben clark#taylor hernandez#tyler hernandez#Ben angst#angst fic#fanfiction wars??#HELP WHAT IS HAPPENING FR#This fandom is amazing#I'm bored
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writing a oneshot about a very specific scene and suddenly there’s so much worldbuilding about Houses and Lordships and Family Magics and we’re at *checks notes* 2.6k words and the prompt hasn’t even been touched yet 💀💀 like i could take this and plop it into any other postwar fic, and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
i am,,,,very consciously not complaining because of how much fun i’m having (after a long time) and i do not want to jinx myself into forced-writing again. but by god, my ability to spin bullshit astounds me sometimes.
#it’s just the golden trio being cute and talking so far#ron & hermione are educating harry about the wizarding world’s traditons#traditions*#poor baby’s working thru grief and guilt + emotional numbness#and bam comes sirius’ name#anyway it’s all very fun and after i’m done we gotta do a review#to see if something needs to go to the graveyard#i started off in a very different format than i’ve done before#also i’m writing in present tense!! realised my tense switching is giving me a headache so i’m trying to do sumn about it in the beginning#anyway yeah just wanted to put this here bc i’ve been whining about not liking my stuff for the past few days#and this is not like that!!!#pen’s writing
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overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#fnaf smut#fnaf movie#fnaf x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader
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Jazz was, at her core, a pessimist.
Oh sure, she wanted the best outcomes and strived to always see the best in people.
But listening to her parents talk about and share crime scene photos of someone who was brutally murdered and who may haunt the place they were headed to while true crime podcasts played instead of road trip tunes as they traveled to whatever graveyard had caught their interest had dulled young Jazz's faith in humanity.
Jazz still had memories of a young her standing in an abandoned insane asylum (or abandoned hospital, or old house, or graveyard, or whatever place they dragged her too) holding a small torch with shaky hands and begging to leave because she was terrified "Can we go? Please? this place is scaring me" only to be told "In a minute Jazzy, we down want the ghost getting away."
They had settled down after Danny was born, choosing to stay in one placed instead of traveling all over the country.
She still expected them to unexpectedly announce that they were going on the road again, she had plans in case they did (saying she'd stay behind with the van to take care of Danny was better then both of them getting used as ghost bait)
But surprisingly they didn't.
And Jazz was thrilled.
Sure, she and Danny were known as the kids of the towns crazy ghosthunters, and sure, she basically had to raise her brother since her parents would rarely leave their lab let alone focus on something not ghost related, and yes, she did have to carefully plan out how to use the family's money so that none of them starved.
But no more sleeping in cheap hotels or their van, no more making friends at playgrounds that she'd never see the next day, no more countless hours spent in places where people died, no more English lessons while on the road.
She went to school now, she had friends that she saw more than once, she had a home that wasn't filled with cockroaches and the sounds of a argument from the room next door.
She had a semi-normal life.
In this time of normality, she relaxed, she let her guard down.
Then Danny died and only came back halfway.
And Jazz was back to being that little girl who was scared of ghosts, only this time she was scared for a ghost.
Danny didn't tell her at first, and even though it hurt she understood, and so while she waited for him to tell her, she planned.
She took job after job, from mowing someone's lawn to working at a checkout.
Money had been put aside in bags filled with clothes and a pair of new id that she had gotten from Tucker, ("Just in case our parents get classified as supervillains and we need to flee" She said not giving anyway that she knew of Danny's ghostly problem, Tucker had made the id anyway even if he thought she was joking and did not in fact have a plan should that situation happen)
One of their neighbors was willing to let her buy their old car despite her family's driving history.
A safe house (more like safe apartment) was bought in the only place that was willing to let a teen buy property, Gotham City.
Danny fought numerous enemies until the only enemy that was left was telling their ghost hunter parents that their son was half dead.
Compared to her, Danny was an optimist, seeing the best in everyone without even having to try like she did.
Believing that the best would happen like if he didn't, he would break into a million pieces and not know how to put himself together again.
Even though he was scared Danny believed that their parents wouldn't react badly, Jazz hoped they wouldn't but was prepared if they did.
And finally, after many nights spent wide awake in case her parents tried to rip Danny apart molecule by molecule while she slept, the shoe dropped.
Their parents loved them, but their work came first, it always came first.
Jazz loved her parents, she truly did, but she loved Danny more.
And in the end, that made her choice of driving all the way to Gotham with nothing but their go bags all the more easier.
And that was how Jazz and Danny ended up as the neighbors of one Jason Todd.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom#jazz fenton#Jason todd#Jack and Maddie were traveling ghosthunters#and that gave Jazz trauma#They did have a youtube ghost hunting channel that had many comments worrying if Jazz was okay#Another way this could go is if the ghosts of the haunted places the fentons visited saw them and went#“we can be better parents then these two”#and just adopt Jazz and then later Danny#I realize now that this whole thing is kind of a slightly scrambled word vomit and probably doesn't make much sense
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What's Mine
Dean Winchester x Reader
You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you
The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.
“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.
“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”
You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.
“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.
You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”
Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.
You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?
You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.
You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.
—--------------
Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?
He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.
He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”
—-------------
After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.
When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.
The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”
You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.
“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”
—------------
Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.
He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”
The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”
—-----------------
What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”
Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.
You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.
“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.
Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”
You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.
He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”
He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.
You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”
Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”
You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.
You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”
The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.
—-------------
You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.
“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”
He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”
He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”
—--------------
He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”
His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.
Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.
“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.
He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.
—--------------
You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”
He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.
“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.
Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.
—------------
You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.
Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”
His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.
He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.
—----------------
He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.
After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”
You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”
#dean winchester smut#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#spn fanfiction
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Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
To shades of grey.
#good omens#good omens meta#the resurrectionists#aziraphale#crowley#elspeth and wee morag#heaven and hell#shades of grey
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Comforting your tears-BG3
If they found you crying
Ugh I know my old friends are sick of this prompt because I’ve probably done it one hundred times..but can you blame me??
Before reading: gn reader, Angst (if you squint) with comfort, Astarion x reader, Gale x reader, Halsin x reader (separate)
Astarion:
Astarion has shed his fair share of tears in his prolonged life
Not recently, of course (Unless this takes place after a certain quest line…)
And he’s used to seeing others cry, wether they be his conquests when they realize his actual intentions,
Wether he sees a lost child in the night sobbing for his mother,
Wether it be a sad woman mourning a loss in the darkened graveyard
But he’s never seen you cry, and he’s never craved that sight either
He’s not sure why you were crying, and he doesn’t take time to ask you that
Because if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know what to do
He has never once had to comfort another’s tears, and if he ever has, there was always an ulterior motive
But here you were, trying to suck back floods of tears before him
And all he could do was stand still, a small furrow in his brow
In all honesty, he waits for you to do something first
To reach for him, to say his name, anything
Even just telling him to go away would be enough, because it would give him the slightest bit of direction
If you shove him away, without hesitation he shall flee
But if you move the slightest bit, he rushes to your side
His hand twitch as they hold you, not knowing if this is truly what you need to feel better
But perhaps, these hands which have killed many,
Can also comfort.
