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emmanelson · 3 years

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Chapter 3: Feelings and First Times

A little prequel that takes place during 2.01-2.02 when Devi is dating both Ben and Paxton. The first time they have sex, it isn’t in a friends-with-benefits relationship. It’s bordering on the brink of something real, something special, at least in Paxton’s retrospect.

tw: rated M for sexual content

In the days that followed Devi deciding to date both Ben and Paxton, their relationship moved at a quicker pace than expected. Paxton meant what he said by wanting to make the time they still had together count, even if it would only be for a couple more weeks. So when Devi is invited to the Hall-Yoshida household that Friday night with the implicit instruction to stay over, she tells her mom she is sleeping over at Eleanor’s and is maybe even a little too eager to get there, the walk feels more like a sprint. They had tried taking the next step a few times, and then realized they wanted to live long enough to actually see each other, so doing it at the Vishwakumar residence was out of the question.

She isn’t expecting much, a pizza, maybe some video games in the garage and then she’d retire to Rebecca’s room and try to raid her closet unsuccessfully. But what she arrived at was a whole other story.

She was greeted at the door with a long, slow kiss and Paxton’s lit up face as he ushered her inside.

“We’ve gone on enough dates for me to get that it means one on one, so tonight it’s just us.” He was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Do you have protection?”

“Yeah I-Why, do you?” Leave it to Devi to be the first one to bring up sex. She did say that Paxton brought out her mega-horny side after all, and never thought she would actually get this close to having sex before being moved halfway around the world.

“Yeah, I kind of panicked and asked Kamala to buy me some at the drug store and drop it off a block away so my mom didn’t catch on.” For talking a big game, Devi knew next to nothing about sex. She only knew what she saw in tv shows, read about in weird Wattpad-fanfiction-turned-best-selling-novels, and researched on the internet. She had tried watching porn once but she clicked play when her airpod was off and you couldn’t pay her to relive that experience and the horror of her mom asking what she was doing.

“I kinda asked my parents to take Becca out for the night. I wanna show you something.” Paxton lightly took her head as they walked up the staircase towards his bedroom. Not the garage, not the couch, his room.

“If this is going to be one of the last weekends we have together, I wanted it to be special and shit.” She had been in Paxton’s room before, but had never seen it so clean, and was that the smell of fresh sheets? Upon taking in Devi’s widened gaze, he quickly backtracked and shook his head vigorously. “Not that we have to fool around or do anything that you don’t want to.”

Devi was shaking her head and stifling a laugh for a whole other reason.

“I just wanted you to have something that was something out of the stupid chick-flicks that Becca makes me watch. Something that you can think about while you’re in India and I’m stuck here. I had to use these dumb environmentally friendly light bulbs that my mom buys because the last time we had real candles, there was an incident with Trent and the house almost burned down.”

He had lit candles, or at least light bulbs in the shape of candles, ushered his family out of the house and seemed rather hesitant about asking for sex. She couldn’t believe this was her life right now. Her relationship with Paxton had always been somewhat based on physical attraction. When they first talked and she asked him for sex, to when they started dating and moved onto beyond chaste kisses and lingering touches over clothes to long makeout sessions and bruised lips and body parts.

If anything it only made her want him more and she eagerly hooked her arms around his neck. “This is perfect. More than perfect actually, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble, but I’m glad you did.”

Normally Devi was the one rambling and Paxton was the one initiating things between them, it was kind of a rush to be on the other side of things for a change.

“I want my first time to be with you, here, just like this.” She whispered against his mouth, watching as his lips curved upwards into a wide smile.

He took his time kissing her, familiarizing himself with her body, teasing things out in her that she figured laid dormant. He was moving so slow that Devi was getting frustrated as they fell back onto his bed.

“I know I’m the virgin here, but doesn’t it usually move a lot quicker than this?” She was trying to unbutton his jeans, lift up his shirt to feel his abs, anything to speed things up but Paxton simply continued pushing his tongue past her lips and making her head spin.

A hand snaked under her shirt and Devi immediately moved to cover her breasts, insecurity surfacing at the worst time.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know I have small boobs and I’m not like Zoe or Shira levels of hotness. So if this isn’t, you know up to par with the sex you usually have, I understand.”

Paxton only furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Did she really not know how he felt about her?

“Not only are you beautiful on the outside, but you’re gorgeous on the inside, something that they...are lacking.”

His words always made her flush, and this time was no exception. “I like your body. Now can I continue to appreciate it the way it deserves?” He chuckled under his breath and with one hand, grabbed both of hers and pinned them above her head. Her eyes widened in surprise and anticipation, she bit down on her bottom lip and if things weren’t already well on their way, he would have muttered something about wanting to do very dirty things to her. Repeatedly.

“If this is the first time, and quite possibly the last time we have to do this, you better believe that I am going to be taking my time with you.” He caught her lower lip with his teeth, slowing his movements which only made a whine emit from deep in her throat.

Paxton’s free hand moved between her legs and brushed her core through her underwear. Without breaking eye contact he moved her panties aside and inserted one finger into her, and then another.

The sudden pressure made Devi suck in a breath, no amount of YA novels or research could have prepared her for what it would actually feel like. Her whole body lit up, as if she was covered in gasoline and Paxton had lit a match, starting a fire that only seemed to spread.

“So tight.” His breath came out ragged, his jeans tightening against him. Paxton thought that guys thought about sex more than girls, and he hadn’t heard anything to the contrary until he met Devi. She had stared at him one too many times past the point of charming and made remarks about wanting to “climb him like a jungle gym.” Mostly through text to Fabiola and Eleanor that he may have happened to stumble upon when he used her phone to play Candy Crush.

In the days that followed their kiss in the park, Paxton wanted to nail his next history while Devi made it increasingly difficult to concentrate with all the short skirts she would wear, and don’t forget about the constant sexual innuendos she would make that went over his head because they had to do with whatever subject they were learning about.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. One word, and he would gladly stall his movements. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, just go faster. I want more of you. All of you.”

This night was all about making her comfortable, making sure she was getting the most out of this, that her needs were met. A selfish part of him hoped that if he made a lasting impression, she wouldn’t come back from India with a smarter, hotter, boyfriend or worse, fiance. His fears only made his grip on her tighten and tilt her chin up so she was forced to meet his eyes.

“Tell me, in words or else I’ll just assume and that’s a really shitty thing to do.” He spoke slowly, deliberately as her eyes fixated on his chest.

“I want you inside of me.”

Paxton breathed out a sigh of relief, or was Devi breathing out her own? He withdrew his hand and her body instantly shivered at the loss of contact. Within the time it took for him to shake off his jeans, Devi had regained control of her hands and grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt into her hands, yanking it over his head in record time.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Shh, this is about making you feel good.” He mumbled into her hair, dragging his lips towards her ear as she ground her hips into his. He took a condom out of his jeans pocket and rolled it on before positioning himself in between her legs.

