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magicianparrish · 4 years

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Wasting No Time

Yay it’s pynch secret santa gift exchange time! My secret santa giftee is @alliwannadoiswrite :) They wanted some canon stuff, with college, the Barns, domestic fluff, Adam being psychic, among other things :) This does have spoilers for Call Down the Hawk! So if you haven’t read it yet, I would not suggest reading this until after you have! So I tried my best to weave all of these things in. I hope you like it. Happy Holidays! Thanks to @pynchpromptweek for getting this together :D

Adam couldn’t stop thinking about Ronan. This had become something common in the past year that they had almost been officially together. Being with Ronan and loving Ronan was something that had consumed Adam unexpectedly, and wholly. He did not regret one thing about it though. The languid summer nights that they had spent together before Adam went up to Cambridge, were some of the best memories Adam will ever have, and he cherished them greatly.

He also loved college life too. He had made his group of friends surprisingly quickly and found he cherished their friendship more than he anticipated. Though there was still plenty of room for their growth, and he knew he could never compare them to his friends back home. It was impossible to given the circumstances. But he now had given them a brief introduction to his other side, the world of magical forests, and demons, and boyfriends who had the power to take things out of his dreams. Their feet were in the door, and Adam was still hesitating on whether he should push them through or push them out and shut, lock the door and hide the key. Fletcher was still recovering from the trashed dorm room filled with dream crabs with human teeth, and a motorcycle that shouldn’t work but did. He did his best to hide it, but Adam knew that things had fundamentally changed between them. Adam was still trying to figure out if it was for better or worse.

Adam enjoyed most of his classes, though taking the ones that were gen ed requirements was sometimes like pulling teeth. His professors were all just a little bit quirky, but they all meant well. The coursework was challenging and stimulating, something that Adam used as a great distraction when his thoughts got too wild. The food wasn’t great, but Adam did not have high expectations. Anything would be better than what he lived off of growing up in Henrietta. He was thankful that he could have a steady three meals every day. Something he made sure to take advantage of no matter how busy he got. He would make the most of the thousands of dollars that meal plans cost; even with a full ride. And especially since he had to make up for the damage done to his dorm room.

Adam had tried to go on the next few weeks like everything was normal. Even if a nagging voice in the back of his mind constantly reminded him that no, everything was not fine. He watched as the leaves change color as autumn came in full swing. For the first time, he really felt what it meant for winter to be lurking around the corner. It was only early November, but Cambridge already had its first flurry of the year. That had come as a bit of a surprise to Adam, who wasn’t expecting any snow until at least after Christmas. After Halloween, the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees, as if Mother Nature was antsy to get on with winter and leave autumn behind. He had found a Columbia jacket in one of the many thrift stores he and Gillian frequented in great condition, and bought it for himself at the advice of her. Gillian who had grown up in Saratoga Springs, New York, knew about cold winters.

Midterms were closing in on Adam faster than he thought. It felt as if he were just moving into his dorm yesterday, sweating through his shirt helping his roommate, and future friend Fletcher, move a mini-fridge up three flights of stairs in the middle of August. But even the summers in Cambridge were not nearly as bad, thanks to it being close to the Charles River and Boston Harbor. Unlike Henrietta which was landlocked deep in western Virginia in the Shenandoah Valley.

He was sitting in the library preparing for his big quiz he had to take tomorrow morning. Even with half of his hearing permanently missing, Adam still found the library restless. There were too many people in one place, who had the same idea as he did. Doing the last minute cramming for midterms they had coming up. But with too many people, and running into friends and colleagues, it turned to striking conversations, and then being too loud. Adam wished he had been able to book a study corral, but those went faster than hot concert tickets here. Even if the library had been completely silent, it wouldn’t have helped his own thoughts that seemed to be screaming.

He had attempted to scry this morning, feeling something just a bit off. The session wasn’t very successful, so he tried pulling some tarot cards. Adam was thankful Fletcher was such a heavy sleeper. The cards he pulled weren’t exactly worrisome to Adam, but he wasn’t exactly happy with the outcome either. It also did not help that Ronan seemed to be a little more elusive than usual. Adam hoped he wasn’t finding himself into too much danger. He couldn’t stop thinking about who this Bryde character was, and what they were doing with Ronan. Adam wanted to know more about him.

Finally, Adam huffed and closed his books. He glanced at the watch that Ronan had given him as a gift. Thankfully they were both in the same time zone, so the time displayed was accurate. Adam did the mental calculations quickly to see if he could swing the crazy idea that had formed in his head last night. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was still early in the day.