Gale:
Similar to Astarion, he’s not quite sure what the best remedy for a broken heart is
But he is a lot less clueless
When he sees you, he wishes so badly to take all of your pain and inflict it onto himself
He’d rather die than see you like this again
He thinks back to his youth, how his mother would confer him when he would cry or become upset
He also thinks ‘How would I want to be comforted?” Only to be bombarded with thoughts of Tara purring sleepily in his lap
So that wasn’t gonna work
He silently takes you in his arms, rubbing loving circles into your back
He kisses your temple, whispering ‘What’s wrong?’ Into your ear
If you shake your head or don’t respond, he’s not going to push you for any more information
If you begin to tell him, he listens diligently, not interrupting you
He rocks you back and forth, hoping he’s helping you in some way
My bro is trying his best 💪
Halsin:
Halsin is easier than the other two because omg he’d be the best at comforting you
Like Gale, he would just scoop you up in his arms and shower you with affection
He’s also a very smooth talker
You need him to distract you? He already has a story to tell you
You need him to whisper loving nothings into your ear? He’s gonna make it his life goal to make your cheeks grow red
He takes your hand in his, placing it atop of his chest, allowing you to feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing
This is something he does often, waiting for you to follow suit
Times like these are precious to him, because it shows him that you feel able to be vulnerable around him
In his eyes, vulnerability is so beautiful, even if it leaves your face tear stained and red
He presses his lips to your temple, lingering for a long moment
He wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while
Thanks for reading!!
#x reader#fanfic#fyp#candyk0rn#baldurs gate fanfic#Baldurs Gate 3#baldurs gate headcanons#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate gale#baldurs gate halsin#astarion x reader#bg3 gale#Gale x reader#Halsin x reader#bg3#tav#x y/n#x tav
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the art of obsession | kim taehyung
summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.
✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]
✎ 17.4K words
“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.
The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.
Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.
With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.
You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.
As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.
He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.
“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.
“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”
At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”
“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”
Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”
You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.
You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.
All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.
Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.
At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.
In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.
Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.
The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.
You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.
The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.
There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.
“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”
The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”
You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”
“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.
“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”
Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.
What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?
These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.
You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.
You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.
You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.
He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.
The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.
Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.
You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.
The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.
He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.
At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.
“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.
“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.
Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”
His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.
“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.
“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”
Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.
It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.
Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.
It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.
“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”
He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“
“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”
“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.
Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”
“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”
“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”
“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.
As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.
Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.
He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.
“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”
You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”
Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”
The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.
“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”
His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“
“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”
Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.
Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.
He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.
With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.
Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.
They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.
Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.
That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”
“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.
“My name is—“
“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”
You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”
“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”
He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”
“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”
You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”
“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”
He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.
“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”
You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”
It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”
The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”
“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.
You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.
Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.
He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.
It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.
“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.
When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”
For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.
At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.
A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.
A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.
His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.
The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.
Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.
It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“No.”
He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”
You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.
The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.
When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.
You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.
“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”
“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”
His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”
“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”
“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.
“Are we ready to order?”
Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”
Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.
Why do you ignore me so much?
You’re always too busy painting to notice me?
Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.
It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.
The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.
“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”
“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”
“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”
“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”
“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”
You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.
Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.
A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.
“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.
“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”
He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.
In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”
You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”
He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”
By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.
“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.
“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.
“But what is it that you believe it to be?”
The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.
You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.
There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”
“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.
“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.
“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.
“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”
“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”
Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”
“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”
Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”
A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”
You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”
“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.
How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?
You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”
Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”
His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”
The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.
“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”
Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”
“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”
That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”
A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.
Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”
You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.
“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”
“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”
Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”
The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.
You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.
He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.
The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.
You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.
Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.
A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.
You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.
His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.
With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.
You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”
He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.
Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.
He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.
His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.
"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.
When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.
“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.
There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.
Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.
“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.
There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.
Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.
A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.
“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.
“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.
As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.
Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.
“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.
Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.
“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”
“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.
Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.
“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.
Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.
Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”
“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.
“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.
“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”
He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.
Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.
“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”
You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”
“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.
For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”
“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”
“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”
It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.
“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”
The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.
You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.
It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.
There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.
His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”
Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”
Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”
Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”
“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”
There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.
It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.
The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.
Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.
You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.
Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.
“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.
You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”
You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.
Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”
He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”
“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”
“Can I watch?”
Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.
By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.
It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.
Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.
Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.
You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.
Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.
“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.
You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”
Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”
Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”
“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”
“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”
“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”
“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.
“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”
Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.
Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.
There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.
After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”
“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”
You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.
There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.
He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”
“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”
All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.
It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard
“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.
A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”
It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.
It was you.
You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.
Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.
“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.
“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].
“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.
“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”
Kim Namjoon.
Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.
“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.
Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.
Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”
Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”
Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.
You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”
“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”
“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”
“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”
His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”
“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”
A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”
You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.
Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”
“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.
“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.
“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.
There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.
“Namjoon.”
He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?
“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”
The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”
“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”
Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”
Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”
He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”
“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?
Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.
“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”
“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”
Namjoon didn’t get it.
So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?
Was it not that you might love each other?
Was it just that you two understood each other?
He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.
It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?
Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?
How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?
::.
okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.
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#kim taehyung#bts taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung au#taehyung#taehyung imagine#Taehyung fic#Taehyung fanfic#taehyung oneshot#taehyung one shot#taehyung x reader#taehyung x oc#Taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#bts angst#bts fic#bts imagines
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we need a dj leah fic
i know nothing about dj-ing so this is all y'all get lmao
hobbies II l.williamson
"lee? baby i'm home!" you called out, kicking off your shoes and shrugging off your jacket at the door. though when you received no response you frowned, walking further into your home.
"babe? leah?" you continued to call out, popping your head into the bedroom and the living room but finding no trace of the blonde. her car was in your driveway and unless you'd missed something you weren't aware of her having an event or plans tonight.
"oh here you are." you sighed in relief finally finding her in the kitchen. "baby?" you called out, dropping your bag on the counter. "lee?" you called again, the girl bopping her head focused on something else, headphones covering her ears.
you paused for a moment eyes falling to the sliver of her abs visible where her shirt had ridden up, waistband of her boxers poking out from her pants as her tanned and toned arms flexed while she messed about with whatever was in front of her.
"leah!" you yelled louder, smacking your hand on the counter a few times as your girlfriend finally glanced up, flinching a little in shock at the sight of you stood there. "hi gorgeous, didn't hear you come in." she pulled her headphones down to her ears with a smile.
"missed you." she attached to you right away with a soft smile, attacking your face with kisses before finally rewarding you with a real one, tugging you around the counter to where she previously stood.
"yeah no wonder you didn't hear me. what the hell is all this?" you frowned seeing her messing about with her laptop and some sort of board full of buttons. "dj pad." leah gave you a toothy grin, wrapping you in a hug, your head resting against her chest as you stared down at her latest hobby.
