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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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Stray Kids Reaction || Not Giving You Attention [Request]

CHAN:

You understood how busy Chan got whenever he was in the zone working on a new album or just some songs he and the boys were having fun but it didn't mean you liked it. Whenever he got too into something it was as if the rest of the world no longer existed to him, you knew it wasn't personal since his music meant everything to him but it had been over a week of no attention from him and you were starting to get moody about it. If Chan was always at work you didn't have someone to cuddle up to apart from Felix so that was what you did, you began cuddling up to Felix on a night since you both needed to hold something to fall asleep.

"Lix?" Chan's voice rang out as he walked into the dorms at 3 am one morning to find you curled up in front of Felix, his arm draped along your stomach to make sure you didn't fall off in your sleep.

"What are you guys doing?" Chan chuckled weakly as he caught the sight of you both laying together the way you were, he knew there was no reason for him to feel jealous but he couldn't help it.

"He's cuddling me because someone has been too busy to," You grumbled too tired to say anything, you simply rolled over and snuggled your head into Felix as he continued to try and go back to sleep.

"Oh, so you went to the next Australian?" Chan chuckled as he watched you, reaching out his hand to stroke your cheek softly, he'd missed you incredibly all week and he didn't blame you for going to someone else for cuddles.

"Well I went to Hyunjin but he was busy too," You joked, whining as Chan lifted you up from the sofa and began carrying you in the direction of his bedroom but you pouted at him,

"Are you going to pout all night?" You nodded in answer to his question and he chuckled, laying down on the bed.

"Even if I said I'm done with working for now?" That was all it took for you to wrap your arms around his body and hold him as tightly as you possibly could, not daring to let go even for a second.

MINHO:

"You've been like this all week! What's the problem?!" Minho snapped as he tried getting you to speak to him but you just looked at him with a blank stare. All week he'd been ignoring you, not giving you enough attention and the petty side of you decided to do the same thing to him ignoring him and giving him the silent treatment to see how long it would take him to crack. The answer was about three days before he finally noticed you weren't asking him for cuddles all of the time or begging for his attention.

"You're ignoring me? How mature of you?" He quipped sarcastically as he sat down on the sofa next to you but you scoffed in his direction,

"You're the one who didn't give me any attention this week! It's taken you three days to notice I'm ignoring you," You whined out, folding your arms across your chest kind of like a child whenever they didn't get something that they wanted.

"So you ignored me to get attention?" He chuckled watching you as you continued to pout, turning away from him but all he did was wrap his arms around you and drag you into his embrace.

"I didn't mean to, you know how things have been lately," He whispered in your ear, leaving small and soft kisses up and down your skin that made your whole body tingle.

"I guess this makes up for it," You laughed as he continued to kiss you, not letting you go for even a second.

CHANGBIN:

Instead of begging and fighting for Changbin's attention, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, whatever he was working on was clearly important to him so you began to spend time by yourself. Getting into reading until you found a book you couldn't put down but then, of course, Chanbin was done with his projects and wanted to give you all his time and attention but your head was so into the book you barely even noticed that he was there. Ignoring him as you flipped through the pages of a book, lost so deeply that you could imagine the world around you, all of it playing in your head like a small movie.

"Y/n?" You looked up to see Changbin holding up your favourite fast food with a cheesy grin on his face as you finally looked at him.

"Now you're paying attention to me?" He asked sarcastically as you put the book down onto the table in front of you,

"I think you'll find it was the other way around," You mumbled to him, taking the bag from his hands and heading over into the kitchen as he followed behind you.

"I give you all my attention-"

"You've barely spoken to me all week," You didn't mean to sound as pissed off as you did but it hurt that your boyfriend had been ignoring you for so long and was now pissed at you for doing the exact same thing.

"I was giving you a taste of your own medicine," You quipped, throwing a chip at him for him to catch in his mouth, he chuckled wrapping his arms around you from behind.

"Then from here by out, I promise to give you all of my attention and if I can't you have permission to sit on my lap until I do," As he finished his sentence he fed you a chip and you smiled at him, kissing his lips softly.

"Deal."

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin was almost always busy with something so not getting attention from him was kind of hard sometimes, he would be busy with dance practise and other things he was doing but somehow he would make time for you. It was only occasionally he would get so busy he barely knew what time of day it was and you would have to force him into staying with you, holding you, giving you the attention you craved but it wasn't for selfish reasons you had to make sure he was taking care of himself.

"I bought lunch, sit," You ordered as you walked into the dance studio to find Hyunjin panting and sweating heavily from his routines he was doing, he looked at you before going back to dancing to the music.

"Hyunjin." You warned him, placing the food down onto the computer desk where you could easily turn off the music and force him into interacting with you but he groaned, looking over at you.

"I have to practice-"

"No, you have to eat. Chan said you skipped breakfast," You turned off the dance track and walked over to him, waving the bag under his nose as you told him what you'd made for lunch for the pair of you, forcing him to sit down and give you attention while also making sure he was taking care and looking after himself.

“Fine but only because it’s my favorite,” He lied as he sat down on the floor he knew it was only because you’d brought him the food. If anyone else had turned off the music mid-session there would have been harsh words exchanged but he couldn’t be harsh to you when he knew you were only looking out for him. He smiled as you fed him, dragging you close to him as you both cuddled together and ate lunch.

JISUNG:

All of Jisung's attention had been on a new video game that he seemed to be obsessed with as of late, spending hours and hours playing it and if he wasn't playing the game he was working or sleeping you barely got to see him.

"Jisung?" You asked as you walked into the bedroom to find him with his head in the console once again, you held onto the towel that was around your body debating whether or not to drop it in front of him or not. It was something you'd been seeing all over the internet, people who couldn't get their partners to notice them would shower and drop the towel in front of them.

"Sungie," You cooed at him slowly taking off the towel and dropping it by his feet but he didn't even look up, his eyes were glued to the screen so you rolled your eyes, picking up the towel you turned to leave when the door opened,

"Jisung it's my turn-AH!" Jeongin let out a loud scream as he covered his eyes, Jisung stood up in a rush and covered you with his body to stop the Maknae from seeing what he wasn't supposed to.

"What are you doing walking around Naked?! Why did you walk in without knocking?!" He yelled out at the both of you while a bright red Jeongin backed out of the room not wanting to respond to anything,

"You weren't giving me attention, I dropped the towel to get it." You whined as you finally admitted how needy you had been feeling for him to even look at you lately, as soon as he heard what was wrong he sighed and brought you into a hug.

"I'm sorry babe...I guess I have been a little preoccupied-"

"A little?" You questioned sassily, raising your eyebrow as he blushed and looked down at the floor.

"Maybe a lot." He chuckled, kissing your forehead as he promised to give you more attention than he had been.

FELIX:

Felix knew whenever he wasn't giving you enough attention because you would cuddle up to him more and more, not letting him go for a second as you were desperate for him to hold you. It wasn't often that he would be so busy he couldn't even talk to you but when it happened he felt bad about it, he tried to do what he could but he couldn't always be there for you.

"Did you miss me? I can't tell," He joked sarcastically as you cuddled up beside him, holding onto his arm tightly as he attempted to leave you alone but you weren't going to let him, you continued to hold him. He'd just come home from a busy day and wanted to sleep beside you but the boys were calling him for dinner,

"You're not allowed to leave unless I'm coming with," You joked, kissing his cheek as he held onto you tightly telling you he would be right back and he would have food when he came back, supplies for your endless night of cuddles.

“But you’re leaving,” You whined jokingly as he continued to get out of your grasp, laughing as you tried to stop him from leaving the dorm room despite that he would be coming back within seconds.

SEUNGMIN:

More often than not you knew Seungmin would sometimes pretend to pay attention to you when he was really ignoring you and had no idea what you were talking about. It had gotten worse lately when he would zone out in your conversations when you were trying to tell him about your day or asking him about his day.

"Yeah and then-" You stopped speaking once you saw that he was nodding along while staring at his phone so you decided to put it to the test,

"Then the chicken jumped up onto my work desk and started dancing and singing to Miroh," He didn't even flinch so you stared at him as you kept making things up to see if he would notice,

"It could rap Jisung's lines really well, I think it said it was going to audition to be a part of 3Racha so they could become 4Racha," Jisung looked up from his phone as he heard this and wondered what you were doing until he saw Seungmin's head in his phone.

"I made out with Jisung," You lied as you stared directly at him, again there was no reaction so Jisung decided to join in,

"Y/n and I had sex in your bed." Nothing. You huffed, folding your arms over your chest and pouting as you gave up on the silly idea that you could get your boyfriend to give you attention.

"You didn't really make out with him...Right?" Seungmin whispered a little while later when Jisung had left the room, you turned to look at him and he was blushing.

"I heard everything, I was just too tired to respond...I'm sorry." He whined as you snuggled into his arms, kissing his chest softly.

JEONGIN:

When Jeongin got stressed he seemed to push everything away from him, he wanted to make sure what he was working on had his 140% in it, wanting whatever it was to be perfect for the fans and the boys and you knew that which was why you'd given him some space but as time passed it was beginning to worry you. There were no texts, calls or even a signal that he was doing okay, if it wasn't for the boys you wouldn't have known what he was doing.

"When did you get here?" Jeongin asked as he panted heavily, you looked up from the book you were reading and smiled at him, it was nice to see he was finally back in the room.

"About three hours, you hadn't noticed because you were practising so hard," You bookmarked the page you were on and got up to go over and hug him, not caring that he was covered in sweat you were just glad he finally acknowledged that someone else was in the room with him again.

"You need to shower, I'm cooking at the dorms with Seungmin later," You tapped his chest, leaning up to give him a kiss on the lips as you smiled at him, not even upset that he had been too busy to call or text, you knew he was doing what he loved and that was all that mattered to you.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @minholuvs

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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pause, m | myg | 4

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Some things that are normal for most aren’t normal for you and Yoongi. He moved in and sleeps in the same bed with you, but still all you do is hold hands and kiss gently. Everyone has their own pace. Not everyone lives in the fast lane. There’s just... this nagging feeling. You have to be honest.

warnings: rated M (18+) - mentions of a previous physically and verbally abusive relationship; language; smut (penetrative sex); there’s so much fluff you might die; also RIP to their heads XD; non-idol!AU; music producer!Yoongi x dancing fanatic!reader

rated M because I know how sensitive a topic domestic abuse is.

"Sorry."

"What?"

You retreated your hand from the tuft of hair sticking out of Yoongi's black cap. He turned around and raised his eyebrows at you. You ended up apologizing before actually doing anything or even touching the little black tail in the opening of his hat. He adjusted the brim and gave you a weird look.

"Something wrong?" he asked, tilting his head.

"No, uh... I..." You struggled to find the words. "I almost touched you. I wasn't sure if you were okay with that."

Yoongi smiled a little. "It's okay. I know you're there. And I know it's you."

He was sitting right next to you at your computer in your bedroom. You had set up a station for him, the two of you in the corner, occupying two computers ninety degrees from each other. All you had to do was turn to the right and he was there. He turned to the left and you were there. It was kind of cramped and not ideal, but it had to do for now. Yoongi worked on music at home. Some things Yoongi could only do at the studio, but some things he could do at home. You found him a decent computer and some hand-me-down equipment and it was good enough.

Actually...

It was miles better than it was before. He was surprised when you asked him if he wanted to work on his music at home. It wasn't permitted in Yoongi's previous relationship. But you saw he lamented sometimes, recording demos on his phone and wishing he had some sort of setup to do some things. You didn't understand the technical aspects, but it couldn't hurt to ask, right? It had become a fun project and now Yoongi was sitting beside you.

Yoongi spied the images on your monitor. "What are you looking at?"

You turned back. "Apartments. I'm just trying to see if there's something bigger, so you can have your own music studio at home."

He bit his lip. "I can't afford that right now."

You understood that Yoongi often mentioned money because it was a topic of arguments with his ex-girlfriend. You hadn't gone into this expecting Yoongi to be rich. In any case, it was better for him to invest in his music. You had already told him this, but habits take time to be broken. Thankfully, your work paid well even though it was mostly clerical duties. There were perks to having worked at the same company for a long time.

"It's okay. I want a bigger space too."

"You mean you want your dance studio back?" he teased.

You felt your ears heat. "I can use the living room... anyway, I want you to be able to work in peace. I haven't seen anything good though."

"Mmm, well, this kind of thing takes time and luck."

You turned your head to look at him and found his face next to your shoulder. A handsome profile. His eyes shifted to look at you. Something flitted in those dark brown eyes. The nagging feeling came back, tapping inside your ribcage, rattling impatiently. You looked away, back at your computer screen.

Yoongi said your name softly.

"Is something wrong?" His voice wavered. "Did I do something?"

"No, Yoongi," you replied, still not looking at him. The frustration inside expanded. You knew you had to communicate. You couldn't not. If you avoided it any longer, you would be growing the seeds of doubt and you wanted Yoongi to trust you. To do that, you needed to be honest.

"I'm horny."

Silence.

"What?"

You jerked a little in your seat, moving away from Yoongi before raising your head to make eye contact. Your chest felt tight, ashamed, even though it wasn't supposed to be embarrassing.

"I'm horny," you repeated, rubbing your fist on your thigh. "I don't want to pressure you because I know that topic might be delicate. I just..." You kept looking at those wide cat-like eyes and then looking away, heart beating fast and heat building faster. "I find that I can't really look at you that long without thinking about it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Silence. You felt your stomach knot.

“I don’t remember the last time I had sex,” Yoongi murmured. “I don’t remember the last time I wanted it.”

Ah. Right. That would make sense. Of course, that’s how he felt. Also, you weren’t exactly sexy. The octopus dancing didn’t really get the guys, so to speak. You could handle yourself. It was fine. He was just so… You wanted Yoongi to feel good with your touch, wanted his heart to flutter the way yours fluttered, wanted to see him breathless with want.

There was a weight on your thigh.

You started, looking down, breath at your throat. You were wearing loose gray shorts and the matching sweatshirt. Not a sexy outfit to get your freak on. But you were staring at Yoongi’s hand, kneading the fabric and your leg underneath and the heat was rising, heart racing.

“I think I need a reminder…” he murmured. “A reminder on how good it feels to be loved like that.”

Yoongi lifted his head and you stared into his eyes.

He leaned forward and closed the distance, kissing you softly, and you breathed him in, fitting your hand over his, guiding it up, gentle touches, turning in your chair to face him, and he was turning to you, holding you close, your hands skimming over his t-shirt, not trying to get more, just wanting to show your want, just demonstrating how you would run your hands over his skin if there was no barrier, and he stood up, making you stand up.

And then your heads banged together.

“Ow!”

“Motherfuc–”

You swore and Yoongi clamped a hand over your mouth, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head.

“Don’t ruin this,” he winced, removing his hand.

“My brain feels rearranged,” was your woozy response, cursing the narrow space.

Yoongi took your hand and pulled you away from the computers, towards to the bed, the same bed you two slept on, but didn’t touch, not like this. You only held hands or kissed gently. Late at night, when Yoongi was fast asleep, you would stare at his profile and wonder if he felt the same passion you felt, but it was weird to watch him sleeping, so you looked away and stared at the ceiling instead, thinking about him and his body against yours.

And now it was, his arms around you, pressing you to his chest, kissing your lips, cheeks, closed eyelids, making you laugh a little. Your fingertips on his back, tracing patterns, his gasp against your skin, cap falling off and tumbling to the floor, his black hair brushing your forehead.

“T-Touch me more…” he murmured.

He took your forearms and pushed them down, sliding your hands under his white shirt and then it was skin on skin, a needy noise between you two. With burning ears, you realized that was you, Yoongi’s hands on your shoulders as you explored his back, fingertips dancing up his spine, his pants in your ear, and then his fingers in your hair, messing it all up, rolling his body into yours.

Hardness.

You gasped, raising your thigh to press against it, and his hands slid down, and you looked up to see his half-lidded eyes hazy with desire.

“I want to follow your lead, Yoongi,” you breathed. “Any time you want to stop, we can stop.”

He nodded, leaning down to kiss you, deeper this time, tongue sliding in and playing with yours, your hands exploring the contours of his back. His skin, so soft, so lovely, smelling the vanilla and patchouli body wash you used because you shared the same shower and he used all your products. You shared so much with him, but there were some things you couldn’t share. Not yet. Not until he gave you his sign that he was ready.

You never told Yoongi, I love you.

The most precious words used in this world, turned to a poison dagger to hurt him, so you never said it, not until he was ready to hear it, not until he wanted to hear it. You knew Yoongi knew. You would hold his hand, draw a heart in his palm, small things like that, and he knew. He’d squeeze your fingers and smile a little smile and that was enough.

Maybe you were tiptoeing too much, but it was impossible to tell, because everyone is different and not even Yoongi himself knew what trivial actions or words would bring back unpleasant memories. He had spent so long repressing them that it was hard to tell reality from fantasy. He didn’t know what to be afraid of because he tried so hard to make them disappear.

You drew a small heart on Yoongi’s shoulder blade and he gasped, pulling you closer.

“I… like when you do that…” he mumbled, sounding a little embarrassed.

“Draw hearts?” you questioned, tilting your head.

“Yeah… on my skin…”

And then Yoongi surprised you.

He backed up a little and pulled his shirt over his head, taking your hands and placing them on his chest, not saying anything, but you could see it in his eyes, I don’t look very good, and you pressed your fingertips to his chest, over his beating heart, looking up at him.

“You will always be perfect to me, Yoongi.”

He gave you a wistful smile, believing you and not at the same time. “You have weird taste.”

You drew a small heart over his, feeling him shiver at your touch. You grinned brightly. “That’s how you know I’m devoted.”

He chuckled, closing one eye, looking sheepish. You waited, letting him work through the emotion, trying not to put himself down, taking it for what it was. It was not an easy thing to do. You had to be patient. Yoongi took your hand and pulled you to the bed, a familiar environment.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said.

“You don’t–”

“I want to,” Yoongi reaffirmed, looking you in the eye, determination in his tone. “I want my hard work to be the reason you feel good.”

You shouldn’t say it. Well, maybe it will lighten the mood. You struggled internally and then leaned forward, placing the back of your hand near your mouth.

“Hard work is a weird way to refer to your dick,” you whispered closely.

Yoongi burst out laughing, gums flashing, raspy and full, shoving you onto the bed. You bounced, hands flapping about, grinning at you own joke as Yoongi grabbed the bottom of your sweatshirt, yanking it up and over your head.

“This and your bad habit of moving your head at the same time as me–”

“It means we’re in sync!”

“I don’t want a concussion every time we make out,” Yoongi shot back, pinning your arms down and hovering over you, exasperated smile on his face.

He was so close.

Your grin slowly deflated, realizing that he was shirtless and you were shirtless, and Yoongi had you pinned down, gazing down at you with dark eyes and that open-mouthed smirk that was also disappearing, realizing he was on top of you, realizing this wasn’t innocent, realizing he was about to do something that should be normal but was made abnormal to him.

“You don’t have to do it,” you said gently.

“I know.” He looked at you under his black hair, messy and flat from being under the hat, brown eyes and pink lips standing out on his fair-skinned face. “But I want to.”

You always thought that parts of life were boring. It would be easier to fast forward and skip it.

But not with Yoongi.

He leaned down and kissed you, a kiss that you wanted to pause and live in forever, him inhaling you, pressing deeply, hands releasing your arms and cradling your head, his kisses like stars, precious light that brightened your whole world. But you also wanted to press play, kissing him back, your hands caressing his sides, drawing small hearts on his skin, your own heart swelling with the electricity of touching the one you loved, not knowing until now how nice it was, the simple sensation of dancing your fingers up his back and back down, his gasps on your skin, kissing down, down the curve of your neck and the swell of your breasts, so focused that his eyes were screwed shut and his brows were furrowed.

“Yoongi…”

His eyes opened slowly and Yoongi looked up at you with shaking pupils. Scared he was going to fuck up.

“It’s just me. You know, the one who dances like an octopus.”

His expression seemed to relax, turning into ruefulness. “How could I forget?”

“Should I wiggle a bit to jog your memory?” you teased.

“Please don’t.”

Your remark seemed to have calmed him, returning to your breasts, slipping the straps down, kissing along the curve of the cup, slipping his tongue under experimentally to make you jump, heart racing once more, a small smirk on his lips as he reached behind you and unhooked it, releasing them from their prison.

“O-oh!”

You yelped when Yoongi pulled your bra down, kissing your nipple directly, tingles flaring from the kiss, leaving you breathless as his tongue danced out, licking gracefully, slow circles that made you clench your jaw and tighten your core to avoid arching your back to get more. Yoongi seemed to sense your urgency and added more pressure, closing his lips around it, and your hands flew up, holding his head as carefully as possible but holy shit, holy shit, Yoongi’s tongue on you was pure ecstasy and he was doing it for you, showing his love for you and that’s why it felt so good, that’s why it was so fucking nice.

“Ah, fuck, Yoongi…”

He kissed to the other side, murmuring your name against your skin, seeped with desire and affection, pushing your wet nipple with one finger as he kissed the other, two points of pleasure that flowed through you, your gasps turning to moans, his hands coming up and encircling yours, lacing your fingers with his and holding them, whispering, faint, nearly silent, vibrating your sensitive skin with his lips and breath.

And then you heard it.

His whisper right above your heart and you looked down, Yoongi’s eyes looking up at you.

Apologetic for taking so long.

“I love you.”

If someone paused the tape right now, took it out, and your life ended right there, you would be okay with that. If that was the last moment in this world, if that was all that was and time stopped, you would be content.

But it wasn’t.

Play.

You smiled down at him, trying to prevent your voice from shaking.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

The most precious words in the whole world.

“Should I stop?”

Your eyes widened. “N-no! I mean… if you’re…” You stopped speaking, seeing the playfulness sparkling in those dark eyes, pleased to have tricked you, even if only for a second.

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, lifting himself up to kiss you lightly. “I only wanted to see if you would be bothered.”

“I am very bothered,” you responded, peeved. “Hot and bothered, even.”

Yoongi lifted a brow, small amused smirk on his lips. “Come to think of it, me too.” He backed up and you lifted your chest, only to have Yoongi press down on your collarbones, worry flitting his face.

“What?”

“Don’t bonk my head.”

You grimaced. “I’m not a serial head bonker.” You lifted yourself up and Yoongi swung his head back, eyes flashing with mock fear. You pointed to the nightstand, rolling your eyes, and rummaged around in the drawer, feeling to the back and pulling out the small box.

“How old are those?”

Your cheeks flushed. “L-Last month!”

“You wanted to fuck me since last month?”

“N-No, obviously earlier, but I didn’t k-know if you ever wanted…” you trailed off, flapping your jaw, holding up said box, the condoms tumbling out. You panicked a little, not wanting him to think you were expecting too much, dropping the box and scrambling to collect the pile, the tip of your finger hitting the box at the exact spot that would cause it to fly off the bed and hit the wall.

You stared at it, betrayed.

Yoongi burst out laughing. “I can hear you talking to it,” he chuckled.

“I’m not saying anything!”

“You wanna fuck me?”

Your head snapped back, eyes widening. Yoongi tilted his head.

“Yes,” you blurted. “Well, yes, I mean, you’re so…” This was awkward. It didn’t used to be awkward but, also, you had never been this invested. Your eyes widened. You were invested in a person. Actually invested, invested in Min Yoongi. You looked up at him and he looked back curiously like a cat, not realizing your epiphany. Oh shit. Now this was even more weird.

Do something. Do something. Not that. Oh no, you’re doing it.

You held up the plethora of condoms. “Pick a card?”

Living alone made you too fucking weird.

“Aren’t they all the same?” Yoongi snickered.

You shifted, putting them back down on the bed. “Ahaha… right…” Your leg pressed against his and you jumped, startled. “You’re hard.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “When gorgeous tits are out, the human body reacts when there is attraction, even if you’re speaking nonsense.”

You blinked at him. “G-Gorgeous?”

Yoongi’s ears flushed pink and he reached over, ripping a condom off the others. “Y-Yeah…” He straightened, scooting back to between your legs, placing his hands on your shorts. “Ah… unless the mood is killed…”

“No,” you exclaimed, hands flying down to the waistband. “It is not. It is alive and well. Very well.”

Yoongi opened his mouth and shut it. Then he opened it again, smiling a little. “I’m beginning to think we are a bit strange.”

“it’s just because it’s the first time,” you rambled. “All first times are a bit strange.”

This wasn’t getting anywhere, so you yanked down your shorts and underwear at once, Yoongi gasping and snapping his head down as you kicked off your clothes, the sharp scent of your arousal suddenly very apparent. You felt your cheeks heat, unaware that you had such a strong reaction to Yoongi being above you, observing your wetness with round eyes, as if to say, I did that?

“Wow.” Yoongi raised his head, black bangs framing his beautiful eyes. “You’re stunning.”

Was it ever like this? Like every word was precious, every lyric in this song meaning more than the words themselves, like every single piece of the composition was perfect, special, everything pause-worthy, even the odd bits, you reaching up to cup his head, pulling Yoongi down for a kiss, him pushing his own pants down, sucking in a breath as your hand wrapped around him, moaning in his mouth, deepening the kiss, more erotic, more intense, his cock throbbing in your palm, getting harder by your touch, Yoongi whimpering in your mouth, backing off slowly, ripping the condom open, sliding it on, and you watching, oh, he’s beautiful there too.

“Thanks…?”

“… Uh, you’re welcome.”

You spoke out loud. Great.

“Do you need some prep?”

“Yoongi, please put it in before I say something stupid again–”

You cut yourself off as Yoongi pushed in slowly, both of you suddenly gasping at the sensation, you already wet enough because you had been thinking about this for so long, morning, night, morning, night, thinking about Yoongi, and if you could, if he was ready to have him inside you, filling you up, and it was happening, happening right now, sinking into you, looking into his eyes. And you could see the amazement, the wave of satisfaction that shimmered through his dark orbs, and the way Yoongi looked at you.

Like he was complete.

“I… oh, fuck…” His eyelids fluttered. “I might not be that good…”

“Are you kidding me, holy fuck, you feel fucking incredible,” you breathed, clenching around him, moaning softly at the perfection that was him, heart racing with every second. Your hands came up and held his cheeks, your breath hot and fluttering upwards. “You already feel so good, Yoongi. You can see it in my face, can’t you?”

His eyes searched yours, looking for the lie, the performance, but there was none, no need to lie when your hips were already slowly rocking into his, creating movement and pleasure, and he fell into the rhythm, complementing you. Your hands dropped and you put them over your head, grasping the pillows, letting out every cry and soft sound so Yoongi could hear and know this was the truth, your legs circling his slim waist. Yoongi bit his lip, breathing hard, whimpering a little.

“I mean… it’s been a while… and you feel too f-fucking good, oh fuck…”

You realized what he meant and you reached down with one hand, jolting as your fingertip touched your clit, rubbing it forcefully, shudders flying through you, gasping at your own stimulation, breasts pressing together, and Yoongi moaned, feeling you constrict and pulse around him, wetter, thrusting into you harder until there was a symphony of sound, heavy wanton breathing, slapping of skin on skin, chasing your climax as Yoongi chased his, eyes locked, almost there, almost there…

At the bridge.

Somehow you both knew the final chorus was coming.

“Yoongi…”

He breathed your name, drawing it out like the most precious word in this world.

You moaned deeply and it rushed through you, shooting up your torso and into your chest, an overwhelming pressure that took you under, making you throw your head back and gasp his name, pressing down on your clit to amplify every bolt of pleasure that made your muscles shake. Yoongi groaned, thrusting into you hard with his own gasp, cock jerking and shooting into the condom, surrounded by your suffocating embrace and you saw his eyes roll back a little, muscles in his arms tense, fingers bunching into the sheets, black hair sweaty and sticking to his face.

Hot breath mixing with yours, heavy pants of shared ecstasy.

“Whoa…”

His dark eyes flickered to yours, pupils blown out, blinking slowly as he exhaled. “W-What...?”

You felt your ears heat. “Oh… uh… it’s never been like that before. I’ve never felt… so much.”

A red flush bloomed over Yoongi’s cheeks. “Me neither…”

“Maybe we’re in love?” you offered lightheartedly.

A small smile grew on his lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

You began to raise yourself off the bed, but Yoongi put his hand on your collarbones quickly.

“Hold on. Let me get off first.”

“I’m not going to hit yo–“

“Ow!”

“Motherfuc–”

Press play.

fin.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #bts series

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yaku-soba · 4 years ago

Text

i’ve seen this film before (this is an old story)

༶•┈┈ oikawa tooru x gn!reader | angst

༶•┈┈ general m.list

tags/warnings: angst (with an okay ending), swear words, oikawa doesn’t become a pro, kinda college au, author was listening to the folklore album and also mother mother while writing this, i think that’s warning enough

word count: 1.48k

a/n: this was originally supposed to be some sort of prose poetry for my poetry sideblog but it didn’t work out so </3 also, trying out a somewhat new writing style hehe :3

“someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story.”