“Screw it,” he muttered to himself.

He practically swept all his books off the table and into his backpack and darted out of the library. He shoved the code into his door and rushed in. Fletcher was on his bed reading a book and he startled.

“Adam! What’s got you in a big hurry?” he asked.

Adam didn’t respond for a moment and was too busy replacing the books with some clothes, and other necessities because you never know. When he zipped his backpack up, he finally looked at Fletcher.

“Going home to visit Ronan,” he responded.

Fletcher’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened. “Like right now? Adam, we have a presentation tomorrow morning!”

Adam nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Fletcher sputtered for a moment before shaking his head. “How are you getting all the way to Virginia?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders. “The motorcycle.”

“The motorcycle? Do you even have a helmet? Do you even know how to ride it?” he exclaimed.

“I’ll learn on the way. I promise, I’ll be there for Alexander’s class tomorrow,” Adam replied.

Fletcher murmured something under his breath and then heaved himself off the bed. Adam watched as he dug around in his closet for something and came out with a helmet. He tossed it to Adam who caught it.

“Doesn’t exactly go with the aesthetic, but my Vespa's helmet is better than no helmet. Also wear that leather jacket that Gill and you bought, it’s insulated. And wear gloves! Adam, your hands will be exposed. It’s cold out, and I don’t want you getting frostbite.”

Adam had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his roommate’s dramatics but did as he was told anyway. He yanked the brown leather jacket and put it on over his t-shirt he was wearing. Adam didn’t own any actual gloves, but he did have a pair of gardening gloves he used when working in the greenhouse for his botany club he joined, thanks to his proctor who also ran the club. They would have to do.

“Okay, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Adam said as he ran out of the room with his helmet in tow.

“Be careful!” Fletcher called out after him.

Adam ran out of the building and went towards the place where he had hidden the illegal and impossible motorcycle. Adam didn’t even have a proper license for this, and he would just have to hope no cops pulled him over. He took his phone out of his pocket, just to make sure he was still good for time. And a small part of him hoped that Ronan had texted him something, anything. No cigar for that though.

“Ronan, you better be there,” he muttered before plugging in his headphones that Ronan dreamt for him and turning on a queue of audio files that had all his lectures on. Just because he made a whimsical decision based on slight psychic intuition did not mean his academic studies went on the back burner.

He looked down at the motorcycle that was between his legs. How hard could this possibly be? He knew the guts of these as well as he knew his own hand, thanks to working as a mechanic for most of his young life. He turned it on and hit the throttle a little to test it out. He lurched forward unexpectedly, and he let out a yelp. Finally, he got some semblance of control and made his way down.

There were definitely a few close calls, and he had nearly fallen a few times trying to get used to the motor underneath him. Thankfully the highway didn’t seem too busy even for a Sunday. He made it back to the Barns in good time, with the sun just over its zenith for the day. He pulled into the Barns but was hit with a sense of dread and unpleasantness. Adam couldn’t think straight, but it was eerily reminiscent to when Cabeswater was being unmade due to the demon that had been unleashed thanks to the Greenmantles. But Adam pushed through and when he left whatever invisible barrier that was there, it felt as if he was breathing properly after being underwater for too long. He still wanted to have the element of surprise for Ronan though and pulled up only halfway to the driveway. He cut the engine and made his way up by foot and snuck in through the back door. Adam knew Ronan was home because the BMW was in the driveway, but he didn’t know if he would be out in the fields or in the house.

Adam had made his way into the kitchen and saw Ronan. His first reaction was relief at seeing his boyfriend but then surprise at seeing the handgun being leveled at him by said boyfriend. Adam put his hands up.

“Jesus, Ronan, it’s me!” he exclaimed. He turned on the kitchen light so he could get a better look. He took off the helmet and tucked it under his arm, still eyeing the gun in Ronan’s hand. “You know how to take a surprise well.”

It had taken Adam back that Ronan seemed to be paranoid about something. He didn’t trust that Adam was really who he was. But he was just glad to be home and close to Ronan again. He had only talked to Ronan on the phone the night before, but it seemed so far away. When they hugged, Adam wrapped his arms tightly around Ronan and made sure to revel in this. How much he missed Ronan’s warmth, and how much he loved it too. He felt the thrumming of the ley line under his feet, the magic of the Barns and the man who lived in it. It made Adam feel alive in a way he didn’t at Harvard, no matter how much he liked it there. He made sure to wish Ronan an early happy birthday. Even if he only had three hours to spare here, he would make good use of every second.