"oh leah." you sighed as she let you go, tenderly kissing the side of your head. "what?" she smiled, ducking down to kiss you properly, sending your head into a spin as her tongue swiped your bottom lip but you forced yourself to pull away.
"you always do this!" you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter beside her laptop. "do what!" leah frowned, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow sent your way.
"you invest in some sort of hobby, do it for a week or two and then it joins your graveyard of dead interests and you move onto something else. then the cycle repeats!" you shook your head knowingly.
"i do not!" leah scoffed in offence as you now raised an eyebrow at her, jumping down from the counter. "come with me my love, let's go on a little house tour." you smiled holding our your hand, leah pulling off her headphones with a roll of her eyes and leaving them by the dj pad as her slender fingers interlocked with yours.
"example one; the hoverboard." you gestured to the item sitting abandoned in the corner of the living room, untouched for years now. "babe everyone bought those during lock down!" leah defended as you hummed.
"example two; the indoor golf set." you kicked the box sat with her trainers. "i still use that." leah protested as you fixed her with a firm look. "you've used it like four times if you're lucky."
"example three; the knitting!" leah followed you into her study as you yanked open one of her desk drawers and pointed to the abandoned bundle of wool and needles. "excuse me? i made you a blanket and that blanket was made with love." leah scowled as you shut the drawer.
"a baby blanket maybe it was like four poorly finished squares lee it could cover my ankles if i'm lucky." you chuckled moving to the large wall to wall bookshelf as leah scoffed. "psychology!" you continued, waving to the five or six huge textbooks your girlfriend was yet to even touch let alone crack open.
"hey i could still read those, that doesn't count."
"but will you? signs point to no." you sighed with a shake of your head, ignoring your girlfriends hand swatting at your bum with an unimpressed huff at your tone.
"the VR goggles?"
"they gave me a headache!"
"the drumming pads?"
"okay those were an impulse buy."
"gardening? the veggie patch?"
"our garden is immaculate!"
"yes it is, because i'm the one who looks after it and actually keeps it alive baby. the video camera?"
"hey i made the cutest video with that last year, it isn't my fault i lost the charger."
"do i need to continue baby or are you seeing the pattern now?" you challenged with a smile, swinging leahs hand back and forth which was still linked with yours.
"okay maybe i can be a little bit impulsive. but life is too short not to enjoy simple pleasures babe, even just for a moment." using your interlocked hands she tugged your body into hers, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb pulled down your bottom lip before it snapped back up with a small pop.
"did you learn that in one of your self help books?" you grinned right as she leaned in to kiss you, head flicking back to the bookshelf. "shut up, but i'm getting pretty good! come." with that she lead you out of the office and back to the kitchen.
"leah!" you laughed as she effortlessly picked you up by the waist and sat you back on the counter. "listen." she carefully slid her headphones over your ears, pecking your lips a few times and focusing back on the dj pad.
your lips curled into a smile as you adjusted her headphones, wincing a little as a loud beat sounded in your ears, and you tried not to laugh at how your girlfriends eyebrows furrowed together as she pushed and prodded at the different buttons.
"see? not too bad eh!" leah stopped after a few minutes and you tugged the headphones down. "wait that was it?" you frowned, leahs mouth dropping into a small o at your words. "that was like someone beat boxing without a sense of rhythm. babe that was so bad!" you laughed honestly, covering your smile with your hand.
"baby!" leah whined, smacking your leg and crossing her arms. "what? do you want me to lie?" you grinned as she pulled her headphones off you with a huff. "don't quit your day job for the ibiza circuit just yet sweets, you're no fred again." you continued to tease as you patted her shoulder.
"hey it's really hard okay! these stupid programs i downloaded are no help either." leah pouted with another huff. you held up a finger for her to wait, lifting your hips to pull your phone out of your back pocket.
"here baby, one more for your bookshelf."
"how to dj for idiots and dummies."
"cheeky girl." leah tutted, slotting herself in between your legs as her hands slid up and down your legs which wrapped around her waist. "have you figured out your dj name yet?" you grinned, getting your words out in between the lingeringly soft kisses the taller blonde was leaving on your lips.
"no, got any suggestions?" leah chuckled, closing her eyes as your mouth pulled away from hers and focused on her neck, her hands gripping your hips and pulling your body closer into hers as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of her favorite perfume.
"i think dj hold the mayo williamson will do numbers in ticket sales."
"oh really? think i might need a tour manager love."
"aren't you lucky, you've got the best in the business right in front of you."
"mmm i haven't done any gigs yet gorgeous, afraid i can't pay you."
"oh don't you worry williamson, i think we can work some sort of arrangement out."
#leah williamson x reader#woso x reader#woso#woso blurbs#engwnt#leah williamson#woso imagine#woso fanfics
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How To Always Have Writing Ideas…
For A New Story:
1. Keep a list. Any time you have one of those sudden bursts of inspiration in the middle of writing a separate story, don’t quit your current WIP or pretend you’ll ‘just remember it’, put it into a separate list. You can always go back to this later on
2. Writing prompts. Look them up, use random word generators, pick a random object you can see, whatever helps you come up with any idea at all. Write a few paragraphs. Can it evolve from there?
3. People watch. Go to a public place and make up backstories for the strangers you come across. That man in the hat is using it to hide his elf ears. That woman with the bright pink hair didn’t dye it, she’s secretly the main character of an anime trying to dodge all the tropes and cliches. That toddler is actually a guardian angel reincarnated to watch over their new baby sibling. What brings them to this place? Where did they come from? Where are they going next?
To Continue An Existing Story:
1. Act it out. Say the words aloud, act out what your characters are doing, get props or people to act off of if you need to. See what feels like the most natural progression of the moment
2. Coffee shop AU, or other substitutional one-shot. Good for establishing dynamics between two or more characters, or even just working out a lone character’s day-to-day. Just write a few paragraphs about your characters entering a coffee shop or similar appropriate establishment/ordinary location. What do they do? What do they order to eat/drink? What do they say to each other? How do they treat the staff and other customers? If all else fails, write what they do after they leave, as if it were an ordinary day for them
3. Rubber duck it. This is something programmers use to work out where they went wrong in their code, but I’ve found it can work for figuring out story stuff as well. What you do is get a rubber duck, or any other object of focus, and start explaining your problem to it out loud. In this case you can read your chapter to the duck, or even give it the full run-down of the plot so far. Warning; side effects may include getting frustrated that the problem was right in front of you and subsequently throwing the duck
For Both:
1. Writing graveyards. I talked a bit about them in a previous post, but writing graveyards are basically just the folder you store your deleted scenes in instead of yeeting them into the void. Reread those, see if they have anything you can recontextualise or repurpose
2. Combine ideas. My WIP Byoldervine is a combination of two separate plots I had that I realised I’d be able to combine - twice. I first realised I could put together my ‘angel and demon heroes protecting humans from a war between heaven and hell’ story and my ‘quest through the fantasy realm to find the ingredients to a cure for a dying god’ story into the same universe as two sides of the same story as a duology. Then I realised I could just remove a few characters, tweak a few plot points and mash them completely together into one book. Combining them works wonders and minimises worldbuilding
3. Go out with friends or family. I guarantee that the one time you’ll be flooded with inspiration is when you don’t have an opportunity to write it down
#writing#writers#bookblr#writeblr#book#writersociety#writersnetwork#writers of tumblr#writer#writing advice#on writing#writing inspiration#writing tips#writing tips and tricks#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity
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Helloooo can I request single dad Toji living with his son megumi but then neighbor reader moves in and yk HAHHAHAH anyways love ur works
Hi!! Okay, okay, okay SOOOOO cute 🥰 I LOVE this trope sooooo much. Thank you smmm anon 💕💕 I have the smexiest ask in my inbox rn, so I thought I would start with some innocent fluff 🤭
Toji is like... super down bad in this one btw
One and a Half Men □○
Toji swore off of dating the day he became a single father. Never again, he told himself. He was too busy. Too preoccupied. Too grown to be playing a twenty-something year old's game. It was evident by his whisps of gray hair, earned over the three and a half challenging years of fatherhood.