He pushed into her slowly, the movements stilling as Devi dug her nails into his back in retaliation. She grimaced at the feeling, her body was tightly wound up and only when Paxton began to move his body at a quicker pace, did hers relax in response.

They laid in bed after, Devi’s legs felt like the jello and even if she had to be home in a few hours, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk without falling or at least looking like a klutz. “Is that a picture of Gigi Hadid on your ceiling?”

Now it was Paxton’s turn to almost flush to an unseemly red color.

“I’ve had that up there forever, just forgot to take it down that’s all.”

“Do you look at it when you, you know?”

“I was just inside you Vishwakumar, I think we’re as intimate as two people can be. You can say the word masturbate.”

“Well, do you?” She pressed, ignoring the way nerves once more fluttered against her stomach. “Do you ever think of me, when you touch yourself?”

“If only you knew.” He murmured against her neck, not wanting to give away just how many nights he spent relieving himself to the memory of their first kiss, or more recently, to their makeout sessions that didn’t just leave her hot and bothered, but him as well. “That was your first time right?”

“Is it that obvious? Should I just have had the word virgin written across my forehead?”

“I think it’s cool that you waited or whatever. Did what was right for you.”

“Why? What was your first time like?” Devi didn’t want to pry, or ask something too personal, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious.

“Um, I think I was 14.”

“14? As in like freshman year of high school?” That was one year younger than her current age, it made bile rise to her throat at the thought.

“Eighth grade. It was the summer before high school and the JV and Varsity swim teams invited us incoming freshmen to a party, to get to know each other and whatnot. It was chaperoned by this one guy’s sister, I think she was 21. Her name was Stacey or Stephanie, something with an S. She brought us all beer and acted cooler than any of our parents at the time.” Devi didn’t say anything, but silently nodded and urged him to continue.

“Anyway, one night like the first week of school, we all get wasted right? Some more than others I guess, because I woke up not remembering anything that happened or even how I got so intoxicated. I was mostly drinking Coke the entire night, with some rum here and there sure, but nothing too extreme. I passed out on the couch and when I woke up, she was on top of me, stroking my hair, touching me, and telling me to stay quiet so we didn’t wake anyone up.”

“I-Is that all?” Her eyes were wide, almost glassy, and Paxton instantly felt years older than her. Like she was too innocent to be hearing this and yet here he was, exposing her to it anyway. Exposing her to the harsh reality that he didn’t want her to know, yet she was already familiar with after what happened to her dad.

“She started whispering in my ear. Tell me how I seemed really mature for my age and how college boys are so rowdy and they didn’t listen to her like I did. I don’t even remember us having any kind of in-depth conversation.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “She said that it wasn’t cool to go into high school as a virgin, especially if you were a guy. The other guys on the swim team would just turn it into some kind of contest to see who could get laid the fastest. She said I would have a leg up on all of them and be able to show off.”

A bitter chuckle passed through his lips. “Except, I didn’t feel superior or like a man or wanted, I just felt empty.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“Only Trent.”

Not wanting to sound rude, Devi bit her tongue and remained nonchalant. “Is Trent really the best person to be telling your secrets to?”

“He’s actually cool once you get to know him, okay? He told me that if I wanted to go to the cops and quote ‘make her a prison bitch’ unquote that he would back me up. He may act stoned 90% of the time, but he has a good heart. I trust him with my life.”

“Did um, did you ever see her again?” She asked patiently, as her fingers ran up and down the length of his torso.

“At that point, it didn’t matter. When I got back to school on Monday everyone had heard, turned me into the big man on campus and whatnot, whether I earned the title or not. I wish I had waited, you know? For my first time to be with someone that I really cared about.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know I’ve been with other girls before and you know, I’m some ladies man or shit. But that’s all it was you know, just sex. It’s isn’t like that with you.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, this was better than what I had in mind. It was better than any rom-com or YA novel.”

“This doesn’t mean nothing okay? It would never mean nothing, not with you.”

Devi immediately wanted to correct his use of a double negative, but she refrained. She was speechless, too raw, first from the sex they just had and then hearing Paxton’s story. She was touched that he felt comfortable sharing such a private event with her.

“Would you have done things different? Your first time I mean.” She asked quietly, finding her voice again after letting all the information she had just heard sink in.

“Well I definitely would have waited to do it when I was sober.”

“Everyone deserves a second change, a do-over. And you aren’t drunk or high or impaired in any way right now are you?”

“No.”

“So take your do-over.” Sure she didn’t handle her own trauma in the best manner, but she was surprisingly insistent in helping others overcome their own turmoil. Plus with her big brown eyes, Paxton felt like he was saying no to Bambi.

“Dev-”

“I want you to feel good.” His own words hung in the air between them uttered by her soft voice, only a silent nod of his head and Devi had pressed her lips against his and rolled them over so she was now flush against his chest. “We can go as painfully slow as you want.”

“So now you aren’t in a rush to jump me?” The warmth in his features returned, he seemed to have a genuine smile on his face and was raising an eyebrow at her in slightly amusement.

“Something tells me this won’t be the last time, we’ll get there.”

#daxton #daxton fanfic #devi x paxton #paxton x devi #daxtonedit #nhie fic #heatwavefic

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connordavidscamera · 3 years

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Living, Learning, and Filming Ch.1 | Connor Brashier

A/n: once again I am just here rewriting/revising this series. Not much will change most likely, just some minor editing.

Summary: Y/n and Connor are partners for their final project. Their topic of choice, however, might get them in some trouble.

Warnings: just a little playful banter

Word count:1.8k

***

Week 1

“Brashier, I’m having a girl over tonight so I’m gonna need you to - whoa. What is going on in here? You’re cleaning?” My roommate, Brian questions, stopping in the doorway of my room.

I shrug, “Yeah. It was looking too messy.”

“Too messy,” he repeats.

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay… Who’s the girl?”

“There’s no girl,” I answer, putting the dirty clothes in my hand in the hamper by my closet.

“Well you’re definitely not cleaning for yourself. I’ve seen this room worse than this and it didn’t bother you then.”

“Craigen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. My room was dirty, I wanted to clean it.”

“Because you want a girl in here,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a smirk, coming further into the room. “What class do you have with her?”

I sigh because I know there’s no point in hiding it from him, “She’s in my film class. We’re partners for our final.”

“And you want to fuck her?”

I scoff, “Brian, come on.”

“You do,” he cocks an eyebrow.

“Why does it matter? She’s coming over tomorrow for us to start on our project.”

“Uh huh. And what’s the project?”

I know my face just got a little redder. “Falling in love in college,” I mumble.

He laughs and I don’t mean one of those mocking “haha” types of laughs. I mean, he’s clutching his stomach, almost doubling over, he’s laughing so hard.

“Falling,” he stops himself, still laughing. Dick. “Falling in love? Like with each other? Whose fucked idea was this? Do you know anything about her?”