― richard siken, war of the foxes

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

it goes like this: you fight over something small (it's never just something small), and after a while with whom the fault lies doesn't matter anymore (a double-edged sword: the fighting and the screaming and the shouting and the mocking).

it goes like this: radio silence, no missed calls, no unopened texts. oikawa, a character study: lover becomes roommate becomes a shadow you see slipping out the door if you wake up early enough. take-out ordered for one, a bed too large and cold. blankets that swamp you.

it ends like this: you cave first (you always cave first). oikawa is too proud to apologize and you are too tired and it is easier to brush all the broken pieces of each other under the rug (it's old, you don't remember where it came from, only that it's the colour of mold and smells like mothballs, despite your best efforts) and pretend the we are fucked up, we are fucking this up away. you hate the way this story ends, there is no other ending to this story.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

"tooru," you say, and the click of the door as he shuts it behind him rings like a gunshot. "do you know what day it is?"

oikawa is breathtaking, as always. "no," he says, casting his eyes to the moldy rug at your feet and then away, off to the side, "what day is it?" oikawa is breathtaking, and as always, he's a bad liar.

you smile, make no effort to pull it to your eyes. "it's pasta day," you answer, and it's as hollow as the ring-pop he gave you as a promise when you were younger (when you had thought you were in love; when you were in love).

he nods. "thanks for cooking dinner." he chucks off his shoes and socks in an act of practiced nonchalance.

there is no pasta day.

"welcome home," you tell him belatedly. he hums, says nothing in return.

(stilted conversation: the second stage of a terminal relationship.)

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

once, you were young and in love.

it's been proven: youth and love makes one foolish.

the story, or the prologue - it goes like this: you meet oikawa at an impressionable age (the boy next door, the golden boy, the boy the coaches eye in a game, the boy all the girls talk about, the boy). he proceeds to make quite an impression on you (a burn from sparklers on a beach at a festival, a failed ollie that left a scar on your knee, bruised wrists from volleyball, the - invisible, but you know it’s there, just as oikawa knows - stitch over the exit wound in your chest). you grow up beside him and along the way, convince yourself that sticking with him is a natural progression (cherry blossoms bloom for only two weeks).

you and oikawa, him and you. it has always been the two of you. this story is very old, this story always ends the same way.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

you’re fucked up. you and oikawa, him and you - somewhere, along the way, you’d gotten fucked up. you don’t know who fucked it up first, it doesn’t matter anymore. (nothing matters but the brush of oikawa’s lips on your lips and the delicate flutter of his lashes and the rent that you cannot afford without a roommate).

oikawa is waiting on the couch when you come home (you came home later than usual - you’d seen him talking to a girl who had batted her lashes at him prettily the way he used to do to you). you shut the door behind you like a judge’s hammer, you slip out of your shoes and socks like water through earnest, cupped palms.

“late night?” he asks (no welcome home).

“yeah,” you reply (no i’m home). “i wanted to finish more of my project.”

oikawa hums, looks at you from beneath those damned lashes. “that essay?” he shifts, lifts his feet from the moldy-looking rug to sit cross-legged.

“yeah,” you say again. (you’d submitted the essay a month ago. you’re working on a presentation due in a week now).

“i ordered pizza,” oikawa says after a pause, “it should be arriving soon.”

you nod, step over the genkan and into the one-bedroom apartment. “thanks,” you tell him, “i’ll be right out.”

the bell rings while you’re changing into loungewear. you step out of the room just in time to see oikawa take the pizza out of the delivery girl’s hands - the same girl you’d seen touch his arm and smile (there is no home).

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

oikawa’s working part-time at a local diner that keeps long hours. you’re working on a degree.

here’s the thing: he could probably afford a one-bedroom apartment of his own if he’s smart about his money.

here’s the thing: you can’t.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

“someone has to leave first,” wakatoshi tells you over lunch, “richard siken said so.”

“who?” there’s a tear right down the middle of your carrot-heart.

“someone who left first, or someone who was left. does it really matter?”

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

here’s the point: oikawa with his long lashes and bedhead. oikawa’s sleepy smile in the mornings (you remember more than you know), the exact dip of his smile, the map you have of the lines of his palms.

the point is: oikawa staying out and not coming home (you stopped counting after the first month, but your heart still knows), waking up to a cold bed because oikawa started leaving earlier (to go the gym, he says). hesitancy in hands where there once was security, the subtle fall of a satellite out of orbit, the gradual fall out of the childhood familiarity of being young and in love. the point is -

the point is always oikawa.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

oikawa gets a new, better, actual job. he’s a volleyball coach at a high school, now.

you find out almost a month later, through takahiro and issei.

“oikawa’s confident they’ll make it to nationals this year,” issei says conversationally, sawing into his steak, “says his kids are promising.”

“what?” (you’ve seen this film before.)

“you know,” takahiro says, “the volleyball kids he’s coaching.” you did not know.

“ah,” you say anyway, fingers slipping around the fork in your hands and grasping onto the far edge of a cliff, “how could i forget.”

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

you finish your degree. you get a (relatively) stable job at a nearby design office.

here’s the thing: they pay you well for a fresh graduate. here’s the thing: you can probably afford a one-bedroom apartment of your own if you’re smart about your money.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

“i’m moving out,” you say the moment oikawa opens the door, “thank you for everything.” (despite everything, you mean it. he’s taught you so many things.)

he smiles (it looks the same as what you imagine you’d smiled like the day of your first anniversary). “okay,” he says, and you think that that’s that.

“i’m sorry,” he says after a moment.

“yeah,” you say, “i am too.”

“thank you,” he continues, eyes almost the same shade as the day he’d brought you on a picnic, “i’ll always love you, you know that, right?”

you do (you feel the same, it is not the same love as when you had been fourteen and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen, but it is still love).

“me too,” you say because there is nothing else to say, “you’re important to me. you’ll always be important to me.” it’s true: he was your first kiss and your first love and your first best friend and the first person you’re leaving first.

oikawa smiles, and disappears into the bathroom.

you stare at the ugly rug at your feet.

“is this okay?” you ask the broken pieces of you and him (curled around the jagged edges of each other, thorn to petal, bruise to open wound), “this is an okay ending, right?”

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

here’s the point: oikawa as the boy you loved, oikawa as your youth, oikawa as a part of the past you will always hold close but not be held behind by.

a study in relationships: someone will always leave first, it is a very old story.

introspection and a universal truth: youth and love makes one foolish, being foolish is not always a bad thing.

the point is: someone will always leave first, sometimes people fall out of love, sometimes familiarity is not enough to hold them together.

an old story, another universal truth: someone will always leave first, it is not always a bad ending.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! :D do drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist :”)

p.s if you liked this, it would Be Cool if you leave me an ask / scream in the reblog tags because it would satisfy my need for validation 💔💔

#oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuucreations #oikawa tooru #haikyuu!!#kyouka writes

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.13 Kino [Track 1]

Original title: ひとさじの悪戯

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 13 Kino [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (00:00 ~ 15:27)

Seiyuu: Tomoaki Maeno

Translator’s note: I remember when I started translating More, More Blood, it was the first set of drama CDs released after I joined the franchise, so it was a pretty important project to me. I would have liked to finish translations for all 13 CDs before Daylight dropped, but I didn’t quite succeed at doing that. It’s just Kino’s and then Kanato’s left though! Unfortunately I haven’t been able to get my hands on the audio for the latter. > < Kino is still somewhat of a mystery to me, but I do think the plot of these CDs fit him the best out of all of the boys since he’s such a trickster at heart. I’m sure he’ll have a blast tormenting the MC with the time-manipulating powers of the hourglass.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 1: A Spoonful of Mischief

The scene starts at school.

“Aaah, shut up, shut up. School really is such a noisy place, isn’t it? All of those pesky humans are completely absorbed in their conversations”

Kino turns his head towards you.

“Before I started attending this academy, were you like that as well? Chatting with your friends and laughing out loud like absolute fools.”

You explain.

“Hmー I see. You wouldn’t have guessed that by your current behavior. Both in the classroom and in the hallway, you’re always glued to my side. Do you actually have friends?”

You tell him you have friends over at your own classroom.

“Ah! Right! This isn’t the sophomore’s classroom you belong in, but my classroom. I guess it makes sense you wouldn’t have any upperclassman friends you can just have a casual chat with.”

You puff out your cheeks, blaming him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I forced you to come here. ...But I had no other choice, did I? Class or whatever, it’s all just boring crap when you’re not around. I got tired of living in the Demon World and became a high school student, so now I have to make the best of it and enjoy it to the fullest! Which means you need to be there sitting next to me.”

*Rustle*

“Besides, it isn’t all bad, is it? You’re super lucky to be able to take the senior’s classes! If anything, you should express your gratitude towards me.”

You seem worried about getting into trouble with the school.

“Ah, you’re worried about that? It’s fine. Nobody will complain. I’m the infamous mysterious transfer student after all. Leaving the students aside for now, even the teachers seem to be having a hard time calling me out. I’ll use this opportunity to do as I please.”

You slowly nod.

“Exactly. So you should enjoy your school life as well.”

You ask if he is having fun.

“Me? Hmm~? Let’s see...All of the extra attention I get as a scholarship student is a little annoying, but I’ve never gotten to attend school before, so I guess you could say I’m enjoying it in my own way. I suppose it was worth coming here as a transfer student. ...Besides, I kind of like this uniform as well. It just screams that I’m special! Pretty nice, huh? I didn’t like looking the same as everyone else, so I added my own little spin to it. What do you think? Does it look good?”

You tell him it looks good.

“...I see. Well, that’s a given.”

*Ding・dongー Ding・dongー*

“...Oh. Next period is starting. Better start getting everything ready.”

You giggle.

“Haah...? Hey, why did you laugh just now?”

You note that he is becoming more and more student-like.

“What? You’re making fun of me, aren’t you? Anyone would get the hang of the student life after going through a few classes.”

The teacher enters the classroom.

“...Say, don’t you think you’ve become a little cheeky as of late? You haven’t been holding back ever since we became lovers.”

You seem skeptical, raising a brow.

“No, you have. I might have been spoiling you a little too much as of late, so perhaps it’s time I give you a severe punishment. ...Fufufu~ Now how should I punish you? I’ll give it some thought! ...Ah, right! That made me remember...!”

You tilt your head to the side.

“You know, the thing you asked earlier. Whether school life is fun or not. There’s a perfect proof that I’m enjoying every day to the fullest.”

You frown.

“Right now it’s still a secret. More importantly, don’t you think you should focus on the class? ...See? The teacher has started writing stuff down on the blackboard.”

You turn around and open your textbook.

*Flip*

“He seems to be writing down a bunch of dull nonsense again. Class really is boring. Especially this history one. I guess this is the one subject I just can’t enjoy regardless. I have zero interest in what humans accomplished in the past after all. On these occasions...Guess it’s already my time to shine.”

He taps your shoulder.

“...Hey, hey!”

You turn your head.

“This class is boring, so you should play with me.”

You tell him you can’t right now.

“But I’m bored! ...So let me suck your blood. Show me how you desperately endure it while suppressing your voice. Like you did during yesterday’s lecture. I’d love to see that expression again.”

You turn around again.

*Scribble scribble*

“...Ah. The cold shoulder, huh? Hey! Just forget about the blackboard and turn my way.”

*Scribble scribble*

“Hmm~ You’re still ignoring me...In that case, I’ll just do as I please. Right! Perhaps I should just make your voice slip and catch everyone’s attention? That might be fun~”

You flinch.

“Fufu~ You looked my way. Honestly, that idea might be way more fun. I’m sure you’d become the talk of the school for doing such a thing during class. I don’t mind either way...Which do you prefer? I’ll let you choose today.”

You protest.

“...Haah!? Hey! Stop fighting back! Are you trying to ruin my daily fun?”

You perk up your head.

“Ah! You finally what realized what i meant earlier? Yes, exactly! This is the ultimate proof that I’ve been enjoying every day to the fullest. I’m sure you understand how I feel, no? There is nothing more fun than sucking your blood during class. Seeing you frantically try to hide it, or your panicked expression whenever our cover is nearly blown...It’s a blessing to the eyes. Your desperate attempts at listening to the teacher while having your blood sucked aren’t a bad watch either. It’s hilarious to see you try and keep your act together while you’re enduring it. This is something I wouldn’t be able to do if I wasn’t attending school.”

*Rustle*

“...So, you understand now, don’t you? I’m out here enjoying my school life, so don’t ruin that, okay? Got it?”

You frown.

“Don’t hesitate. Come on, this way...I’ll be so nice to suck from your arm today so it won’t stand out.”

*Thud*

“Hurry up. Give me your arm already.”

*Rustle*

“I love it when you’re obedient.”

*Rustle*

“Your veins are shining through, I can see them well. Your sweet blood is flowing underneath here, isn’t it? Looks delicious...”

*Smooch*

“Fufufu...I’ve gotten thirsty. If you don’t want the others to find out, then you better hold back with all you’ve got?”

Kino bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Haah~ Delicious. ...Ah, you’re actually enduring it~ ...Say, your face is quite the sight right now. Your cheeks are flushed bright red. I can clearly tell you’ve worked up a sweat too. Your sweat smells sweet as well. Hey, you’re only making me less likely to be able to stop, you know? Guess that’s fine. I don’t need to hold myself back after all. ...I’m sure you’re aware, but you can easily endure this much. That would be dull, don’t you think? I guess I have no other choice...but to force some screams out of you!”

He bites you again, stronger this time.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Ah. Fufufu~ You finally let a shriek slip, didn’t you? ...Take a look around. Because of you, all the students in class have got their eyes on us.”

You look around.

“Ah-aaah~ I’m sure you won’t have it easy from tomorrow onwards. Everyone will talk about how you were doing suspicious things in class~ What will you do?”

You panic.

“...Say? You want me to do something about it?”

You ask if he can do that.

“Guess so. I might be able to fix this situation. I got my hands on a nifty little item yesterday.”

*Cling*

“This. Take a look.”

You raise a brow and ask if it is an hourglass.

“Correct. However, it isn’t just your average hourglass. When this red sand is flipped around and flows downwards, time turns back.”

You seem surprised.

“I guess just an explanation doesn’t do the trick, huh? Let’s put it to the test. ...Here I go!”

Kino turns the hourglass upside down.

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

*Ding・dongー Ding・dongー*

“...Oh. Next period is starting. Better start getting everything ready. ーー Sike! Fufufu~ See? I turned back time to when class was starting.”

The teacher enters the room again, leaving you baffled.

“I’m not lying. ...I hate lies after all. Take a look at the blackboard. It’s still completely blank. ...See? The teacher’s going to start writing on it now.”

*Scribble scribble*

“The bell rang as well and above all...Nobody is paying attention to us. That proves time has been turned back and the same events are repeating itself.”

You seem confused.

“How, you ask? ...Fine, I’ll teach you. It’s strange how I got my hands on this, no?”

*Thud*

“I obtained this hourglass by pure coincidence during my last short trip to the Demon World. There’s magical energy stored inside, so it can rewind time a couple of hours. On top of that, the user has has full control over the memories of those affected. There’s several ways to enjoy it, don’t you think?”

You tell Kino you can’t comprehend.

“Hm? You don’t understand? This time, I kept only our memories intact when I rewinded time. To further proof my point, you recall what happened earlier, don’t you? However! The other students don’t. ...Want to confirm it? Try and tell me what we were doing earlier.”

You get flustered.

“Don’t be so embarrassed. Come on, hurry.”

You admit to having your blood sucked.

“Exactly. So, who was sucking blood from your arm?”

You reply.

“Mmh, mmh~ Right. It was me. And? How did I feed off you? And what kind of sounds did you make? I need to confirm these things, so be honest, okay?”

You hesitantly answer.

“Fufu~ Yes, good job. I’m proud of you for being able to tell me so accurately. Well, there you have it. No matter how much you embarrass yourself in public, as long as we have this hourglass to our disposal, we can manipulate time and people’s memories freely. In game terms, we can load up our preferred save file. What do you think? Bet you’re surprised?”

You nod.

“Makes sense! ...I doubt these kind of things exist in the human world. ...I got my hand on such an interesting gadget so using this bad boy...I’ll make sure to play with you plenty today”

Your eyes widen in surprise.

“You’re blown off your feet! ...Well then, now how to use this~?”

*Cling*

“I guess I found yet another way to enjoy my school life? Fufufu...~!”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kino #diabolik lovers more more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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the-himawari · 3 years ago

Text

A3! Ikaruga Misumi - Translation [SR] Banquet of Blooming (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Muku: We’ve finished seeing the guests off!

Izumi: Great job, everyone.

Yuki: Good job.

Kumon: The audience members were super happy with the stamp souvenirs from Sumi-san!

Misumi: Ehehe, I’m glad~!

Tenma: Alright, then should we go change?

Misumi: Yeah!

Kazunari: Ah, hold up, hold up! Sumi has his polaroid, doesn’t he!

Misumi: Ah~! That’s right!

Yuki: Oh yeah, the present project the money grubbing yakuza mentioned.

Izumi: Right, right. Let’s take it right away then. Are you ready?

Kazunari: Sumi! Strike that miraculously adorbs flower pose piko!

Misumi: OK~!

Izumi: 3, 2, 1—.

*click*

Kazunari: How is it? Did it come out well~?

Izumi: Yeah! Look at that smile!

Kumon: Show us, Director, show us!

Tenma: Isn’t that great?

Yuki: It’s got Misumi’s vibe, so the audience will like it too.

Muku: Wahh, it’s such a lovely photo!

Misumi: Hehe~, thanks~! I wanna press the Triangle-kun stamp here too~.

Izumi: Umm, yeah, maybe you should hold off on pressing the stamp here…

Misumi: Oh, okay~.

Izumi: Instead, sign it and return it to me later, alright?

Misumi: Yep, got it~.

-pause-

Muku: Sorry for the wait! We’ve changed.

Kumon: Alright, let’s head out!

Izumi: (That reminds me, they said they were all going out together after the screening party.)

Misumi: Director-san, can you keep these for me~?

Izumi: Are these the paper airplanes you all made during the talk show?

Misumi: Yeah! I’ll take them back later~. ‘Kay then, we’ll be off!

Tenma: See you.

Yuki: We’re going.

Kazunari: Laters!

Izumi: Take care!

-pause-

Izumi: I guess this paper airplane is Yuki-kun’s, and this one here is Tenma-kun’s? (They’re all so unique… fufu, they’re just like Summer troupe.) *Yawn*… (Today kind of wore me out… I’m starting to feel sleepy…)

*dream starts*

Izumi: …? Where is this place? It looks like the inside of a cave… Is that huge trunk… a treasure chest? The inside looks empty though. (…Hm? This situation feels familiar. Could it be—.)

???: Treasure spotted—… Hm? Oi, oi~. It’s not treasure, it’s a young lass.

Izumi: Misumi-kun… no, that’s not it… You’re Captain Sky, aren’t you? (I've been having lots of dreams about characters that appear in our shows lately. I guess I'm getting used to it.)

Sky: How do you know my name? …HA! I see. I’ve also become famous, have I? Hahaha, I am sailing the seas in search of all sorts of treasure after all! But wow~, to think I’m already a celebrity!

Izumi: Um… I'm sorry to say this while you’re so happy, but it looks like the treasure chest here is empty.

Sky: WHAT!? *Sigh*, again…? Well, alas, I’m used to it by now. Besides… I’ve found a prize that’s better than any treasure.

Izumi: A prize better than any treasure?

Sky: It’s you, lass. What say you? Won’t you join the sky pirates?

Izumi: EHH!? (Wait, he took my hand before I realized…)

*canons fire*

Izumi: !?

Sky: Tch. It’s the pesky navy, huh? We’ll talk later. Come now, this way!

Izumi: H-hold on a minute—!

*dream ends*

Izumi: Mm…

Misumi: Ah, you woke up, Director-san?

Izumi: Huh… Misumi-kun?

Misumi: Yep! I came to get the paper airplanes~.

Izumi: (I dozed off at my desk.)

Misumi: Are you tired, Director-san~?

Izumi: Hmm, just a little, but I guess so. (I’ve been having lots of dreams like that…)

Misumi: … Ah, I know! Hey, hey, Director-san. Give me your hand?

Izumi: Like this?

Misumi: Triangle-kun stamp—plop! You worked hard and you did well, Director-san~.

Izumi: (I got a Triangle-kun stamp on my palm…)

Option 1: “I’m happy”

Izumi: Fufu, I’m happy. I feel better already.

Misumi: Really? I’m glad~!

Izumi: Thank you, Misumi-kun.

Misumi: You’re welcome! I’ll give you looots of triangles that’ll make you smile from now on too!

Izumi: Fufu, thank you.

Option 2: “It’s a cute stamp”

Izumi: It’s a cute stamp. It really came out well.

Misumi: Ehehe~, it was really interesting making it too~! Let’s make triangle stamps together next time, Director-san!

Izumi: Sounds good. I’d love to try making one too.

Misumi: Yay~! I can’t wait to make them together~. Press your stamp on my hand first after you finish it, ‘kay?

Izumi: Yeah. You got it.

Misumi: It’s a promise!

Izumi: That being said, your hands are cold, Misumi-kun. Did you go somewhere?

Misumi: All of us went to see the huge winter triangle together~.

Izumi: The huge winter triangle?

Misumi: It’s a big, sparkling triangle you can see in the night sky!

Izumi: Ah, could you mean the Winter Triangle constellation?

Misumi: That’s the one! Kazu found a place with a good view and told me about it!

Izumi: I see, so that’s what happened. Did you make a wish to the stars of the Winter Triangle?

Misumi: Mm~… You see~. I wished to keep creating the best plays together with everyone in Summer troupe. I wished to find looots of wonderful triangles…

Izumi: Fufu, you asked for a lot.

Misumi: Ehehe~. And also… I wished to play with paper airplanes with Madoka.

Izumi: (…That reminds me, I happened to see Madoka-kun during the day. It would’ve been great if he met with Misumi-kun.) (But, for some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t mention it to him right now.) …It’ll come true. I’m sure of it.

Misumi: …Yeah!

---

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#a3!#a3! translation #ikaruga misumi #act! addict! actors!

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bubblesuga · 4 years ago

Text

Special-Tea

Summary: Yoongi’s always been a coffee man. When stuck at the studio in the early hours of the morning, he craves caffeine. The only problem with that is there’s no coffee shops open at three in the morning. So, he finds himself at the next best thing, a 24 hour tea shop where he finds you.

Warnings: cussing, smut, shower sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving)

W/C: 4,798

It’s too early for this.

Or maybe it’s too late.

Yoongi isn’t sure. In fact, he’s pretty sure his clock stopped working three hours ago. Unless the last few minutes have felt like hours, then Yoongi was on the verge of tearing every piece of equipment from the wall and smashing it into a million pieces.

Yoongi’s been working on this album for far too long. His fingers are cramped from continuously playing the same three notes over and over just hoping and praying that something will come to him. He’s confused more than anything. Before he had no problem spitting out 2 or 3 songs in a day, recording demos and having the studio ready to record for the other members the following day.

Lately, however, he’s lucky if he can even get a concept for a song down. It’s like his mind has been clouded over with writers block and he’s not getting anywhere. Like someone sucked his ability to compose music right from his brain with a straw.

He tosses the pen he had been anxiously tapping on the desk into his bag, along with his notebook, and he stands abruptly.

Scoffing at his phone, he glares at the black 4:37 on the screen while the elevator in the BigHit offices slides downward. There’s no coffee shops open yet, there has to be something though. He just needs caffeine, though he could really go for an iced americano with-

“Special-tea...?” He raises an eyebrow at his phone, Google holding up options for the nearest place selling caffeinated beverages. Rolling his eyes, he begins the short journey to the one 24 hour shop within a five mile radius.

What kind of a name is ‘Special-tea’? Who sat in an office and thought, ‘ah you know what? Let’s name a tea shop but make it punny.’

“Stupid.” He grumbles to himself. He’s well aware that he’s far too tired to be having human interaction right now but he needs to get some progress done. At this point he’ll take a ghost of a song.

Stepping into the tea shop, he’s overwhelmed by the smell of flowers. Undeniably strong, he takes a moment to collect his thoughts before stepping all the way in. As the door chimes, he hears a gasp and a patter of foot steps.

“Welcome to Special-tea! How are you doing today?”

The voice is loud, echoing off of the various shelves scattered around the shop with loose tea for sale. He whips his head towards the register, spotting you.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He didn’t realize how sore his voice was from attempting to record backing vocals earlier in the day, but it came out gruff and quiet. A stark contrast to the bubbly barista in front of him, her nose dusted in flour and a messy apron protecting her clothes. Well, attempting at least, because Yoongi has to hold back a smile when he notices hand prints of flour on your backside.

“What can I get you this morning?” you question, leaning over the counter and causing Yoongi to blush when he notices the way you’re smiling. When you meet his eyes, Yoongi can tell you recognize him. For a moment he feels the need to brace himself, but soon realizes you’re calm.

Yoongi returns a smile, haphazardly running his fingers through his hair. “Dumb question, but do you guys sell coffee?”

“Coffee? No, but we do sell black earl grey. I’m told that’s a close comparison as far as bitterness goes,” You explain, turning to the shelf behind you and pulling out a bag of tea, “you’re welcome to smell it if you like.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning forward and sniffing the bag. He backs away quickly and watches you bite your lip to stifle a laugh, “It’s not exactly a new tea drinker’s type of tea.”

“I’m not really a new tea drinker,” he grumbles, wiping his nose, “I’m a tea drinker only in times of desperation.”

She smiles again, “What causes said desperation?”

Yoongi rolls his neck, “I’m trying to write another song. Get the ball rolling to finishing up an album.”

“BE, right? I’ve heard good things about the process,” you say softly, surprising Yoongi by your admission to being a fan, “I figured it would be finished already?”

His eyes stay trained on you as you turn back to the shelves, rummaging through various boxes of tea. It takes him a moment to realize what your question was, so he sucks in a breath, “Ah, yeah. It’s nearly there, we just need one more track because one of them got trashed.”

Why is he revealing so much to a stranger? Namjoon is going to kill him.

“Trashed? Why’s that?”

“We realized the song itself didn’t follow any of the messages we wanted to put out there.”

Damn it, Yoongi. Stop talking.

You finally stop rummaging and pull out a bag of tea without showing Yoongi. He tries to catch a glimpse but instead watches as you boil more water and begin steeping the tea.

“What kind of message did it have?” You ask, leaning backward against the counter and crossing your arms. Having expected a follow up question, Yoongi swiftly dismisses it, “What kind of tea are you making?”

“The kind you drink.” You smirk.

He lowers his gaze at you, “It’s kind of your job to tell the customer what they’re getting.”

You laugh, “Alright. Jasmine green tea. It’s subtle enough that it won’t get your coffee loving tongue in a twist, and has enough caffeine to keep you up to finish whatever you’re working on.”

Yoongi is happy with this response, taking the time to lean away from the counter and gaze around the shop. It’s small, something he’s definitely not used to from coffee shops. The earthy smells from earlier have dwindled down to a nice summery scent, lavender filling his nose the closer he got to the register.

As much as he tried to keep his eyes away from the cute girl behind the counter, he couldn’t help but turn back and watch you as you organize various things. Something about the way your hair slips from the messy bun it’s in and your charismatic way of helping him while also providing a sense of normalcy drew him in in a way he has never experienced before.

“Order up, Suga.”

He shakes his head from his gaze, walking back up to the counter and pulling out his wallet.

“On me,” you say, “besides... don’t want to make you pay for something you may not like.”

Yoongi nods, murmuring a small ‘thank you’ and bringing the cup up to his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he reaches for his wallet and pulls out a 10000 won bill, stuffing it in the tip jar. He gives you a small smile, thanking you again as he turns towards the door.

“Wait!” you call, “What do you think?”

Yoongi raises his hand up just before he walks out of the door, “It’s delicious!”

The smile on your face was worth Yoongi’s little white lie.

~*~*~

“Alright, this is great! We’ll record tomorrow, yeah?” Seokjin speaks for the entire group as Yoongi plays them the demo of the song he was finally able to right. There were a few jabs here and there about the auto tune Yoongi likes to utilize, but other than that it was well received.

The only person he could think was you, though, because if he hadn’t have tasted that tea he would have never thought of writing what he did.

“How did you manage to spit out something like this in a night?” Jungkook teases, patting Yoongi’s shoulder softly.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi chuckles, clicking sound files around and creating a copy of his demo.

Jungkook grins, “Who’s the girl that made you think of that?”

“No girl,” he defends, “a good writer doesn’t need actual experiences. All from the imagination, young Jungkookie.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “I’m pretty sure that’s not the case at all.”

Yoongi shushes him, saving his project one more time before deciding to kick everyone out and lock the studio.

Of course they’re going to find out eventually what happened. Especially since Park Jimin follows Yoongi to the elevator. Once they’re the only ones inside, Jimin turns to his Hyung, “Tell me about the girl.”

Yoongi, knowing that no one else could read him better than Jimin, sighs in defeat. “She’s gorgeous. Her nose had flour on it, her hair was messy, and she was everything that I’m not used to. She has a smirk- god the way she smiles- it just makes me melt for her.”

Jimin seems pleased with this answer, “and you’re going to see her now?”

“Yep.”

The bell above his head is a welcoming sound. This time you’re not waiting in the back. Instead, you’re counting money at the register as he enters. This time you wore a purple apron, and it’s clean compared to a couple of days ago. You still haven’t looked up, so Yoongi walks slowly up to the counter and taps his fingers twice.