When Megumi was first born, Toji found him and his bundle of joy a nice enough apartment, conveniently next to an uninhabited one so Megumi's cries wouldn't wake up any neighbors. Toji kept his head down and focused on what he needed to do. He worked, he took care of his baby boy, and he just kept moving forward.
And he kept good on his promise... very good. Until you showed up.
"Oh, good morning Megumi! Hi Mr. Toji, how are you guys doing today?"
There you were. A beautiful, shining sweetheart, kind and angelic down to your very core. A college student, roughly twenty years old, full of life and hope and love. And the Fushiguro's neighbor of six months.
"I told ya' a million times doll, don't call me Mr. Anything. Makes me feel older than I already am." Toji can't help the way his heart pulses in his chest everytime you flash that bright smile his way. He wishes he could.
"Okay, Mr. Toji." You giggle him off, shrugging away his gruff tone as Megumi let's go of his dad's finger and starts waddling over to you, the smallest smile parting his chubby cheeks.
"Hi y~y/n. M'mmorning. I have new shirt." Megumi makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand with one of his while the other stretches the fabric of his yellow and blue t-shirt towards you, showing it off.
"Oh wow! I see! You look very dapper this morning, Megumi!" Toji watches as you crouch down in front of Megumi, absent-mindedly patting down the raven strands of hair protruding out of the little boys' scalp
Hm, Toji thinks, watching as you blabber back and forth with the little man, smile widening more and more with every word Megumi stumbles out.
A buzzing notification from his phone distracts him from the heartwarming scene. Fuck, graveyard shift tonight.
"Well, I'm very glad you like it, you look suuuuper handsome, just like your daddy." Toji's ears perk up when he hears that. He let's a smirk slip when he realizes you're already looking at him, holding little Gumi's hand.
Hearing Megumi's quiet giggles reminds him of his current conundrum. He doesn't have anyone to look after Megumi tonight.
"Um hey, y/n, are you busy tonight?" Toji scratches the back of his neck, keeping a cool composure as his heart picks up speed.
"No, I don't think so! Why?" You stand up, caressing Megumi's head when he clings to your legs.
"I don't like asking for favors, but could you watch Megumi tonight? I'll pay ya." Toji ignores Megumi's excited squeal at the mention of spending the night at your place, knowing at this rate, he would probably have the same reaction.
"Oh my god, I'd love to! You really don't have to pay me, it would be my pleasure. He's such a little gentleman." Almost as excited as Megumi, you agree, softly squeezing the toddler's tiny shoulders.
You say your goodbyes, explaining how you need to run to the store and that Toji can drop Megumi off whenever.
As you wave goodbye, Megumi turns back to his daddy, huge smile overtaking his dumpling face.
"Yay, tank you dada! I wuv y/n, so nice and pretty." Toji has never seen his little boy so excited.
"Yeah, me too, little guy." Toji mused, walking down the apartment building's hallway, distracted by confirming his shift with his boss.
"Dada wove y/n too?" Megumi mumbles to himself, looking up at his dad with bright, hopeful eyes.
"Uhm, huh? Uh she's a very nice young lady, Megs." Realizing what he said, he backtracks, distracting Megumi with under chin tickles.
"Okay Dada." Megumi giggles, scrunching his chin to his chest, trying to stop the tingles infecting his little body.
...
Megumi was quick to warm up to you when you first moved in. It was just something about you. Maybe it was the same thing that had Toji head over heels the moment he first talked to you.
You were so refreshing to be around. Both Toji and Megumi were so used to only having each other. A young, smiling, motherly woman was such a fulfilling person to have around. Like a missing piece. Your presence was magnetic to the small family, both of them adoring you, only in different ways.
Everything about you was so beautiful. It almost made Toji nervous...
"Dada... knock knock." Megumi pulls Toji's hand towards your door, reminding him of the task at hand.
"You got it bud." Toji picks Megumi up under his armpits, letting him do the knocking.
Immediately, the door swings open, revealing a smiling you, clad in a flimsy tank top and baggy sweatpants.
"Megumi!!" You exclaim, laughing as the little boy grabs your neck and transfers himself into your arms.
"Yayyayayay, y/n!" Megumi squeezes you before turning to his dad.
"Bye bye, dada. Night night." Megumi immediately waves to his dad, almost kicking him out.
"Hold on, little man. Let me talk to y/n for a minute." Toji huffed a laugh as you smiled, moving to the side to let him in.
Toji declined coming in, explaining that he didn't want to intrude. He began explaining that Megumi was due for sleep, saying how it's already way past his bedtime. You point to your room, assuring him that Megumi would be sleeping like a king and that you were drowning in school work, too much to worry about sleeping on the couch.
Toji nodded along, beginning to tune your melodic voice out as he observed the way a sleepy Megumi snuggled into your neck, and the way your hand cradled his head, carding through his messy hair.
"Okay, well, I don't want to keep you too long, Toji! Megumi is safe and sound, and will be asleep verrryyy soon." You tease the little boy, knowing that he's already fighting sleep, dozing off on your shoulder.
Toji smiled when he didn't hear an honorific before his name. Your body froze up as he moved unbelievably close to you, face rubbing against yours as he cups the back of Megumi's head, kissing him goodnight.
"Thanks again, text me if you need anything. Be a good boy Gumi, love ya." Toji waves goodbye as you close the door, turning in your place to take a deep breath, feeling your heated cheeks with the back of your hand, pulling yourself together. What a man.
Your fan-girling subsides when you feel a yawn against your neck, reminding you of the exhausted little boy in your arms.