“That’s what I’m doing with this. I made her a bet that one or both of us will be in love with each other by the end of this project.”

“Ha! By the end?” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “You realize she’s already got you fucked, right? I mean, she’s already got you cleaning for her.” He gestures around the room with his hand as if that’s supposed to prove his point further.

I scoff again, “Whatever. It’s just for fun, Brian.”

“A game?” he questions.

I shrug, “Yeah. A game.”

“And if you do just so happen to fall in love with her? What then?”

“It’s not gonna happen like that.”

“But if it does?” he persists.

“Then I lose.” She’s already made it pretty clear she’s not gonna fall for me.

---

I’m walking out of my ethics class when I catch sight of y/n with some, I’m assuming, friends. They’re just walking out of the cafeteria, she’s laughing, her hand combs gently through the ends of her hair. I won’t deny that she’s pretty. Dangerously, so. I don’t realize that I’m still staring until she catches my gaze and waves, smiling with teeth. I don’t want to be rude, so I wave back and I watch her say something to her friends before making her way over to me.

“Hi,” she says brightly, a much different greeting than I was expecting. Our last encounter, she left the room without a smile on her face, head down, watching her feet as she walked.

“Hi,” I respond, hands in my pockets, trying to bring out my “too cool” persona that I put on in front of other people.

“Are you busy right now?” she asks, her eyes shining bright, popping against the eyeshadow she’s wearing, which compliments the too big, navy blue sweater dress that’s currently swallowing her frame.

��Um… no. What’s up?” I scratch the back of my neck.

“You in the mood to start filming?”

I hum, “I’d love to, but I left my camera at home.”

“I have mine in my dorm, I could start my part.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Come on, it’s nice out. We can go to the coffee shop down the street. I had a few ideas about what I wanted to do, if you’re down.”

“What are these ideas?” I ask as we start to walk toward her dorm, I’m guessing.

“I don’t just want it to be a plain subject with no interaction between the director and subject. If we’re going to do this specific topic, we have to do it a little differently than just saying ‘okay, action.’ We won’t get the best results that way.”

“Okay?”

She’s looking at her shoes again as she walks. “I was thinking about something like an interview process. Just as an introduction. A kind of ‘who are you? Have you ever been in love?’ type thing. Obviously asking questions pertaining to the topic, but also just to get to know the different subjects, and to get them comfortable.”

“I like it. And I think toward the end of the project we could do another one, same questions, hopefully different answers.”

She nods, still not looking up. “Yeah, hopefully.”

“Your shoes are still there, you know?” I joke.

“What?” Finally, her eyes meet mine.

“You watch your feet when you walk.”

“Oh, um… sorry. I didn’t notice.”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s cute. It just makes it hard to look at your eyes when you talk.”

“Well they’re nothing special. You’re not missing anything,” she chuckles.

“They’re pretty,” I tell her and her cheeks heat up.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“So, this is the way to your dorm?”

“Yep… do you live on campus?”

“No, my friend, Brian and I share an apartment a few miles from here.”

“Oh, does he go here too?”

“Yeah, he’s a business major.”

“Oh, that’s cool. That’s what I was going to do if this whole photography thing didn’t work out.”

“Why do you think it’s not going to work?”

“Well there’s a lot of film going on recently. It’s competitive, I don’t exactly know how my work is going to fit into the equation, but that’s not stopping me just yet.”

I smile softly at the confession. “Well, I may not have seen your work yet, but I’m pretty sure you’re gonna make it.”

“Ah, says the guy who has already made his big break, traveling the world with Mr. Shawn Mendes himself.”

“You've been reading up on me,” I muse.

“I thought if we were going to be working together, I needed to know who I was going to be spending my time with. Your stuff is really, really good. I can see why he hired you.”

“Oh,” it’s my turn to blush, “well, thank you.”

When we get inside her dorm building she turns to face me, “So, the elevator’s broken. Has been for a couple weeks. They keep saying they’re gonna fix it, but at this point I’m expecting them to be working on it the day we come back from Christmas break. Anyway, are you good with the stairs?”

“Well I don’t really have a choice, do I?” I counter.

“I mean, you could stay down here if you’d like. I’ll just be a minute.”

“No, I was kidding. I’m good taking the stairs.”

“Okay, then follow me,” she says, taking her keys from her bag.

She’s a few steps ahead of me, and if I look up at just the right time I can -

“Looking up my dress isn’t going to get you under it any faster, Brashier.”

My eyes widen and I shake my head, “No. I - I wasn’t.”

“You were,” she looks down at me from her step and smirks. “You’re not very smooth, are you?”

“Up until this very moment, I thought I was.”

She nods, “You might be a smooth talker, but your actions need a little work.”

I chuckle, “If you say so, sweetheart.”

Y/n scrunches up her nose, “Sweetheart,” she continues walking and I follow. “That’s condescending.”

“You’re really gonna make this hard for me, aren’t you?” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Well where’s the fun in me making it easy for you?”

I hum and press my body close against hers, holding gently onto her elbow as she reaches to unlock the door, “How about we save ‘sweetheart’ for the bedroom then? Hmm?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “You’d have to get there first, Connor. And right now? You couldn’t be further away.” She looks back at me and I glance between her eyes and her lips.

“You keep frowning and your face will stay like that.” I run my index finger over her bottom lip and her eyes flutter shut.

But she quickly opens them again, turning away from my burning gaze, “Two and a half months,” she mumbles. “God, help me.” I don’t think she meant for me to hear either of those things, but the proximity of us was currently my friend and I thank god she hasn’t told me to move yet.

---

“Okay,” Y/n fixes the settings on her camera, looking through the lens every few seconds and then back at me. “I think we’re ready.”

“We're just going right in?”

She nods behind the camera, “Yep. And… we’re recording. What’s your full name?”

“My name is Connor David Brashier. I am twenty-one, and a junior here at UCLA.”

“What are your hobbies?”

“I like filming, playing video games, and surfing.”

“What is it about filming that you like the most?”

I push at my bottom lip with my tongue, thinking the question over. “I like capturing the things that would otherwise go unnoticed. Those small things that no one thinks about until after the fact. Like at concerts, people are there and they watch the show, but they don’t see what happens behind the stage, they don’t see how incandescently happy they are to be there. I like giving that back to them. That feeling they had, the feeling the performer and the team had before and after the show.”

She’s smiling behind the camera and I can’t help but blush, looking down at my hands. “Do you see yourself doing this for the rest of your life?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Even if it takes you away from your family?”

I have to think about it for a minute. “It doesn’t take me away from them. They’re always with me, supporting me.”

“I like that answer,” she says, tugging at the bottom of her sweater. “And uh, last couple questions.”

“Alright. Hit me.”

“These questions pertain to the actual topic of our project. Which as you know is the average life of someone falling in love. So your question is: have you ever been in love before?”