“Ah- Yoongi! Good evening, what can I get you started today?”

“The same as last time, please.” Yoongi grins, watching you carefully as you nod at him and turn on your heel and kick on the kettle. The way the straps of the apron tie right above the curve of your back has Yoongi’s mind beginning to wander. It’s been years since he even thought of looking at a woman like this in person, but for some reason when it comes to you he just can’t stop.

“So,” you break the silence, “how did that song writing go?”

“Oh,” his cheeks are a rosy pink, “it went well. I showed the other members the demo and we’re recording it tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.” You grin, pouring the water over the tea bags. Yoongi thanks you quietly and pulls out his wallet once more. You shake your head, “Nope. Your last tip was enough to cover your next 3 drinks.”

Yoongi nods, “Oh okay.” but then ignores you, slipping another 10000 won bill into the tip jar. Just as you’re about to open your mouth in protest, Yoongi sends you a wink and salutes on his way out before he closes the door behind him.

~*~*~

Your alarm is too loud.

It’s like a banshee screeching in your ear, like a baby crying, like a rooster crowing. You groaned loudly at the sound and threw your hand on top of it, rolling out of bed to drag yourself to the shower.

It’s been a few weeks since Yoongi became a regular to your work. The initial star struck feeling you got when you were around him had dwindled away, and now you feel you can call him a friend.

Your routine was as follows: Yoongi enters the shop, you make him his drink, and he stays and distracts you for a while. Much against everything you stand for, you drop everything to talk to him. It causes you to have to move much faster than usual on your prep work but you didn’t mind, because you loved seeing the way Yoongi would laugh at your jokes.

You feel like you know the man beyond the idol. The person who hides under the shadow of a stoic demeanor is bright. The way you perceived him prior to actually knowing him was wrong. He is, without a single doubt in your mind, the most interesting man on the planet.

When you arrived at work, your evening worker is already willing to go.

“I counted the safe and there’s some money missing. If Summer asks, it wasn’t me.” Flora says, shrugging her shoulders.

“Okay,” you raise an eyebrow, walking towards the back, “any orders?”

“Uh, yeah!” you hear her call, “chocolate covered strawberries for 6!”

“Awesome-- thank you!” You call back just as the door dings and Flora exits the store. You take a moment to walk through the kitchen to make sure everything is set up and then you pull your apron over your head.

The doorbell dings and you can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“What’ll it be today, Mr. Min?” You still stand in the back, glancing in the mirror to make sure you look your best.

“Honey butter croissant,” he yells back, “how did you know it was me?”

When you’re happy with your look, you finally walk to the front and smile, “So we’re changing it up today, are you okay? You sick or something?”

“I just wanted something new,” Yoongi looks different today. He’s dressed in a cream cardigan and black jeans, the usual rose tint to his cheeks is a bit stronger today.

“Okay, I’ll have to bake some new ones. It’ll take about 20 minutes if you’re willing to wait.” You explain, with an unsure smile.

Yoongi looks around for a moment, “Ugh, I guess I can wait.”

“Awesome,” you speak, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

As you walk towards the back, Yoongi listens carefully to you humming along to a song that’s been stuck in your head for days. You pull out a couple of fresh croissants and prep a baking sheet. Sticking it into the oven, you brush the flour from your hands onto your apron and walk back to the front.

Yoongi jumps up from his phone when he notices you standing in front of him. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him, the freckles across your nose easing him into a sense of comfort. “Do you plan on telling me why you kept ordering a drink you hate?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, “Now why on Earth would you think that I hate it?”

“Welp,” you laugh, “you’re usually my only customer at night, and every morning I would check the outside garbage to see if it needed to be changed, yet the only thing I would find is a full cup of tea, with your name on it.”

For a moment, Yoongi was silent. He stumbles over his thoughts in an attempt to come up with some type of excuse. Something to hide why he had been coming here all this time. Yet, he couldn’t. So instead he looks up from his chair and smirks, “How else was I supposed to talk to the pretty girl at the tea shop?”

You swallow, your mind racing a million miles a second. Before you have the chance to respond, he stands. His body is close, and he smells so good. His cologne is expensive, herbal and earthy, and it makes you want to bury your nose into his neck and inhale. His eyes, the usual dark brown has turned into honey, drawing you in and keeping you there.

“You could have asked me on a date, we could have gone from there.” You shrug, feeling Yoongi’s calloused hand gently push away a stray hair behind your ear. He doesn’t move it afterwards, though, instead his thumb finds home on your cheekbone, stroking gently. His face has shifted, and he laughs. Almost bitterly, causing your heart to sink.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in the types of dates I get. You see,” his other hand slithers around your waist, “we get long walks in the park but we have to wear a mask and a hat. We get picnics by streams late enough at night that we know no one will be around. Sometimes we can slip away to another country where we pray that no one recognizes us, but with my schedule that thought is laughable at best.”

“What if I like long walks in the park with masks and late night picnics?” You breath, the look in your eyes stirring Yoongi’s heart.

“Then I guess we’d have to give it a shot, wouldn’t we?” He whispers. Your eyes flutter from his eyes to his lips, silently begging him to close the gap. You could sense his hesitancy, though. It blossoms from his chest and heats up his entire body but for some reason he’s frozen, completely still. He’s fighting, urging himself to lean forward and kiss you but he can’t move.

Good news for him, though, because you take a moment to lean up and press your lips against his softly. It’s gentle, easing him into the feeling of you so close to him. His lips taste of mint chocolate, causing you to smile into the kiss. It takes a moment, and for a second you’re hoping that you didn’t read the situation wrong until finally, he kisses back. It’s eager, introducing his tongue to yours and grinning idly into the kiss.

You allow him to back you up against the counter, boxing you in and surrounding you completely. His hands move down and pull your hips close to his, feeling the strain of his cock against his jeans.

“We’re entering dangerous territory here, baby.” Yoongi speaks, pulling away just a little bit. His eyes stay closed and his breath is hot on your face.

“How so?” You whisper, afraid of the answer but also intrigued. He doesn’t respond, instead capturing your lips and breaking the kiss repeatedly. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders and he smiles at the knowledge that you’re enjoying this just as much as he is.

A groan fills the air when you finally buck your hips towards him. In a feverish attempt to feel more, you wrap your legs around his waist and hang from his shoulders. Just as you’re about to slip your hand between your bodies, the timer on the oven blares through the building, shattering the small walls you built around the two of you.

“Fuck--” you gently pull away, “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Quickly, you slip off the counter and rush to the oven. You pull out the croissants and douse them in honey butter from the fridge. You watch the butter melt for a moment, collecting your thoughts.

Did that just happen? Did that actually hap-

When you walk back out, Yoongi’s hands are clasped behind his back. He mutters a small thank you as you hand him the plate. He rips off a corner of the pastry, and pops it into his mouth.

There’s a beat of silence. One-- two-- then he speaks.

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, I work hard on them.”

~*~*~

“And you just left her?!”

Oh god. Yoongi has never seen Jimin so angry before. The small man can yell louder than ever imagined, and Yoongi would be lying if he said that he wasn’t scared.

A mere 30 hours ago, Yoongi had his tongue buried in your mouth and he was the happiest man on the planet. Then it changed quickly once he realized what exactly this could entail. Even though he wanted nothing more than to bend you over the dough table and take you roughly while you scream his name, he couldn’t help but over think.

Standing in Jimin’s living room, he expected to be comforted and given some nice advice from his friend. Instead he’s learning that he pulled a bad move.

“You’re supposed to be giving me advice, not yelling at me!” Yoongi yells back, gesturing his hands wildly. Even though he’s scared, he can’t help but defend himself to a certain extent.

“Hyung, I thought you’d have enough intelligence not to kiss her and run!”

Yoongi groans and drops onto the couch, his face falling into his hands, “The things I was feeling scared me.”

“Oh my god, go to the tea shop!”

~*~*~

Yoongi spots a customer at the register. He opens the door quietly, the break of dawn just behind the mountains. This was different to Yoongi’s usual time and you know that, your eyes going wide in surprise while you finish ringing up the last customer.

Once Yoongi hears the heels clack against the tile and the door open, he rounds the shelf and walks up to you.

“I’m sorry I left so quickly yesterday. I just- I got scared. I wasn’t sure how to approach the situation but after thinking over it I realized that I really need you to kiss me again,” Yoongi speaks fast, quicker than you’ve heard him before and it takes a moment for the words to settle in your mind, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You breathe out a laugh, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his again. This time it’s slow and soft, different but Yoongi loves every second of it. The minute you kiss him, you taste coffee. You hold back another laugh, pulling away with mock hurt, “You cheated.”

Yoongi brows furrow, “I don’t follow.”

“You drink coffee and then come try to sweep tea shop girl off her feet? Cheater!” You tease, putting your hand on your chest as though you’re in pain.

Yoongi grins, “You’re crazy. I would never drink coffee, not when I can taste you. You’re probably going to have to kiss me to make sure.”

You gnaw your lip, leaning upward and pressing a kiss to him again. He giggles against your lips, a sound that you will never get sick of. You pull away much to both of your dismay, “Let me take you back to my apartment. It’s small but it’s big enough for the two of us.”

He agrees instantly.

Yoongi waits in the car while your relief shows up and you clean up. He taps his feet against the pedals anxiously, the thought of what could happen exciting him. You have clouded his mind for a weeks now and as you skip out of the building and hop into Yoongi’s passenger seat, he can’t wait to get his hands on you.

He follows your directions, his hand resting on your thigh as he tries not to speed. When he pulls into the parking lot, you lead him up the stairs to your apartment.

Nervously, you toss your bag onto the couch, “It’s not much. . . but it works for me.”

Yoongi grins, “It’s quaint. Cute.” He reaches forward and wraps his arms around you in a back hug. You welcome it, craning your neck to kiss him.

“I need a shower. Join me?”

Yoongi nods, “Yes please.”

There’s a thumb in your chest louder than you’ve ever felt before. This is actually happening. Min Yoongi, is being lead to your bathroom and you’re about to shower with him.

Yoongi doesn’t waste much time once the door is shut behind you. He latches his lips onto your neck, tugging at the hem of your shirt and easing it over your head.

“I want to make sure you want this as much as I do.” Yoongi says breathlessly as he catches a glimpse of your bare chest. You don’t respond verbally, but you look him directly in the eye as you slip your pants and panties off in one swoop.

You stand in the shower, turning on the water and peaking your head behind the curtain, “What’s taking you so long?”

Yoongi moves fast as he tears off his own clothing, and you close the curtain so you don’t spot his body too quickly. Building suspense for yourself, you wet your hair under the warm water and feel your muscles relax after your long day of work. Although your eyes are closed, your ears are trained on Yoongi. He steps behind you, continuing his assault on your neck.

You sigh happily, but everything changes the minute Yoongi opens his mouth.

“Spread your legs, baby. I’ll hold you up.”

Instantly you feel your cunt clenching around nothing (unfortunately). You immediately allow Yoongi to guide your leg to the edge of the tub. He slides a finger in between your folds, collecting your wetness all while his lips trail kisses across your chest.

Finally you allow yourself to open your eyes, gasping at the image in front of you. Yoongi’s body is as rosy as his cheeks, his knees on the bottom of the floor and his face level with your heat.

“Ah, now you open your eyes.” He smirks, and doesn’t give you much warning as he licks a long stripe from your heat to your clit. You instantly moan, tossing your head back and bracing yourself against the wall of the shower.

He moves ruthlessly, consuming you like a starved man. The feeling of him against you doesn’t compare to the imagine in front of you. His fingers reach between your folds and pump in and out of you while he continues to nip and suck mercilessly at your clit. He looks up at you through his lashes, and you swear you feel him smirk against you as he speeds up his thrusts and sucks as hard as he can.

“You look so good like this,” you moan, “your tongue feels so good.”

Yoongi pulls away to let out a groan, “Fuck.” His chest is heaving and he reaches a hand down to squeeze his shaft for a moment of relief, then he stands.

“Think you can hold your leg up for a moment, baby?” Yoongi instructs, laying a kiss on your forehead as you spot his hand pumping himself a few more times. You nod silently, allowing yourself to relish in his glistening skin as he runs the head of his cock over your slit. You appreciate his concern, and you know he’s going to take care of you after he’s finished ruining you. You couldn’t be more excited as Yoongi’s cock continues to slip over you.

For a moment you feel him enter, both of you gasping at the contact but just as quickly as he enters, he slips out.

“No,” you shake your head, “please no teasing. Fuck me.”

Yoongi gives you a devilish grin, his hand holding up your thigh once again as he finally begins to push into you. He takes pleasure in the way that your lips part with every inch that he pushes in. Yoongi was proud of his size, and your reaction further fuels his ego. Finally, he bottoms out and you’re rewarded with being filled to the hilt with nothing but Yoongi.

He moans your name in your air after you adjust to his size, beginning to thrust faster. “So... tight. Fuck.” He sinks his teeth into your collarbone, relishing in the feeling of your nails scratching into his back. He can’t bare to leave your cunt for more than a few seconds, because the way you clench tightly around him was the closest thing to Heaven on Earth that he’s ever experienced. Every one of his thrusts is meant with a rewarding moan from you, your juices coating his cock more and more and fueling his pleasure.

“Ah,” you moan, “Yoongi. So good.” Your brain was absolute mush. You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“So good at taking my cock,” he laughs breathlessly, “I can’t believe how well you’re doing.”

You surrender yourself completely to Yoongi at his words, his encouragement pushing you closer to the edge. “I’m close.”

“Good girl, cum for me. Cream on my cock.” Yoongi praises, kissing your lips tenderly as you feel yourself clench tightly around him. White hot electric shocks rush through your body, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He breaks the kiss with a bite to your bottom lip, “Take my cum. Take it- fuck fuck-” Yoongi’s cut off by his orgasm taking over, and you open just in time to see his jaw drop as he rides out both of your orgasms with increasingly slow thrusts until finally, he slips out, the feeling of his release dripping down your thighs.

He rests his forehead against yours, suddenly hyper aware of the water dripping down your bodies.

You lower your legs onto the floor, Yoongi holding you up while you struggle to regain your balance. The two of you giggle, sharing kisses for a moment as you both work off the pleasure.

You reach behind Yoongi, squeezing shampoo into your hands and massaging it through your scalp as Yoongi takes your soap across your body. It’s such a simple move, but even though you’ve already had sex he still is taking the time to take care of you. It’s endearing, and it fills you with hope for something more with Yoongi.

As you both finish the shower, you step out of the bath tub and reach for a towel.

“Oh, by the way, Yoongi?” You say as he runs a brush through your hair. You bite your lip to hold back a giggle as he stops, “Yes baby?”

“I still tasted coffee.”

Yoongi laughs, “God damn it.”

#midway through this i lost everything and had to start over lmao #that was a fun journey but bc i could actually sit and write i wanted to get something out for y'all #ty for reading!!#min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi x reader smut #yoongi x you smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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peaches-writes · 4 years ago

Text

meeting points

description: because overcoming heavy traffic is the new crossing oceans for people member: jisung / han genre: fluff, college au, not-so-long distance au, city life au, best friends to lovers au word count: 9.4k warning: explicit language, drinking, suggestive, food, traffic, heights, a clown note: i want to throw fists at han jisung but like with affection y’know

one - a new cafe

For almost 2 years now, you and Jisung have what Seungmin has once referred to as a semi-long distance friendship—only semi since you attend universities literally 20 minutes away from each other when there’s no traffic and friendship because, well, you’ve been best friends since high school. It’s not that you don’t have other friends who attend SNU like him or vice versa (but Yonsei University); rather, it’s that Jisung is the slowest replier in the world and you’re the second clingiest person in the world (just behind Hyunjin). Seeing each other in person as much as you can is an absolute must in order to keep Jisung from fully becoming one with his dorm, you sane from the academic pressure of tertiary education, and your overall friendship afloat. College students need to stick together somehow.

Unless it’s a bigger hangout with your mutual friends, you alternate locations depending on who has a heavier deadline to attend to afterward. When Jisung finds himself struggling to finish a song or needs to be at the campus radio station with the rest of 3racha later on, it’s you taking the bus to his university dorm; when it’s you slumped on term papers for your core subjects or on visual props your club needs, Jisung convinces Minho to let him carpool (since his night part-time job is on the way to your university).

But even then, it’s more often that you make the tedious travel. Like today.

On this particular day, it’s you seated on a bus and looking outside the window to pass the agonizingly slow time, sighing for the nth time at the evening rush hour. It’s only 6:20 PM on your phone and your bus is already on the connecting bridge but the endless sight of cars behind and ahead of you, against the darkness of the Han river and the bright city lights, doesn’t make you feel like you’ve crossed any distance. Jisung’s last text was a simple “stay safe” almost an hour ago when you got on the bus from the nearest stop outside your university.

The two of you are you supposed to try the new cafe inside his campus for dinner since your recent hangouts have only been inside his dorm (with Hyunjin too since they’re roommates), watching old movies and eating take-out until Jisung accidentally falls asleep from power working beforehand. It’s nearing the semester break and everyone’s been sort of busy at SNU, but lately, Jisung’s been actually making an effort to make time for you and insisting that you hang out at the expense of his sleep.

Backwards thinking but okay, you shrug one shoulder at the thought. You’ve talked about it once on call when his sudden initiative to meet started since you’re concerned about his well-being and that you have all the time in the world once break starts but Jisung unexpectedly fell asleep halfway and Hyunjin had to end the call. Two days later, Jisung texted you that he rented the movie you wanted to watch at the cinema for the weekend with an apology for falling asleep and assurance that he’s almost finished with his deadlines and that he’s asking you to hang out responsibly.

It’s not like you don’t like it, you are already on the way to SNU, after all. Besides, you’re still very much free from heavy academic and club activities since your professors scheduled their deadlines after the break and your club is not as active lately. Have fun now, suffer later as Seungmin and Changbin have told you when you told them your worries about Jisung’s sleep schedule.

After a while of trying to count the cars on the bridge as your lane moves a little faster now, you open your phone and message Jisung to pass the time. You don’t always expect that he replies but it’s always the most reassuring when it’s him you’re contacting, even when it’s just casual.

y/n: don’t u have radio tonight? [sent 6:32 PM]

You’ve heard 3racha’s campus radio show on the several times you hung out at SNU during the day. They air live on Friday nights, Saturday if most of the all-student crew are busy, but the meetings are rather frequent when nearing holidays so you’re careful of leaving on time even on a non-Friday weekday like this.

y/n: just crossed ynghwa

y/n: bus is driving steady now!!! aaaaak

jisung: almost typed ‘arent u supposed to be looking at d road’ then i rmmbr that u don’t have a car LOL [sent 6:56 PM]

y/n: so do u have a meeting later?

jisung: no

At their dorms, Hyunjin is out for the night to god knows where but Jisung is quite certain it’s not for studying since he was dressed to the nines. When he got a text from you, he slowly but surely forced himself to stand up from his work area to get dressed. Though he’s the one who insisted on hanging out, it doesn’t change the fact that leaving his work is hard when he’s in his ‘zone’ but he has to since the new cafe’s apparently a 3-minute walk from his dorm but he has to meet you at the bus stop first.

y/n: ur probs not even dressed yet

y/n: close that laptop nerd

Jisung couldn’t bring it in himself to reply because he was already preoccupied avoiding getting dissed by you again whenever he wears his favorite Supreme t-shirt.

You arrive at the bus stop at around 6:50 PM, just as Jisung arrives, panting heavily from running the remaining distance when he received an ‘almost there’ message from you. You offer him a bottle of water you forgot to take out from your backpack and he quickly swipes it from you, chugging down the contents as if his life depends on it. “Woah there, haven’t seen you in a long time. Drink slowly and breathe.” You rub his arm comfortingly as the two of you stand on the empty sidewalk. Behind you, your bus drives away. “You didn’t have to run, you know, I could’ve just met up with you wherever you are.”

He then stops drinking just to breathlessly say, “But it’s dark and there could be creeps out.”

You’re touched but still concerned. “Still. I have you on speed dial, remember?”

When Jisung’s fully recovered, the two of you walk to the cafe together, catching up on what’s happened in your own lives in the past week since you last met. There’s not much, actually, since Jisung really doesn’t go out often unless it’s for classes, the radio show, or some of his other friends insisted and you’re almost always with your dorm mates, Lia and Ryujin, or with Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin.

“Minho says they have good Americano.” Eventually you arrive and Jisung immediately points to the several posters on the window, showcasing the cafe’s specialty.

“And how many days have you been running only on Americano?” You point out in an almost scolding tone. You approach the counter now where there are barely any people in line since most customers are already seated.

“Not that long!” He holds up his hands in the air. “Just 2 weeks!”

“Jisung!”

He imitates you dramatically with,“Y/N!” to which you only roll your eyes to.

“Good evening, how may I take your order?” The barista asks.

Jisung opens his mouth to speak but you hold an arm in front of him and turn to the barista, “One pesto, one lasagna, the chicken wings for sharing, two glasses of water, one cheesecake, and one strawberry cake, please.”

“Y/N, this is a cafe, where their specialty is coffee.” Jisung teases dryly as the barista takes note of your order, a last attempt at getting himself another cup of Americano.

So without turning to him, you tell the barista, “Also, can you add an additional Americano—?”

“Finally—” “Two shots for me, not him.”

The barista only laughs at your banter. “Name please?”

“Y/N.”

While you’re conversing with the barista, Jisung shoots daggers to the side of your face, dramatically declaring, “I’m stealing your Americano.”

But you only drop your arm in front of him as the barista says, “That would be 12,000 won.”

“Oh, he’s paying.”

Either way, Jisung reluctantly pays with the sole motivation to get a sip from your iced Americano.

“Seriously, though, cut the Americano for a little while, maybe until finals.” You point out as you settle on a nearby table that has just been cleaned by staff. “Do you even know what a water dispenser looks like at this point?”

“I drink water.” He pouts, opting to sit down next to you to show that he really has all intents to steal your Americano. “It just doesn’t give me ideas for my projects.”

“You have one practical project due before the break. What about the other times you do work?”

“I do them quickly.”

You sigh in defeat. “Ah, seriously?”

When the barista calls for your name at the counter, Jisung holds you down by the shoulder and makes a run for the counter, taking a long sip of your Americano until you caught up to him.

“Success!” He exclaims, proud of himself, as he takes one of the two trays.

“Satisfied with your Americano?” You take the other tray in defeat, walking back to your table with him.

“Hm, I don’t knoooow.” He teases in sing-song, sitting next to you again instead of across from you as he would usually do. “You might finish everything before even finishing your pasta.”

“I’m not too much in a coffee mood, actually.” You scrunch up your nose. The two of you then proceed on taking your respective orders off the tray, setting the trays aside.

“But after the break, you will be.” He states matter-of-factly. “How many projects do you have due after the break?”

“I can only remember six because I really don’t want to think about them right now.” You steal a small slice of cheesecake from him as an unwritten exchange for his unlimited share of your iced Americano. “As Seungmin and Changbin once said, ‘have fun now, suffer later.’“

“Oh, I’m fun?”

You turn to your side to look at him, finding him looking back at you with a triumphant smile. “You’re not letting me live this down, won’t you?”

“No, it’s getting added to my list of Y/N compliments!”

You roll your eyes, taking another slice of cheesecake. He reiterates with his now third sip of Americano—you’re not even sure anymore because you’re pretty sure he’s already drank half of it.

“I said drink your water, jeez.” You slide him his glass of water, barely a quarter empty. You take the Americano from him, taking your own long sip of the drink.

“I will, I will! Just one last si—” “Han Jisung, let me drink my damn coffee!” “Okay, fine, let’s exchange!”

You leave the cafe when it’s nearing 9 PM. Somehow, when you’re with Jisung and food, you barely check the time, much less your phone, since your table gets messy from stealing each other’s dessert plates and, for tonight, Jisung drinking most of your Americano. You and Jisung also had a lot to say about your respective classes in a full-on rant session since there’s only 2 weeks left until everyone is on semester break.

“There’s not much traffic at this time, isn’t there?” Jisung asks you as he walks you back to the bus stop. He holds a paperbag containing your take-out cakes for your roommates. “You might fall asleep and miss your stop again.”

“Says the guy who sleeps on people during calls.” You tease with an elbow to his side. He tries to slap you back on your arm but you walk ahead enough to be out of his reach, sticking your tongue out at him. “There isn’t much traffic now, though, it’s only Thursday.”

“Y/N.” He laughs while calling your name, covering his mouth. “It’s Friday.”

Your eyes, of course, widen in surprise. “It is?” He only nods at this, finding amusement in the way your expression quickly turns into that of horror. “Ah, shit, I told my roommates we hang out tomorrow!”

“Why, do you have to do the dishes or something?”

But checking your phone, you only find a ‘wya’ message from Ryujin. Almost as quickly as you started panicking, you calm down again. “Oh, it’s fine.” You conclude, shoving your phone back in your coat pocket. “It’s just that they sometimes think I died at the library or something and end up making a big scene about it. Last time, our batch FB group got spammed.”

“Wow, then you judge me for always being cooped up in the dorms?”

“That’s different—I actually go out and walk. I’m surprised you can even run to the bus stop a while ago.”

Jisung threatens to swing your take-out bag at you. You only take it lightheartedly by holding your hands up in front of him, laughing.

But all jokes and banter aside, you give him a hug before boarding the bus. “Text me when you get home.” He recites his constant line when it’s you leaving. “Or when you miss your bus.”

“Shut up.” You mumble on his shoulder, punching his back hard before pulling away. “I hope you trip on your way back.”

“‘Night, Y/N.” “See you when I see you, nerd.”

two - a park

After a month of living off of ramen and iced Americano, barely seeing the sun, and hearing the same chords and melodies on repeat, Jisung passes the song he’s been working a week later. Besides this, he only has three papers left to tweak before he can fully enjoy the semester break without any sort of guilt.

To celebrate, it’s you inviting him this time to ride bicycles so he can move around but also relax. You picked the park at Ichon that’s on your side of the Han river but still far away from university so you don’t think of schoolwork the entire time.

On this particular hangout, you took the same bus but at different times. He boarded the bus first before you, arriving some 30 minutes after you’ve arrived at your nearest stop. Since it’s a Saturday morning, the traffic’s not too heavy.

“You look nice.” Jisung nudges you with one shoulder as you take a seat on the spot he saved you. The bus is not full since the rush hour had just gone.

“It’s just a t-shirt and shorts.” You reply flatly, hiding the fact that you actually thought a lot about your outfit last night. You even wore your good sneakers and denim jacket today.

“Yes, but it’s your other other favorite graphic shirt.” He points out. “The one for when we’re outdoors.”

Oh, so he noticed.

“Yes because someone has to look cute.” But you actually think Jisung looks nice even when he wears the same Supreme shirt like today—you’re just too in deep with the teasing to compliment him.

“I compliment the rainbow shirt you always wear when we sightsee but you diss my Supreme shirt.” He rolls his eyes. “Ah, people these days.”

“Because you’re always in and out of university in that.” To emphasis, you tease him further by scooting away. “Do you even wash that?”

“Of course I do.” He confidently and lightheartedly answers, putting an arm on your shoulder and pulling you back. “While it’s in the laundry, I wear my other Supreme shirt, or my other other Supreme shirt—“

“Yikes.” You tsk at him, crossing your arms. “This is what staying inside all day does to you.”

“That’s why you’re here, my Y/N, to take me out.”

“I was reduced to the role of babysitter.”

“I was going for hangout or date but you called yourself babysitter.”

Arriving at Ichon park, you make a quick snack stop at the nearest convenience store first. Since it’s your turn to pay, Jisung makes sure to buy all of his favorites (sans an iced Americano this time as your only condition to pay for him). You fill an entire basket with snacks and drinks both for when you ride a bicycle and for when you settle down for a picnic later at lunch.

“By the way, did you bring the mat?” You ask Jisung as you walk to the renting station, remembering that he and Hyunjin have the picnic mat you and your bigger circle of friends use for outings like this.

“Of course I did, what do you take me for?” He unzips his backpack to show you the blue gingham pattern Seungmin picked out two years ago. Aesthetic, he said. “I’m not the one who mistakes dates.”

“And I’m not the one who had to ask what the picnic mat looks like the other night despite having it for 4 months now.” After a few more steps, you arrive at the renting station. “I was just making sure.”

You then rent two bicycles, both with baskets for your belongings.

“Y/N, wear a hat.” Jisung reminds you while putting in his.

You frown. You did bring a cap but you also put a lot of effort on your hair today. “It’s going to ruin my hair.”

“The sun’s going to burn your hair if you don’t.” He takes your cap from your hands and gently places it on top of your hair before you can even reiterate, a small smile gracing his face at your speechless expression. “There.”

The fuck is he on? Still, your heart beats erratically at his sporadic gestures. Being Jisung’s best friend is a bit of a rollercoaster.

Especially lately.

Before you know it, Jisung’s already on his bicycle, urging you to do the same. Half-dazed, the two of you leisurely circle the entire stretch of the park, pointing at random landmarks across the river and eating your snacks.

Since this hangout’s also meant as a celebratory one, you let Jisung let loose and yell, “I’m done with my projects!” while extending his hands out as he cycles. You think to yourself that you have the rest of the year having a heart attack over that.