He did not expect things to take such a sharp turn as they did. He had been thinking about Bryde, and he wanted to see what was up with him. What he did not expect was something too bright and horrible that words could not even begin to describe it. Adam had never seen or even felt anything like it before. Not even when he was being possessed by the Demon. It had shaken Adam a bit to find out that his heart had actually stopped beating for a moment when he was snapped back into his mind thanks to Ronan’s talon knife. It had been like a dream; he couldn’t possibly remember all the details but was left feeling even more uneasy than before. Normally, he was able to remember his scrying sessions with great detail. The fact that he couldn’t was worrisome to Adam. Something big was moving, and he didn’t know what. But it seemed to be aiming for Ronan and anyone associated with him. Which included Adam.

They both sat on the cold tile floor of the master bathroom. Ronan had gotten the first aid kit and was slowly cleaning the wound that had been inflicted on his hand. The antiseptic burned a little, but he let Ronan continue.

“Parrish, what the fuck did you see?” Ronan asked again.

Adam had remained silent for a while. The images though he could not properly articulate them, and could not fully remember them, still seemed to be burned in the back of his eyelids every time he blinked. Adam shook his head.

“I-I don’t know Ronan,” Adam said. His voice was hoarse, and his throat sore from letting out a guttural scream he didn’t recall doing.

“Whatever you saw, it made you scream as if you were dying. Adam, your heart literally stopped beating!” Ronan exclaimed.

Adam glared up at where Ronan sat on the toilet bowl lid. Of course, Adam knew that when he came to it felt as if his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. It felt as if he hadn’t breathed in years.

“I know, Lynch. I can’t describe it. It’s like a fading dream. But I know it wasn’t Bryde.”

“How do you know though?” Ronan asked.

He was still trying to stop the bleeding from the cuts that went all the way up his hand and arm. He dabbed a little more of the antiseptic on a cotton swab and gently rubbed it to sterilize. Adam let out a hiss. Ronan grunted, as his way of saying sorry. Adam took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale.

“I just know. It was dark, and it felt almost similar to the demon’s energy. But stronger?” he tried to explain.

Ronan’s eyes looked up from Adam’s arm and to Adam’s eyes. His eyebrows pinched and his lips formed a scowl.

“Stronger than the demon? Parrish, what the fuck does that mean?” he demanded.

Adam threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I don’t know Lynch! This entire situation just seems messed up. You’re seeing doppelgangers of your mother, and hearing voices in your dream that cause them to be uncontrollable? The energy I’ve been feeling when I scried and even when I pull cards feels off. Something weird is happening, and I think it’s bigger than just you and me.”

Ronan just let out a growl of frustration and didn’t push the subject any further. Which Adam was glad for. He didn't want this to ruin the small amount of time they had together. He wasted enough of it digging into things that he didn’t know the first thing about. Adam watched silently as Ronan finished cleaning his wounds and carefully wrapped bandages around it. When he was finished Ronan washed his hands and walked out. Adam followed.

Ronan was standing by the large window in the master bedroom. The sun was setting, casting long shadows and the bright glow of the evening sun. Ronan’s body was tensed up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Adam padded up quietly next to him and forced his hand to intertwine with Ronan’s.

“This is fucked,” Ronan finally said.

Adam did not disagree. “Yeah, it is. But we’ll find a way through it.”

Ronan turned his attention from the outside world and gave it to Adam. Adam would always be grateful for Ronan and the unconditional love he had given Adam when Adam had never been offered it. Adam was already meeting Ronan halfway when it came to that. The sunlit up half of Ronan’s face while covering the other half in shadows. The light made his ice irises even more stunning than usual. His lips were in the usual scowl, but somehow it was softer.

“How do you know?” he wondered.

Adam squeezed his hand. “Because we’re stronger together.”

He watched as Ronan did his smoker’s breath and closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them back, Adam put a hand behind his head, feeling the bristles of the shaved hair and rubbed his thumb back and forth. He watched as Ronan’s pupils dilated, and gently pulled him down for a kiss. Ronan was more than happy to oblige Adam’s request. After a few moments, Adam released. He smirked at his boyfriend.

“Now, we only have a few hours. And I did say I needed to take your clothes off, so since we’re here…” he teased, leaving the rest for Ronan to figure out.

Ronan let out a harsh bark of laughter and rolled his eyes. He gently pushed Adam’s head away, which elicited a laugh from Adam.