I look at her, hiding behind the screen of her camera and I can’t stop myself from smiling fondly. “No. Not yet.”

She nods. “Can you see yourself falling in love with someone?”

I take my time to answer this, because I know my answer, but I don’t want to seem too eager.

“Connor?”

“Sorry,” I clear my throat. “Can you repeat the question?”

“Can you see yourself falling in love with someone?” she asks again.

“Yes,” I answer. “Yeah, I can see myself falling in love with you.”

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!

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#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #living learning and filming

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yukiobeyme · 4 years

Note

Would you be willing to do one of the NSFW alphabet headcannons for Beel? I just read your Levi one and it was good 💓

NSFW under the cut! Thank you for the request <3

Beelzebub NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Didn’t really know what aftercare was, just figured it was staying together and sleeping. You end up bringing up your needs or the idea of aftercare. Beelzebub then makes sure to keep extra snacks and drink for you; he even goes as far as finding the electrolyte drinks to make sure you stay hydrated.

He also adores giving you soft kisses on your back and shoulders, holding you close to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands, Beelzebub is huge for a demon but compared to a human, even of average or above-average size, he is massive. He absolutely marvels at the sheer difference between the sizes.

He loves your mouth; he loves how your mouth makes him feel. But he also loves your hands and how small they are compared to his dick. He honestly overall loves everything about you, especially when it’s on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The first time you swallowed his cum, he was beyond shocked and turned on again. He let out a groan when he felt his dick twitch interested in the scene that was in front of him. If he ever comes on your chest you should expect him to finger feed you his cum until you are clean.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not necessarily dirty but it’s probably one of the secrets he has kept from you. He likes how much bigger he is than you, he also knows the pure power he has over you as someone so much bigger as you and as a demon. But it’s something inside him snaps when you take charge and control. Something about seeing you smaller and weaker body on top of him, he is completely submissive and is practically putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is surprisingly experienced? He is by no means easy but promises of breakfast in the morning definitely motivates him to give his best performance. But it’s only a handful of partners but treats every time as his first time. Not necessarily in a clumsy/awkward way but more in the sense of teasing and casually touching you, making sure you are doing okay before he completely devours you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he is a simple demon and he loves the closeness of it. Sure he is down for you to top him or even occasionally take you from behind, but something about watching you fall apart under him drives him wild.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Can be pretty goofy, sex is weird and awkward sometimes. And sometimes weird noises are made and he constantly reassuring you that it’s all good. But he also just loves your laugh and smile and bringing them behind closed doors and to an intimate moment just drives him wild. Very rarely is it super serious, those are reserved for times when you need to be reminded of how loved and precious you are.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets do match the drapes, he is naturally not very hairy but he is well-groomed, something about his wrestling outfit. Out of season, it’s a toss-up, It is either well-groomed for a bit but he’ll let it grow for a while, getting annoyed at the length and then the cycle starts all over again.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Is more on the romantic aspect, there is always a date or something beforehand. He tries to woo and seduce you every time. Makes sure to worship you and praise your body. You would be covered with his kisses and love before being wrapped tightly in his arms.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t jack off often, after meeting you, he would have more urges for sure. But Beel used to having food turning him on, so for you to turn him on he was equal parts confused and curious. After getting in a relationship he rather just message you he is hungry for you rather than food and forgoes jacking off alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Food Kink

It was your idea to bring food to the equation and Beel was more than eager to participate. Whip cream and strawberries are his favorites but there something about licking chocolate off you is amazing too. Likes to be one that gets to eat but will occasionally be allowed to be eaten off of.

Size Kink

It’s just something about how much bigger his is than you. How he can corner you and just tower over you. Your hand is so tiny in his and it drives him up the wall. While he isn’t into power play, he thinks his size kink influences his thoughts about how you could easily break when he towers over you. He also enjoys how much he can touch of you at once.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your room, he doesn’t want to risk having Belphie ruining the moment. Though your room isn’t much safer. Occasionally the shower/bath and there was even a wild incident in a random closet at RAD.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Purely seeing you and seeing you react to him and how he moves. Its intoxicating and makes him hungry in other ways. He is being honest when he wants to devour you. Teasing is always a good thing to get him going especially when you try to eat the most sexual foods innocently. Praising and moaning over the taste, he tells you he is the only one that can make you sound like that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can be considered dangerous and isn’t into BDSM. He just won’t do it, anything he is iffy on takes a lot of time and communication before he would consider it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving all the way, he takes eating you out to a whole other level. You know that recent video of the Hawaiian Papaya eating contest? That’s how he eats you out, he constantly going down only coming up when he needs air before diving start back in with enthusiasm.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual all the way. Very rarely is he fast and rough, only times when he thinks he was going to lost you or if you spent the whole day working him up. He rarely desperate enough to want it fast and rough, He thoroughly enjoys slowly take you apart. Starting with kissing all over you, ignoring your sensitive areas. Before he finds his way to your thighs, where he will nip and bit. Your hands will be threaded in his hair and voice hoarse with pleading with him to touch you before he finally gives in.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t haven’t often, he just doesn’t like being quick with you. He wants to take you apart piece by piece. He doesn’t want you leaving him without feeling worn out but most important he doesn’t want left to feel unloved.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

With you he is willing to experiment, it makes it more fun. He is never too serious so any idea you have he won't shoot down and is willing to figuring it how to make it come true.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go 3-4 rounds; he considers rounds the amount of time you get off. He usually cums twice maybe a third time depending on the day. The first round is always focused on you feeling good without penetration, then focused on both of you with penetration, and the third is working you through another orgasm after you already felt spent. If you are up for another round, it a very slow and sinful round. Beel lasts way too long for your liking if that is even possible but he somehow manages his lust and desire perfectly.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Isn’t the biggest fan of using toys, unless if you express you would like to use toys, he wouldn’t even think about it. Doesn’t own any toys. Though he was a fan when you suggested edible lingerie

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Is very unfair and what makes it so unfair is he doesn’t mean to be. He just enjoys making you feel good and you spend all day worshipping your body. He loves all the noises you make, and it only encourages him, the amount of times you have been close to tears due to his teasing is unreal. You learned that tugging at his hair can usually get him to move on from the teasing but some days it seems like he wants to tease and work you up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Isn’t very loud, he likes to only make noise when he is beside your ear. So you know exactly what noises you pull from him. Whenever he is receiving pleasure it isn’t a surprise to see him biting his lip or have a hand over his mouth to try and quiet himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It took a long time before you were able to talk Beel into letting you wear a gag ball. He just hates not being able to hear you or communicate with you. But then again there was something seeing your mouth stretched around a red ball, like a roast pig, that sparked a fire instead of him. The sex was rough and desperate, as you had drool at the corner of your mouths and tears threaten to leak from your eyes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Is HUNG, like damn. Like to the point, it is intimidating that first time you see it, but if you were to be split open… what a way to go. He knows he is huge too and makes sure to always be gentle and never pushes you or your body. The first time you saw it, or rather an outline was during a wrestling match and you were distracted and concern.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Is average for a demon, maybe a tad below average. But he would never turn down sex with you, especially because of the soft and intimate moments with you in the afterglow.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He isn’t going to sleep until he eats to restore his stamina and most times it’s a food coma that will knock him out after sex. But he always brings you water and some food too, encouraging you to at least eat something before he will pull you onto his chest.