The park is full of families, friends, and couples on a Sunday that you almost couldn’t find a spot to lay your picnic mat on when the two of you got too tired of cycling around. You couldn’t consider sitting on a park bench since Jisung was getting sleepy as well, a result of not having a proper sleep schedule and a half in the past weeks.

So, after almost twenty minutes, you managed to secure a place from a couple who was just leaving for the nearby Namsan tower.

“Thank you so much again!” You thank the couple who even helps you set up the picnic mat while you let Jisung temporarily rest on the bare grass with his backpack as a pillow, sleep quickly catching onto him.

“No problem.” The woman says with a smile.

“Have fun on your own date.” The man adds, placing an arm on his date’s shoulders.

“Oh we’re not—“ But before you could even finish, the couple’s already walked away. You sigh, squatting down to Jisung’s eye level this time. “Jisung wake up, mat’s ready.”

He scrunches his nose with a groan, about to roll over to the opposite direction until you stopped him and rolled him towards the mat. His head lands soundlessly on the ground, forcing him to open his eyes.

“Damn, I thought I was going to land on your lap.” He rubs the area on his head that hit the grass.

You sit down next to him, taking out the sandwiches you bought from the convenience store. “Who do you think rolled you over, dumbass? For a genius, your sense of direction is quite questionable.”

“But can I?” He looks up at you now, poking your bare thigh. “Do you need like a blanket or something?”

You remind yourself that this is the same guy who threatened to smack you with a box of cake last week and dropkicked you once (but that’s another story). “Fine, go ahead.”

As if he woke up just a little with wide eyes and a genuinely happy expression on his face, Jisung scoots over while laying down (which makes you stifle a giggle because he looks like a worm doing it) until his head lays on your lap. You push a bottle of water and two bags of sandwiches next to his shoulders. “You have to eat later, though, okay?”

Looking down at him, you surprise yourself by finding him with his eyes still open. He busies himself with lazily getting his phone and earphones from his bag, putting on an earbud and offering you the other. “I saved my project for you to listen to.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to sleep?” Nevertheless, you take the earbud just as the music starts to play.

“Yeah, but I’m suddenly hyper-aware and awake.” He shrugs, taking the sandwich on his side. “You know, like when kids get put to bed from sleeping somewhere else.”

“So you do think you’re a kid?”

“Shush, this is the good part in the song.”

You chuckle, opting to not reply vocally to enjoy the song you’ve been hearing fragments off for the past month. The two of you then eat and listen in silence, that is until he asks you for comments at the end and the two of you discuss it for a while then it’s back to comfortable silence again but with different music as you scroll through your phone and Jisung tries to nap again.

Jisung falls asleep once he has a good look at you without your phone in the way.

At the end of the day, around 4 PM so you don’t get stuck in rush hour traffic, you take the same bus again but this time, it’s you leaving first.

The only problem is that despite a year and a half of frequenting your side of the Han river, Jisung still can’t seem to memorize bus stops well, forcing you to stay awake the entire ride.

“Y/N—“ “No, Jisung, we’re still three stops away.”

You don’t even have to look up from your phone to know that Jisung’s still looking out of the window as he’s had for the past 20 minutes, trying to gues your stop. At hearing your answer, he decides to stop, turning his head to the other direction as you text your groupchat.

“What’s up?” He rests his head on your shoulder casually to get a better view of the messages you’re skimming through, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try shrugging him off his shoulder but he shows no initiative to move. “Everyone’s starting to talk about the annual Halloween party. You’d know if you check the chat often.”

Away from your view, Jisung frowns. “I get ideas of what you’re talking about from how Hyunjin reacts to them, especially to the memes, thank you very much.”

“Well, at least you’re a bit better than Changbin when it comes to being online.” You say, more to yourself than to Jisung. “Anyway, you, Hyunjin, and Chan are in charge of the guest list. Chan just suggested that you squeeze it in your next radio show this week since the party’s the next night—maximum of 50 people!”

“Oh, yeah, we can do that.” He nods. “Any news on the venue?”

At this, you release a sigh of frustration. “Seungmin and Changbin booked a rooftop in Itaewon of all places.”

“Isn’t that cool? Why are you sighing?”

“Speak for yourself, Jisung. Remember last year?” You close your phone now but Jisung’s head still remains on your shoulder. “I don’t want to deal with a lot of drunk college kids again—especially not on a rooftop and not when I really deserve a drink.”

“Nah, I’m sure it won’t be as bad as last year.” He tries to say dismissively but the two of you know exactly know crazy it was last year, especially for Jisung.

“Which is why I told Minho that we buy the alcohol together on Wednesday—so no one does anything too stupid.” You shrug Jisung completely off of your shoulder now since you’re nearing your stop and he complies, caught off-guard with the way you said you and Minho are doing something together. “Okay, Sung, this is my stop.”

You stand up and Jisung almost does the same in his absentminded state. “So are you carpooling with Minho on Saturday?”

“Yeah, I need to do something for my club before going to the party but we’re sending the drinks early in case we’re late.” You say quickly. “Okay, I gotta go. See you this break?”

“Hm, see you.”

When the bus moves again, there is a sinking feeling in Jisung’s stomach until the view of you walking back to your university disappears.

three - a supermarket

You invited Lia to help you and Minho to buy liquor at the nearby supermarket after Minho’s classes, only to find out that Minho brought 3racha along.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your box-carrying skills but I don’t trust your liquor-handling skills.” Minho explains when he sees your surprised expression at seeing Chan wave at you and Lia from the front passenger seat. “That goes literally and figuratively.”

“I mean, I feel the same which is why Lia’s here but, really? You trust Jisung and Changbin with liquor?”

“Hyunjin’s out with someone again and Jeongin might get carded again.” Changbin shrugs from the open passenger seat window.

“Seungmin? Jeongin? Felix?”

“Do you think we’d actually let them touch alcohol until Saturday?” “Right.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine. We’re buying for around 50 people right?” Lia asks Minho as the two of you squeeze in the back seat of his car.

“Yeah, so that’s about 6 boxes since the venue’s also providing some drinks.”

“What about snacks?” “Covered by the venue too.”

“How many bottles can fit in 1 box?” You mumble to yourself but Jisung, sitting very closely next to you, hears.

“Around 10 to 15, probably.” He says, startling you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be finishing papers?”

“I already finished them waaaay back.” He smirks at you coolly. “While being a ‘cave man’ at the dorms like you said. You’re supposed to be proud I’m voluntarily going out today.”

He’s too prideful to admit that he finished his remaining work in the 3-day window you didn’t see each other so he can tag along today.

At the supermarket, you split up in teams, each with two baskets to fill. Changbin and Lia head off to the liquor store outside the main supermarket while Minho and Chan go to the liquor aisle inside the supermarket. You and Jisung, on the other hand, stick together, browsing the other aisles instead after being in the same liquor aisle but at different sections with Minho and Chan. No reason, you both just felt like it.

“Do you think we have enough budget to sneak in a bag of candies?” You think out loud, holding a bag of mint candies from the shelf. “I’m not sure if I want this one but Minho likes it.”

“Minho probably wouldn’t notice—maybe he’ll even think he put that in himself.” Jisung says, standing really close to you and examining the candies himself. Your two baskets of alcohol bottles are half-forgotten to the side. “Why do you even want to buy candies for him? If you want it, though I can buy it for you.”

You give him a skeptical look, only then noticing how easily your shoulders brush against each other. “Why are you standing really close?” You voice your observation out loud, making him turn his head to you with a pout. “I mean sure go ahead but you’re literally blocking the light.”

“I can’t?” To emphasis, he leans some of his body weight to you, just enough to make you hold onto him by his arm at the feeling that you’ll tip over if you don’t. Succeeding, he smirk triumphantly and takes your hand off of his arm so that he can put in on your shoulder. “Y/N, I missed youuu.”

“We saw each other 3 days ago.” You huff, more to yourself than to him because he really is making you nervous. “You’re so clingy today, that’s my job!”

“Sus, I can’t miss you after 3 days now? When it’s already my break and you’re still attending some classes?” He pouts, holding his arms open. “Come here.”

“What? Why?” At this point, you’re just getting a serious whiplash from his sudden clinginess. That’s my job, how dare he?

When you don’t budge, eyes still narrowed at him, he moves forward himself, trapping you in a hug. “I want to hug you, idiot.”

“What if I don’t want to?” “I’m still hugging you.”

You simply give in this time, the two of you just standing there until Chan passed by to get Minho candies.

“Dudes, come on, we’re buying alcohol.” He reminds with an amused smile, snatching the bag of mint candies from your grasp. “Get moving, lovebirds.”

“We’re n—“ “We’ll be right there.”

You pretend on swinging a bag of gummy bears at him. When he asks you why, you only run back to the liquor aisle to meet Chan and Minho.

More bickering, some alcoholic jokes, and the woman at the check-out counter asking for your I.D.s later, the 6 of you rest and eat ice cream at a parlour near the check-out before leaving, your boxes of alcohol carefully placed together at the end of your table.

“So how many people are actually going?” Lia asks Chan over her chocolate ice cream.

“Around thirty-people already responded to the invite.” Chan answers. You wince every time he bites his ice cream. Every person to themselves but biting ice cream is just a no for you. “When the Friday show airs, hopefully more people go.”

“We had 100 people last year, right?”

“That’s because these geniuses thought they can handle a hundred drunks at a house party.” You recall the chaotically eventful party last year. “We’re cutting in half since we’re at a rooftop party and I don’t want to see people jumping off the 4th floor.”

“Also since not a lot of people dress up.” Jisung frowns. The party has always been a costume party when it started 3 years ago but somehow, a lot of the guests you’re not particularly close with always show up in the bare minimum.

“Ooh, what are you guys dressing up as this year?” Minho asks, suddenly excited at the topic of costumes.

“Might just go as a vampire again this year since I won’t have much time preparing this Saturday.” You frown.

“Hey, I wanted to go as a vampire!” Chan complains.

“You already went as a vampire last year! Can we not match again?”

“What about you Minho?” Lia asks, disinterested in your bicker with Chan.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He shrugs. “Ask Jisung.”

Lia turns to Jisung who enthusiastically answers, “It’s a surprise!”

“It’s probably the horse head again.” You roll your eyes, knowing his enthusiasm very well. “But we’re just going to pretend that it’s a surprise on Saturday.”

“You better do.” Jisung pouts.

“Have you even washed that horse mask since last year?” Minho narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

You yourself didn’t even expect that he’d keep it for this year especially after what happened.

Yikes.

“Minho, you know I do! I take it out sometimes to scare Hyunjin’s dates!”

You head to the events place in Itaewon after. From the photos in your groupchat, it’s an average-sized building in relation to the others in this particular district, holding a convenience store on the first floor, a BBQ place on the 2nd floor, and miscellaneous offices on the 3rd—one of which rents the rooftop for events.

“So why did we have to buy drinks at the supermarket again?” Changbin asks, still trying to catch his breath from carrying so many boxes of alcohol.

“Because supermarket alcohol is slightly better than convenience store ones.” You answer matter-of-factly. “It’s semester break and Halloween. Indulge a little, Binnie.”

“Y/N has plans to get wasted.” Jisung spoils to everyone, making you call out his name from the front seat. You asked to exchanged seats with Chan after loading the boxes at the back of the car so you can have a run through of the food and drinks. Throughout the whole ride, he’s been hell-bent on exposing you.

“Then it’s counterproductive to buy those hard drinks.”

“Who says I’m sharing them?” You chuckle. You didn’t expect that anyone but Jisung would notice that you bought smaller drinks for yourself.

Then the car is quiet for a while sans the music playing from Jisung’s phone which you immediately recognized as one of the playlists 3racha played on a broadcast before.

When you get stuck in temporary traffic on the last intersection before the venue, you then turn to Minho. “Minho, aren’t you afraid of heights? Is 4 floors okay?”

Glancing at Minho for a response, he nods while still looking at the road. “The place’s really nice in person. I went with Seungmin yesterday.”

“If you say it’s nice then I’d probably feel guilty of letting people trash the place this weekend.” Because it’s true, if Lee Minho calls something nice or pretty, it’s really really nice or pretty.

“It’s really spacious so you don’t have to stare at the ground below all the time, lots of picnic chairs and tables with the big-ass umbrellas, fairy lights, and a sound system when people want to karaoke or need mics.”

“Ah, yes, very much of Seungmin’s aesthetic.”

“I’d like to be acknowledged too, thank you.” Changbin says from your rear view mirror view.

“Thank you Changbin.” You tease him with a laugh. “What did you like about the place?”

And before Changbin could even answer seriously, the rest of the car answers in chorus, “There are lots of glitter and foil decorations.” before breaking into laughter.

“There are beach props too! There’s fake grass and everything so it looks cheerful!” Changbin defends but to no avail because you only end up laughing. “Seungmin didn’t like it but I insisted that we borrow it for the party.”

You arrive at the building afterward, handing the alcohol to the staff on their 3rd floor office and finalizing the food you’re going to have on the party.

“We’ll see you on Saturday night, then?” The owner of the building confirms once you’ve covered all the inquiries you have.

Chan nods. “Me and the guy who booked the place, Seungmin, will be here first on Saturday night around 6 PM.”

“What are you doing at 6 PM that you have to be late on Saturday?” Jisung whispers next to you, diverting your attention from looking at the view next to you to him as he looks at you expectantly.

“Cramming a poster while waiting for a club meeting.” You frown. “Not everyone had their school day on Friday.”

“Can’t you skip?”

“Hm? Why?” You nudge his shoulder, as if trying to take out the pouty expression he wears on his face. “I told you I’m carpooling with Minho on that day so it’s fine.”

“But stiiill. I won’t save your alcohol.”

“No need, I already asked Seungmin to do it...and even asked Felix to watch you before I get here.”

“What did you bribe those two with?”

“Tickets to Lotte world.”

Jisung narrows his eyes at you but he’s thoroughly impressed. “You’re too smart.”

“I have to outsmart you somehow when it comes to doing something stupid.” You shrug with a chuckle. “Plus, traffic’s really heavy on Saturday since everyone’s going home that day.”

“You really should just ditch club.” He shrugs. “It’s the last day anyway.”

“I can’t, dumbass, that’s part of my grade. Really, it’s fine, at least I’m with Minho on that day so we can be late together.”

Before Jisung could argue further, however, Lia approaches the two of you. “Ready to go, guys?”

four - a rooftop party

Sometimes, you hate it when Jisung is right. Turns out, the meeting you had for your club was relatively pointless and could’ve just been discussed over e-mail or your club groupchat. Still, it ended at around 9:15 PM because most of your club mates arrived later than the 7:35 PM you agreed on and the stubborn president didn’t want to start the meeting until everyone was there.

Still, you passed your posters (which you definitely crammed at the school library prior) and made a lot of suggestions during the meeting which felt rewarding enough to make up for the frustrations you can’t vocally tell your seniors over causing a lot of inconveniences to your meeting. Just think that’s going to be you in a few years, Y/N, so try to understand, you think to yourself as you return to an empty dorm. Ryujin already informed you over text that she and Lia already left with Yeji to pick up Chaeryeong from her university.

“Now, for costume.” You mumble under your breath, heading straight to your room.

After much thought on which black clothes to wear, you got dressed quickly to attend to your make-up faster. Since you’re a vampire again like last year, you have to put in more effort on your hair and make-up—you’re definitely not winning best costume but at least you look decent (and definitely not wearing the same clothes from last year) for the endless pictures Hyunjin’s going to take of everyone later.

When you’re already halfway to your make-up, Minho decides on spamming you, your phone lighting up and displaying 9:58 PM. Shit.

minho: here!!!

minho: traffic still heavy

minho: chan asked for reinforcements btw

minho: so were stopping at d mart

minho: pls don’t tell me ur putting make-up blood on ur face [sent 10:03 PM]

You groan, typing a quick “i am” reply to his last message before quickly finishing your make-up and heading out.

y/n: ok otw [sent 10:06 PM]

You quickly spot Minho’s car right outside of your dorm, his tinted windows rolling down as you approach. Opening the car, your eyes widen in brief surprise before crinkling into a laugh as you get in and close the door. “W-what the...what the fuck, Minho?”

“Don’t.” He holds a threatening finger up in front of your face, putting his hand back on the steering wheel as you drive away from your dorm. But even he stifles from his own laughter. “The kids asked that we buy 10 more bottles of the whiskey Chan picked out since Hyunjin made cocktails with it and a lot of people want more.”

“W—wh...sorry, it’s just that I can’t concentrate when you’re looking like this.” You end up laughing for the rest of your first 2 minutes inside the car and almost forgetting what you were going to ask.

This year, Minho is a Korean traditional woman for Halloween.

“So,” You start when you’ve recovered, holding a hand to your chest to steady your breathing. “So, are you going out to the mart or do I have to sacrifice myself?”

“You can air drop the pic of the whiskey brand on your phone.” He answers.

You sigh, putting on a jacket you find on the back seat to cover your exposed torso for when you go out to the supermarket.

At the supermarket, people only gave you brief stares because of the fake blood dripping from your chin to your collarbones before their attentions turned to another person (probably from another Halloween party) dressed as a literal YouTube video picking up snacks. Though you’re relieved, you made your exit quick after your purchase, pushing the cart as fast as you can to the nearby parking spot Minho’s car occupied, because your phone suddenly started ringing from consecutive messages from Jisung, of all people.

jisung: y/n where r uuuu

jisung: party started at 6! 6!

jisung: seungmin playing truth or drink

jisung: changbin singing at karaoke

jisung: also i drank ur mules

jisung: n ur peach sojus

jisung: but i shared w felix! [sent 10:25 PM]

You sigh, particularly at reading the last message after successfully loading your box of whiskey at the back of the car. You were too hopeful trusting even Seungmin and Felix.

y/n: otw w minho [sent 10:25 PM]

“Jisung’s really drunk again.” You inform Minho once you’re on the road again. “I can’t even trust Seungmin or Felix now.”

“Well, you’ll have to keep texting him because the traffic going to Itaewon doesn’t seem to be moving.” Minho sighs. “You know he’ll sleep dehydrated if he’s that bored by himself to text you.”

You groan. “No shortcuts?”

“Even the shortcuts are flooded. I swear, everyone’s travelling home or partying tonight.”

You lean back on your seat, taking a few deep breaths. If there’s anyone that shouldn’t be left alone at a party, it’s one Han Jisung.

At the party, Jisung sits at the bar, accompanying Hyunjin as he re-discovers his drunken talent of mixing cocktails. He scrolls through his phone absentmindedly with the occasional sips of the peach soju he’s been struggling to finish for 20 minutes now, having no motivation to join Changbin and Felix at the karaoke or Chan, Jeongin, and Seungmin playing more drinking games with most of the guests.

“Jisung, you’re sulking.” Hyunjin points out as he gives another guest his new cocktail recipe.

“No, I’m not.” Jisung frowns and hiccups through his big horse mask even when the older boy can’t actually see.

“You’ve been in there for the past 20 minutes.” Hyunjin knocks on Jisung’s horse mask for emphasis. He’s no better, actually, dressing up as a big giraffe head since Felix decided to be the Joker this year. “Literally the last time I saw your face, you were texting Y/N.”

“Y/NNNN! Why aren’t Y/N and Minho here yet? I want to see Y/NNNNN!”

“Well, it’s traffic out.” At the very end of the bar, Hyunjin can see the heavy traffic below. “Everyone’s going home or eating out tonight.”

“But I want Y/NNN!” Jisung is fumbling around now, narrowly missing his bottle of peach soju since the horse mask doesn’t have a good view from the weird eyes. “Where is Y/N?”

Though his friend is incredibly drunk now, the tipsy Hyunjin still tries to keep a decent conversation so Jisung doesn’t accidentally fall asleep on his mask again. “You saw each other a lot the past weeks, though? Unlike when it’s a regular school week and you barely reply to them on chat.”

“But that’s because I’m not as busy then as I was this semester.” Jisung manages to slur after a while before momentarily taking his horse mask off just enough for him to take a long sip of his peach soju with a metal straw he found somewhere in his backpack a while ago. “I miss Y/N when I’m busy.”

“What about when you’re not busy?” “I also miss them when I’m busy.”

Hyunjin sighs. “Just say you have a crush on them and go.”

And he’s not sure if Jisung actually heard him but the boy replies with a muffled sigh. “Having a crush from people in different universities is hard!”

You open your phone to check the time, the twelfth time you’ve done so in the past hour since you’ve been stuck in the now moving traffic. Eleven-twenty PM on the dot, the party could either be still in full swing with everyone drunk off their asses or dying down with everyone drunk off their asses—either way, most of the liquor are probably gone now (even the one you asked Seungmin to guard for you) and the reinforcement’s probably not a good idea already. Next to you, Minho sighs, “Not that it’s annoying but you keep checking your phone and frowning every time you do. It’s scary, especially since you look more like a depressed vampire than a slutty one.”

“Thanks, Minho.” You roll your yes, closing your phone and putting it down on your lap.

“You’re really that excited much to see your boyfriend?”

You glare daggers through his side profile. “He’s not my boyfriend and I’m more worried than excited because he’s really bad at drinking. Remember last year—”

“It wasn’t that b—”

“Minho, he was crying because he thought his mask was stuck on his head.”

“But—” “He also tried drinking soju while crying and wearing his mask.”

Knowing he’s on the losing side of the argument, Minho waves his hand dismissively, eyes still on the road. The traffic’s moving steady now. “Anyway, there’s 50 people there someone has to be sober-ish somehow.”

“Uh huh, sure, someone is.” You reply dryly. Though this party has a larger attendance list than your friend group’s usual hangouts since it’s your annual Halloween party, you can’t help but remain distrustful. Your friends aka the worst drunks ever are hosting, for God’s sake.

“Why don’t you text someone so you’d feel less nervous?” Minho suggests after a while.

And this time, you actually listen to him and open your phone again, opting to text Chan.

y/n: y’all still alive?

y/n: we’re about to turn right to the venue [sent 11:28 PM]

chan: shit’s lit!!!!!!

“Yup, even Chan’s drunk.” You conclude, closing your phone as Minho pulls up to the building. Minho sighs for probably the nth time tonight, exiting the car when you do. “Come on, ahjumma, we’re checking if our friends are still alive.”

Arriving at the party by the service elevator the staff kindly showed you, you almost kicked the box of whiskey bottles you placed on the ground in surprise once the doors opened and Chan greeted you dressed as a clown. “Finally, you’ve arrived!” He exclaims through his semi-faded white make-up and red nose, completely ignoring the way you just had the shock of your life. “Here, let me help you with the whiskey.”

You recover quickly, helping Minho and Chan lift the box to the nearby bar where Hyunjin is still busy mixing drinks. “Chan, why are you dressed as a clown?”

“Twitter poll.” He answers nonchalantly. “You should see Jeongin, he’s a life-size bread.”

Carefully setting the box on the ground for Hyunjin (who is more than grateful that the whiskey finally arrived), your expression returns to that of concern. “So, where’s Jisung?”

“Oh, he said he was going to take pictures by the railings with the good view.” Hyunjin shrugs. Panic sets on your face. “Don’t worry! There’s like a lot of people there right now! And I gave him water a while ago!”

You swip a bottle of peach soju and a bottle of water you saw hidden expertly under the counter from your view on the ground, sighing. “I swear to God, you guys are the worst hosts ever.”

And so you set out to find Jisung amidst the most random crowd of costumes ever. You spot Changbin dressed as Kim Shin and a Joker Felix still competing for higher scores on the karaoke and passed by baguette Jeongin and sunflower Seungmin who are now hosting a very drunken Whisper Challenge with your seniors, Younghyun who wears a big report card on his neck, Jae who’s dressed in Chicken Little’s clothes, Snow White Sana, and a pirate Jeongyeon.

If it’s any consolation, at least people dressed up better this year compared to last year.

“Ryujin, have you seen Jisung?” You near the viewing area on the other side of the rooftop where the light gets progressively fewer.

“He’s over there.” Your roommate points to an empty area with only a few tables and outdoor lights.

“Where?”

“Oh, he’s laying down somewhere. He’s still wearing the horse mask if that helps.”

“Thank you!” You part ways as you open your phone, turning on the flashlight to find Jisung.

From your area of the rooftop, the EDM music Chan mixed for this party already sounds faint and the traffic below sounds louder. You point your flashlight on the ground but also look ahead for any shadow of a horse mask.

“Han Jisung.” You call for him in a loud whisper, in case he fell asleep since he’s sound-sensitive when drunk. “Yah, I swear to God, we’re not hosting another party again if you’re dead somewhere.”

You repeat this a few times, changing baseless threats in hopes that it alerts him, until you find him raising a hand up in the air. “Here.” He responds tiredly to you, his voice not muffled by a mask this time as he’s long set it down next to him. He spots you immediately, illuminated by the garden lights. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks?” You approach carefully, pointing your flashlight away from his face and kneeling beside him. “Why are you laying down on the ground?”

You contemplate on laying down next to him but then you remember that you left your jacket in Minho’s car at the thought that the denim doesn’t go with your all-black ensemble. The bare floor’s already cold on your bare legs, how much more on your exposed back? “Anyway, drink this water later.”

But Jisung seems to ignore you, pushing you gently away by your arm. “I’m looking at the stars, Y/N, move over.” He groans. “Turn the light off too.”

You scoff. “You can’t see the stars—” But as you look up at the purple night sky, you see countless of twinkling stars. Caught off guard, you turn your light off. “—here. Oh.”

“Do you want to lay down?” When you turn to look back down at Jisung, he’s already sitting up slowly. Moving away a little so that you’re not in his way, he then takes his jacket off and places it on the ground. “You can use my jacket. It’s fine.”

You hand him your water bottle and place your peach soju next to his horse mask. “Sure...” Reluctantly, you lay down on Jisung’s jacket.

Jisung chugs down half of the water before laying down again, next to you this time.

“Aren’t you cold?” You ask, sparing a glance in his direction as you do so. Jisung only shakes his head.

“I thought you’d never come.” He pouts, still looking at the stars. He’s slowly sobering up now, making it harder to look at you in the eye.

“Traffic.” You heave a long sigh. “Hyunjin also made Minho and I buy extra drinks.”

It’s silent for a moment, you glance at Jisung for the second time to check if he’s fallen asleep again but you see a very concentrated expression on his face as he looks at the stars. “Are you still drunk?” You shake his arm, immediately getting his attention.

“Do you like Minho?” He suddenly blurts out, catching you off-guard. What makes matters worse is that he didn’t even spare you a glance while.

“What?!” You exclaim. At this point, you just regret not drinking your peach soju before joining him.

“Do you like him? Like like-like as in...hold on, the word like’s getting too redundant here...” In the darkness, Jisung turns beet red the more he looks away from you, not even realizing that you’re equally flushed from trying to hold in your laughter.

Where is this going? You can only think to yourself as he was rambling.

“Jisung, I only like Minho when he offers carpool and free drinks when we hang out.” You sit up this time, extending your hand out past him to your soju bottle. You’re definitely drinking to this unusual conversation. “Why did you suddenly think I like him?"

You don’t remember doing anything with Minho that would make Jisung think this way.

Leaning even more towards Jisung’s direction, you see a faint glimpse of his embarrassed expression—his hand covering his eyes as he curses under his breath. You drink a little bit more of your peach soju before nudging him with the bottom of the bottle. “What made you say that?”

“No.” He replies as calmly as he can, hand still covering his face. At that moment, he wishes he could put the horse mask back on quickly so he can run away while hiding his face.

You try prying his hand away but to no avail. He looks at you on his own accord a moment later but even then he doesn’t hold eye contact for long.

“It’s silly, just the soju.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Can you lay down again so I don’t have you see your face? Not that the make-up is bad, it’s just really embarrassing when you’re looking down on me like this.”

You chuckle, amused, but comply eventually when you’ve had enough of your soju. Instead of looking up at the stars, however, you turn your body to the side so you’re facing Jisung this time.

“Yah—”

“You said lay down again, I’m laying down.” You tease in between laughs. “Are you seriously not looking at me in the eye?”

“No!” He whispers loudly in a dramatic fashion, taking his horse mask and balancing it on his face to hide from you.

You shrug, flicking his horse mask away easily. “Why are you so embarrassed? Best friends talk about this all the time, it’s normal.” You shrug as you say this next, trying to act nonchalant about it as possible. Internally, you’re still processing where this conversation could go. “I’m just wondering how you came to that conclusion? It sounds weird and gross: Minho and I, I mean.”

Jisung only looks at you quietly for the next 2 minutes, clearly contemplating. “It’s just...” He starts and you hold your breath, realizing that your faces are really close when he turns his head to your side. “Seriously, it’s silly!”

You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can seem. “I want to know, it’s n—”

“Ilikeyou.”

“Hm?” You feel lightheaded, and you definitely feel like you need to pee. Soju works fast that way.

“I like you...” He says, slower and trailing off this time. He thinks you didn’t notice but you caught the way he glanced briefly down at your lips before going back up to your eyes. “Like really really like you; but we’re always running on different schedules since we entered college and we’ve only ever hung out when my deadlines aren’t heavy enough to make you feel guilty to come over until recently.”