“Parrish, you fucker.”

Adam grabbed Ronan by the collar of his t-shirt and dragged him to the bed before pushing him down. Adam then climbed on top of Ronan.

“Well, that’s kind of the point isn’t it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Not what I meant, shithead,” Ronan growled.

“Let’s not waste any more time, Lynch. I’m on a tight schedule.”

Ronan scoffed but pulled Adam down and into a deep kiss.

#adam parrish #ronan lynch #pynch #trc #cdth #pynchpromptweek #writing stuff

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jimlingss · 6 years

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Brass & Strings [17]

Episode 16 - Episode 17 - Episode 17.5 OR Episode 18 Words: 4.4k Genre: The cutest Fluff ever, Humour (?), Slice of Life, Implied smut, Music!Au, College!Au Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens to the mean girl after high school? Where do they go, where do they end up? More importantly, what happens when they get mixed up with the classic nerd that is always too nervous to answer no? Things become a lot more complicated when Kim Namjoon encounters you. They dub you as bat-shit insane and you’re not ashamed.

Cr.

“I love you.”

Namjoon gazing at you without a smile. The taupe duffle coat you gifted him is wrapped around his body, his glasses left back at home on his desk with the rest of his school papers that are due soon and his usual ruffled hair is instead gelled in a near style. You were suspicious when you saw how good he looked. Namjoon insisted on taking you out on a date tonight, having a nice meal and wandering around the town hand-in-hand. It’s a usual date, a simple yet warm one that you love to pieces. But when you ran through your mind to try to recall if this was a special occasion or anniversary, you found that it’s the one year mark since you’ve met him.

One year. An entire three hundred sixty five days with him.

You hope there are many more to come.

“Pardon?”

You frown, dipping your head slightly and speculating if you misheard. Underneath the bus station glass shelter and with the incandescent light bulbs of street lamps spouting it’s glow on your hair, your hand tightens around his; fingers that are laced together without sparing a single gap in between. There's no one besides you and him, the streets empty with the moon hung high in the sky with the stars. It's a peaceful night. But your heart is roaring, deafeningly loud.

Namjoon’s eyes hold a sweet and unwavering sincerity, watching your expression in an unadulterated carefulness that only spikes your anxiety.

“I'm in love with you, Y/N.”

There's a long moment of silence. One where you hold your breath in your lungs and you tilt your head to one side and your brows furrow deeper.

“Cool.” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth. And you don't know how to fix the mess that's happening in front of you. It's uncontrollable and your brain is screaming for you to do something, say anything. “That's awesome.”

Fuck. Shit.

As your boyfriend pulls his brown irises away from your face to stare at the sewage water flowing in the gutter, reflecting the luminescence of the milky way galaxy above you both…

You know you fucked up.

Life in the frat house isn’t as luxurious as someone might expect. In the movies and books, it’s all about the parties and alcohol, living on top of the world and getting wasted, competing against brothers to see who could sleep with more people and pick up more chicks.

In reality, it’s much less than that and more monotonous.

Sure, there are parties but they don’t take place most days and the cleanup process never fails to leave Jungkook wondering if it was worth it at all. There’s also a prestigious, righteous aura around his acappella group but no one knows about the brutalities or back stabbings, the lies and deceit that surround the highly competitive activity. Jungkook’s life consists of waking up and heading to class, being told that he needs to work on his vocals by the club head and then having to deal with his dofus roommate before going to bed. Occasionally, there might be a girl in the mix to help him relieve stress. Rinse and repeat.

Hence, you could imagine his surprise and delight when you called him out, breaking his mundane routine that was about to drive the frat kid up the wall.

“Are you going to give me my ten dollars back?” His eyes gleam, observing you taking a seat across the table. Jungkook sips on his frappuccino, wondering if he should mention that you’re late to the appointed time and he’s been waiting for twenty minutes.

“What? No.” You sigh, rubbing your temples to alleviate the strain. He muses how exhausted you look, hair strands escaping from your ponytail, your fur coat that’s not even worn properly around your shoulders. “Shut up for a second.”

Jungkook isn’t the type of person to meet up with someone simply because they called him and asked him to. He’s not a big fan of commitment when he knows he could be dropped like a hot potato the next second - he’s done it before to others, what’s stopping people from doing that to him?

But he was much too curious to refuse you. You’ve always been hostile towards him. To call him and want to meet up, the brown doe-eyed boy’s interest is piqued.

“I need your help.”