#Yuki writes a lemon about a demon #yuki draws #Lemon Time with a Demon #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub obey me #obey me beelz #Yuki Writes!#yuki writes

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boymeetsweevil · 5 years

Text

MBD - 04

Grouping: Reader x Yoongi

Word Count: <8k

Summary: Three lessons to be learned: 1) don’t read the comments. Ever. 2) Baking will never let you down. 3) Don’t tease Yoongi.

Warnings/Themes: Angst?? Heavy doses of body image and related unhealthy behaviors, low self-esteem, cyberbullying? May be triggering for some. Some suggestive content. A jealous Yoongi.

part 0, part 1, part 2, part 3

A few more days pass through your break from work. Yoongi stayed with you the morning after coming back from the club to help you nurse your hangover, but he’d been in the dorms and studio since then. This left you with extra time on your hands.

In that time, you visited your best friend and your cousin who both lived deeper in the city, a mere hour’s ride from your apartment in the outskirts. You also got ahead on some work despite the fact that your boss gave you strict warnings about fully enjoying the break after seeing how hard you worked on the project for the quarter. But eventually you ran out work you could do and had nothing left but Netflix and the internet.

As it turns out, being alone with the internet ends up being a horrible set of circumstances. Curiosity and boredom get the best of you, and you find yourself breaking a cardinal rule.

You google Yoongi to see what pops up and get recent news about him being spotted with a lady friend. You know better, but optimism pulls you in and you’re opening up one of the articles. Apparently a fan that snuck into the VIP booth snapped a picture of you dancing with him at the club you went to a few days prior. Yoongi looks handsome with his bare face half obscured by his mask and a soft expression as he looks at you. But you let out a raspy gasp at your picture.

The only good thing about the photo is that your face is turned away from the camera, leaving your identity barely undiscovered. But your neck is coated with sweat, gleaming under the club lights. In the picture, the dance-move you’re doing is frozen, awkward and contorted, your body looks all wrong. With the powerful camera flash, you can see all the spots on your clothes where sweat had accumulated, all the spots where your amateur makeup skills failed. There’s no grace, no elegance, no dignity afforded to you in the photo. It’s not the first time you’ve seen of yourself in a random pap site or careless photos. But it’s by far the worst one you’ve seen.

Like a magnet is drawing you there, even though your stomach already feels like shards of ice are forming inside it, you break a second cardinal rule. You read the comments.

It’s amazing that she feels comfortable looking like that when there’s a literal GOD standing next to her. I could never do that. I wouldn’t even leave the house

Why is something like this allowed when there are much prettier girls to pick from?

I don’t think Yoongi would be stupid enough to date this girl, the picture probably just makes it look like they’re together when they’re obvi not

actually I think this is the same girl in that ##0524 photo. Look (image01) same hairstyle and earrings. I think she just turned into a blimp...

Guys plz be nice u don’t know this person. Maybe she has a really great personality

so? This is what she gets for trying too hard to cling to Yoongi

Yo it’s prolly cuz she’s rich. You see those leggings? I didn’t even think they made them in that size but they’re from that brand IU wears. And they’re like $250 :0

She wasn’t even that pretty before this but now I REALLY don’t get it. Yoongi~~ there are skinnier girls who would suit u better

Load 675 more...

You slam your laptop shut before fumbling for your phone. Breathing levelly, you’re the picture of eerie calm with the exception of the way your hands tremble. You pull up your text messages to text your best friend when you stop yourself. While the company knows that you’re dating, you’re not allowed to disclose any information about Yoongi or the relationship to any third parties. To the public he’s still single despite his dating clause having expired long before you even met. And there’s no way to explain what you’re going through to your friend without bringing up your secret boyfriend’s stardom.

So who can you turn to, you wonder. You can’t tell your friends. You can’t tell your mother either. As much as you love her, she’d spill the secret in minutes out of well-meaning pride. And there’s no way you can tell Yoongi.

Taking a deep breath in through your nose, you hold it for as long as you can before shoving a pillow over your face and screaming. All that’s left to show for the few minutes you spend screaming is the fact that you feel about 1% better and your now-hoarse voice. But the relief doesn’t last. The relief leaves room for heat to rise on your skin. Annoyance fills all your empty spaces. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and feel more anger.

Maybe you just aren’t working hard enough and people can just see that. Maybe you just aren’t being productive, you haven’t earned your spot yet. You hop off the bed and look around the room, almost frantic in your search for something to work on and actually improve.

Start with a deep clean, you tell yourself.

Two days later when Yoongi comes over, you’re still in the process of purging your tiny apartment.

“What’s all this,” he kicks gently at the garbage bags full of clothes littering the walkway to your bedroom. You jump at the sound of his voice, having forgotten that he mentioned coming over.

“I’m just doing some tidying up. I started with towel folding videos on YouTube and ended up realizing I have a hoarding problem.”

“I don’t think having dust bunnies under your bed counts as hoarding, but okay.” He searches for some space on your bed to sit in. The duvet’s surface is also covered in a mixture of old clothes and little knick knacks you’ve had since before you graduated college. “I didn’t realize you had so many clothes.”

You watch him pick up a spaghetti string top that you hadn’t gotten around to sorting yet. He gestures towards the two trash bags full of clothes on the floor.

“Put it in that one,” you point to the one furthest from the bed.

“Is this the donate pile?” He folds the shirt almost neatly and places it on the top of the other items with a sympathetic pat.

“Uh, no.”

“Then what is it? Looks like you already have everything you’re keeping,” he peers into your stocked closet.

“That’s actually the...inspiration pile,” you explain quietly.

“What?”

“It’s the stuff I'm gonna keep as motivation for me to lose weight.”

“Oh,” you’re surprised to see what looks like faint disappointment in Yoongi’s eyes as your words register. “I mean...makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean that’s one route you could take.”

“Is there another route?” You turn to face him fully from your spot on the ground with a confused smile. The shoes you were organizing lay unattended.

“Well, you could not lose the weight,” he shrugs.

You avert your gaze to the ceiling, as if the true meaning of his words will be scribed there. It sounds as though he’s suggesting you don’t try to get back down to where you were before the huge project your boss assigned you, but you figure that can’t be it.

“I just mean that you could donate these,” he points at the clothes in the inspiration pile. “Some of them look like they’re brand new—I’ve never even seen you in them. And you could just get some new clothes.”

“You mean like ones that fit me now?”

“Or like before.” He shrugs. “Your style was nice, I don’t know why you changed it.”