“...Is that why you’ve been asking to hang out more this semester?” Jisung nods at the simple question. “You wanted to see me that much?”

“Well, don’t get too cocky now.” He chuckles nervously. Suddenly, he’s overthinking everything, trying to pick apart any hint from the tone of your voice. “Because this would be really really awkward and embarrassing if you keep acting like that then turn me down later.”

Your heart skips a few beat, you’re sure it’s Jisung now and not the soju kicking in. “Who said...who said anything about me turning you down?”

Jisung’s thoughts malfunction at this. Suddenly, he’s taking too slow to process anything again. You roll your eyes at this. “Do I have to say it?”

“...yes?”

You scrunch up your face in distaste but Jisung doesn’t laugh, making you sigh. “Fuck it, fine.” You take a deep breath, slowly following your words with, “I like you too, Jisung.”

You look at him expectantly and he returns your gaze with one of disbelief. “R-really?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?” You flick his forehead.

“Can I—”

He leans forward but you stop him with a hand in between the two of you. “You smell like alcohol.” You whine, pushing him away slightly.

“But we’re in the dark, under the stars, sorta drunk at a Halloween party; naturally, the next thing that follows is—”

“Ew, Jisung, gross!” You push him away completely but he only resists, managing to hug you with one arm.

“You can say that all you want but you already said that you like me too.” Slowly, he gains his confidence back which only just makes you squirm more.

“Yeah, but you said it first.” You give up from squirming in his grip, realizing that it’s warmer than letting your torso be exposed to the cold for another second. “If anything, I actually have the upper hand here.”

He shrugs. “So? I actually like saying it. I like you, I like you, I like you...” You open your mouth slightly to comment but he takes this as an opportunity to press a long kiss to your lips. “I like you. There.”

581 notes · View notes

hitozy · 3 years ago

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all you who sleep tonight ‹ masterlist › he and i

𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Sharing a bedroom had proven to be of no bother for either parties. Iwaizumi had feared it would be a bit awkward given that they weren't romantically involved, but his worries were a bit useless, YN had made it easy and comfortable for the both of them.

Cohabitating and sharing was starting to make him feel different as well. He couldn't really put a name on it, but it started when he began to see the little things around him.

Going into the bathroom and finding his toothbrush beside yn's. Her towel hanging beside his, the shower containing his and yn's products, he accidentally tried yn's body wash and ended up liking the smell and exfoliating that he mentioned to yn if she could buy more. She had giggled but agreed, mentioning the different types that there were which ended up in both of them starting to shop together after work and school.

He found himself staring at her as she looked over the products, making sure they are the right ones. Or when she pouts for Iwaizumi to have a heart and let her buy junk food (which he always does). Or when he opens the closet door to find his clothes beside hers, the contrast of variety and color always making him smile.

Or when he wakes up earlier than his alarm, turning his head to find her beside him. His eyes travelling from her hair sprawled around her pillow, her hands clutching said pillow up to her shoulders, watching the goosebumps appearing on her skin. Eyes travelling down to always find the bedsheet pooling under her waist and he never knows why or how. He would pull the sheet up, cover you as he watches you let out a soft sigh and a content smile that never fails to make his heart flutter.

It makes him wonder if he's always felt this way, and if not, since when?

―

Jae hasn't stopped calling him.

He thought that after the discussion they had at yn's parents last week would be enough to get her off his back, but it proved to be pointless and he was beginning to think that she did not leave the house by her own assessment.

Mr. and Mrs. LN must have sent her home after listening to her horrible criticism of their daughter. Something she had done in the past and never failed to sour his mood. He didn't know what her problem was, but he knew she was lying about everything concerning you, learning it was best to ignore her comments than correct her.

It was on the third day that he felt his patience snap. She had been calling him relentlessly to the point that the coach had asked him to take the call, 'It could be an emergency.' He disregarded it as spam calls and was left alone once he placed his cell the profile in vibration, so even though it was vibrating non-stop, at least everyone else couldn't hear it.

Once it was lunch break I pulled out my phone.

53 missed calls from Jae

15 voicemails probably from Jae

27 texts from Jae

He ignored Jae's attempts in communicating with him, deleting everything in one go and focusing on a little one who had also been trying to get in touch with him a while ago.

1 missed call from mochi mochi

3 texts from mochi mochi

mochi mochi: omg sorry! I forgot that you're in training rn mochi mochi: I was calling to let you know that I'm heading to the library for school work D: mochi mochi: letting you know because you wanted to pick me up today, i'll go home later dw! have a lovely day hajime♥

His little mochi was a bit selfless sometimes. He was going to text you back, but his irritation from Jae's insistency was rubbing him wrong all over his body so he thought best to call you and let your voice sooth his nerves.

"Hajime! Good morning, is anything wrong?" Just like that, he felt his frustrations be washed away at the sound of your voice, like cold water running all over him.

"Morning mochi, I saw your text, everything all right?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the athletes and the coaches acting as if they weren't listening but the way their bodies were leaning towards him gave it away.

He had half a mind at telling them to mind their own business.

"Ah, well, we got a request from the film majors to help out with their project scripts and we weren't actually going to do it, since we already have enough stuff as is," he recalls the nights he would come in late, watching you giving it your all even if you finished at 3am, he was worried about your health during that time and after your breakdown, he had a reason to be worried now, "luckily we are working in large teams, sadly I'm doing the rough draft."

"Sounds rough, mochi. Anything I can do to help?"

In an almost timid manner, she asked softly "Keep me company?"

How could he reject?

―

Once he hung up, one of the senior coaches passed behind him and smack his hand on his back with a grin, "The ol' ball 'n chain, huh? You should go and buy her something to eat today, having to tolerate your ass. Now come on, we have a team to train for a win."

―

11:45 pm

He had brought her favorite food and drink to the school library, sneaking to the back to eat and not get caught by anyone there. It look familiar yet very different from the one back in California, when he would stay until early morning studying on the weekends, with you doing the same in the video call in front of him.

Now your right in front of him, physically and mentally in his presence. He had been working on some stuff from work as you continued your studies and felt relived and in peace in the comfortable silence but, it had been a while since he had finished it all and he soon found himself staring at you.

The shape of your eyes, your soft hair, your nose, your soft lips, the curve of neck, the way your shirt shaped your breasts...

He mentally slapped himself at that thought, why- why the hell is he thinking of your breasts? Since when is he thinking about it? Why-

"Ah! I didn't even notice the time, let's go Hajime... are you okay?"

"Yeah, um why?"

"Your face is all red", she came to stand in front of him, touching his forehead, "hmm, you don't have a fever... maybe you're just tired? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to stay for so long." Her soft cold hand felt nice against his face as she rubbed her thumb up and down his forehead.

He remembered that she used to do this when she was younger, "You have to stop doing that Hajime!," she would exclaim as she rubbed his forehead in a similar matter as now, "You'll get wrinkles too young!"

The old memory made him laugh, your expression back then mirrored to present day. "What so funny?"

He smiled and took all of your stuff from the table, taking your hand in his, "Nothing, lets just go home, mochi."

Can you hear my heart? Oh, but I can tell! We are twin starts With different births. My caring shadow ― It has your face. The voice of my soul Knows well your name.

Tell me, Can you hear my heart? Oh! how I love you, My best friend.

Twin Stars ― Clairel Estevez

taglist ! @daphnxy @zukoslosthishonor @i-am-a-hoe-for-shinya @mrsdoradominguez-barnes @anejuuuuoy

a/n! i beat the system so here's a chapter guys ♥ also... since i couldn't post one last week, there will be a double post this one!

#iwaizumi hajime fic #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fic #iwaizumi x reader #owwaw #owwaw💔

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adventuresinwonderlust · 4 years ago

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Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 4

*FOR PART 1 CLICK HERE, FOR PART 2 CLICK HERE, FOR PART 3 CLICK HERE or SEE MASTERLIST*

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Talk of sexual favors, flirting, crack, humor, Slight angst, Implied Solo Masturbation (M) (F), Daddy Kink, Hand Job (M) Receiving, Tit Job.

Rating: 18 and over

Hobi:

Hobi shuffles in his bed, rolling about to get comfortable. He rolls towards his bedroom door, eyeing his side table for the time. 5:15am. He sighs, happy that he has nothing planned for the day but sleep. “Hobi.” He hears a growl from inside his bedroom. His eyes pop open, blood going cold as he slowly raises his head from his pillow. “Hello?” He whispers, praying that nothing responds. He blinks a few times, looking about frantically, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in his room. Suddenly, a dark blurb comes towards him, “Ahh…” His scream cut off by a cold, ringed hand around his mouth. “Quiet!” Yoongi growls, finally coming into view. Hobi’s eyes roll back, relief washing over him. Yoongi releases him, sitting on the end of his bed. “You scared me. I thought…I don’t know what I thought. What are you still doing here?” Hobi whispers, sitting up now. Yoongi stares off in the dark, dropping his head into his hand, saying nothing. “Alright, you’re scaring me again. What’s going on?”

“I’m going to kill you Hobi.” Yoongi lifts his head and states matter of fact. Hobi swallows hard. “Um, why?” “For putting me in this situation where I have to lie to Y/N! She told me she’s seeing someone after we, I, whatever.” “You fucked?” “No, you idiot!” “Come on Hyung, no need for name calling. Clearly you know she isn’t seeing anyone. She must’ve said it because she got nervous.” Yoongi grumbles, running his hand over his face, turning towards Hobi. “Or, maybe, she means Gloss. Which means I have to tell her that I’m Gloss.” Hobi feels his blood drain from his face. “No, come on. You’re overreacting here. She will flip out if she finds out and she will kill us, you and I, leaving you and Gloss with nothing.” Hobi watches as Yoongi contemplates his words, releasing a sigh. “Fine. I won’t say anything…. YET!” He waves a finger at Hobi. “I think that’s best. Maybe interact with her more as Gloss.” Hobi suggests. “She only wants Gloss to feed her salacious cravings. It’s not intimate like with me.” “Hyung, Gloss is you; you are Gloss. Find a way to merge the two.” Hobi urges. Yoongi nods, considering Hobi’s words again. “Where are you going?” Hobi questions when Yoongi stands. “Home. Goodnight.” Yoongi exits and Hobi throws himself back on his bed. “Sleep? Now… never.” Hobi says aloud, tossing the covers off and heading to the bathroom for a shower.

Y/N:

Gloss,

I need more. I need you, to see you. We are coming up on the end of our first month and you mentioned it being a trial period. Well, I want to continue our arrangement. If you agree, you’d make me a happy girl. I miss you. Please send nudes.

XOXO,

WildGoddess

“Good morning.” Hobi emerges from his room looking exhausted. “Hung over?” You ask. “No, just didn’t get much sleep. How about you?” “I slept fine.” “No, I mean why do you look like shit?” Your eyes widen, “Uh, I let Yoongi eat me out last night.” You confess, crossing your legs to keep from feeling the intense need growing by just remembering it. Hobi’s brows slowly shoot up, his mouth hangs open for a moment before taking the shape of an ‘o’. “How was that?” He finally asks. You bite your lip, feeling your face flush. “Fucking amazing Hobi. I really like him.” “Wow! That’s great news!” “It's terrible!” You contradict. “Why?” He leans in closer to you. “Because I like Gloss and I know you’re going to say I’m dumb for liking a guy I’ve never seen or met but I can’t help it ok. There’s just something about him that I can’t shake.” “Look Y/N, I’m never going to judge you but what I will say is Yoongi is right here with you in this moment and he really likes you. Gloss, well, he’s there also but not as intimately as Yoongi. He’s not going to be hurt if you ghost him, whereas Yoongi will be.” You grunt in annoyance at the thought of Yoongi being hurt. “I totally kicked him out last night. I don’t know why but I felt like I was cheating. I’m so stupid Hobi.” You whine, tossing your body into his arms. He squeezes you tightly. “It’s ok to be confused. Relationships aren’t easy.” “You can say that again. So, what do I do? Drop Gloss? Keep spending time with Yoongi? See them both?” Hobi shrugs. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you with that one. Only you can really decide what’s best for you. Your online crush or your flesh and blood one?”

You nod, thinking it over. Hobi is right, this shouldn’t be hard at all. You’ve never met Gloss; you have no real attachment to him. Who cares if you ghost him? You should pick Yoongi, he’s right here with you and he likes you with all your craziness. Suddenly as you think you’ve come to a decision your phone buzzes.

WildGoddess,

Here’s my number xxx-xxx-xxxx. It’s time we spoke in real time. You want nudes? Text my phone, I won’t send them here. By the way, I love the way your cunt sounds for me. I bet she’s the sweetest tasting fruit on earth. Hurry up and text me Goddess, I’m eager to show you just how hard my cock gets at the sound of you. Waiting.

XXX,

Gloss

“You ok?” Hobi asks and you realize your breathing is heavy. “Yeah, just got a message I didn’t expect.” “Ok, well, I’m going to go for a run, wanna join?” “No thanks.” He nods, getting up to grab his gear. You head into your room, fumbling with your phone.

Me: Gloss?

Gloss: Goddess?

Me: Yes.

Gloss: Hi.

Me: Hi.

You don’t know what to say next instead lying back on your bed, bending your legs, and spreading them wide. You pull your sweater up to reveal your mound and grab it with your free hand, snapping a picture and sending it to Gloss. You wait for what feels like forever for him to respond. Moaning when you get back a picture of his unzipped pants, his shaft visible, but erect cock pressed tightly against the clothing.

Me: Tease.

Gloss: No Goddess, teasing would be me telling you that I’m stroking this fat cock right now to the sound of your sweet cunt.

Me: I wish I was there watching.

Gloss: Sucking me off?

Me: Yes.

Gloss: Naughty girl.

Me: So naughty. So wet.

Gloss: Show me.

You gasp, shedding your panties and spreading your legs again, angling the camera just right to capture your glistening core. Hitting send when satisfied.

Gloss: Fuck, so needy. I wish I was there.

Me: Licking my cunt?

Gloss: Stretching her out.

You moan, unable to take it any longer, rubbing your clit roughly. Your high building quickly until soon your orgasm hits you in waves, your back arching as you cry out Gloss’ name.

Me: I just came.

Gloss: Me too.

You bite your lip at the new picture you receive of white strands of his seed strewn across his black t-shirt.

Me: So. fucking. hot.

Gloss: Wish you were here?

Me: Yes, licking it up.

Gloss: Soon. Talk later naughty girl.

Yoongi:

Yoongi sits at his computer desk, set up to film a dual hand kink/ ASMR for his SIO page. He hits record on the camera that is angled at the desk and he places a golden bowl filled with honey beside a left sided ear mic. He chuckles softly into the right ear mic that is beside his mouth, licking his lips. He starts by dipping his left hand into the honey, allowing it to engulf his digits fully, the squelching sound captured by the mic. He closes his fist in the liquid, flexing so his veins pop out, then soon opens his hand, lifting it up and out of the bowl. He allows the honey to drip from the tips of his long slender fingers back into the bowl. As the honey continues to drip down, he moves his right hand under his left, letting the fluid cascade onto his dry hand, soon bringing his right hand into the bowl, capturing the same sound again. Once fully coated in honey, he brings his right hand up, allowing the honey to drip back into the bowl. He brings both of his sticky hands together and begins to rub the mixture around both his hands and through his fingers.

He soon brings his right hand up to his lips and takes his index finger into his mouth, slurping on his digit in the right ear mic. Flashes of his night with Y/N soon flood his mind and he begins to clean each finger slowly and languidly, slurping and moaning gently until each one of his fingers is clean. He rests his now clean right hand on the desk in view of the camera, bringing his left hand up to begin lapping up his mess. His senses soon become flooded with Y/N’s scent and he moans unabashedly into the mic, licking at his own palm wishing it was her cunt. Soon his hand is clean, and he is out of breath. He places his left hand down beside the right to show off his hard work. He chuckles into the mic, wishing his followers a goodnight, turning of the camera. He edits and uploads the video to his SIO page under the title ‘Midnight Snack’.

Before too long its morning and he is headed to the main building Iced Americano in hand, butterflies in his belly, awaiting the arrival of Y/N. He picks at the corner of his weekly assignment, looking at the door every time it opens. She’s never this late. Soon the door opens, and his face drops at the sight of Hobi walking in. “What are you doing here?” Hobi chuckles nervously. “Uh,” He sits next to Yoongi, “I have to drop off Y/N’s assignment before I head to class.” “Why? What’s wrong with her? Is she ok?” Hobi nods, avoiding eye contact with Yoongi. “Hobi.” Yoongi says sternly, causing his friend to look at him now. “She didn’t want to see you ok.” Yoongi huffs, standing quickly as the professor enters the classroom asking everyone to bring their assignments forward. “Don’t be upset ok. She’s still working through her feelings. Relationships are hard for her.” “Whatever. Remind her we have a team project together and she can’t avoid me forever.” “Ah, Hyung, don’t be upset.” “This is actually all your fault. Why did you even give her my code in the first place? I told you I wasn’t her type.” “We both know that’s not true.” “It is!” Yoongi shouts, his voice echoing through the hall, causing Hobi’s eyes to pop open in shock.

“She likes assholes like Trevor and Gloss! Not me.” Yoongi says defeated walking off in a huff. “Hyung!! Wait!!” Hobi runs up behind him, yanking his arm. “Please, look, I gave her your code because I knew she would open up to Gloss. Gloss is all the things she craves, but Yoongi, Yoongi is all the things she needs. The beauty of this is that it's all you. We aren’t talking about two different people here. Cheer up ok. This is all going to work itself out. Trust me.” Yoongi just shrugs, pulling his vibrating phone out.

Goddess: My god Gloss, your video today was insane. I don’t think I will ever get over the sound of you sucking on your fingers. You are so fucking hot.

Me: I was inspired, thinking of just how great you’d taste.

Goddess: I sent over your $1000. I figured you’d send me more than just your shaft.

Me: Naughty girl. Do you think you deserve it?

Goddess: I’ll do anything.

Me: I’ll keep that in mind. Talk later.

“Maybe I’ve been playing this all wrong Hobi. Gloss isn’t in control here, I am. I just need to shift gears.” Yoongi looks up from his phone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just be yourself, don’t change it up.” Hobi shakes his head while saying. “Maybe, we’ll see. Talk later.” Yoongi declares, patting Hobi in the arm with renewed confidence, walking off.

Y/N:

“Well? What did he say?” You ask Hobi as he arrives home. “He was unhappy for sure and said you guys have a team assignment and you can’t avoid him forever.” Hobi plops down on the couch beside you. “He’s right. I am being super childish. I should just talk to him. Explain the whole Gloss thing to him.” Hobi pops up from his leaned back position. “Woah, I wouldn’t do that. I mean just explain that you needed to clear your head. I mean this doesn’t have anything to do with Gloss really. It has to do with you and your crazy brain.” You nod, Hobi is right, no sense in making Yoongi jealous over a guy you’ve never met. “Why don’t you just call him?” Hobi suggests. “I don’t have his number, besides this is a conversation to be had face to face.” “I couldn’t agree more. This Friday is his birthday. I usually go over to his place with a cake, and we stuff our faces and get drunk. You should come.” “I don’t think he’s going to want to see me on his birthday.” Hobi shrugs. “Oh, come on. He will definitely want to see you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some special requests to fill. May I suggest headphones, I’m going to be loud.” “Ugh, gross!” You wince as Hobi laughs off to his room.

You head to your room and surf through Gloss’ SIO page, combing through older videos you have yet to watch when you come across the comments on his latest video. One in particular catching your eye.

Misty101: The heavenly sounds of a cunt eating GOD! :-*

Your eyes bulge open at the comment and you feel your face burn as jealousy hits you. You take to scrolling through older comments from other videos, seeing her pop up once again under his Leather or Lace video.

Misty101: That sound, brings back memories. ;-*

“She knows him.” You whisper to yourself. You try clicking on her name, but nothing happens. “Fuck!” You shout. “She knows him.” You repeat over and over, racing to Hobi’s room, busting through the door. “Ugh gross, Hobi, put that thing away!” You groan, shielding your eyes from Hobi’s reddened cock. “What the fuck Y/N? Can’t you knock. I’m filming.” He grumbles, fumbling with the camera, trying to cover himself up at the same time. “You can look now.” He declares.

“Does the name Misty101 mean anything to you?” You ask, wide eyed. “Uh, no, should it?” “I don’t know I guess not. She comments a lot on Gloss’ post.” “So, how many of his followers do that? Why does she matter?” “Because she comments like she knows him.” Hobi scoffs, shaking his head frantically. “No, no, no. Gloss has been anonymous since he started SIO. There is no one on that site that knows him personally. Well, besides me.” “Just tell me who he is Hobi.” You kneel beside your friend pleading at him with your eyes. “Get out Y/N, I’m working.” “Fuck you Hobi. You’re the worst friend ever!” “Yeah, yeah.” He groans.

Back in your room, you comb through social media looking for girls named Misty. After what feels like hours, you come across your friend Steph’s Instagram post with a busty blonde tagged under the username Misty101 and you feel as if you’ve seen her before. You scroll through Steph’s page and find multiple posts with Misty, squealing when you see they takes classes together and seemingly know each other well.

The following day, you head to the main building hoping to “bump” into Misty. As you walk through the halls aimlessly, your eyes pop open at the sight of Misty walking towards you. “Hi, uh, Misty is it?” “Yeah? Do I know you?” She asks with a side eye but keeps walking. “Uh, no but I’ve seen you around with Steph.” “Oh, yeah. How are you? What can I do for you?” “I had kind of a weird question.” She stops walking now and turns to face you. “Like what?” “Like, um, do you know Gloss?” You whisper. She gives you an annoyed look, crossing her arms. “I follow him on SIO, so what? What are you the fun police?” “Uh, no, I follow him too. I meant; do you know him like in person.” She laughs heartily in your face. “You like him huh? I get it. He’s fucking hot. All those sexy videos he puts up online, what a tease. To answer your question, yes, I know him in person and no I won’t tell you who he is. What I can tell you is that you’re violating SIO’s privacy policy by coming to me like this. How you even found me I don’t know but I imagine stalking was involved. Stay away from me psycho and I won’t tell Gloss you’re looking for him.” She turns and begins walking away, leaving your mouth hanging open. “Oh, and since I’m sure you’re curious. Yes, we have fucked, and he is AMAZING in bed.” She laughs again, this time leaving.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and pull out your phone. Texting furiously, tears burning your eyes.

Me: The deal is off. Keep this latest payment as a FUCK YOU!! You’re a liar. You said you’ve never done this with anyone before but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Don’t contact me again!

Gloss: I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you want your money back, you can have it, but I never lied.

You read Gloss’ message and feel the tears stream down your face.

Me: I’m blocking you now!

Yoongi:

“Alright guys, good job today! I’ll see you next week and I want to see that you’ve been practicing at home. Have a great weekend!” Yoongi waves off his students, plopping down at a piano and fiddling with the keys. He closes his eyes and begins to play a slow and melancholy tune, releasing the built-up tension from his text conversation with Y/N. He was growing tired of the back-and-forth game of playing himself and Gloss for her. He was ready to confess. “I forgot how talented you were.” He hears from the doorway, causing him to stop playing and open his eyes. He rolls his eyes at the sight of Misty standing before him. “Why are you here?” “We need to talk.” “Do we though?” “Yes, it’s important. You have a stalker.” She walks in, sitting at one of the other pianos. “Clearly.” He notes, closing the cover on the piano keys and standing. “Not me asshole. Some girl. She follows your SIO page and somehow found me and approached me on campus yesterday asking a lot of questions.”

Yoongi begins gathering his things, unbothered by this story, sure the girl was Y/N. “Let me guess. You told her we fucked.” Misty’s jaw drops before forming a pout. “Well, that was after I told her that I wouldn’t say a thing about you. I promised you I would protect your privacy and look I did. Aren’t you happy daddy?” She asks, sliding out of her seat and onto her knees before Yoongi. There was a time this would turn him on, he would happily grip her hair, fill her mouth with his cock and send her off but that time is no longer. Yoongi rolls his eyes again, “No Misty, happy isn’t the word I would use and please don’t call me daddy. I would’ve been happy to know that you had actually said nothing. Instead, you let jealousy get the best of you, didn’t you?” Yoongi moves forward, smirking when her eyes light up then drop as Yoongi walks past her, gathering his sheet music from just behind her.

She lets out a defeated moan. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. She intimidated me, I guess. She’s really pretty and I thought about you touching her the way you used to touch me.” Yoongi chuckles now, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “Get up,” He commands, “and next time someone approaches you about Gloss, just tell them you don’t know him. Remember, you fucked me, Yoongi, not Gloss. Gloss came into play after you and I were together. I was the fool who thought I could trust you with that side of my life. It seems I was wrong.” “No! Please Dad… Yoongi. I... I’m sorry,” She stands, grabbing Yoongi’s hand, “I didn’t tell her a thing. She knows nothing. I mean, do you know her? Like her?” Yoongi yanks his hand away. “You don’t get to ask me questions Misty. We are far from friends. Now, you need to leave. Thank you for being honest with me but this could’ve been a phone call.” “Look, I know I hurt you back when we dated Yoongi, but I still care about you. I just don’t want you getting caught up on some SIO stalker. Just be careful, ok?” He nods but says nothing else, releasing a held in sigh once she departs. He opens his messages in his phone, reading Gloss’ texts with Y/N, a newfound understanding to her anger.

Yoongi emerges from the shower happy to be home and relaxing. He tries to send a text message to Y/N’s phone.

ME: Good Evening Goddess. I hope you aren’t still upset with me. I’d really love to talk. It’s important.

*It appears this caller has blocked you*

Yoongi grumbles, tossing his phone to the side. He brushes his fingers through his still damp hair, reaching for the remote, when a knock on his door leaves him rolling his head back in annoyance. He hops up to answer the door, yanking it open. “Happy birthday!!” He hears, closing his eyes before the popped confetti can blind him. He feels two people push past him and he stands in the doorway dusting the confetti from his bangs before turning around to face his welcome wagon. “I’ve already ordered burgers, tacos, and pizza.” Hobi explains but it’s Y/N that he can’t take his eyes off. She stands in his kitchen, pulling a cake out of a box, not looking up at him. Hobi is filling the fridge with beer before walking over and hugging Yoongi. “Happy birthday Hyung!” “Thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure.” Yoongi nods to Y/N. “Uh, I’m going to run to the liquor store and grab some whiskey. Be back.” Hobi smiles, tapping Yoongi’s arm and taking his leave. “Happy birthday Yoongi. I told Hobi it was terrible idea to just barge in with cake in hand, but he said he always does this.” Y/N declares, finally looking at him. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s a yearly tradition for Hobi but I am surprised you’re here, especially after what happened between us.” She nods. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Explain myself better.” Yoongi waves her towards the couch. “Please do.” She walks over and takes a seat, tapping the couch for Yoongi to join her.

Yoongi sits beside her, resting his arms on the back of the couch, waiting for her to speak. She turns a bit to face him. “First I want to say that you did nothing wrong. I had an amazing time. You were amazing honestly.” She looks down as Yoongi licks his lips. “But.” Yoongi says, amused by his effect on her. “But I was, shouldn’t, have done that with you without telling you that I was talking to someone. It’s not fair to you. So, I want to apologize for that.” Yoongi nods. “Are we referring to the guy whose name you don’t know?” “Please don’t do that that. I know his name I just, you wouldn’t understand. It’s a complicated situation.” Yoongi laughs. “You making up a boyfriend so you wouldn’t have to deal with me? Yeah, that is a bit complicated for sure Y/N. I do, however, get the concepts of one-night stands. We could’ve just fucked and ended it there but to lie about some guy is childish no?” “I’m not lying. I am or was rather, talking to someone.” “Oh, so you’re not now?” “Well, no, we are kind of having a fight.” Yoongi nods, rubbing his eyes. “Well, good luck with your mystery man Y/N. I don’t want to intrude.” “If the circumstances were different Yoongi…” “Don’t do that. I don’t like to play in what ifs. Either you want me, or you don’t because I know what I want.” He declares. She stares at him, her bottom lip tucked in her teeth and Yoongi burns with desire for her. He just wants to confess, tell her everything right there. Scoop her into his lap and ravage her. She wants it too, he can see it in her eyes, how badly she craves him. “So, do you know what you want?” He whispers. “I bought a case. I figure we could use it.” Hobi pants, dropping the case on the counter. “Saved by the liquor.” Y/N whispers to Yoongi, who can’t help but chuckle at her comment.

Y/N:

“He’s pretty but like hot.” You slur to Hobi, who laughs at you stumbling across the kitchen, cake in hand. “I’m sitting right here you know.” Yoongi drawls, running his hands through his hair to get it out of his face. You feel your pulse accelerate just watching him. “How do you know I’m talking about you?” You smirk at him, placing the cake before Yoongi. “Cause Hobi may be hot but he’s definitely not pretty.” He says while sipping from his whiskey glass. “Hey, people think I’m pretty. Breutiful actually.” Hobi hiccups, his face flushed. Yoongi laughs repeating the word ‘Breutiful’ under his breath. “You’re the most breutiful man I know Hoseok.” You tease, squeezing his cheeks. “Alright, alright, let's do this. 1.2. 1. 2. 3. Happy Birthday to you...” Hobi begins while you light the candles on the Yoongi’s cake, singing along. It goes dead silent as Yoongi smirks at the lit candles, then at you, then back at the cake. You smile at him suspiciously. “Hurry up, make a wish before they all melt down.” You urge. Yoongi tilts his head slightly, closing his eyes, muttering to himself, popping his eyes open abruptly and blowing out the candles. “What did you wish for?” Hobi hiccups. “He can’t say or else it won’t come true.” You scold Hobi, handing Yoongi a knife to cut the cake. “I’m good.” He waves before taking the knife from you. “You have to have cake on your birthday.” You tell him, cutting into the cake yourself. You hand him a slice, cutting a piece for Hobi and yourself after.