You had thought about it for a long time. If there was anyone who would give you a clear cut answer without beating around the bush or trying to pry for more information from you, it was this dude. He has a lot of background experience with this anyways, considering his popularity around campus and you wouldn’t feel embarrassed asking him. You frankly don’t care how Jungkook perceives you.

“You need my help?” His mouth opens, questioning if you’re the same person who stepped on his foot and told him to ‘fuck off’ on orientation day two years ago when he tried to hit on you.

You let out another long exhale, looking him in his bewilderment. “What do you do when one of your girls tells you that they love you?”

“I cut them off.”

The answer is obvious to Jungkook. He shrugs. It’s instinctual for him.

But you don’t want to cut Namjoon off. You like him very much. The thought of even breaking up kind of makes you want to cry.

“Well, what happens if you want them to stay?”

“What?” He raises his brows, twisting his face in disgust. “Then, they’d expect me to get into a relationship with them.”

“Okay.” You nod your head. “If you’re dating, what do you do when they tell you that?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?!” Jungkook practically screams and he doesn’t care that people turn their heads to glare at him. “What the hell? I don’t get into relationships!”

There’s an extended moment of quietness, lengthened enough for the ice in his drink to float around and clank against his plastic cup.

Your expression is blank and impassive. But your pupils are boring into his skin. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably and you finally speak up, “you’re really useless, you know.”

He makes a pained, sarcastic smile in response to your venomous tone. “Thanks.”

The acapella student wonders how the hell you managed to get a boyfriend. Or rather, if Namjoon was an absolute masochist - it’s the only plausible reason how anyone could ever stand being with you.

(...if only he knew).

Jimin takes a long sip of his hot coffee at the kitchen counter, his ‘Strategy and Global Management’ textbook is abandoned beside him. He’s watching his roommate pace back and forth, the dimpled boy scrubbing his glasses with a tiny cloth and becoming visibly upset when there’s still smudges on the lenses.

Namjoon grunts out angrily, stomps about and then slams his bedroom door shut but not before bumping into furniture.

“Is everything alright?” Jimin tries not to be too invasive but would much rather use this excuse to not study for an upcoming midterm. He hasn’t seen you around in the apartment in the past few days and decided giving you a call wouldn’t hurt. “Y/N?”

“Everything’s fine,” you reply in a colder tone across the other line.

“Oh, I was just wondering since Namjoon looks down and all…”

“He….does?”

The small conversation with Jimin only makes you feel worse. The guilt has piled on your shoulders, bearing a weight that feels as if you’re holding the sky up for the rest of the world.

You haven’t spoken to your boyfriend since ‘The Incident’. It’s quite obvious that you’ve been avoiding him, running in the opposite direction when he gets in a fifty meter radius from you. During practice, you dart your head the other way, staring at the conductor like the old man’s your lover and not the harpist that sulks openly. You also know that recently you haven’t been playing to your best abilities and you haven’t been sleeping all that well either, considering the bed is too large and cold by yourself. Music’s an extremely competitive industry; being the only tubist in the orchestra doesn’t mean you get to slack off. You should be busting your ass off with practicing like you usually do but you can’t.

Your mind is preoccupied.

“Noona?” There’s only one person in this world that would call you that. A shortie with a yellow backpack looks up at you like you own the stars, except this time he’s joined with a certain tall girl, someone with pursed lips, a big frown and black locks draping past their shoulders.

“It is you!”

On his way home from school and walking by the park where you had once saved him, Jin is ecstatic to run into you. He’s even happier when you buy him donuts and he’s sitting at the park bench munching on them with his classmate. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

You sit beside them, head in your hands. “What’s love?”

“Love?” Sunmi leans over to look at you and she pouts her lips. “Why?”

“No reason. I’m just curious as to what your answer is.” You must be losing your mind to be speaking to two middle-schoolers about your problems. But they could be the best people yet.

Who could be more pure-hearted and honest than them?

“Love is when you like someone a whole lot,” Sunmi says in a confident voice, unmistakable in her convictions as she stuffs her cheek and ignores her sugar coated lips. “They’re good looking or nice to you and your heart flutters. It’s simple. You think about them a lot and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Wow, captain obvious.” Seokjin jabs her side with his elbow lightly. “‘Love is when you like someone a whole lot’,” he mocks her in a higher pitched tone in an attempt to mimic the girl and he pouts his lips excessively, batting his lashes back and forth.

“Okay, give it a try then.” Sunmi urges him with a hand. “Go on, tell me what love is.”