“It changed because nothing I had before fits now. So I have to wear this other stuff.” You’re talking about the shapeless sweaters and the monotonous greyscale pants.

“You don’t have to.”

He makes a valid point, but it’s a small one. Besides, there’s something else you’re digging for. “So you really think I should buy bigger clothes?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s so simple.

“Okay...but these clothes are supposed to be there to motivate me to lose the weight. If I just get a new wardrobe, that’ll mean the motivation is gone.”

“Okay,” he draws out the syllables while waiting to hear what your point is.

“That means I’ll stay like this.”

“What do you mean ‘like this’? What’s wrong with that?”

Your fists clench at your side as you think back to the photos of you in the club. And the comments from the netizens all saying roughly the same thing. With the puzzled way he stands there and looks at you, you feel another wave of frustration rise up. Did he really not see what was happening? Was he really going to make you say it?

“Hey,” he peers down at the veins rearing against the skin of your hands. “I mean it. What’s wrong?”

He gets up like the discussion is about to go somewhere but his phone ringing loudly with the little jingle reserved for one of his producer buddies stops the conversation in its tracks. You take this as a moment to shoo him out your place before your head explodes. Yoongi looks conflicted, he truly does. Still, he answers the call dutifully and gives a few affirmative words to assure that he is going to be at the studio soon and is ready to work. The call is short, but the mood is still tense like an angry, trapped breath.

“I have, like, 5 more minutes before I have to go—”

“You know what? Never mind. You’re clearly busy with studio stuff and I’m...busy too.”

With steely eyes, you take the clothes he was trying to help you with and add them to your own pile. He picks up the few things he brought with him in his brief visit and eyes you like he wants to say more. His gaze lingers over the sides of your face like a regretful touch and you turn to the side to shrug it off.

Another beep from his phone shatters the gossamer thin atmosphere further. He sighs and pulls his phone back out before hunching his shoulders.

“Can I use your laptop to check my email really quickly before I go? They just sent me a file and I can’t open it on my—”

“Yeah, yeah, just take it with you. I don’t need it,” you cut him off and wave a hand in the direction of your computer.

He looks almost upset when he gathers your laptop in his arms with the rest of his things, but doesn’t push the issue any further. The air is too tight for anything, even a genuine goodbye. Your throat is sore with oncoming angry tears and you just want him out.

The door shuts behind him softly, in place of the usual goodbye kiss. You wait until you know he’s gone let it all out.

*** Yoongi opens your laptop when he’s in the back of the car taking him to the studio. It takes him a minute to remember your password, but he logs on with minimal difficulty and the last thing you were looking at pops up obediently.

The rest of your break from work passes without a visit from Yoongi again. It’s not a coincidence. It’s because you turned your phone off for 48 hours and even after you turn it back on, you mute all other notifications and only look at it to check your work email and tell your friends that you’re ‘unplugging for a bit’.

In that time, you get all your clothes sorted. You burn through an entire fitness-based podcast series. You declutter your whole apartment. But there’s still an unpleasant buzzing under your skin that doesn’t go away. Even with the reintroduction of at-home cardio and the shady water fast you did that promised a lifted mood and a loss of 2 pounds.

Then you’re home from work one day, and you find yourself pacing all around the rooms of your place. You’re fed up with bottling things up, but you don’t know what to do with this knowledge. Yes, it’s nice to realize that everything you’d been chasing wasn’t worth the torture you put yourself through, but you can’t seem to get any further. So you try baking. And when that doesn’t put you at ease immediately, you break down and call Yoongi.

Yoongi picks up immediately. Part of you is surprised because he’s been working on new mixtape stuff and when that happens he’s usually unreachable. But another part of you isn’t surprised because, to him, you dropped off the face of the earth after a near-argument and he’s still technically on break from promotions for a little while longer. There’s no reason not to be answering the phone. In spite of all this, his tone is a tentative mix of concern and relief that has you blinking in confusion before curtly telling him you wanted to talk at your place.

He arrives in a defensive cocoon of layers and squared off features. Only one of the two he sheds at the coat rack by your front door before going to find you in the kitchen, just finishing shoving dozens of muffins into the oven.

“Hey,” he says after clearing his throat to make his presence known.

“Hey.” You turn around and remove the oven mitts you’re wearing. “We need to talk about some things.”

“I know,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I saw that shit on your computer.”

Your brow furrows in thought as you recall the last thing you used your laptop for. Recollection comes eventually. Briefly you wonder if Yoongi read past the top comments. If he gave into the urge to comb through every single one to satisfy morbid curiosity. You nod.

“It definitely has to do with that.”

“Fuck what those people are saying. You don’t need to change or to—to keep an inspiration pile.”

At that, you groan. Your fingers tap on the countertop impatiently. “Can you please stop saying stuff like that?”

“What? That you’re perfect the way you are?” He spits.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not true.”

“Why wouldn’t it be true?”

Frustrated tears well up in the corners of your eyes because while you get that this isn’t an issue he’d ever have to worry about, part of you still don’t understand how he doesn’t get it. He’s trying so hard to be a good, romantic boyfriend that he doesn’t even see how much he misses. It’s supposed to be comforting, you’re sure, but it only infuriates you.

“Because I don’t fucking match you like this!”

He jumps at the sound of your raised voice, eyes wide. “Match me? What the hell?”

“You heard me,” you mumble.

“Yeah, I fucking heard you, but it still doesn’t make any sense. You’re not signed to some stupid contract, you’re not mandated to do anything with your body.”

“Haven’t I, though? I signed that fucking non-disclosure agreement after all. And I get a fucking angry call from your PR agents every time I show up in your pap photos, even though my face is never in them.” At this point you’re pacing again. This time it’s in tight circles in front of your fridge. “You said it yourself, you saw those awful comments. You saw how mad people get when I don’t show myself in just the right way. Those fans ripped me apart, Yoongi.” Your voice cracks and you curse yourself for being an angry crier. Crossing your arms around yourself, you try your best to beat back the tears.

“So you’re going to let a few fans tell you how to feel?”

“A few fans?” You’re close to laughter. “Try six hundred comments on one photo. Six hundred comments about the person who isn’t even the celebrity. And then multiply that by the number of times someone’s caught me at an unflattering angle or when I was bloating or when I started gaining weight back for real. Do the fucking math, Yoongi.”

That shuts him down instantly. Immediately worry replaces the incredulity. “I—how many times has this happened? Is this not the first time?”

You sigh at his ignorance. “No, but this is first time I was dumb enough to read the comments.”

“Why didn’t you say anything the first time something like this happened?” Yoongi’s face is full of distraught guilt. It’s hard for you to look at.

“What do you want me to say? Did you really want to hear me say all this stuff about some of your fans? These are people that love you. And you love them.”

“I love you, too. You know that,” he whispers, voice raw with emotion.