“I bet I can guess your wish.” Hobi points his fork at Yoongi. “Bet you can’t.” Yoongi smirks. Hobi just cracks up, slapping his leg leaving you feeling out of the loop to an inside joke. You roll your eyes at them, slowly looking around Yoongi’s place, taking in the subtle details when you notice the closed door beside the bathroom. “So, tell me Yoongi why do you have a two bedroom when you live alone?” You spin around looking down the hall of his apartment. “His office of course. How do you think he gets his work done?” Hobi slurs, sitting up to point at the room. “Shut up Hobi.” Yoongi clips, seeming uneasy. Your eyes light up and you rise from your seat.

“What kind of work?” You tease, walking towards the room. “Don’t.” Yoongi calls out to you sarcastically, completely unbothered by you walking off. “Is it like a 50 Shades Red Room?” You giggle, turning the knob, only to find it locked. “Is that what you want it to be?” Yoongi asks, suddenly behind you, causing you to yelp. “You scared me.” You whine, shoving him. He smiles, moving closer to you, until your back is pressed against the door. You lick your lips, feeling your pussy throb. “I should get Hobi home.” You pant, hearing Hobi grumble groggily from the living room. “Or you guys can crash.” Yoongi offers. Your heart flips at the thought and you chuckle nervously, feeling Yoongi’s breath on your cheek. “Where exactly would we sleep?” “Hobi’s found his spot and as for us, I don’t intend on sleeping tonight. Do you?” You look up into his lustful eyes, your needy moan caught by Yoongi’s mouth as he takes you into a passionate kiss. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, his tongue gliding across your bottom lip as a means of access and you happily deliver. You part your lips for him, giving him full allowance to ravage your mouth. You mewl desperately into the kiss when he expertly swirls his tongue around yours, your need soaking through your panties. “Yoongi,” You whine, breaking away to catch your breath, “We shouldn’t.” He kisses along your jaw and down your neck, suckling at the soft flesh, driving you wild. “If you want me to stop, I will, but don’t give me a bullshit excuse about some guy whose name you don’t know. Just be honest and tell me what you really want.” He whispers into your flesh between kisses.

You stare at each other for what feels like forever, the air surrounding you both being pulled into a black hole of need and lust. “It's not you, really. It’s me. My head is all over the place.” You whisper. Yoongi swallows hard, nodding, and moving away from you. “Are you upset?” You ask him. “Never,” He smiles, running his thumb across your cheek, “I can take the couch with Hoseok. You take my bed.” “No, you sleep in your bed. I wouldn’t feel right taking your bed.” You protest. “Has chivalry died Y/N?” You giggle at your owns words being thrown back at you, shaking your head in response. He takes your hand leading you over to his bedroom, opening the door to reveal his quaint candle lit room. “Sheets are clean, I just changed them today.” He notes. You look over the black bedsheets and smirk. “Black is your color Yoongi.” He hums in response. “Get some rest beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning.” You nod, walking into the room, turning to watch Yoongi leave. Your heart drops in your chest and you feel an immediate loneliness.

You sit on the edge of his bed, looking about, smiling at the bookshelf headboard that surrounds his bed. You read the names of the various books he has stacked and wonder to yourself if he’s read them all. On another shelf he has an alarm clock, a mini globe that you can't help but spin, and a baby photo of himself with what you imagine is his mother. You run your fingers along the shelves, humming in wonder when you feel an uneven ridge in one boxed section. You press on the section, gasping when it clicks to reveal a hidden drawer. You look back at the door to be sure no one is there and pull the drawer open. Inside you find a box of tissues, condoms, fabric ties, and a small black bottle of personal lubricant. “Such a naughty boy Min Yoongi.” You whisper, taking out the lube to read the label. A soft knock on the door startles you and you slam the drawer shut quickly turning to face the person entering. Yoongi enters, “Sorry, wanted to grab a hoodie. It's kind of chilly in the living room. I don’t normally sleep out there.” He chuckles, walking towards his dresser. “You don’t have to apologize, it's your room.” You murmur nervously tucking the bottle of lube under your shirt.

Yoongi looks over at you, hoodie in hand, “What are up to over there?” “Nothing, why?” He tilts his head slightly, biting his bottom lip and pointing behind you. “Find anything you like?” You turn your head and notice the drawer slightly open still. You begin to stutter out an explanation but can't seem to manage one. Soon, Yoongi is hovering over you, pushing the drawer closed until you hear a soft click. “You know, it’s rude to snoop.” He whispers, running his slender fingers along your jaw, turning your face upward to face him. You swallow hard, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I know naughty girl but since you did, did you find anything you like?” He looks down into your lap, almost as if he has X-ray vision and can see you fiddling with the bottle in your hand. You nibble your bottom lip, looking down and exposing the black bottle. You hold it up and watch as a sly grin spreads across Yoongi’s face, the candlelight highlighting his full pout. “And just what were you looking to do with that?” He questions. “I was just reading it.” You whisper. “Mm hm and was it an interesting read?” He takes the bottle from you, examining it, and handing it back. “Not really.” You respond breathily, entranced by how he pouts down at you. “Well, if I recall correctly naughty girl, you were not in need of any assistance when it came to getting wet. So, that bottle is lost on you.” You shrug, rolling the bottle in your hand. “Well, I’ll leave you to it naughty girl. Get some rest.” He smiles, exiting the room.

You roll the bottle in your hand, pondering to yourself what it is you really want. You bite your lip, deciding to be brave and give in to your urges. This was Yoongi, not some faceless stranger online. Yoongi would understand, embrace you, make you feel good. You jumped up out of the bed, pulling off your pants and shirt, standing only in your underwear. You walk over to Yoongi’s dresser and grab a shirt from one of the drawers, throwing it over your body. You open the door to his room quietly, peaking out to find him sitting on the couch awake, the light from his phone illuminating his face. You look over and see Hobi still passed out, mouth open, drool hitting the pillow his head is resting on. You smirk to yourself, “Here goes nothing.” You make your way out of the room and towards Yoongi. He sits up immediately, “You ok?” You nod, raising the bottle of lube in your hand. “I was thinking that maybe this is lost on me, but it won't be lost on you. It is your birthday after all. I still owe you a gift.” You look down at him and smile giddily at his widened gaze.

“What happened to your head being all over the place?” He questions, sitting up straight and eyeing you suspiciously. You shrug, removing his shirt to reveal your sheer underwear underneath. “It is all over the place but right now I’m here, in this moment with you.” He shakes his head, his breath quickening at the sight of you half naked in front of him. “Y/N, you're killing me. What do you want? I can't keep up with this back and forth.” “Shh, just let me make you feel good.” You whisper, mounting him and catching his lips in a needy kiss. He growls into your mouth, gripping your hips tightly. You run your fingers up the back of his head, keeping him locked into the kiss, while pressing your chest into his. Soon his hesitation fades and he begins to ravage your mouth with his tongue, pressing his growing erection into your core. You moan loudly when he grinds up against your heat, trailing kisses along your neck. You begin to flick your hips to rub your core along his hard on, needing friction against your swollen bud, crying out when he nibbles on your collar bone. “Fuck, you feel so good pressed against me.” He moans into the flesh of your neck, licking and sucking his way down to your cleavage. “Please god tell me these nipple rings are real?” He groans, suckling on your erect nipple through your sheer bra. You gasp at the sensation that shoots down to your dripping cunt, calling out his name when he grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing tightly, then coming down on the flesh hard with his palm. The loud *SLAP* filling the room.

Hobi groans incoherently across from you both and neither of you can help but look in his direction, just to be sure he’s still passed out. Once you realize he is still fast asleep, you begin grinding into Yoongi’s lap again, the feel of his thick cock driving you crazy. “Maybe we should go to my bedroom.” Yoongi suggests. “No, the thought of getting caught turns me on.” You moan, pressing harder into Yoongi’s erection. He can't help but throw his head back, chuckling loudly, “You never fail to surprise me naughty girl.” “Can I touch your cock now daddy?” You moan, shoving Yoongi back into the couch. His eyes go dark with heated lust and he nods, running his hands down your arms as you reach for his waist band. You keep eye contact with him as you take his length in your grasp, squeezing it and a sweet moan from his throat before pulling it from his sweats. He sucks a breath in through his teeth at the feel of you pumping his cock. “Fuck, that feels good.” “Bet I can make it better.” You say, planting a kiss on his soft pout. You grab the black bottle of lube from beside you and flip the top open, playfully allowing a long spurt to drool down his tip. He groans at the sensation, gripping your hips once again when you grab him with both hands, gliding and twisting your fists up and down his length, spreading the cool liquid about.

“Shit.” He says under his breath, dropping a hand between your thighs to rub your clothed clit. You moan, bucking your hips at his touch. “Don't, its ok. This is about you.” You whisper to him, dropping your left hand into his sweats to cup his balls, kneading and tugging at them, whilst giving him long languid strokes with your right hand. He’s a panting mess of curses, his head lolling back and forth, unsure if he wants to look down and watch you work, or stare into your eyes. “You like the way I stroke your cock daddy? Am I doing it well?” You tease, knowing the answer from his uncontrollable moans and groans. “Don’t tease, just make me cum.” He growls through clench teeth. You lick your lips happily, using your sticky hands to pull his sweats down. He lifts his hips to assist you, smirking as you gaze upon his fat cock. “Better than Trevor?” He whispers, stroking himself while you stare in awe. You grab the bottle again this time squirting the lube onto your cleavage, moving your breast apart so the cool liquid slides between your mounds. “Oh, fuck.” Yoongi whimpers, watching you drop to your knees in front of him. “Tell me if you want me to stop daddy.” You whisper, taking Yoongi’s cock from him and giving it a few strokes before leading it under your bra and between your lathered breasts.

His head falls back as you begin to squeeze your tits together, rocking your upper body back and forth across his length. “God, shit, fuck.” He chants over and over, dropping his head down to watch the show. “You’re so fucking amazing. God, please don’t stop.” He moans, gripping the couch cushions beside him. “I’m gonna make you cum for me daddy, all over my tits, all over my face.” You tease, picking up your pace, squeezing your mounds around him tighter. His breath quickens with your pace and he leans forward to free your breast, switching between tugging on your nipples and rolling your piercings between his fingers. You moan at the amazing sensation, fucking him faster with your tits, focusing attention on his sensitive tip. His mouth hangs open and soon he covers your hands with his, kissing you hard, swirling his tongue around in your mouth. “I’m gonna cum all over these amazing tits naughty girl. You’re going to look so amazing covered in my cum.” He grunts, squeezing your tits around his cock harder, hitching his hips upwards now. “Cum for me daddy.” “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He growls, his hot seed shooting out rapidly onto your tits, neck, and soon your open mouth. He sucks in a breath at the feel of you suckle on his tip, cleaning the last bits of orgasm away. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He chuckles, tilting his head and swirling his cum around on your exposed tits. “Happy Birthday daddy.” You whisper, taking his now dirty hand into your mouth to clean his digits of his mess. “Best birthday ever Y/N.” You smile at him, covering your tits up with your bra again.

“You guys are a bunch of fucking freaks. I’m going to sleep in your room Hyung. Ugh, disgusting. Add this to the list of things I never needed to see.” Hobi grumbles, making his way to Yoongi’s room. You and Yoongi stare at Hobi as he walks away in shock before looking at one another and bursting into laughter. “Please God let him not remember this in the morning.” “I thought getting caught turned you on.” “I said the thought of getting caught, not actually getting caught!” You explain. “Well, come on naughty girl, lets take a shower. I’ll return the favor for an amazing birthday gift.” “Yoongi. That’s ok. I’ll just clean up on my own. I’m still kind of in my head you know. I really like you I just, I’m not ready to be serious with you, at least not till I break things off with the guy I’m talking to.” Yoongi looks at you with pure annoyance on his face. He shakes his head and stands quickly. “I’m gonna go sleep in my office. Feel free to enjoy the couch. Thanks again for the birthday gift or whatever.” He grumbles. “Yoongi please, don’t be upset.” “I’m not mad at you Y/N. I’m mad at myself. I fall for the same bullshit over and over because I actually like you and keep thinking that something will come of this but honestly, I don’t know why? You don’t like me the way I like you. Maybe I just need to take a step back. This is torture you know. For the both of us. It’s not just you though. It’s my fault too, so, I’m sorry. Have a goodnight.” “Yoongi, please.” You whimper. “It’s all good Y/N, don’t worry about it.” Yoongi heads to his office, pulling a chain from his neck and using the key that dangles from it to unlock the door. You stare at him until he disappears completely, dropping your head into your hands once he’s gone.

#bts smut #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi smut

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lupinlongbottom · 5 years ago

Text

Practically a Weasley pt. 2

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Home for the holidays! Finally, after the end of a bitter war, the Weasleys have some much needed family time to catch up on. The holidays are the perfect time to celebrate family, no? Charlie and (Y/N) seem to agree.

Word Count: 3.8k+

Warnings: None

A/N: A much anticipated part 2 to my Practically a Weasley fic! I love writing for Charlie. Dragon boy just doesn’t get much love, does he? Also Fred ain’t dead. My heart couldn’t handle that if it were true.

Part 1 ... Part 1.5 ... Part 3 ... Epilogue

The Burrow was fluttering with delight, the holidays had been finally sworn in with the arrival of the entire Weasley clan. How long had it been since most of the redheaded family sat under one roof, let alone one table? With everyone’s various lines of work and hectic schedules, it was a surprise and a holiday miracle even half of them had shown up.

Bill was enchanting the younger children with vast stories of his work as a curse-breaker (with a little exaggeration, of course). Molly and Arthur were bickering about him bringing yet another Muggle artifact home for the holidays. And Charlie? He sat quietly at the end of the table, humming along to Celestina Warbeck’s newest album, gingerly holding (Y/N)’s hand with delight.

Nothing had changed, not really, not ever.

“How do you know all of the words already? She just released these songs like, two days ago?” (Y/N) chuckled, taking a small sip of the hot beverage in front of her.

“I have a perfect memory,” Charlie mused, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of her hand. “Or, did you forget?”

“I suppose I did, Mr. Weasley.” (Y/N) grinned, eyes flitting across the various freckles under his brown eyes.

“Such a shame, you really ought to know better, Mrs. Weasley.” A soft peck danced across their lips.

Ah. So something had changed.

“Ew.” Fred spat, eyeing his older brother down from across the table.

“Double ew,” George retorted. “Get a room.”

“They’re married, you gits,” said Ginny, bumping Fred in the arm. “Let them be.”

“She’s my best friend!” groaned Fred.

“Wow,” muttered George, a hand rising to his chest. “After all we’ve been through, Freddie? I’m gutted.”

(Y/N) chuckled quietly at the twins, now not-so-playfully fighting each other across the table. “They’ll never grow up, will they?” Whilst the twins began their fight to the death via dull forks, the newlywed couple pulled away from one another for the first time in hours.

“No, I reckon not,” Charlie hummed, rising from his seat. “If they’re going to continue on like this, I might as well pour myself a glass of firewhisky. Did you want one, love?”

Silently, (Y/N) shook her head, allowing Charlie to flee the scene for a few moments. The album had finally reached the end of the track, resulting in Molly starting it right back up. Ron and Ginny groaned gaudily, as this had been the fifth time she had done so this evening. The two shut right up after Bill had sent them both a quick and sharp glance.

“I must say,” Molly began. “I never imagined the lot of us sitting around one table again,” The war had reached its climatic end only a few months prior, wounds starting to finally heal. “I’m truly blessed to have almost my entire family together for the holidays—”

“—minus Perce, Fleur and Harry, of course!” George piped up.

“Right,” Molly cleared her throat. “As I said, almost the entire family.”

“Fleur sends her regards, truly. But with the condition her mother is in right now, she needed to be home,” Bill responded, again apologizing for his wife’s lack of attendance. “And Percy and Harry will be joining us in the coming days, no?”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, leaving the absence of his brother and best friend at that. “Harry’s got some errands to run, or whatever. I reckon he’s out buying gifts even when we asked him not to.” Ron chuckled.

“Well, regardless of who isn’t here, we still have a large family. A growing family at that!” Arthur rejoiced, causing (Y/N)’s face to drop slightly. “It’s (Y/N)’s first holidays as an official Weasley!”

(Y/N) felt her face flush. A sigh of relief. “Oh Arthur, that’s hardly anything to celebrate…”

“Hogwash,” Charlie retorted, returning with his promised firewhisky, and a glass of water for (Y/N). “You can’t escape now, you’re sorta in it for life, yeah?”

“I feel like it’s already been a lifetime, love.” She chuckled. “Besides, just because we signed some stupid paper and wear these rings—”

“—wonderfully selected by your adoring husband.” Charlie mused, wriggling his left hand. The cool silver shone off his hand, a matching band with (Y/N)’s delicate ring.

“You know what I mean, Charles.” snickered (Y/N). “I mean, I’ve practically been a Weasley since second year!”

“It’s true,” George paused, setting his fork down. “I mean, we would’ve married her first but—”

“—we were too busy being repulsed by the thought!” Fred finished, poking his tongue out slightly.

(Y/N) returned the gesture.

“You lot will never grow up,” said Molly, shaking her head. “Whatever the case, I’m truly blessed to have another daughter.”

“Mum, just remember to think about the daughter you’ve always had, yeah?” Ginny laughed, causing the entire table to join in.

Hours passed, with it, a final read through of (Y/N)’s latest project. The sequel to The Distracted Dragon. While she had intended to finish the novel earlier, something larger than herself had erupted in their little world that needed attending to. The various fans of the first story were surely gutted, but to be completely fair to all involved, a war seemed like a pretty eminent reason to move the newest addition on the back burner.

“So you’re telling me… Bancroft gets a girlfriend?” Ron asks, looking to (Y/N) for an answer. She hesitantly gave a nod. “That’s the moral of the story? Get yourself a girlfriend and all your problems will be solved?”

“No,” Fred sniffed, moved by the book. “Ronnie, the moral is that sometimes we need help from another person to grow and accept our past!” With a loud honk into a tissue, he continued to weep.

“Nah, I still think that Harriet solved his problems.” Ron shrugged, popping a crisp into his mouth.

As Fred began to argue with Ron louder, chiming in about Hermione, Charlie gave (Y/N) a simple nod, aiming upwards towards the stairs. She got the hint quickly and excused herself.

“Tired of it yet?” asked Charlie, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand gingerly as they walked up the stairs towards his room. Bill had offered to stay in the twins room while (Y/N) was here, letting the newlyweds to have a space to themselves.

“No, not yet,” replied (Y/N). “Though,” She opened the door. “I’m rather pleased at how keenly Fred took to the book.”

“Ah,” He sat on the bed, waving his wand to shut the door once more. “He’s a bit of a romantic, no?”

“Fred? A romantic?” She laughed, pulling on her pajamas. A simple purple nightie, just touching the tops of her knees. “As if. He’s just… more in tune with the details I reckon.”

“Details… sure. Whatever you say, flower.” Charlie began to pull his socks off, eyeing his wife up and down. “You know… I bet the entire lot downstairs is going to be busy for a while.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) mused, flicking the lights off. “Busy, you say?”

Charlie nodded. “With Ron and Fred’s arguing, they sure drown out the sound, no?” He wriggled his eyebrows, climbing under the quilt next to his wife. A gentle hand caressed her thigh lightly.

“Charlie,” (Y/N) sighed, almost annoyed. “As lovely as the thought is,” He began peppering kisses to her neck, slowly down to her collarbone. “We shouldn’t.”

“Love,” more kisses. “It’s not like we’ve never fooled around up here before,” said Charlie, leaving a suckling mark below (Y/N)’s ear. “You love the risk.”

(Y/N) gently pushes Charlie away. “You’ve had too much firewhisky,” said (Y/N), pecking her husband once on the lips. “And I’m not feeling up for it.”

“Flower, I barely had any firewhisky,” he laughed. “Not nearly as much as you drink, well, normally anyhow,” a puzzled look adorned his freckled face. “Why didn’t you drink tonight? It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Are you saying I need to drink to have a good time?” (Y/N) accused, only half offended.

“Of course not! But you do find any and all reasons to have a nice drink at gatherings like these, it's odd, s’all,” He shrugged. “I mean, it’s a holiday! With the family. Our family. What better time to drink?”

“I didn’t feel like it.” (Y/N) mumbled, flopping down under the covers, turning away from her husband.

“I sense that you’re lying, love.” Charlie said, rubbing her arm gently. “You’re my wife…” mewled Charlie, hanging onto the last word longer than usual. “I’m keen to noticing these things.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Indeed,” he quipped. “You have a rather easy tell, too.” Charlie gave a quick side glance in (Y/N)’s direction, smirking. “You tend to push your hair behind your ears, bite your lip and flick your eyes ever so slightly.”

“I do that all the time.” mumbled (Y/N).

“Does that mean? No…” Charlie gasped. “Could you’ve been lying to me the whole time I’ve known you?”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) groaned.

“Okay, fine,” He laughed. “But you’ve been acting off these last couple of weeks. Not drinking, barely getting any sleep—”

“—which I’m trying to do right now, thank you!” (Y/N) quipped, pulling the covers higher.

“Your mood has been real shit lately too. One moment you’re all smiles, the next you want to send me to the dog house just for looking at you.” Charlie sighed. “And I know it’s not,” his voice lowered to a whisper. “‘that time of the month’ yet, because it was last week, right?”

“No, and stop talking about my period like you’re afraid to say it.”

“Huh… It’s normally around the third week of the month, no?” He mumbled. With a gentle shake of his head, he continued. “Flower, all I’m trying to say is that even when you went to the doctor, they didn’t diagnose you with anything, right? I’m just worried something is wrong with you, (Y/N)”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Charlie.”

“Nothing? You run to the loo to empty your lunch like it’s your job,” He laughed. “I’ve never seen you like this. It’s almost as if—”

He stopped.

“Charlie?” (Y/N) turned around to check on her husband. Charlie just sat, staring forward. “Honey?”

“(Y/N),” He continued to stare forward. “Are you…?”

“Darling,” She sat up, gingerly grabbing his hands. “Look at me.”

Charlie’s eyes were brimming with tears, begging to be let go.

“I wanted to tell you tomorrow, a Christmas present,” (Y/N)’s eyes were swimming with matching tears. “But I guess one present early couldn’t hurt, no?”

His eyes flicked back and forth from his wife’s, waiting for any sign of an answer. (Y/N) nodded her head slightly, fighting back the tears. Charlie wrapped his arms around his wife, hugging her tightly, afraid to let her go. “You’re kidding!” A flurry of kisses brimmed (Y/N)’s head, forming a crown upon her temple. “Love! This is a great—no—the best gift you could’ve given me”

“You’re excited?” asked (Y/N), giggling in her husband’s embrace.

“Of course I’m excited,” Charlie pulled away slightly, meeting his brown eyes with (Y/N)’s, darting between the two rapidly. “A baby. Our baby.”

In an instant, their lips met. Softly at first, crescendoing slowly into an intensity as bright as the stars above, burning hot at the sight. The moment was broken only by the parting for air, quickly returning to the fire before. Was it the thrill of their family below? Or the joy of the family growing between the two? Perhaps it was a bit of both.

“How long?” asked Charlie, rubbing (Y/N)’s upper arm gently. “I mean, how far along are you?”

“Remember that Quidditch match your friend Andre invited us to?” (Y/N) giggled.

“I don’t remember much of the match,” Charlie said, scratching his head. “Come to think of it, you pulled me into an empty stall and we—” His cheeks flushed, burning up to the tips of his ears. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed, brushing Charlie’s hair out of his eyes. “Andre’s team won in the end, by the way.” Another laugh.

“Well, I suppose we both scored,” Charlie joined in the laughter. “But that was about two months ago, no?”

“Something like that. I found out last week at the doctor’s office,” said (Y/N). “It was the hardest thing to keep from you! I was so scared that—”

“—that I’d be upset?”

“Something of that sort, yeah,” (Y/N) mumbled. “Of course I was being a real idiot about the whole thing, I realized that the second you figured it out.”

“Love, I come from a family of nine,” Charlie held his breath. “Now, that’s not to say I want to rival my parents in the baby-making contest, but I’ve always wanted a little piece of that happiness. Especially with you.”

“Charlie if you keep saying shit like that I’m going to cry,” (Y/N) warned, choking back tears, a common theme in the past few minutes. “I can’t believe I was even remotely worried.”

“What was there to be worried about?” Charlie asked, stroking (Y/N)’s hair, fingers twisting the ends lightly.

“I’m not sure. We just got married a little over a year ago, after a bloody war had started no less—”

“��to be fair, we got married during the war.”

“I suppose we technically eloped before the war was over.” (Y/N) mumbled, tracing her hand up Charlie’s chest, resting gently.

“We also got married before Bill,” Charlie laughed. “Not an important detail, but one that I like to rub in his face.”

“Besides your points,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “We’re newlyweds! We’re young! I mean, we never even really had the whole ‘baby’ talk before. I was worried we weren’t ready, hardly after a war,” (Y/N) gulped. “I was worried you’d be scared.”

“Love, of course I’m scared. Babies are terrifying,” said Charlie. “With their little hands and tiny feet.” He feigned a grimace, clearly joking. “But you’re right. We are young, but that just means more years of being a family, no?”

“I guess…”

“Now, you’re also right about the ‘baby’ talk. We haven’t really talked about it,” Charlie looked down at (Y/N). “Let’s have it now.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.” (Y/N) giggled.

“Do you ever want to have kids?” Charlie asked, ignoring his wife’s growing laughter.

“Yes.”

“Do you ever want to have a child together?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” Charlie said, his brown eyes meeting (Y/N)’s. “Who cares if it’s a little before we might have planned? I know that we’re going to love the shit out of our child.”

“I know you’re right,” (Y/N) mumbled. “But you don’t have any worries about all of this?”

“Only one,” said Charlie. “I mean, if it’s not a boy to take on the Weasley name, I may consider a divorce.” Charlie hummed, smirking lightly.

“Charlie!” (Y/N) slapped his chest rather firmly, eliciting a slight groan from the redhead. “If you keep joking like that, I may consider divorce first.”

“Flower, you know I could never divorce you,” Charlie laughed, placing a kiss to his wife’s temple. “Besides, with the amount of brothers I have, the Weasley name is rather safe I reckon,” Another kiss to her temple. “Come on, let's get some sleep.” It took only a few fleeting kisses, happy murmurs and mumblings before the couple finally retired for the night.

—

“Well, look at the lovebirds!” George sang from the kitchen table, setting his coffee mug down, eyeing up (Y/N) and Charlie descending from the stairs. “Unusually well rested. Obviously not taking advantage of their own room I see.”

“George,” said Molly, sternly shooting a glance at her son. “Happy Christmas you two.”

“Happy Christmas, mum,” said Charlie, placing a peck to his mother’s cheek. “Happy Christmas George.”

“Yeah, yeah. Christmas or whatever,” George sipped from his mug. “You lot slept in a bit, the rest of the family is outside. You know, completing a family tradition and whatnot. So disgraceful.”

“Ah, but the real disgrace, George, is the fact you also are missing out on the snow angels,” (Y/N) chirped, grabbing a plate of hot breakfast from Molly. “Besides, everyone’s coming in for breakfast soon anyway. No one can resist Molly’s cooking.”

“Oh (Y/N), you humor me,” Molly laughed, opening the window. “Breakfast!” She called out to the rest of her family. One by one, the clan filed into the kitchen, sitting in their respective seats.

“Mum, you outdid yourself again! This food looks delicious.” Bill said, piling a load of eggs onto his plate. He handed the skillet over in Ginny’s direction, eliciting a scowl to the yellow mush beneath her nose.

“Kiss-up.” Ginny mumbled, immediately passing the cooked eggs over to Ron.

The rest of the family began eating, enjoying a rare moment of silence in the Burrow. Only sounds of scraping forks and the occasional burp echoed through the walls. Fred and George were the first to finish their plate, diving into another round of home cooking immediately after. Charlie and (Y/N) sat together, gently hold each other’s hands while they ate, Charlie sitting at the end.

“While you’re all sitting down, I suppose now’s the best time for your gifts!” said Molly, cleaning up the table. She quickly exited the kitchen only to reappear with a rather large bag. “Careful not to get any muck on them, I don’t want to do any washing today.” With a flick of her wand, the colorful stack of wool dispersed evenly among the family, a jumper settling in everyone’s lap.

“Jumpers? Oh boy, what a surprise!” George laughed.

“Really shocked our socks off, mum!” Fred added, unfurling his pile of purple.