"Let's get you to bed, buddy. We can have fun in the morning, okay?" You feel a mumble on your skin as you walk to your room, taking in the little boys matching pajamas, little toes covered with fluffy socks. Your heart melts in your chest. How cute.
"Alright, there we go. All set, bud?" You smile down at Megumi tucked in your pink bedding, little head resting on your memory foam pillow.
"Back rub, please?" Megumi pleads, instinctively rubbing his scalp with flat hands. That's where the messy hair comes from.
"Okay, bud." You soften your voice as the boy rolls around in your bed, laying on his chubby little tummy.
He hums happily when he feels the weight of your hand on his back, making grabby hands at your unoccupied one, asking to hold it.
"Dada woves you. He said so to me." Megumi smiles softly, squeezing you hand.
"Oh! Um... oh! He said that?" A wave of shock and flush runs through your body, chest and face heating up.
"Mhm. He thinks you're pretty. I think he wants- marry you." Gumi goes rouge as sleep clouds his little mind, cutting into his own sentences.
"Allrrighhtt Megs... let's focus on bedtime, okay?" You giggle out, feeling like a schoolgirl after hearing the unreliable narrator's thoughts.
"Mmh, okay. Night night, Mama."
...
You didn't get a lick of sleep. How could you? Piles of work was banging at your brain, but the only thing you could think of was Toji and Megumi. Mama.
Pulling at your face, you snap out of your panicked thoughts when you hear a door open and the weight of a tiny body running to your couch. Looking up, your heart breaks in half.
"Y/nnn, bad dreammm. I had bad dream." Megumi sobs out, hands seeking comfort in his hair rubbing his head in agony. His face is puffy and red as tears run down his chubby cheeks, sniffing and crying.
"Oh Gumi, I'm sorry baby... here, come here honey." Climbing onto the couch, Megumi rushes into your arms, holding onto you like you would disappear. Sighing, you stand up with the little boy koala bear-ing you, pacing back and forth as you hush him.
Gazing at the time displayed on the oven, you see that it's already four in the morning. Megumi burrows himself into your body, getting as close as possible to you, seeking the maternal comfort your provide.
"M so sleepy. Don't wanna be by myself." Megumi eventually sighs after tiring himself out, fidgeting with the strap of your tank top.
"Let's sit down, okay bubs? Let's just take some deep breaths." You feel like a nervous wreck, hoping you're comforting Megumi well enough, not fully knowing what to do.
Sitting back down, you pat his back, resting your head on the back of the couch. The weight of Megumi's tired head on your chest grounds you. As you begin dozing off, you feel Megumi's grip on you relax, signaling his sleep.
Exhaling, you rest your arms around the resting lump, finally letting sleep overtake you.
...
Bright and early, you're awoken by the sounds of cabinets opening and closing. You freak out, thinking someone was ransacking your apartment before you open your eyes to see a little body wandering around your kitchen.
"Thirsty." Was the only explanation you get from the messy haired boy as he continued look for a glass.
Pouring him a glass of water, you place him on a chair in your small kitchen, starting his breakfast.
Megumi mumbles to himself as you prepare his scrambled eggs, keeping himself entertained. As you sit across from him, placing his plate in front of him, he smiles and thanks you quietly before digging in.
You drink your coffee, enjoying the peace and quiet provided by Megumi's preoccupied mind...
"Y/n?"
"Yes, Gumi?"
"Do you love dada?"
Megumi brings it up again. Great. Nosey little boy.
"Because I want a mommy. And you're good at it. I think you should be my mama."
"Hey, Gumi, what's your favorite dinosaur?" You blurt out, stopping the conversation as soon as possible.
The little boy glares at you, too smart to be tricked, but giving in anyway.
"T-rex."
...
"Dada! Y/n took good care of me!" Megumi sung the highest of praises when you opened the door to an exhausted Toji.
"I'm sure she did! I hope he didn't give you too much trouble." Toji teased, seeing the dark bags manifesting under your eyes.
"No, not at all, he's a very good boy." You smiled giving Megumi one last hug before he grabbed onto his dad's thumb.
"Thank you so much again, really it means the world to us." Toji reminded you, pulling a fifty out of his pocket, almost begging you to take it. You insisted on him keeping it, joking that the economy is too tough to be stealing his money. Saying their final goodbyes, Toji and Megumi left you alone with your thoughts.
Oh my god. Toji looked so good. His sweatshirt made his already huge frame look unbelievably broader, looking so protective as he held onto his little boy at your door.
You needed him. Bad. And it freaked the shit out of you.
Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo
*PART TWO IS NOW UP!!!!!* https://www.tumblr.com/sillysillygoofygoose/740703539826917377/one-and-a-half-men-one?source=share
#fem reader#jjk x reader#size difference#age difference#jjk#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji zenin#toji headcanons#toji x you#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#💗asks💗
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HELLOO COULD I request earth 42 miles morales saving reader from someone who tried to kidnap them and what he does after? Hope ur havin a gud day
Here
Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader
Earth 42!Miles Morales x black!reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Langauge, mentions of death, a tiny bit of nudity, and mentions of violence
Requested: yes
A/N: OKAY ONE REQUEST DOWN MANY MORE TO GO. I wrote most of this sleep deprived on a plane so it might not flow the best but I tried. Still wanna try out headcannons so I might use that format for another request. I'm almost at 200 followers tysm I might do a prompt list and blurb night type thing.
300 Follower Special <3
Masterlist
“I’m gonna kill him.” Miles declared a little too calmly for Y/N’s liking. He looked for his shoes so he could get out of there.
Her heart had finally slowed enough to process what had just happened, the adrenaline wearing off.
Y/N worked the graveyard shift at a gas station a couple of blocks from her apartment complex. She had to save up for school and it rarely got busy that late. It wasn’t a bad deal.
She emptied out the register, but before taking out the trash, she texted Miles to see how far he was.
He always walked her home from work, however today she felt especially tired and Miles wasn’t answering his phone and it was barely a 10-minute walk to her apartment.
What she hadn’t expected was for someone to try and grab her on the way home, Miles had shown up at the exact right time to scare him off.
“Miles,” She called softly, using her voice to beg him to look at her. After a moment's hesitation, he finally looked over at her curled up at the edge of her bed.
He was so angry he was shaking. He snapped at Y/N on the way to her apartment he wasn’t mad at her but he needed someone to be mad at.
“Can you please come sit down?” She patted the spot on the bed beside her. He continued to pace around her room as if he were looking for something.
“Miles,” she begged again.
“I have to do something,”
“Just sit down,” The shakiness in her voice seemed to get him to listen. She grabbed the hand closest to her and held it tightly in her own, before leaning into his side.
She inhaled deeply, relaxing into his warmth and earthy scent.
“Don’t go, won’t change anything,”
“What would’ve happened if I wasn’t there?”
“But you were,” She reminded him.
“You could’ve been killed or worse.” He said. “And you want me to just do nothing?”