You can only sigh again because you do know. He does love you. He loves you perhaps too much. At this point, it seems like he’s so infatuated with you that he can’t fathom that people would have issues with you. But he’s also so in love with his career that you don’t have the heart to show him the things you’re facing. The dissonance would be too much to add to his already-full plate. And knowing Yoongi, he might do something stupid and get himself in trouble with his own fans. You’d hate to be the cause of something like that in his career.

The oven beeps and you use that as an excuse to escape the way his eyes shine as he contemplates just how much he wasn’t aware of until now.

He leans on the doorframe to watch you pull out the muffins from the oven and drop them unceremoniously onto the stovetop. The muffins are perfectly golden-brown and give off a warm, sweet scent that fills the kitchen quickly. You stand silent with your back to him, shoulders rising with the careful breaths you’re forcing yourself to take.

“Do you still love me,” his voice is small when it floats over to you.

“Ughh,” you claw at your face with your oven mitts. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have asked you over if I didn’t. But...you have to understand that this is hard for me.”

“And what is ‘this’?

You turn and lean back against the counter, gesturing vaguely with a gloved hand. “This idol thing.” He tilts his head, not understanding. “I just mean that you have this amazing image because you’re out in the spotlight and I don’t want to sully that for you by...not looking like I should.”

“Why do you care about what other people think so much?”

“That’s so easy for you to say when people love you and you look like that. It’s different for regular people.” Your voice cracks once more as the shine lighting up your eyes breaks and runs down your cheeks. “It’s different because I’m already not deserving of you in their eyes. I can’t be regular and not look perfect.”

His hard demeanor softens at the sound of your sniffles and he comes to pull you into his chest, smoothing over your back. “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”

“I know that,” you sob. “I know that there’s nothing wrong with me, but you’ve seen what people say on those stupid forums. No amount of self-confidence could protect anyone from that shit.”

“Can I ask you something,” he says softly after a few aching moments of listening to you try to rein in your breathing.

“Y-yeah.”

“Who are the most important people in your life?”

“Huh?” You look up at him with watery lashes and he wonders how you could ever find fault with what you see in the mirror.

“Whose opinion matters to you most?”

“I don’t know,” you rub wet cheeks against the fabric of his top and think. “My boss since he pays me, obviously. And coworkers, I guess. My friends, definitely. My family, although they’re pretty easy to ignore.” He snorts. “A-and you,” you add on at the end hastily.

He gives you a sad smile when you look up at him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean...doesn’t how you feel matter? You just listed a bunch of other people.”

“Of course what I feel matters,” you say suddenly. You push back from him to clear your head. The tears have stopped flowing, though your cheeks are still wet. “I just can’t go through the world only ever hearing or caring about what I think. But I like myself, Yoongi.”

He nods seriously.

“Even if it doesn’t seem like it because I’m shy sometimes, or quiet. I like myself. But it still hurts to have people tell me they think I shouldn’t. I’m not the type of person who doesn’t react when people attempt to hurt me. That’s the part that hurts the most, I think. Knowing that it was their goal all along.”

“I get that. Or,” He purses his lips, “I think I do. I want to get it, anyway.”

You give him a weak smile because he’s cute, even in moments like this.

He squeezes your hand before bringing it to his lips. It’s not quite a kiss, just him brushing his lips against your skin while he talks. “But I still want to be there for you. And I hate that I could only guess when you were hurting.”

“I should have told you, but I was embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He moves back to pull up a chair at your dining room table. His gaze is genuine and engaged as he looks to you for an answer.

“I’ve been dieting since the company approved us dating privately. This is the first time I’ve been...normal around you. I was worried you’d have this epiphany. That I’m not who you thought I was.”

“Do you remember the first night we met,” he asks all of the sudden.

“Yeah? You came to visit me at work and freaked my supervisor out. She still has that napkin you autographed.”

“That’s not the first night we met,” he shakes his head and chuckles. “We first met at my party. The one your cousin brought you to.”

“Oh, god. I hardly remember that, I was so drunk. I think I blocked it out.”

“You looked like this back then,” he smiles softly at you, memories of that night settling over the surroundings as they play out in front of him.

“Yeah, I know,” you nod softly, eyes averted.

“And you were so pretty that night too.” His gaze turns slightly salacious. “In that little shiny dress you wore—what ever happened to that?”

“You’re dumb,” you shove him with a simpering smile. He merely grins before pulling you slightly closer towards where he’s seated at the kitchen table.

“You still have it?”

“Oh my god, leave me alone.”

He leans into your space, making you duck your head to hide the way your cheeks flare up at his personal attention. Seeing you like this makes something coil in his belly. In due time, he thinks as he backs off. In due time, he’ll really give it to you. But in the meantime he behaves and doesn’t do anything more than intertwine your fingers together.

“I’m donating the clothes from the inspiration bag,” you mumble into his hair.

He pulls back and is careful to keep his face neutral. “Yeah?”

“I did a lot of thinking. And I realized that I don’t think I can say I really like myself if I keep forcing myself into this...mold.”

His brows furrow, lips pouting prettily as he focuses on following your train of thought. “So, what does that mean now?”

“So, this is me. For a long time probably, unless something major happens. I’m telling you so it can sink in. This is your out.”

“Okay,” he stands up from his chair slowly. Large, warm hands come to cup your face tenderly. “And this is me telling you I don’t want an out.”

“Okay,” you breathe out a sigh of relief so deep you don’t know where it came from.

“Glad that much is worked out,” he says before planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Can I have a muffin?”

You roll your eyes but go and get a plate from the cabinet. He watches you carefully as you hesitate at the oven before gingerly putting two muffins on the plate. When you return to the table, you mumble something about just wanting to see if they came out good and he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a bite of one of your rare instances of culinary genius. He lets out a moan that makes your eyes widen and you take a bite before nodding to yourself.

“Just open a bakery already,” he says with a semi-full mouth and reaches out with grabby hands until you get the message to leave your chair. He pulls you into his lap and you try not to feel too self-conscious as you settle your thighs on top of his own. His hand lands on top of your lap casually, large hands splaying out on top to squeeze affectionately at the softness he finds there.

You worry you’re cutting off the blood supply to his legs but he sits happily with you in his lap and even kicks a little rhythm out while finishing his muffin. You get up and he snags the untouched part of your muffin before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

There’s a stream of messages in the group chat asking about his whereabouts and what he wants to do tonight. He answers that he’s with you and the other members all complain about how long it’s been since you visited them. Jungkook even tells Yoongi to bring you over to his place since they’re having a small kickback with just themselves and your post-break workload is still light. He purses his lips and asks for a raincheck, not wanting to push you into being on just yet.

***

A few days pass and the messages get more and more annoying as the other members whine about not having seen neither Yoongi nor you in far too long. So during one of the last days of their break, while he’s trying to dictate a cookie recipe to you, he breaks down at the 13th ping from his phone in a short period.

“Do you want to come hang out with me and the guys tonight?”