“Oh hush,” Molly smirked. “Just go put them on and humor your mother, would you? You seem to find every other opportunity to do so.”

The twins groaned and pulled the fabric over their heads, both of the violet jumpers were adorned with their store’s logo on the front. Bill’s had a niffler, Ron’s had a Chudley Cannons print, Ginny’s had two crossing brooms and Charlie’s had (not surprising anyone) a large white dragon.

“What about yours, love?” said Charlie, elbowing (Y/N) slightly, the light blue wool rubbing against her arm. She turned to face him, the green jumper was decorated with a book and quill, the cover oddly resembling her first book. “Wow! That looks amazing!” He exclaimed. “Mum, how do you keep making these year after year?”

“With patience and a whole lot of love.” Molly smiled.

“Her enchanted knitting needles help too,” Arthur added, brushing biscuit crumbs off his new maroon sweater, ignoring the icy glare from his wife. “Besides, it’s a tradition.”

“A tradition getting harder every year,” Molly sighed. “Thankfully none of you are getting married any time soon, no need to worry about adding any other jumpers to my long list!” She laughed.

“Besides for next year, of course.” said Charlie offhandedly. (Y/N) froze.

“Next year? What’s next year?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, I don’t reckon Fred or George are going to meet anyone by next Christmas.” said Ron.

“Hey!” The twins exclaimed.

“Well…” Charlie looked up, all eyes were on him. A quick glance was given to (Y/N), who shared an equally pale face as him. He shrugged, raising his eyebrows. “You never know when people can meet each other, no? I mean, (Y/N) and I met in a coffee shop of all places!”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) began.

“Hell, we even eloped! Do you know how easy it is to do that?” Charlie continued, nervously bumbling longer sentences. “We got married in like, an hour once we set our sights on it!” He chuckled loudly, trying to drown the attention away from his sweat.

(Y/N) stood up, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Before Charlie continues to blabber like a right idiot,” she said, shutting her husband up successfully. He sighed loudly. “I’m pregnant.” The entire table sat in stunned silence.

“That’s amazing!” Fred shouted, breaking the silence, jumping from his seat. “My best friend is having a baby!” He wrapped (Y/N) in a large hug, gripping her tightly.

“Again, am I chopped liver?” George laughed, running over to join the hug. “A baby! Promise that you’ll name him George! Or Fred. Not terribly picky on that.”

“Boys! You shouldn’t hug (Y/N) that hard,” said Arthur. The twins loosened their grip slightly. “Congratulations you two,” He glanced between the happy couple. “Children are a blessing.”

“Is that why you had seven of them?” Ron asked, getting slapped on the shoulder by his mother.

“Oh (Y/N),” Molly cooed, fighting back her tears. "My first grandchild! We couldn’t be more thrilled for you!” She ran over to Charlie, embracing him in the warmest bearhug she could’ve mustered. “I can’t wait to start knitting their jumper! It’ll be so tiny I won’t mind the extra on the list.”

“How long have you been keeping that secret, Charlie?” Bill asked, smiling at his brother, amused at the kisses their mother was placing on Charlie’s cheek.

“He’s barely known a day,” (Y/N) frowned in Charlie’s direction. He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve only known for a week. It’s still early, but we’re excited.”

“I hope it’s a girl,” Ginny added. “That way we’d finally be on our way to have a boys versus girls Weasley quidditch match!”

“With my quidditch skills and (Y/N)'s creative mind? I’m sure they’d be an amazing quidditch player!” Charlie bubbled in delight. “Though, how young would be too young to get them on a broom?”

“Charlie! We’re not putting our baby on a broom!” (Y/N) scolded. “Besides, they could easily get my quidditch skills.”

“But you don’t have any quidditch skills?” Fred said, cocking his head.

“You can hardly keep yourself up on a broom!” George added.

“Exactly,” (Y/N) hummed, sitting down, a hand resting on her barely existing bump. “I say we stop hypothesizing and projecting onto the baby. Whatever they choose to be and do will be great…” (Y/N) sighed. “Because Charlie and I are the best, so our baby is going to be the best baby ever.”

“Nailed it, darling.” said Charlie, high-fiving his wife.

“You two really deserve each other.” Ron groaned.

“We do,” Charlie hummed, beaming down to his wife. “We really do.”

With the big news out of the way, the Weasley’s enjoyed the rest of their holiday morning, welcoming Percy and Harry home later in the afternoon. Once the two were caught up on gifts and laughter, the family had finally found peace in their holiday. No more big secrets, no more stressing about keeping said secrets. Just a relaxing and calming holiday before the whirlwind of parenthood whisked Charlie and (Y/N) up into a tizzy. But they were ready.

They’re Weasleys, after all.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @crescent-ia , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #hphm #harry potter #weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley x you #dragon boi

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mysteryhackin · 4 years ago

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@stanuary Week 3: Crime

When Mabel and Dipper were looking through Stan’s fake IDs, Stetson Pinefield’s passport had a stamp for London. I always wondered what happened there, because we never hear about it...

“I traveled the whole country- sometimes outside of it...looking for something that would be my big break.”

Ah yes, the bearicorn head! You’re probably wondering how I got that. Well joke’s on you, ‘cause I’m not sayin’ nothin’! I know how this stuff works. You get comfortable talkin’, shootin’ the breeze, tellin’ stories, then bam the next thing you know you’re locked up in a Colombian prison with two guys named Rico and Jorge who think you can’t understand Spanish and hope you die.

...You’re still here. Well, you look like someone who enjoys a good yarn. So howzabout this- I’ll tell you a completely fabricated, definitely didn’t happen, you-can’t-prove-anything story about where it came from, and you take this bearicorn head off my hands. By which I mean you pay full price for it. Up front, right now. Deal?

OK. It was a dark and stormy winter’s night in London, and a good looking young guy with a square jaw and really nice brown hair had just been shoved into the empty visitor’s area of the prison he’d been sent to a few weeks earlier...

The sound of the door opening made the young man look up to see a not unattractive woman in a dress suit walk up to him. “Stetson Pinefield?” she asked.

The young man leaned forward in his chair, giving the woman a smirk. “That’s what it says on the records.”

A small smile played on the woman’s face. “Quite. I see you’re in here for one count of breaking and entering.”

“Hm.” the young man grunted noncommittally, his smile disappearing.

“Although there seem to be several unproven incidents of the same thing...”

The man wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“And you also match the description of a conman who fleeced many citizens a few months ago…”

“What are you, a cop?” he asked, annoyed, realizing too late that the sentence wasn’t as clever as it usually was when it was said in a prison.

“Worse-” the woman said, and pulled out an MI5 badge.

“Ya gotta be kiddin’ me,” the man muttered, leaning his head back in exasperation. Then he paused, and looked across the table. “So, uh, what’s MI5?”

“MI5 is responsible for protecting the UK, its citizens and interests, at home and overseas, against threats to national security.” the woman said calmly, putting her badge back in her coat.

“Oh.”

“Right. Anyway,” the woman continued briskly. “I have an offer for you, Stetson. Or should I say Stanley?”

Stanley’s eyes grew wide. “How do ya know my-” he shook his head. “What kind of offer?”

“There’s a little project my department has, and with your breaking and entering skills, you’re just the man for the job.”

“What skills?” Stanley huffed. “I got caught.”

“Only because your team sold you out,” the woman said, almost gently. “As I mentioned, there seem to be quite a few projects you got away with.”

“I ain’t saying nothin’,” Stanley answered. “Besides, I don’t work with others. I learned my lesson quick.”

“You can trust us, Stanley,” the woman said. “We’re the good guys.”

Stanley snorted. “Sure. And it’s Stan, by the way.”

“Stan. Lovely. You can call me Emma.” She extended a hand but was met with Stan’s sullen glare. She withdrew her hand. “I did try asking nicely. But now I must tell you- help us or we’ll have no choice but to not only keep you in prison, but also extend your stay for the other incidents, the cons, and entering the country under a false identity.”

Stan stared at her for a moment, mouth slightly open in shock. “You’re not kidding.” he finally said.

Emma smiled. “I am not.”

Stan sighed theatrically, then he rallied and gave Emma a big grin. “All right. Sign me up. Heh.”

And so it was that the handsome young man found himself out of prison and on a heist in London. A few heists, actually. Emma told him that MI5 was trackin’ down this criminal organization called the Dark Hand, and needed Stan to steal specific objects before the Dark Hand could get to them. Emma acted as his handler, you know, the person who tells him where to go and what to steal, occasionally helping him on missions... that kind of stuff.

Turned out, Stan was good at what he did. He got the goods every time. And every time he’d hand them to Emma, then Emma would hand them over to MI5, then come back with another assignment. They got along well, and for the first time in a while Stan felt like he actually found his calling. It was a good coupla months.

Until one fateful day...

Stan stood outside the MI5 building in a long coat and three piece suit Emma had provided him, holding a black briefcase in one hand and nervously adjusting his tie with the other. It was snowing and he was wishing he had brought an umbrella like everyone else around him seemed to have done.

“You clean up nicely,” a familiar voice called out to him, and he turned around to see Emma approach him, wearing a long black coat, a blue cocktail dress peeking through.

“Not so bad yourself, kid,” Stan gave her a lopsided grin and held out an arm.

“You know I’m a few years older than you Stan…I’m not a kid.” Emma replied with a smile.

Stan shrugged. “Sorry, boss. It’s an American thing. Don’t worry about it.”

Emma laughed. “You know, I wasn’t sure about you at first. But I’m honestly glad we picked you to help with this operation. I hope we’ll be able to work together in the future.”

“Say the word and I’m there.” Stan winked at her, and they walked over to a main street to get a cab.

Stan tried to act cool as they walked into the old manor house for the party, but he was having a difficult time. The house was huge, and old, and had tapestries, suits of armor, full sized taxidermy displays. There were party lights strung across the balconies overlooking the grand hall, adding extra sparkle to the jewels glistening on the necks, ears, and fingers of nearly every woman in the room. There was laughter and music, and the air practically buzzed with excitement.

A waiter carrying a tray of appetizers walked by, and Stan promptly took four from the plate.

“You weren’t kidding when you said I’d like this one,” he said to Emma with a full mouth. Then he swallowed. “But I still don’t get why we hafta do this with all these people around.”

“It’s the best time,” Emma answered coolly in a quiet voice. “You’re already in the place, security is rather busy, and it’s easy to explain that things were all just a big misunderstanding if you get caught.”

Stan nodded. “Yeah… that’s really good.” he grinned. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

Emma responded with a smile. “Ready?”

“I was born ready.” Stan grinned, adjusting his grip on the briefcase.

“Then follow me, Mr. Pines.”

Emma led them to a room on the other side of the grand hall, then up some stairs lined with worn carpet. The twists and turns in the darker halls had Stan a little dizzy, but he was able to keep a good sense of where they were relative to the grand hall. Finally they reached a wooden door that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a castle, and Emma slowly tried to open it. Locked. “I believe this is your area,” she turned to Stan with a small smile.

Stan put the briefcase down and knelt down to open it, removing a pair of black gloves and a roll of fabric, which he swiftly unspooled to reveal a set of delicate metal objects. He moved so the lock was at eye level, studied it for a moment, and then selected a few of the objects, carefully inserting them into the lock.

In under a minute he heard a click, and a grin spread over his face.

“That’s a new record,” he said proudly, closing his briefcase and standing up. “Ladies first,” he said.

Emma slowly pushed open the door, carefully walked through, and then poked her head back into the hallway. “Have a look,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

Stan warily went through the door to find himself on a balcony overlooking what appeared to be an enormous library. The chandeliers were not lit, but a roaring fire in the huge fireplace gave enough light to see the rows and rows of books, a few tables, several chairs, a harp, and more taxidermy.

As if that wasn’t impressive enough, several glass cases lined the room, filled with crowns, carved objects, and other items that were definitely worth a pretty penny.

All the curse words Stan knew created a traffic jam in his brain, and the only thing that escaped was a phrase he had used as a kid. “Hot Belgian Waffles,” he breathed.

Emma chuckled softly. “Impressive, isn’t it? The last item the Dark Hand is looking for is in this room.”

“What is it?” Stan asked quietly, still taking it in.

“That bear’s head over the fireplace.”

Stan stopped. “Are you kidding me?” he hissed. “All this other stuff, and you want me to get that?”

Emma shrugged, apparently biting down a laugh. “Stan, I’m just doing what the analysts tell me. I can always ask after we turn it in.”

Stan stared at the library and all its treasures again. “Nah. It doesn’t matter.” He rolled his neck and once more knelt down with his briefcase. “I take it we’re up here ‘cause there’s something wrong with gettin’ in on the ground floor?”

“The doors are locked with a special combination dial on the outside. Like a safe. But what is really worrisome is the floor is full of pressure sensitive panels- if someone walks in that isn’t supposed to be there, an alarm will go off and a mechanism will lock the door from the outside, trapping that person inside until the authorities come.”

Stan whistled softly. “OK.” He studied the library and balcony for a bit, then took a rope out of his briefcase. “You up for helpin’ a bit?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Emma replied, taking gloves out of her handbag.

Stan grinned and began tying the rope in complicated patterns around the spindles in the balcony, then tied a couple of interesting knots around his waist with a few carabiners, making it so part of the rope could pull him up or let him down without it affecting the way it was holding him. “All right. This should give you enough leverage to pull me back and forth without too much strain. I’m gonna climb down the fireplace, grab that stupid bear’s head, and come on back to you. Then you pull me up and we get outta here- maybe sneak in a dance or two before we go.”

Emma laughed softly. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner,” she said.

Stan gave her a wicked grin, climbed over the balcony, and used the chimney to rappel down to the bear’s head.

It was heavier than he’d thought it would be, but he clipped his rope and used both hands to pry it off the chimney. “Don’t look at me like that, pal,” he said to the bear with a chuckle. “I’m takin’ you to a better place.” He tugged at the rope. “Pull me up, boss, I got it!”

He handed her the bear’s head as he climbed over the balcony once again, and undid the rope from his waist. “Hey Ems, could you hand me my briefcase?”

“Sure,” Emma said, picking it up and walking towards him. “And Stan?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Thanks for everything.” she shoved the briefcase hard at Stan, causing him to lose his balance and flip backwards over the balcony.

The briefcase hit the ground with a thud, but Stan had grabbed on to the spindles of the balcony, and pulled himself up with a confused look on his face, breathing heavily with exertion and a sudden panic at the thought of falling.

“Emma, what-” he stopped as he saw the glint in Emma’s eyes.

“What am I doing?” she asked softly. “Setting up a patsy.”

“A pat- but MI5 wouldn’t-”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Emma said, walking up to him and still holding the bear’s head. “They also wouldn’t pay me enough for everything I do. So I have to set up some projects on the side. And my job is full of brilliant little tools to help me with my projects. Locations of artifacts I want, talent I can hire, leverage I can use… and at the end of the day, I get richer, my hires take the fall, and no one is the wiser.” Then she swung the bear’s head towards Stan to push him off-

Stan grabbed the taxidermied animal to soften the blow, but lost his balance, falling backward, hearing Emma’s shout of “No!” as the bear’s head flew up into the air. For a few brief moments there was only terrifying oblivion, then Stan landed on his back into the middle of the library, all the wind knocked out of him.

And the alarms started going off.

Emma loudly let out a frustrated yell, and Stan heard her run through the wooden door as he tried to get his breath back. His brain was foggy; the only thing he could think of was how he never wanted to fall again, never wanted to be that high up again, when he realized the alarms had stopped and the noise he was hearing instead was the sound of angry voices on the other side of the main door.

He got up, looking around for a way out, when he saw the bear’s head had landed on top of a taxidermied rhinoceros, the rhino’s horn having torn perfectly through the center of the bear’s head. “Heh,” Stan said through his brain fog, “It looks like the bear version of a unicorn…” he let out a punch-drunk laugh. “A bearicorn… a unibear?”

The sound of metal unlocking brought Stan back to earth, and he grabbed his briefcase and then, as an afterthought, rushed over to the bear head. If Emma had wanted it so badly, he wasn’t going to leave it behind. It was wedged pretty tightly on the horn, so finally Stan just broke it off and held it to his chest, running towards the door and flattening himself against the wall.

The door opened to reveal three security guards, who cautiously crept into the library…

And Stan hit the closest one upside the head with his briefcase and did what he did best- ran for his life into the snowy woods.

“Suckers!” he couldn’t help calling behind him, then picked up speed as he realized how close they were.

A few hours later he boarded the first international flight out of there, ignoring the stares of his fellow passengers. So what if they’d never seen a disheveled man in a nice suit holding a briefcase and a bear’s head with a horn stuck to it? He didn’t care what they thought, he was rich. Y’see, the bear head was full of cash- a hundred thousand British pounds, to be exact. Stan had no idea why, but he wasn’t going to question his luck at this point. One thing he knew, he was never going back to London again. Maybe his next stop should be someplace warm, tropical, relaxing. Someplace like… Colombia.

What, you didn’t like the story? You don’t think the bear’s head would land perfectly on the rhino like that? Or that he would carry an awkward artifact while he was being chased? Or that Emma would just let him go? Well too bad for you, kid. That’s not my problem. You asked for a story, I gave you a story, and we don’t do refunds. Now get outta here… unless you wanna buy somethin’ else.

In that case, have I got another story for you...

#stanuary #gravity falls #Stanley pines #Stetson Pinefield #mine #fanfic

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dottiechan · 3 years ago

Text

Tempest (Pt. 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Read on AO3

Pairing: Ava Du Mortain x f!Detective

Wordcount: 4048

Warnings: mourning, mentions of death and torture, smoking

Summary: The private detective must work through the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Ava - quite literally, as she embarks on solving her greatest mystery yet. But she is not the only one who's been busy...

A/N: This chapter is a rather long one as there's much to unpack at this point of the story, and there is much to explain. Sorry for the long wait, and thanks for being so patient and supportive of me!

The Private Detective’s Office, London, 1898

5 months after Ava’s disappearance

The key turns in the lock with ease. The door creaks as it gives way to the dark office. The lights flicker in the corridor outside, and the entrance gapes like a mouth ready to swallow her whole.

She steps inside, unaware of her fingers skittering across the glass pane that has the name of her detective agency painted on it. Some have great bloodlines to look back on, and nobles and kings to proudly call their ancestors. Her legacy is this stuffy little office, her sigil is a hand painted business logo. But her ancestor - her father - was a warrior too, noble of heart, even if not of blood.

She hangs her coat and hat, and proceeds to smooth down her hair before locking the door and switching on the lights. The old pieces of furniture that would have been regarded fashionable 20 years ago are dimly illuminated, and the sight of them makes her heart ache. They belonged to her late father, and in a way he lives on through them. The dent in the cushion of his chair where he always used to sit, the scuff marks on his desk he carelessly carved into the polished surface with books and folders, the medical and law tomes he hoarded lining the bookshelves that hug the dark green walls... As a child, she was afraid of coming here in the evenings - something they often did after her mother passed away and her father tried his best to raise her alone. The heavy nailhead leather armchairs looked like hunched monsters in the dark, the looming mahogany desk with its long curving legs resembled a giant spider, and the serious wallpaper enveloped this macabre scene like some sinister forest. “The real monsters are in here, my darling,” her father would ruffle her hair affectionately, pointing at the files he came to pick up.

It is late, but the office no longer feels scary. Her rational mind knows she should have gone home to her empty bed and her unread books and the cold supper awaiting her. And yet she’s here because hardly anything matters anymore. Because no place ever really feels like home ever since her father left. Well, her small house felt like home for a while when she was still here. But she left as well, and with her she took the last tattered shreds of joy the detective had somehow managed to cling to. She is submerged in saturnine reticence now, and ironically it helps her stay focused, even though it makes her more and more like the person she tried to thaw out. More and more like Ava.

One should only embrace the iciness of a statue if they’re willing to risk turning into marble themselves.

The Commissioner would be lucky to have a detective such as myself, she thinks bitterly as she glances down at the neatly kept files piled on her desk. Most are petty cases, even she has to admit - cheating husbands, unanswered invitations and letters, and the likes. But she takes all the work she can, and she prides herself on her ability to solve them with the proficiency of a man. Ava used to praise her for that. Now she whispers praises to herself even if the words turn sour in her mouth, because she will not let anyone ruin her. She will not. (Even though Ava has, because the world feels different without her in it.)

Her sudden disappearance left her on the precipice of panic at first. Ava, along with her partner Nate, simply vanished into thin air as if they never even existed at all, as if they were a pleasant reverie she used to lull herself to sleep at night. No trace, no item that belonged to them was left behind. If not for the spare key to her house being gone - the one she gave to Ava - she wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between reality and her mad suspicions. But oh, she was here. She was. Missing her is a malady burrowed in her heart, but it is also the testament of her existence.

She opens the file on top, and hums in bitter satisfaction. Right. The aching of her heart isn’t the only testament anymore. It took her months, but she’s finally one step closer to the solution, planting her foot firmly and holding her crumbling sanity together with a determination she didn’t know she had. Ava was probably never meant to be in the background of a photograph taken during the opening night of the National Gallery of British Art.

But she was. And it really only takes one mistake.

The private detective picks up the photograph gingerly, giving herself one second to lose herself in the whirlwind of emotions Ava’s angular silhouette awakens in her.

One step closer.

She leans back in her chair, her gaze gliding over the photograph and landing on her personal little project. The blackboard is filled with dates, locations and places with a map pinned to the middle of it - by now, it is practically a blueprint of Ava’s and Nate’s every activity over the past two years. The deeper she digs, the more unknowns she unearths about the people she once thought she knew.

But there’s still time to get to know them - first impressions are overrated anyway.

Train station, Wayhaven, 1899

7 months after Ava’s disappearance

January quickly set to work and changed the countryside. It swooped down from the heavens and gently buried the forests and the hills under a heavy blanket of snow, concealing the detective’s childhood home from her as she exits the train, the handle of her heavy bag already digging into her gloved fingers. The shapes are still visible though underneath all the snow and ice - she sees the old station with the crumbling roof, the road leading into town, the bell tower of the small church peeking out just above the treeline. She recognises them all, though she sorely wishes she didn’t.

Because with the recognition comes the inevitable sting of her memories. Faces emerge in her conscious she hasn’t seen in years. The kindness of her mother’s eyes and the curve of his father’s lips, both lost forever now, never to be seen again, cutting deeper than a knife ever could.

An old woman is prating about her insufferable nephew, a business man is constantly checking his pocket watch with a disdainful look from across the station, three young women gossip, a man is rubbing his hands together in an effort to stimulate his circulation in the cold weather. The detective tunes out the comfortable commotion of the small town station, imagining she is still in London and not here. Anywhere but here. People brush past her, the train whistles and whirs to motion, and before she knows it, she is alone, paralysed in one spot, snowflakes catching softly on her fetching ensemble of a royal blue travelling dress and matching hat.

She takes a shaky breath, almost already on the verge of tears.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

No.

“Of course,” she turns with a slight smile. “Just admiring the view. I used to live here.”

“Ah, then the gossip about you was true,” the man nods, his eyes glinting intelligently under his bushy brows. There’s an apologetic smile sitting on his lips, and a twinge of regret spoiling the beauty of his otherwise handsome square jaw and bold features. “I apologise, I couldn’t help but overhear some women on the train talking about your father. About you.”

“I didn’t know our name carried such weight,” the detective admits cautiously, one hand reaching up to fix her hat self-consciously. The man seems to notice the way her fingers linger over the hat pin, and he almost cracks a grin. It would be a highly inappropriate moment to joke, and besides, he’d rather befriend this interesting person than anger her to a point where he’d end up being skewered by the hat pin in question. After all, her friendship and assistance is why he’s here.

“Your father served in India with Sir Edward Bardford, the current Police Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police,” he adds gently. “You were betrothed to Montagu Edward Bradford.”

“How do you know about that?” the woman asks, her eyes widened by shock as she takes a step closer to him.

“Who didn’t Montagu tell?”

The strained grin the stranger allows himself seems to put her momentarily at ease. Montagu did tell everyone, God rest his soul. In a way, she could never really begrudge him for the betrothal - it was their fathers’ scheming, even if Montagu really didn’t seem to mind. She always wanted a way out, but she never wished for his death. He was in India when it had happened, and she was in London. In a way, even 9 years after, it feels surreal. She never saw the body. For years afterwards, she sincerely thought he would turn up one day unexpectedly as if nothing had happened.

He never did.

“How awfully rude of me to not even introduce myself!” he exclaims suddenly, sheepishly sticking out his hand. “Dr Van Helsing. Abraham Van Helsing.”

“I believe Mont had spoken about you,” she nods as she shakes his hand, deliberately squeezing his fingers with more force than a mere handshake would warrant. Yet another trick she learned from Ava.

“I hope so. We were... we were quite close. I know it’s been a while since he...” Van Helsing pauses as he withdraws his hand and waves it in the air before drawing it up to his ginger curls. “Please accept deepest my condolences.”

“Thank you, Dr Van Helsing.”

Her tone signals the end of the conversation, and she nods her head stiffly before turning. She knew coming back here would unearth the loss of her parents, but she is not ready to speak of Montagu yet. She bared her soul once regarding the matter, and only to one person, but she will not repeat the experience again. As liberating as it had been to tell Ava everything, she wishes to leave this heartache and guilt where it belongs - in the past.

“Please wait. We got off on the wrong foot! I didn’t come here to ask you personal questions - in fact, it is a disappearance that I was hoping to discuss with you.”

“You are a physician, not an inspector, correct?” she asks over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down her steps as she strides towards an unclaimed hansom.

“Yes, but-”

“Are you here to hire me?”

“No-”

“Then we have nothing to talk about, Dr Van Helsing. Good day.”

The driver, smelling a wealthy client who’s just arrived from London, clambers down from his seat quickly to open the door for her to get in. Just before she could disappear inside, the physician speaks again.

“I’m trying to find Miss Ava Du Mortain and Mr Nathaniel Sewell. I was hoping we could help each other out, but more importantly, I was hoping to warn you.”

“Warn me?” the detective pauses, looking back at Van Helsing with genuine shock on her prepossessing features.

“They’re not who you think they are - what you think they are.”

There’s a stretch of silence between them as her eyes assess the tall, lanky man as he stands just before the hansom, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his breath fogging in the chill air as he looks back at her expectantly. The nerve on this man alone is making the private detective want to leave him high and dry in the snow, but her insides twist and her pulse quickens at the mention of Ava’s name. She’s all but given up hope - for months now, she could find nothing regarding the woman and her partner, or the Agency they claimed to work for. She knows virtually nothing about this man, but her need to find Ava outweighs her better judgement.

“Are you hungry, Dr Van Helsing?” she asks, scooting further down the seat to make room for the man.

“Is eating and working on disappearance cases simultaneously a habit of yours, Miss?” the physician asks as he climbs in next to her.

“And here I was trying to be nice. I suppose I will not offer to pay for your lunch then.”

“I take it all back! I am positively famished.”

Meanwhile, across the train station

Lucille Licht twirls her cane, lips pressed into a disdainful frown. Cities at least have crowds upon crowds of people to distract her, but small towns such as Wayhaven hold no entertainment value whatsoever. She isn’t here on pleasant business anyway, she thinks to herself as she sighs, pulling her fur coat tighter around the expensive suit she’s wearing. No, she is here on ghastly business indeed, even by demon standards. But the prophecy was clear - though irritatingly vague too, no doubt to account for the rather large margin of error witches have these days in their prophecies. They’re more lawyers than soothsayers by now, their profession diluted by those who hunger for nothing but profit and security, and who are willing to sacrifice quality for those two aforementioned gains. Lucille finds sordid business such as this distasteful, even in her line of work. Falling from grace is one thing, but living in the Agency’s ever growing shadow is no excuse not to have honour among thieves. Or rogues. Or both, when it comes to the social circles she frequents.

A small voice in the back of her head whispers sadly, poisoning the faux assuredness she’s lulled herself into on the train. She’s just like I was, in a strange way. Before it all happened. And now I’m about to do the same horrible things to her that were done to me.

But the private detective is the one she’s been waiting for. She has to be. It all fits - the dead father, the career, the place where she was born. Lucille can’t smell anything strange about her blood yet, but she is sure she can bring about the power that was promised to reside in her veins. She has her ways, and her old magic, and her knife. And most importantly, her determination.

It was centuries ago, when she was stripped and bound and the curse was carved into her flesh. Strange, how vividly one can remember a single terrible moment, even centuries later. Even though the ancient magic rendered her undead, she can still feel the searing pain all over her body, red lines raging like fire in the form of symbols and Echolian text. It made her immortal, but it also bound her to her creator. He is the reason why she’s on the hunt. Why she is desperate to gain power beyond what she could achieve alone. Even as a human, as a meagre farmer’s child, she was roaming the fields of her father as she pleased. She was free. It was so long ago that she can’t even remember the name her parents gave her, but her freedom she remembers.

And nobody enslaves Lucille Licht and gets away with it.

Her slow burn vendetta must be coming to an end soon. There’s only so much of the supernatural underworld she can bring under her control - what she has will have to suffice. She already runs a widespread rogue organisation, with its key leadership positions held by her loyal Daughters, as she eloquently calls the women she’s bound to her service over the centuries the same way she was bound once. A necessary evil. Pawns in the game she plays with the Ancient One. There is nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure her victory in the coming battle. I will not be outwitted again by that Echolian bastard, she thinks, whacking away at a nearby bush with her cane. Specks of snow and ice glitter where her hits land. And yet she always finds herself hesitating before turning another human.