“Love….” The boy begins with a far away look in his eyes, becoming dreamy and expression glossing over. “I don’t think it could ever have one definition. It’s different for everyone. It might be finding the feeling of home with someone else. Or it could be excitement. They might make you nervous or happy…” He looks over at his classmate. “You never really know.”

Although Seokjin isn’t the most eloquent, you can understand the emotions he’s trying to convey. But as Sunmi leans over to him with a smirk, whispering into his ear, “why are you staring at me?”, he pushes her away.

“Nevermind! I changed my mind!” He declares, focusing on chomping his donut. “Love is ice cream and the Transformers movies. Love is also gross...ew. Who wants germs? I don’t.”

“You’re so immature,” Sunmi nags him while sticking out her tongue.

“You’re the same age as me!” They bicker back and forth until your headache worsens.

“Well that doesn’t matter! You’re immature.”

“So are you!”

“No, I’m not! Liar!”

“You’re the liar!”

“Well at least I’m not a stupid jerk!”

Jin’s mouth is agape, about to go off but something in his peripheral vision catches his attention. He sharply inhales and whips his head in the opposite direction to hide himself. “Oh crap! That’s my brother.” You look off to where he was indicating and before you’re able to call Hoseok over, the younger male is grabbing his classmate’s friend, ignoring her yelp - “hey!” - and they dart down the street, abandoning the empty donut box beside you.

Hoseok freezes on the sidewalk and he frowns, looking at you and walking over. “That was him wasn’t it?” Your old high school bandmate is unfazed at your presence and he doesn’t say much of a greeting. You don’t need to greet him either. It’s sort of a secret code or handshake….not to acknowledge each other in words. It’s weird but as long as neither of you kick each other in the shins, you’d like to say you’re being pretty civil to your rival.

“Yeah.”

“I knew it.” Hoseok pulls off his heavy backpack full of textbooks and he heaves down at the bench. He disregards your snide comment of ‘did I say you could sit here?’. “I knew the brat had a girlfriend. He was texting someone all night and hiding the phone from me.”

“I don’t think they’re dating,” you mutter softly in place of Seokjin who would no doubt deny it until his hairs become grey and he’s aged a hundred years. “But what are you doing here?”

“Going home,” he scoffs. “What about you? Don’t you have practicing to do? My university might beat you if you keep slacking off like this, Y/N.”

“Not a chance in hell.” You wave him off. “I was only in the area and ran into your brother.”

“Hmm…” It’s been a long time since you’ve sat next to Hoseok. The last time you can recall is lunchtime in your senior year of high school. While other girls blatantly avoided you and quivered in their shoes, Hoseok joined you…...to discuss music. He just wanted to improve the brass section of the concert band.

At the time, most kids took the class to get the credits but you and him were the two most passionate.

With Hoseok’s commands and nitpicking personality that strives for perfection and the way you drove everyone in fear, your classmates obeyed. You’d like to consider that it was Hoseok’s efforts and yours that played a big part as to why your school won the superior award that year.

Unfortunately, Hoseok wasn’t a close friend but the most similar thing you had to it. You always thought it was a shame that he went to a different university. But looks like fate still wanted the two of you to remain as platonic companions.

“Where’s Namjoon? You’re always together with him. What? There’s trouble in paradise?”

“Kind of…” You sheepishly sigh, probably for the fiftieth time since you’ve woken up this morning. They always say that love is spectacular and being in a true relationship is the most fulfilling thing someone can do but no one ever talks about the effort that’s required. To maintain it, you constantly have to put in work - you have to be an active and willing participant. And you’re afraid you’re doing a bad job.

For one, you can’t express your innermost feelings very well. You hate being in a vulnerable position. Secondly, you have a habit of running away when things don’t work out.

You could list a million other reasons why you really aren’t meant for a committed relationship.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t want to try.

“You know, you’ve changed, Y/N.”

You never thought you would ever want to attempt it - though when Namjoon came stumbling into your life, it seems like a lot of things have been reversed. When it comes to him, especially him, your stubbornness is at an all time high. You won’t give up so easily.

“How so?”

“You’re a bit...softer now.”

“Puh-lease.” You roll your eyes, unknowingly becoming defensive. You even whip your hair behind your shoulder as if it’ll add onto your argument. “I have not become soft, Hoseok.”

You enunciate his name, punching at each syllable. “No, that’s not me.” Your head shakes. “I’m cool and hardcore. People fear me. They want to be me.” When you say it aloud, it sounds much more silly and childish than inside your head.