“I don’t want you to leave,” She countered. “Need you to stay with me,”
“I’m so sorry I was late,” He kissed her hand. Miles rarely apologized even when he absolutely should so she knew he meant it.
“Not your fault baby,” She mumbled into his shoulder to which he huffed incredulously. “I mean it.”
Instead of corroborating his innocence, he shed light on his thoughts.
“I keep thinking about you dying and it’s all because I didn’t get to you fast enough.” He sighed. “I can’t lose you too.”
Ever since his father's passing Miles had some pretty big shoes to fill. Head of the house, the son of a late police captain, but never just a kid.
Sucking in a breath Y/N immediately shifted her body to grab Miles’ face. She pressed his ear over her heart letting him listen to the continuous thump.
“I’m alive,” She whispered for only him to hear. “I’m right here.”
He twisted himself to hide his face in her chest and wrap his arms tightly around her waist, she ran her hands over the hair at the back of his head humming a song. Miles spoke up never moving his face “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,”
With a smile never stilling her hand movements she responded. “You don’t have to be a big macho man all the time you know?”
He finally released her with a small dismissive yeah. She pushed herself off the edge of her bed with a groan, bending backward to stretch her back. Miles leaned back on his elbows to watch her.
She made her way over to her dresser before he sat up and then spoke up. “Where you going?”
“I wanna take a shower,” She answered grabbing a plain cotton shirt and some underwear. “I feel dirty,”
He seemed content with her answer and leaned back on his elbows again. “Will you come with me?”
He raised his eyebrow suggestively before she laughed and threw the shirt at him.
“Not like that,” She clarified “You’ll just sit there. I don’t wanna be alone.”
He nodded grabbing the shirt off his chest before following her to the bathroom.
The stuffy humid air surrounded Miles as he sat patiently on her toilet seat.
“You still here?” You called over the running water.
“Yeah babe, still here.”
“Can you talk to me?”
“What’you want me to say?”
“I dunno,” She shrugged despite the fact he couldn’t see her behind the shower curtain. “Just tell me about your day,”
He told her about how in AP BIO they did fetal pig dissections and he got to cut into the brain. By the end of his spiel, she was listening to the creaky twisting of the knob to turn the water off. After asking for the towel she was making him turn around so she could get dressed shushing him before he could make an offhand comment.
He followed her back to her room pulling her comforter back so she could slip in. The second she hit the cool sheets her eyes fluttered shut, sleep dragging her down. He tucked her in, and before he moved to grab her bonnet she gripped his arm keeping him still.
“Don’t go home”
“I won’t, I’m just gonna grab your bonnet, swear,”
“Mhm,” She agreed, releasing his arm and curling in on herself.
He slipped into the bed next to her wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his chest. She let out a hum of discomfort before turning to face him, her eyes still shut.
Miles stayed still watching her until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed. Shuffling onto his side to reach into his pocket he pulled his phone out pausing when she stirred at the noise.
Opening the messages app he swiped on his uncle's contact texting him
Some white guy in Bushwick green civic and skull neck tattoo. Call me when you find him.
Shutting his phone off with a click he readjusted himself.
Y/N could say whatever she wanted he was going to kill that man.
©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom
#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales#prowler!miles#prowler!miles x reader#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x fem!reader#miles morales x black!reader#miles morales fluff#miles morales angst#miles morales smut#hannah responds ღ#hannah speaks ღ#miles morales x reader
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Pitch Black (Astarion x Reader)
TW - panic attack, claustrophobia, themes of death/rotting
I based this off some sad lore I found out about him yesterday :(
Recommended Song: Rainy Day Loop - SALES
There's a lot of things Astarion hasn't told you. You don't mind, because a lot of those things are hard to relive. Everything he tells you comes with a price, but he does it mostly out of necessity. There are times you know something lies deeper, and yet you don't pry. It will come to light if he decides it needs to.
However, he never told you about one of the first truly cruel things Cazador did. How one day he refused him, told him no for once. He woke up buried six feet under, starving in undeath for an entire year until his master dug him up again. That was the last time he disobeyed.
This led to a fear he never told you about, claustrophobia, that terrifying feeling of being unable to escape small spaces. He doesn't like closets, this you knew, but you assumed it was because they're dark and sad, not because they're small rooms.
One morning you're sleeping, peaceful, arms wrapped around him tight. He wakes up before you, calm at first. When he realizes his discomfort at feeling trapped in your arms, he gently tries to move you off of him, but you grab back in your slumber, not knowing what's going on beyond the barrier of sleep. That first wave of panic sets in as you wrap yourself tighter than before, and he freezes up, remembering the smell of musty dirt and bones. He tries to scoot away, and you unknowingly pull him in again. That second time is enough for him to feel fully trapped, and without thinking he bites down hard on your arm.
"GODS!"
You bolt up out of your sleep, holding your arm, realizing it was Astarion who caused the sudden alarm. He sits at the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, still trying to ground himself. You try to ask him things, why the hell he'd do that to you, but he can't hear your questions. The worms, the beetles, at some point you become accustomed to the tiniest sounds. He wondered if they'd start to eat away at him, if vampires were like corpses, if he would slowly decompose in the ground. You go to touch his hand and he yanks it away, standing up.
"Astarion!"
And he finally turns to see you on the bed, your arm bleeding badly, how concerned you look. He can't speak though. Footsteps, people passing by, unable to scream because of how tightly packed the sediment is. You try anyways.
"Aster, listen to me. I need you to listen to me, okay?"
You're panicking. You haven't seen him this bad in a while. He's not there, at least not truly there. To be knocked out, only to wake up in pitch black, what a horror.
"I think you're having a panic attack my love, can you try to focus on one thing in the room?"
A painting, a landscape of a graveyard. He was put in a graveyard, some kind of cruel joke. His eyes wander to the frame, golden, like thread. He remembers stitching little phrases and stories into his clothes, he remembers the first time he did such a craft for you. The breathing starts to settle, still shaking, he sits back down next to you, and just starts sobbing. You go to hug him and he flinches.
"No!"
You are almost taken aback, but you remember that it's not your fault.
"Okay, that's okay. I'll just sit here with you."
He just cries for a while, and you let him. Clearly something startled him badly, badly enough that he bit you. You forgot until now that you were bleeding. Not only did his fangs pierce, but many of the rest of his teeth got through the skin. As you're analyzing your wound, you take part of the blanket and press it into your arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Astarion notices the movement, and you see guilt overcome his face immediately. You interrupt before he can speak.
"It's okay darling, I know you didn't mean it."
He wipes at his tears, finally coming back to reality, truly grounding himself.
"I... I'm sorry."
"I know, it's okay."
He stares at a crack in the floorboards.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He nods, mainly because he hates it when you're confused.
"So... a long time ago, Cazador decided it would be fun to bury me alive."
He almost laughs at how ridiculous it is, how someone could even think to do that. You just listen.
"And I stayed there for an entire year. And I don't know how it happened, but you tried to hug me tighter while you were asleep, and I- I just panicked, I felt so trapped and it just reminded me so much of-"
He can't even bring himself to say it again.