The abhorred feeling of helplessness always comes creeping back. As well as the pain, and the panic of thinking your life is about to end. She has to push it all down. Grit her teeth and get it over with. Months of preparation leading up to the final act that barely lasts ten minutes. And then you wait, and 3 days later their pain and mortality will be but a distant memory.

But she’s slipping. She no longer only hesitates before, now the intrusive self-doubt catches up to her after the rituals too. The Ancient One is still the centre of her nightmares, but the dream has changed. She is no longer the helpless little lamb brought to the slaughter. She is one with the Ancient One, his hand is hers too as it raises the knife, their voices merging together as they chant the same curse together.

She knew this victory would cost her everything. But she never imagined the real price to pay would be stepping up to fill the void the Ancient One’s death will create.

Lucille never wanted to be like him. She only ever wanted to kill him. But it seems those two things are one and the same.

She awakens from her thoughts when the man joins the private detective in the hansom. An annoying little man, that Dr Van Helsing is, though harmless in the grand scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that he’s taken care of a Transylvanian rogue vampire with his entourage, it would take far more to stop her plans now. Lucille focuses on the woman instead, letting her will force itself into her mind. All too easy, she raises her eyebrows in an unimpressed fashion as she flicks through her thoughts as if she were reading the latest issue of The Times. She thought she would be more difficult to read. To control. But alas, she is just like everyone else, aside from the love that seems to seep out of her every thought for none other than Agent Du Mortain.

She grins, remembering her failed attempt at getting to the private detective earlier. She’s learned several invaluable lessons in those two years. One, you can’t trust dark elf mercenaries, no matter how much you pay them. Two, it’s better to divert the attention of the Agency first before you try to kidnap someone who has important connections in the London Metropolitan Police. Three, love makes people do really, really stupid things.

Thankfully, Lucille Licht is a smart woman, and an even better strategist - not to mention a quite powerful demon with telepathic abilities and her boot firmly planted on the supernatural underground’s neck - and this time, she has learned from all three of her mistakes. This time, there will be no Agent Du Mortain rushing to the rescue. (But that doesn’t mean she can’t use her name as bait, yes?)

Cemetery, Wayhaven, 1900

1 year and 8 months after Ava’s disappearance

He doesn’t appreciate being jerked around the way he has been lately, but he isn’t a man to grumble too much either. He was closest to the backwater little town, he gets to check out the possible supernatural case. Everyone draws the short straw sometimes, and he’s learned to cope with it. He has certainly lived long enough to do so.

The wind shifts, and suddenly Agent Fuller’s nostrils are invaded by the stench of magic. Things finally start looking up for him, and that thought alone is enough to make him pick up his pace, excitement coursing through his body. He lights a cigarette to conceal the smirk threatening to overtake his lips when he sees the pallid looks of the constables as they pass him by. One stops him to ask what his business is out here, but the Agency has already notified the meagre Wayhaven police force, and he is soon on his way again to the centre of the commotion. Cemetery of the commotion would be a more accurate description though - the little town was as dead in the mid-February frost as a place could get, and aside from the bored stationmaster who gave him directions, these men are the first living beings he’s encountered since his arrival.

“Name’s Agent Fuller. What can you tell me about the crime scene, constable?” Fuller asks as he exhales a lungful of smoke, turning to the least disturbed looking man surveying the scene.

“Welcome to the middle of nowhere, sir. Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

A handshake and a suppressed grin later Fuller follows the young man down a row of tombs. They take a sharp turn to the left, and immediately it is clear why he was called here. The sight is confirmation enough, but the smell of potent and ancient magic is the real giveaway.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a walker,” Fuller snorts as he crouches down, picking up a piece of the crumbled marble.

“The poor woman was buried only 3 days ago,” the constable mutters, rubbing his hands together before bringing them to his lips and blowing hot air onto them, desperately attempting to revitalise his frozen fingers. “Who could do such a monstrous thing?”

“Indeed, who could...” the agent mutters, too focused to really pay attention to the human on his right. The tomb was torn open, the coffin deserted, the body missing. It coincides with many reports made over the centuries - it’s unfortunately not rare for the dead to be taken and repurposed again for magic, but this particular pattern is characteristic of demonic rogues having too much time on their necromantic little hands. He will need to consult a few colleagues to confirm it, but the 3 days and the apparent magic hanging in the air is all the evidence he needs right now.

He stands, the lapels of his dark coat flapping in the chilly wind ominously. There’s a page typed up about the busy life of his missing body in his pocket, crumpled around the edges from being handled carelessly, but he takes it out to skim over it again. That’s when he spots the little detail about the private detective’s history with the Agency that he seemed to have missed the first time around.

‘1896-1898: under Agency protection

Threat: classified

Agents on the case: A. Du Mortain, N. Sewell’

The Agency gossips like there’s no tomorrow, and ever since Lady Ashbury’s return to the main facility, the gossip about the ‘Ice Queen’ and her pet detective have been the most fashionable thing to blabber on about. And since Fuller has been to the scene, it will be him who will have to provide all the answers when Du Mortain comes with her demanding questions, no doubt breaking down doors in the process as it is in her nature. Fuller is by no means a man who shies away from conflict or hard work, but he’s never been particularly good with emotions. Explaining to a lovesick elder vampire that her alleged lover is now very dead, and also quite probably the plaything of a very bored and elusive demon who likes to play with necromancy is not a task he would gladly carry out.

“Well, shit.”

Fuller shoves the page back into his pocket and sighs. He should retire and buy a house in the wilderness. Get a cat. Maybe try some cocaine - he once saw Heinrich Quincke use it for spinal anaesthesia before one of his surgeries, and have been meaning to try it out ever since. But he does none of those things - he never does.

He walks back the way he came, trying to prepare himself for the most awkward conversation of the century.

Needless to say, he couldn’t prepare himself for what was to come. But for once, he couldn’t feel mad about a messy situations. He just felt a little more hollow afterwards. And then he got another case as this one was closed and the woman was declared dead once more. And he moved on.

But, like with all his cases ending in death, he never forgot.

#dottiechan writes #ava du mortain x detective #a du mortain x detective #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc detective #ava du mortain #a du mortain #a lot to unpack here #i know a lot might still appear strange but i promise it will all make sense soon haha

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

7 Secrets <pt. 11>

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: whole lot of uwu that’s what

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

I just...no words. I’ve been wanting to get to this point for a hot minute now, so I’m glad we’ve made it. No, this isn’t quite the end. Although we’re getting there. *cue tears* Have a happy halloween this weekend! <3

By the time we make it back to the house it’s nearly evening, seeing as Jin decided to take a detour and get lost. Kyung-soon didn’t mind, she took the opportunity to re-listen to Seventeen’s new album. And then listen to it again.

We’re nearly there when we get a call from Taehyung. Jin puts it on the car speakerphone.

“Hyung! Where are you?”

“We’ve been lost, that’s where-” Jin cuts Kyung-soon off with glare.

“We were hiking and enjoying the island. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Are you guys getting ready to eat?”

As if on cue my stomach growls. Our last meal was this morning, and the granola bars have only held up for so long.

“Yeah, we’re finishing up with the food now. Guess what we’re doing tonight, though?”

A few voices can be heard in the background. It sounds like utter chaos at the house. The sound of it brings a smile to my face.

“What? What are we doing?”

“Production team just finished editing the final episode! We’re going to project it on the side of the house and watch it!”

I nearly choke, Kyung-soon turning around and staring at me in horror. Namjoon chuckles, patting me on the back while I recover.

“That was...fast.” I mumble. The production crew must have been working overtime in order to finish up the final episode so we could watch it on our trip.

Kyung-soon is in the middle of involuntarily cringing. “Oh no, this is going to be horrible. So cringey.”

I nod in agreement, Jin reaching over to grab Kyung-soon’s hand. The houses pop up in the distance - we’re almost there.

“Just pretend that it’s somebody else,” Jin tries to reassure his soulmate. “I promise, it’s really not bad. We were thoroughly entertained.” He grins at Namjoon through the rear-view mirror.

“Yeah, and besides, you guys have seen plenty of weird content from us. Consider this an even playing field.” Namjoon adds.

“Ok, I’ll see you - huh? Oh, Ichika says hi. Alright, see you in a second.” Taehyung cuts the call.

↔

The side of the boys’ house has turned into a temporary movie screen. Taehyung is in the process of popping popcorn while Jungkook and Jimin are giving a detailed overview of three years worth of episodes.

I think they’ve forgotten that we were very much a part of those three years. After all, it is a documentary about us.

Aera sits beside Minsuh, the two of them grinning like cheshire cats at their soulmates. They look like they’re thinking the same thing that I am.

“Yah, so where did the last episode leave off?” Aera questions, raising her eyebrows at Jimin.

“What, you don’t remember what happened two weeks ago?” Himari asks, chuckling.

Aera shrugs her shoulders. “It’s been a busy week for all of us, I can hardly remember what happened two days ago.”

Namjoon emerges from the house, a couple of blankets in hand. His eyes scan the small crowd before landing on me where I stand beside Seohyun. I’ve been trying to get a feel for how her and Yoongi’s conversation went earlier, but I don’t dare ask anything too direct with Yoongi right there. He holds her hand, looking content as she explains how she tried and failed at painting.

“Where did the last episode leave off, Joon-ah?” Hoseok asks when Jimin and Jungkook have a hard time remembering the finer details. Namjoon is in the process of spreading a blanket out on the ground, motioning for me to come over.

“Umm…” He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Aera had just pitched her new designs, and everybody made dinner for her when she got home. Then they were just getting Beth’s room ready for her to come back.”

Aera blinks as though just remembering that she has an actual job. A job she’s really, really good at.

“I can’t believe you forgot about that!” Aera feigns offense and Jimin freezes in his spot, eyes wide. “That’s my whole career we’re talking about, Jimin!”

Jungkook gives his friend a pat on the shoulder before walking over to plop into the seat beside Minsuh.

“I-I remember it now…” Jimin pouts, looking at his soulmate with puppy eyes. Aera glares at him, never one to give in easily. In fact, Aera is the fiercest when it comes to these kinds of things.

If I remember correctly, I’ve heard the boys state on several occasions that Jimin is absolutely terrifying when he’s mad.

“Hey,” Namjoon grabs my attention from the show up front. “Wanna sit? I got us an extra blanket for if we get cold.”

“Perfect.” I settle down on the blanket, laughing as Jimin tries his best to escape Aera’s wrath. She’s currently moving his chair to the opposite end, as far away from her as possible.

Minsuh turns around to look at me, her eyebrows wiggling mischievously. “Are you ready for this cringefest?”

Namjoon chuckles, settling down beside me. The butterflies in my stomach kick things up into high gear just from sitting beside him. He checks the time on his phone, his new background pulling my attention away for a moment.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I sigh. Namjoon places a comforting hand on my knee, smiling at me when he realizes that I’m looking at his lock screen.

“It really is that bad usually. I swear.” I roll my eyes, knowing a lie when I hear one. “Hey,” he nudges me. “Let’s see your new phone background.”

I excitedly fish my phone out of my pocket, already chuckling at the thought of our candid photo. Showing it to Namjoon, Minsuh and Jungkook wander over to see what we’re laughing about.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” Minsuh gushes, laughing at me. “I’m guessing you learned today that Beth is terrified of heights?”

Namjoon nods, shooting me a pitiful look. “I sure did. I’m pretty sure she bruised one of my ribs in the process.”

Jungkook proceeds to ask Namjoon about the hike, sounding like he wants to venture out there tomorrow. Jin and Kyung-soon come back out with Tae and Ichika, all of them carrying a couple of bowls each filled to the brim with popcorn.

“Movie time!” Jimin shouts from where he and Aera disappeared around the house. A moment later he appears with his chair in one hand and lugging a disgruntled Aera along with the other.

As soon as all the popcorn is distributed Yoongi flips on the projector from the back. A moment later the song “Psycho” by RedVelvet blasts through the speakers, and the episode begins.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe they actually made that the theme song!” Seohyun shouts, already laughing as she and Minsuh appear on screen. Little title cards appear above their heads from where they study in the library, lost in their textbooks. I grin, all of this appearing a little surreal.

“I can’t believe we actually have a theme song!” Himari says. She’s the next one in the opening credits, trying and failing to flip a pancake. “Oh, come on, that’s how they introduce me?” Hoseok laughs beside her, his eyes darting from the screen back to his soulmate.

Next is Ichika, and I notice Taehyung scooting a little closer to her and she hides behind her hands. She’s opening the door to the apartment, her lopsided smile greeting the cameraman as she invites the cameras inside.

“This is the best part!” Jimin shouts.

The cameras follow Ichika inside the apartment and catch their next victim for the opening credits: Aera.

She’s clearly in a rush, probably running late for work. Careening down the stairs she freezes once she sees the camera, quickly pushing her hair out of her face as she waves before rushing out the door.

“See, told you it was the best part,” Jimin mumbles, Aera dissolving into a fit of giggles beside him.

Namjoon scoots closer, adjusting so that his right shoulder is just behind me. “Ready for the next part?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

Kyung-soon and I appear on screen, and I can hear my friend groaning from where she sits with Jin. We share a look across the way.

We’re sitting on the couch in the living room, locked in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. Kyung-soon wins, and she throws her hands up in triumph right as our title cards appear. I get up wordlessly, walking straight out the door.

Despite how strange it is to be watching the documentary after all this time, I find myself shaking with laughter. Maybe we are kind of entertaining to watch, after all.

“Do you remember what we were playing for?” Kyung-soon asks me.

“I think it was over who had to call the takeout place.”

She laughs, returning her attention to the screen. I find myself avidly watching as well.

Episode basically from here until just before the end, enjoy! (actions/dialogue in real time will appear in as normal text, whereas the documentary is in italics)

Himari and Aera sit in the kitchen, both of them staring down at their breakfast. Himari glances up at Aera, noticing her worried expression.

“I’m sure they’ll call you soon. Anybody who turns you down is a complete idiot.”

Aera nods, not saying anything. Jimin reaches out to hold Aera’s hand. Minsuh comes in from down the hall, stretching.

“Morning,” she says around a yawn. “Any news A?”

Himari answers for her friend. “Not yet. What do you have going on today?”

Minsuh reaches for a bowl, waving at the kitchen camera like she does every morning. “Nothing much. I think Seohyun and I are going to study for a while, she’s going to help me prep for an exam I’ve got coming up. What about you guys?”

“Ichika and I have lessons. Want to join us, Aera? Brush up on your Japanese?”

“No,” Aera shakes her head. “I’m going to start getting Beth’s room ready.”

“Oh!” Himari grabs her phone from her back pocket. “That reminds me, I have to call that little punk.”

I gasp at Himari, my friend giving me a shy smile and shrugging.

Himari places the phone on speaker while the other two girls quietly eat their food and wait for me to answer.

“Was this the day before I flew out?” I ask no one in particular.

“Yeah, I think so.” Himari responds. Suddenly my voice cuts through the audio, and I physically cringe. Namjoon chuckles, reaching a hand up to steady me as I rock back against his chest.

“I knew you were going to call me,” I say, and Himari rolls her eyes while Minsuh snickers. “What’s up?”

“Are you all packed and ready to go?” Himari asks.

“Yeah, I think so. My flight leaves in...six hours. I’ll start heading to the airport in a couple of hours so I get there on time.”

“Hey, when’s the last time you logged anything?”

It’s silent on my side of the line for a while. “Er...a while.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“No, probably not.”

“Well this is me calling you and telling you to do your log before you leave. BigHit sent us some of those questions, answer them if you don’t know what to say.” My voice starts to cut in but Himari cuts me off. “I mean it! If you don’t I’m making sure you sleep on the couch when you get here.”

My sigh is audible, Aera looks up at Minsuh with the ghost of a smile.

“Ok, will do. I’ll log it as soon as I get off this call. How is everybody?”

Minsuh pipes up. “Hey Beth! We’re good!”

“Am I on speaker? Hey Min! Who else is there?”

“Just me,” Aera says, leaning closer to the phone. “I’m about to clean up your room so there aren’t any cobwebs. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, B. I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you too A. You don’t have to worry about my room...but make sure nobody has stolen my Jeju Island photo. Where’s everybody else?”

The camera jumps to another location, answering my very question. Kyung-soon is walking up to a nice looking apartment, double checking some files before kindly greeting a couple. She must have had a client.

Again the camera jumps, this time to a different continent where I’m settling down before my camera as I record my first log in months. I’m sitting at my kitchen island in my apartment back in the states, a picture of all the girls and I hanging on the wall behind me.

“Hello camera, it’s me again. Sorry for not logging in a while, I’ve been busy. And now I’m about to leave in a couple of hours to catch my flight to Seoul.” I look at my phone before me, reading something off of it. “This will be pretty quick, but I’ve got some of the questions BigHit sent me, so I’ll try to answer a few before I have to leave. Sound good?”

I scroll through the list of questions, eyebrows furrowed as I try to find a good one. “Hmm, it looks like these have gotten more and more personal over the years. I guess I’ll go with this one: ‘what do you look forward to the most returning to Seoul?’”

Shuffling in my seat I bite my lip as I stare down the camera. “I think I just get excited to be back with everybody. I know I don’t usually say anything like this, but I really miss them when I’m gone. I’m kind of stranded out here in the states. It’s hard to be here and know that all six of them get to stay together while I jump around from place to place. At least I’ll get to stay for a solid six months this time around, maybe more. Just depends.”

Namjoon fidgets behind me until he’s directly behind me. Slowly he pulls me back against his chest until I’m laying with my head tucked under his chin.

“Wow, this one’s intense. Should I just answer it? I doubt anybody will actually ever watch this. I feel like my logs are pretty boring. It says, ‘if you could go back and say anything to yourself three years ago, what would you say?’”

I lean back against my chair, pushing my hair out of the way. “I’m not sure I would really say much. There was just so much going on, it was information overload. I remember when I woke up the next morning, I thought everything was a dream. My sister had no clue, so I just left her a note and left our hotel to go on a run.” I laugh a little, recalling the memory. “I probably looked so crazy! This white girl running around Seoul like a maniac. I finally got to a point where I stopped, and finally was starting to calm down. Then, ha! Oh my gosh I remember this like it was yesterday, seriously. I checked my phone and saw that I had a notification from Weverse. It said ‘RM commented on so and so’s post’ and I lost it. Right there in the middle of this random park I started bawling. I was so overwhelmed.”

Namjoon’s grip tightens on me, and I take a deep breath. I’d honestly forgotten that I’d even done this log, I really didn’t think they’d put it into the documentary.

“So if I could go back to three years ago, I think I’d go to that moment and just give myself a hug. I was so terrified and had nobody to talk to. I’d hug myself, and say, you figure out how to keep moving forward. Just enjoy the ride, because it’s a crazy one.”

The screen fades out, my voice still narrating as I talk over the others girls’ actions. Kyung-soon is helping that couple to sign some paperwork.

“It’s definitely been crazy, but I’m better because of it.” I narrate and Kyung-soon gives an award winning smile to the couple, saying her goodbyes before heading back to her car.

Now we’re watching Minsuh laugh about something with Himari in the kitchen.

“I don’t want to think about where I’d be without my soul sisters, they mean so much to me. I really never thought I’d meet people as amazing as them in my life.”

Aera is in my room, sweeping and straightening my photo of Jeju Island.

“Sometimes I still wonder if there’s been a huge mistake and I’ll get a call from BigHit saying that I don’t actually have a soulmate. Things are so good that I think they may be too good.”

Seohyun jogs in a park, making faces at the camera each time she passes in front of it.

“But I’ll just keep living this dream for as long as fate will let me.”

Ichika struggles up the stairs to the apartment, grocery bags all over the place. The camera shakes as it’s set on the ground, and the cameraman assisting her.

“And as for the last question for this log… ‘if you could say a single sentence to your soulmate, what would you say?’”

Suddenly we’re back in my apartment, where I give a side smile to the camera.

“Hey Namjoon, wanna go out sometime?” Winking at the camera I lean up and turn it off.

The screen goes black, and then words cut across the screen.

Final Installment- Episode 132 “Finally.”

Everybody comes back to life as the introduction to the final episode ends and the rest of the episode starts up. Namjoon leans down to whisper in my ear.

“I’m sorry for making you cry in the park that morning.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you’re apologizing for that and not for trying to kill me earlier.”

My body shakes with Namjoon’s laugh, and we settle down to continue watching the documentary before us.

Kyung-soon stands in the living room with a huge mass of balloons before her. Minsuh comes up behind her, staring in awe.

“That’s a lot of balloons.”

Kyung-soon nods, biting her bottom lip. “Do you think it’s too much?”

“No, I think it looks great. Just, how are we going to get them into the car?”

“I have no idea.”

The two of them discuss possible game plans as Himari wanders in looking at her phone.

“Ok everyone! She’s over the ocean between us and Japan. We should probably get going. Wow,” she finally notices the balloons. “Looks good, Soon-ah. Don’t fly away, though. Seokjin would be so upset.”

Footsteps sound as the other three girls come in, each one’s attention going straight to the balloons.

“Ha! That’s amazing.” Ichika says. “She’s going to die when she sees that.”

The scene cuts to the airport, the girls anxiously waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Himari once again checks her phone for my flight information.

“It says that the flight landed fifteen minutes ago, she should be here any second.”

Aera nudges her. “Yah, you’re acting like your long lost lover has finally returned.”

Himari raises her eyebrows. “And?”

“Oh, there she is!” Seohyun shouts, and sure enough I appear on camera. Hat down low and a mask on I wave at everyone. A few people pause to look at all the commotion before continuing on.

Namjoon whispers to me again. “You look like a celebrity with your hat and mask.”

I chuckle, watching my reunion with the girls that only happened earlier this week. “I felt like one, too.”

My soulmate lets out a breathy laugh when the girls start teasing me, asking me what my reaction would be if he were the one to pick me up from the airport.

“You know, I’ve noticed that you’re really good at avoiding teasing.”

“I’ve had lots of practice.”

The documentary skips to our apartment, the girls hanging out in the living room debating whether or not to wake me up or let me sleep.

“I’m going to wake her up, she’s probably starving.” Aera says, and Minsuh follows her out of the room. The other girls remain in the room, Seohyun talking about one of her classes.

I nearly fall asleep in Namjoon’s arms, it’s so comfy. What brings me out of my stupor is the distinct sound of Seohyun’s rendition of “Mic Drop” and everybody laughing along with her.

I watch as we enjoy the show, Kyung-soon announcing to everyone that we’re going on ahead. Suddenly I jolt up, Namjoon jumping at the sudden movement. I remember what comes after this.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks. “Did you see a bug?”

“No…” My attention is pulled into the documentary as Kyung-soon and I quietly converse. “It’s just - that was a hard night for me. That’s all.”

I can feel Namjoon’s eyes assessing me but I refuse to look at him for fear of him seeing right through me.

“If you’re uncomfortable we can go inside,” he offers.

Finally I look over to him. He calmly returns my gaze, awaiting my answer.

“I think I’m fine for now. Just, don’t judge me, ok?”

Namjoon nods fervently. “Never.” Extending his arms out, he pulls me back into his chest. “Let me know if you want to leave, and we’ll go.”

Kyung-soon and I appear on the balcony of our apartment, where we both study the stars above us.

“I can’t-”

“You have to. Beth, please don’t lock us out and keep all of these feelings to yourself. You don’t have to tell us every little thing, but you need to talk about it. Just because you don’t say it out loud doesn’t mean that you won’t feel scared or worried anymore.”

The tension is palpable as my sobs cut through the silence. I’m pretty sure Namjoon stopped breathing.

“I look at our boys, and I feel like they’re already complete. They have each other, they have ARMY, they’re complete. They have no idea that soulmates are even a thing, let alone that they have soulmates. There’s a part of me that’s mad about that. Mad that for the last three years I’ve been waiting for a man that is already happy without me, that is already more loved that he can even fathom. Mad at freaking Mr. Bang, because he refuses to tell them until the ‘time is right’. It’s been three years! And I’ve picked myself back up and tried my hardest to continue on in my career, and it’s fulfilling. I have the most amazing friends in the world, my family is so loving and supportive, and I love my job. So why do I feel so lonely?”

Namjoon wraps his arms around me tightly, and I feel that strange ache in my chest again. This time, though, it aches and aches until it cracks. With it, come the tears.

Like a dam come undone the tears flow from my eyes as the echoes of my sobs from the documentary cut through the night. Namjoon holds me tighter, tighter until he’s all I can feel.

“You know what, come here.” Namjoon says, his voice thick. He stands, pulling me up with him. We’re near the back, so nobody really notices us as Namjoon pulls me away. He leads me around my beach house until we’re completely blocked from view. The audio from the documentary follows me, and I keep my eyes trained on the ground as the tears blur my vision.

Namjoon finally comes to a stop, his hands resting firmly on my shoulders. I can’t bring myself to look up at him, thoroughly humiliated at one of my most vulnerable moments being on full display.

“Beth, look at me.” I shake my head, angrily wiping away my tears. He reaches up to catch a tear as it rolls down my cheek. “Look at me. Please.”

Again I shake my head, completely mortified at the situation I’m in. Wasn’t this supposed to be a fun trip? Worry-free?

“Ok, that’s ok. You don’t have to.” Namjoon moves to grab my shoulders again. “I just need you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

I clench my teeth as I nod, trying so hard to keep in my sobs.

“Alright. I am so-” his voice cracks and he takes a moment before speaking again. “I am so sorry, Beth. For all of it. For making you feel that way. I wish - I just wish we could have avoided all that heartache and pain. You were so strong, for so long. You still are, I can see that. From the second we first met I saw that you are strong and the most incredible person to ever walk the earth. I might be a bit biased,” I croak out a laugh which seems to spur him on, “but nobody can change my mind about you. I was lonely, too. Did you know that? Even with all the love I receive every day, I’m still lonely. Do you know how infuriating that is?”

Steeling my nerves I peak up at him. My heart twists further when I see the tears running down my soulmate’s face. He continues on, paying them no mind.

“I felt like there was something so wrong with me, but I learned with time that it’s normal. Everybody feels lonely. It’s a horrible feeling, and confusing sometimes. Especially when it feels like you have every reason to be happy. But we’re human. This is part of our human experience, as much as it sucks. Beth,” Namjoon rests a hand under my chin when my eyes fall again, gently urging me to look up at him. “I don’t feel alone anymore. That’s because of you. Just seeing you, I feel like everything is going to be alright. Do you see how amazing that is? I’m not lonely anymore. Please, Beth.” He releases a shaky breath, the earnestness in his eyes bringing a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. “Let me try. I don’t want you to feel alone anymore. Let me in,” Namjoon gestures to his heart, “and I swear I’ll never leave.”

Staring up at him, I know he’s telling the truth. I can tell he means every word he’s saying. But I have to know. I have to ask.

“You’ve been promising a lot of things,” I mutter, inhaling sharply as the tears rush down my face. “Are you sure you can keep all your promises? Please, Namjoon. Please don’t promise me something you can’t keep.”

Gently brushing the tears from my face, Namjoon leans in. Slowly, and close enough that I can see the light reflected in the tears still on his face. My heart, limp and weak as it may be, jumps at the close proximity.

“Do you mind if I make another promise?” Namjoon whispers before his lips brush up against my cheek. I freeze as he licks the salty mixture from his lips before moving to the other side.

“N-no,” I mumble.

Just there, the only warning I have is the feeling of his warm breath before he sweetly kisses away the remaining tears on my other cheek.

He pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. “I promise that I will never make you a promise that I cannot keep.”

Eyes drifting down to my mouth he tilts my head up ever so slightly. My eyes drift shut of their own accord, the only thing keeping me tied to the earth being Namjoon’s hands that hold me like I may break at any moment.

The first brush of his lips takes my breath away, the feeling so light that I wonder for a brief moment if this isn’t all just in my head.

Slowly he deepens the kiss, just enough for the salty tang of my tears on his lips to seep into my senses. The bittersweet taste has me reaching out to him, hands fisting the material over his chest. I cling to my soulmate as he clings to me, and even the world slows for a moment in order to accommodate this moment. Fate has never been my friend, but in this sliver of time I feel that it has been uncommonly kind to me.

By the time we pull away, resting our foreheads together, the ache in my heart has subsided. Namjoon’s hands slide down to my waist, holding me in place. As if I’d go anywhere.

I look up at my soulmate only to find his eyes still shut, drinking in the moment. Taking the precious seconds fate has given me, I study him out. Bliss suits him.

As though feeling my gaze, his eyes slide open. A small smile crosses his features, and the word that I have come to associate with Kim Namjoon over the past couple of days reappears in my mind’s eye, hanging over us like the stars in the sky.

Perfect.

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Taglist is open! Happy Halloween this weekend everyone! Thoughts? They finally kissed! (lol, finally. they’ve known each other for what, two or three days?) I love these two. Stay safe and healthy!

taglist: @mae-musicbitch @taylorroe3 @heartblackerthancoffee @eusticenatalie @agustneeds

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