Hoseok laughs at your arrogance. “Okay then, think whatever you want to think.”

The truth of the matter, one that you don’t want to admit, is that Kim Namjoon has not only reversed your life and changed your once firm beliefs. He has also melted your coarse edges and sharp tongue. Dammit.

You bang on the surface of the wooden door, fist booming in a steady beat. When it takes too long, you spam the doorbell with your other hand, the boisterous noise heard on the other side.

It finally opens after two minutes of spamming.

Sleepy eyes look back at you, a mouth that parts to spew out curses but you beat him to the punch, leaning against the doorway. “Why the fuck is your apartment so far away? And why is it practically in the slums? Move already! I thought I was going to get robbed on my way here!”

“What do you want from me?” Yoongi hangs his head in exasperation and exhaustion. He’s shirtless with only shorts on and the sight is repulsive. Is he so poor that he can’t own clothing anymore? Not even a set of nice pajamas?

You laugh in a mocking tone that rings in his ears and makes him scowl. “Not everything’s about you. Now where’s your girlfriend? Jennie?!”

You step to the side to enter his apartment but he steps in the way. Your feet shuffle to the left but he blocks you. It’s another showdown; you versus your dearest cousin. No one is willing to give up.

“Jennie!”

“Get out of here or I’m calling the police!”

“I’d like to see you try! Jennie!” You scream out the concertmistress’ name past his shoulder. “Jennie!”

“It’s literally midnight, Y/N. What the fuc-”

He’s unguarded. You nab at the opportunity. Yoongi huffs out a breath of air. You shove him back. And you’re inside. “Y/N!”

“Jennie?”

Finally, the violinist comes stumbling out of the bedroom in your cousin’s hoodie and you fight not to wince. In the back of your mind, you still find the thought of your family member with your ex-enemy slightly nauseating. “W-what’s going on?” She looks like she’s barely woken up, eyes still closed and hair amuck.

“I need to talk to you.”

The desperation is eating at your skin, like parasite bugs or an unreachable itch on your back that is driving you insane. You need to talk to someone. A person who could understand, sympathetic enough to wrap their minds around your own brain to guide you to the right answer.

You’re too afraid of hurting Namjoon to go to him.

“-and...and then I told him ‘cool’. Like who even says that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose, accepting the warm cup of tea when she offers it to you. Yoongi’s long gone back to bed, giving up on your battle with him for a fluffy pillow and toasty covers instead.

“Well, I think it's a pretty good response for being caught off guard. There are a lot of worse things you could’ve said, Y/N.”

Accurate to what you assumed, Jennie has easily calmed you down. She has an odd counsellor or motherly aura about her. “I-I...I just don't know what to say to him. I don't know how I should face him. I keep imagining hurting him and then him telling me he wants to break up.”

“No.” She firmly shakes her head, putting her hand over yours. “Not Namjoon. He wouldn't. You and I both know he's not the type to break it off because of that.”

“Y-yeah…”

“I think...you should just talk to him, Y/N. You can't guess how he’ll respond or what he’ll say until you actually communicate with him. I know it sounds sappy but if you said what's on your mind, I'm sure Namjoon would understand.”

You nod your head, already knowing that it's the right thing to do. But-

“What's love, Jennie?”

You crane your neck towards her. She's put on a robe overtop of her pajamas, hair thrown into a messy bun and you muse that she has always been kind to you no matter how much you mistreated her in the past. You're suddenly glad that you have her as a friend. “H-how do I know?”

She smiles warmly at you. “You just...do.”

In the meanwhile, Namjoon is unable to sleep even when it’s two o’clock in the morning. He only tumbled around in bed, listened to some relaxation music which only got his brain cranking again and then he decided he might as well be productive and get some homework done.

‘The Incident’ is a constant throbbing pressure at the back of his skull. Every so often, he stops reading in the middle of a paragraph or leaves a sentence hanging to cringe and curse at himself. Was he an idiot? Why did he blurt it out?! Not only is Namjoon mortified by his own spontaneous behaviour but he feels guilty for putting you in that position. It was no wonder that you were avoiding him like the plague. He wouldn’t be surprised if you broke it off with him too.

Aside from being embarrassed to death, Namjoon didn’t want to chase you down for a response. It wasn’t a cat and mouse chase like last time nor was it hide and seek. He wanted to give you space and for you to come to him when you felt like that time was right.

And apparently you felt like two in the morning was a great time.