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
He scoffs.
"Yeah, you were asleep, and I freaked out like a monster and bit you."
He gazes down at the wound, wincing at what he's done.
"Hey, look at me. Wounds heal, I'll be okay. What matters is that you're okay."
"I... I think I'm okay now. Just, feel miserable."
"That's okay, you're allowed to feel however you want."
"I know. Thank you my sweet."
He picks your hand up off the bed, holding it to his face. It takes weeks after for him to be hugged again, especially being the little spoon, but you don't mind. You'll go through every phase of his, good and bad. This one just happens to be bad, and that's okay. He'll be okay. You'll both be okay.
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Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 1 | Part 2
The customers can usually be separated into 3 categories.
Drunks, students, and weirdos.
Unfortunately for you, lately the weirdos have turned into regulars. But fortunately the weirdos aren't so weird.
The one that made it a habit to check in on you, with the scars and the cheesy wink wasn't so bad. Jack, was it? You can't remember and it's been too long for you to ask. You awkwardly address him as 'you' and avoid any situation where you need to use his name.
He likes to ask how you are, tell a few jokes. Spirit undeterred even when you look at him with a blank face because bless his soul, he's not funny at all but at least he tries and he's a lot less weird than first impression.
He hangs around at odd times, then again you do only work at odd times. Telling you stories about this and that. Something about Big Deal, something about a guy called Sinu and something about another guy called Samuel.
It's difficult to keep track. It's like he wants to talk but he's cryptic and god, it's 4am who can blame you if your eyes are glazing over.
John, or is it Jerry, is waffling again. He seems to always be talking about Samuel. Who he apparently misses and wonders where it's gone wrong and hang on, he's never been explicit but you just had to know.
When he takes a breath to munch on a cookie, you ask, "Hold on, is Samuel your ex?"
Wait no his name is Jason, definitely Jason- freezes mid-chew, "Why would you say that? He's my friend!"
Joshua sprays crumbs all over you but you note how he doesn't say no.
(You think you see this Samuel one early morning. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him before and man, he really looks like shit.
Looks like the breakup is getting to him too.
Poor Samuel and Poor Jim.)
.
.
But sometimes weirdos are just weirdos.
It's ok. It comes with the territory so long as they're not in the habit of hurling abuse or whatever, you can deal with it.
In recent memory, there's only been two people that you have had to almost chase out with a broomstick.
You should have known they would be weirdos when one of them walks in in surprisingly teeny tiny purple camo shorts. Not that you're a pearl clutcher, but you're worried that one wrong move and he could be dangling out.
Besides. Purple. Camo. Shorts. Those words should never follow one after the other, and you repress a shudder at this guy's hideous dress sense when he comes up to you.
You thought the other one was alright, at least there's no hideous purple camo shorts in sight and his hair is nice (huh, this style must be popular, you’ve seen a lot of guys with this hair)-
But then he opens his mouth and asks for snakes and you think it's karma for judging camo-guy for his appearance when his friend is equally odd.
"We usually keep the snakes next to the ramen," you deadpan and the two men actually go to seek out the supposed snake (meat or pet purposes?) only to return moments later, empty-handed and looking confused.
"I think the snake is all sold out," Non-camo guy says as camo-guy glances around as if you might have hidden your snake stock elsewhere.
They must have thought you were stupid as you stood there opening and closing your mouth like a fish (or maybe a snake, do snake do these things), because come on, how are you even supposed to formulate a response to that?
Then you look at their eyes and also notice them looking snakey and surmise it must be some weird fetish thing. Pretending to be snakes and eating snakes and having pet snakes.
You want no part of this and tell them to get out.
.
.
"I'm Baek Hangyeol," a new face says, pointing to his ID badge pinned to the white coat.
"Doctor Baek Hangyeol." He stresses Doctor and Hangyeol and you wonder if he is waiting for a round of applause.
You don't say anything but you do notice he looks like a teenager and what idiot would let a teenager operate on them. (Drunk, student, weirdo. He could be all three.) Doctor Baek Hangyeol must be bluffing.
You decide not to call him on his bullshit.
"Cool," is all you respond with because you don't want another complaint for being too mouthy. You are half tempted to tell him you're not a doctor, that you just work here but that seemed kinda redundant so you keep your mouth shut.
"Do you believe in true beauty?" he asks when you finish bagging up his goods (a plain water with added minerals, a bottle of multivitamins and a protein shake) and you think what sort of question is that.
You give a halfhearted shrug and say "Sure" and he hands his business card over.
"If you're ever considering it," he tells you with a wild smile. After he has left you look down at the lettering, eyes zeroing in on ‘Plastic Surgery’.
Excuse me?! What is he trying to say?
You thought he was a weirdo but now he has firmly shifted over to asshole. You regret not telling him to go fuck himself while you had the chance. The complaint would 100% be worth it. Zero regrets.
On your break, you burn the card and feel a small sense of satisfaction.
.
.
A tall blonde guy with a creepy vibe (hold on, have you seen him before, he seems familiar. Then again, creepy blonde guys seem to be quite common around here-) walks in with the most billowing coat you have ever seen.
The entrance is kinda cool but the actual coat is kinda tragic with the cheesy red lettering and you wonder if you can pull it off any better than him.
You're still wondering about his coat when he's paying you, and hang on you have definitely seen him before because he says arigatou and hands over yen and you tell him no. Won only.
The idea of the coat, which has evolved into you fantasising about having a full blown cape, quickly loses its charm however, when the blonde gets caught in the automatic doors and you have to wrestle them open to free him.
Afterwards, you ask if he's ok, if he is harmed and can’t resist asking if the coat is ok too. You really don't want a lawsuit on your watch especially when the malfunctioning doors are not your fault.
Your kindness is repaid by him telling you he's not interested (what the fuck) and that his heart will not stray (again, what the fuck).
.
.
You accidentally eavesdrop on a couple of students lamenting about missing out on school work. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop ok, the aisles are tight and cramped, it’s a small space.
You peek over, and the one with big ears (seriously, they are huge) is telling the one with his back to you (goodness, his back is huge too) that school is important and he’s got notes the other one can use.
It’s sweet, you think. School is important and it’s good they recognise that. Nice of them to help each other out too.
When they both come to pay (holy shit, that’s a fuckton of chocolate milk), you’re surprised to find Big Ear’s friend, Big Back, looks anywhere between late 20s and early 40s but it’s never too late to catch up on education, you suppose.
You spend the rest of your shift feeling motivated.
.
.
“Going camping?” you ask the guy with the sandy blonde hair, chuckling nervously and ringing his items through.
Either he’s going camping or he’s gonna kill and hide a dead body in the forest.
He’s pretty stoic, only giving you a curt nod. You can’t help but probe him a bit more. You’ve got a feeling that if or when the dead body turns up, you want to at least clear your conscience that you’ve tried your best so you make some more idle small talk.
You mention how you haven’t been camping for ages, not since you nearly burned your tent down and singed your hair after you tried to cook some marshmallows over a fire that turned out to be more of a raging bonfire (and might have awoken your pyromaniac streak, but you keep that to yourself).
The blonde guy actually pipes up and says “Master Taesoo would never do that.”
You almost apologise out of principle due to how earnest he sounds, then he mentions something about how good this Master Taesoo is at catching and cooking snake and you wonder what the fuck is up with people and the snake obsession.
Either way, it doesn’t sound like someone is getting murdered. Only a snake (poor snake) so at least you can sleep easy later that day.
.
.
“Oh hi DG,” you say, “Sorry about your cryptocurrency falling through. Diegocoin was it?”
He blinks at you a few times in surprise and heavens above. What’s that saying, fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you? This guy has fooled you exactly no times with his shitty disguises and his effort has substantially dwindled too.
He has only put his hood up and you did think you might get mugged at one point-
It’s an empty store, for crying out loud. Who comes into an empty store in the asscrack of night with their hood up, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Then you notice the pink hair and shifty glance and duh.
“Is it the-?” he asks, putting his hood down and signalling to his hair.
“Yeah, it’s the-” you signal to your own head of hair. “Dude you really need to dye it if you’re going for subtle.” You pause, consider something, “Hold on.”
You walk over to the beauty aisle and grab the black hair dye.
“On the house,” you tell DG because this guy really has no self awareness.
.
.
“What do you mean no?”
“No." Your boyfriend peers down at you, arms crossed and at the end of his patience with you.
You open your mouth to argue-
“No. You know nothing about Taekwondo. How can you work here?”
You look around helplessly at the studio. He’s not exactly wrong but you’re sick of dealing with the weirdos and the snakes and the creepy blondes. “But your dad-”
“I don’t care what that stupid old man says,”
“Taehoon!” Hansu scolds from the other side of the room, and Hansu's class of toddlers all whirl their head around to stare.
“I can learn?” you offer and Taehoon raises one skeptical brow.
“So you’re going to be a student?” You nod enthusiastically, “And we’re going to pay you for that?”
Oh. Damn.
He’s got you there.
#lookism#lookism x reader#lookism fic#jake kim#jake kim x reader#samuel seo#kwak jichang#kwak jibeom#baek hangyeol#baek hangyul#ryuhei kuroda#jace park#euntae lee#vasco#hudson ahn#diego kang#james lee#seong taehoon#seong taehun#taehoon x reader#wannaeatramyeon#ok ive sorta lost it
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One day, Joe Hills set out with a shovel in his hands. He slung it over one shoulder, whistling as he walked.
“Hey Joe, whatcha got there?” TangoTek asked, carrying blocks of ice.
“Oh, just a shovel.” Joe replied. “But it’s ice to see you, TangoTek.”
TangoTek laughed. Joe laughed. They both walked down the path in opposite directions.
It was a good day for a walk. The birds were singing and the sun was shining. But birds were not the only things singing! Joe walked over a hill to find BdoubleO singing loud and clear as he cut down a tree.
“Sir Joe! How wonderful to see you!” BdoubleO said, wiping away sweat on his face.
“Howdy, BdoubleO, why are you chopping down a tree?” Joe asked. He moved his shovel to his other shoulder so it would not hurt him.
“Why, I am using the wood to build a beautiful house!” BdoubleO said. He had big, twinkling eyes and an even bigger smile. “Why do you have a shovel, Joe?”
“I have a hole I need to dig.” Joe said. “And I must not be late for it. Goodbye!”
“Goodbye Joe!” BdoubleO said, waving.
The day was getting warm, and Joe Hills stopped by a river to get a drink of water. He saw his friend Cubfan at the river too!
“Howdy, Cubfan!” Joe called, waving.
“Hey Joe, whats up?” Cubfan asked. He was holding a raw cod fish and a fist full of glittery red redstone dust.
“I was just taking a break, I’ve been walking for a while today. What are you doing here, Cubfan?” Joe asked.
Cubfan looked all around at the grass and the trees, like he was looking for something in particular. Then he took out five diamonds and gave them to Joe!
“Nothing at all. Got it? If anyone asks, I was drinking from the river, same as you. Alright, man?”
Joe thought the diamonds were a very nice gift, and put them in his pocket. “Thanks, Cubfan! Indeed, I saw nothing!”
Cubfan smiled at Joe- he was always so fun to hang out with. Joe wondered why Cubfan looked like he was sweating.
“So what’s with the shovel, Joe?”
“I have an appointment. Very important stuff.” Joe said. “And I should probably get going before the sun sets! Goodbye, Cubfan! Enjoy your nothing!”
The day was beginning to turn into night. The sky was oranges and reds and pinks. Joe walked a little faster- he didn’t want to be late!
Then he came to a fork in the road, and Joe realized he didn’t know which way to go! He felt sad- was he not going to be able to get where he needed to be on time?
“Hi Joe!” Geminitay said, waving to him. She was walking down one of the paths towards him, carrying a basket full of bright flowers.
“Say, which way is the graveyard?” Joe asked. “I appear to be lost.”
“It’s that way, of course, right through the spooky forest!” Geminitay said, pointing down a dirt path. “But why do you want to go to the graveyard, Joe? It’s so scary there!”
“I have something urgent I must do.” Joe said, shifting the shovel over his shoulder.
Geminitay looked at the shovel, then and Joe, but didn’t ask any questions.
“Well, good luck. Watch out for big scary wolves!”
Joe hurried along the path in the spooky forest. The sun was about to fully set, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get to the graveyard in time.
All of a sudden, a huge creature ran into his path. Joe was not scared, though, because it was his friend Rendog!
“Joeth of the Hills, my dude, how the heck are you?” Rendog said.
“I am good, Rendog, but I am afraid I can not stop to chat! I have urgent business to attend to.” Joe said.
“Me as well, good sir, as I saw a rabbit just beyond those bushes and must give chase. Goodbye!” Rendog said, and dove back into the forest.
The moon was beginning to rise as Joe Hills stepped into the cemetery. He creeped along the gravestones, careful not to make a peep. He could hear skeletons rattling in the distance, but he was brave. He stopped at a gravestone with a torch above it, and began to dig. He dug straight down, until his shovel scraped against a coffin. He pried it open, using all his strength.
“Hi Joe!”
“Howdy, Cleo. Did you have a nice nap?”
It was Joe’s best friend, ZombieCleo! She had been sleeping in the grave! Cleo yawned and stretched, bones moving strangely under dead and rotting skin.
“It was wonderful, exactly what I needed! Thanks for digging me up! Let’s get out of here and go get some pumpkin spice lattes!”
“How spooky!” Joe said, and he and Cleo held hands as they went to get a yummy treat together.
——
This is my attempt at a “children’s story”-esque fic, and was supposed to be completed for Halloween. Better late then never lolll
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