The doorbell rang once and the clumsy harpist got to his feet before his sleeping roommate in the next room would throw a hissy fit. Hence, no one is able to envision his shock when he finds you on the other side and not some drunk dude who was pounding at the wrong door.

“I-I…” You’re hyperventilating, sweat dripping from your hairline and you wheeze. “I ha...ve...to..talk-...I have to talk to you...I...I ran here..”

Namjoon can’t register what’s happening but he steps aside, allowing you to enter the shabby apartment that’s now become your second home. “What-”

“I’m sorry.” You cough, dragging yourself to stand upwards and looking him in the eyes. Your lungs are still squeezing but you manage and you pull something out of your bag, pressing the soft object to his chest. “I-”

It’s lame. It’s dumb. But it’s a red stuffed crab that you had grabbed at the supermarket kids toy section on your way over. It’s a compensation gift, to try to convey your guilt and apologizes. You don’t know how else to deal with things.

“Is this for me?” Namjoon doesn’t realize that he’s grinning, holding the fluffy thing up. It’s got a bright smile, a cotton shell covering the top of the cute crab. He hasn’t had a present like this since he was five-years old and he feels his heart blooming.

“I’m sorry for forgetting our one year anniversary. W-well...I didn’t forget but I didn’t say anything about it either. That’s not why I’m here though. No more running away,” you mumble but more to yourself. “N-Namjoon, there’s something I need to say to you-”

“We should go to my room first.” He takes your hand, not wanting to disturb his roommate that’s been slaving away to his professors. The door softly closes and he internally swears at himself as to why he had to roll around his bed covers and make everything look like a mess.

Nonetheless, Namjoon fondly places the plush crab down by his bedside table. “I love it.”

“G-good.” You swallow hard, facing him properly like how you should’ve done at the beginning. “I’m sorry, Namjoon.” He tips his head, listening to you and you muster your courage not to shy away. “I-I know I’m a bad girlfriend….I always run away from problems - I’m a coward. But there’s something I need to say to you.”

You brace yourself. “I love-”

“Ahhh...ah...ah….no.” He presses his finger to your lip and you frown. “No. Nope. Shush. Just be quiet.”

“What?”

He drops his hand. “First off, no. You’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“You mean you don’t want to break up with me?”

“Why do we keep having the same conversation?” He exhales with a wide smile, taking your hand and the two of you sit down on the edge of his mattress. “No, L/N Y/N, I don’t want to end our wonderful relationship, okay? You don’t have to worry about that. If anything...I’m sorry.” His voice becomes softer and softer. Namjoon looks away, deflecting your probing orbs. “I know what I said to you was really out of the blue. I..I didn’t mean to say it like that. I had been thinking about it for awhile and it just came out…”

You nervously twiddle your thumbs, “w-why?”

Namjoon shrugs. “You looked really beautiful that night at the bus station.”

A smile cracks through your pressed lips and your tinkling laugh eases his own worries. “Namjoon, I was a mess that day. I literally hadn’t washed my hair or showered. I reeked.”

He shrugs his shoulders again, at a loss. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything. Tell me on your own time, whenever you’re ready.” He brushes your hair gently, tapping your head in an awkward fashion like you’re his pet but the timid boy only causes you to blush and smile harder. “I’ll be waiting patiently.”

For a second, you’re almost moved to the point where tears will start to trickle to your cheeks but you get a grip on yourself and remain composed. “You’re too kind, Nams.”

“Oh, really?” His eyebrow cocks and he instantly pounces, tackling you onto the rumpled bed sheets. You laugh out loud and then there’s an ‘thump’ on the wall. You and your boyfriend freeze before exchanging looks, visualizing Jimin knocking against the surface to get the two of you to shut the fuck up.

You put your palm against your lips, muffling your giggles and Namjoon slumps down beside you. You’re too tired to get up to any trouble anyways. The entire day has exhausted you.

“Hey...there’s one way you can make it up to me.”

Namjoon flickers the light off, holding his new plush toy in his arms. It reminds him of when he was a mere boy who had a million dreams, yet, he would never imagine being with such a girl that would cause absolute chaos in his life….the good kind of chaos.

“What?”

“You can cuddle me,” he murmurs out, “I want to be the small spoon.”

“Deal.”

“Happy anniversary.” Your arm wraps around his abdomen, blankets covered to his chest. Namjoon feels toasty and warm, content like he’s never before. He smiles and murmurs, “I love you.” You only hum in response but knowing that you’re here with him….

It’s enough.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #WOOOO!#That fluff tho

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