Normally if you’re invited over, you jump at the chance because you love getting out of your apartment and you like seeing Yoongi in his element with the people he’s closest to. But you don’t jump on the invitation now because it’s been so long since you last saw the guys and you know that you looked different then.

“I don’t know,” you fold toasted almonds into the cookie dough.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” you sigh. “And as nice as they are, I don’t really want to deal with the ‘did you do something with your hair’ or ‘wow you look so different’ comments.”

“They’re not gonna say that, they’re not total assholes. Look, if anyone says or does anything stupid, I’ll rip them a new one and take you back here.”

You purse your lips while you think it over. “And then will you stay the night?”

“If something stupid happens, I’ll cancel my studio appointment and stay over,” he smiles at you, eyes crinkling. “I’ll tell them we’re on our way now.”

“I can’t leave now,” your hands flutter up as you go from 0 to 60. “I’m a mess, I need to—”

“It’s just the guys. There’s literally no one there worth impressing. I would know.”

“Fine,” you groan. “Just let me change. I’m covered in flour.”

In your room, you find yourself unsure of what to put on. You no longer have any of the clothes you used to wear when you needed to feel like you objectively looked good. But you do have the gorgeous leggings Yoongi gifted you. You switch out your current shirt for a cleaner one and slip on a pair you’ve become obsessed with.

Yoongi punches in the code to the front door of Jungkook’s apartment while you hold the tin of cookies you made. Your fingers slip against the container due to having grown a bit clammy on the ride over. It took a heinous amount of time to wrap them in a way that would keep them warm all during the ride across the city. And now you’re nervous despite the fact that Yoongi sensed it in the car and hurled reassurance after reassurance at you.

But when Namjoon pulls the door open and greets both of you with a smile and a hug and no weird looks, you let out a tiny sigh of relief.

The guys crowd around you after Yoongi announces that you baked. Hoseok mumbles to himself about Yoongi hiding you purposefully so he could hoard your baking and takes two cookies for good measure. Jungkook says thank you politely before splitting one with Jimin. Taehyung takes two for himself and Namjoon and tells you ‘welcome back’. While the rest of the members snack, you count off the remaining sweets in the container and realize you didn’t give any to Jin.

The oldest member is standing in the hallway, drinking from a glass of water and scrolling through his phone when you find him. He must not have gotten the memo that you arrived, so you make your presence known by softly clearing your throat.

“Long time no see,” you smile at Jin.

He peers at you over the rim of his glass for a few long beats and you work to keep your smile natural. You can’t help but worry that he’s looking at the way you’ve has changed since he last saw you, chiseling away at the outside to see the familiar you he knows underneath.

“I guess it has been,” he finally says when he drains his glass. He leans back to rest his back on the wall. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, um, they’re just some cookies I made today. Yoongi had been bugging me about making them and I gave some to the others. I just thought I’d see if you wanted any.”

“I’ve always liked your baking.” He reaches out and plucks a cookie from the tin. A second later half of the cookie is gone. He chews thoughtfully.

“This is a new recipe, so I don’t know if it’s as good as it could be. I haven’t had much time for experimenting in the kitchen with work up until now so they might be—”

“I can only imagine how good they were when they first came out of the oven,” he finishes the rest and cuts your rambling off.

You stand there, oddly nervous, while he chews. When he finishes, he watches you fiddle with the lid so the cookies don’t get stale.

“Something’s changed about you,” Jin says finally, his eyes moving from your hair to your toes. You nearly drop the tin in your fumbling, and cringe from both the comment and your clumsiness.

“Yeah, I... gained some weight recently,” you blurt out in the hopes that it’ll be less uncomfortable if you’re the one to say it. But it’s not.

“Hmm,” Jin’s eyes rove over you more thoroughly, making you stand ramrod straight. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s something else, I think.”

“Oh. Well I don’t know, then.”

“What’s going on,” Yoongi’s voice creeps into the mix.

When you turn your head, you’re greeted with the sight of Yoongi in the doorway. He looks comfortably settled against the doorframe, like he’s been there for a while. His gaze isn’t directed at you, but at Jin, you realize. A quick glance back shows that they’re both looking at one another.

“Nothing. We were just talking.” Jin shrugs before walking over to you. A hand on the small of your back brings you with him and up to Yoongi.

Yoongi fixes Jin with a narrowed stare. “The guys were wondering where you both were. They want to play a game together.”

“We were here. No need to worry about us.”

“Well, why don’t you go in and tell them that? I’m gonna speak with my girlfriend.”

Jin gives him an amused smile before giving you a two-fingered captain’s salute and heading to the living room. It might have seemed dorky if anyone had done it, but you marvel over how cool he makes the gesture look. Yoongi turns to you then and takes in your distant expression.

“He didn’t say or do anything to make you uncomfortable, did he? Jin sometimes is a total asshole.”

“No, he—well, he said I looked different.”

“Do you want me to beat him up,” he steps forward to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Because I can, just say the word.”

“It’s really okay. He said it wasn’t just the weight. That it was something else.”

Yoongi’s lips thin as he tries to look for some other message in your words. “I don’t know what the hell that means.”

“It probably didn’t mean anything bad. Just let it go.”

Yoongi nods but takes both your hands in his to kiss them. You lead the way to the living room, feeling a little more like you can handle the night. There’s not much space with all seven members and you. You end up seated away from Yoongi, on the couch between Jungkook and Jin.

Somehow you get roped into playing some Mario game with two teams. You don’t know anything about video games, but you listen to Jungkook’s instructions carefully when you get one of the controllers because he’s one of your teammates. You’re not very good, though. Jin, your team captain, eventually has to maneuver his hands over yours so your character does the right thing.

“You sure you didn’t change your makeup style or something,” Jin asks during one of the rounds where you’re supposed to be playing against Hoseok.

The question takes you by surprise and you turn toward the sound of his voice only to realize just how close he is when he’s acting as a gaming coach of sorts.

“Uh, no. Why?”

“Dunno,” he doesn’t look at you while he converses with you. He’s watching the screen with a hawk-like focus. “You just look prettier than I remember.”

You stutter around nothing, not sure what to say. In the end you settle for saying nothing, though you do spare Yoongi a glance. His gaze must have already been directed at you because you make eye contact immediately. Knowing that he’s probably just making sure you’re having an okay time, you give him a thumbs up and attempt to make Kirby spin on the large screen in front of you.

The night stays that same level of odd. No one else does anything out of the ordinary, barring Jin. He’s strangely attentive even after you get the hang of playing enough to take full control of the controller. After that point, he still slings an arm across the back of the couch, which makes full contact with your shoulders because of how tightly packed you all are on the couch. And when he wants your attention, he makes a habit of brushing his hand down your arm and sometimes leaving it there.

You figure you just don’t spend enough time with Jin to get used to him. But you’ve seen enough interactions between him and the younger members to know how touchy-feely they are with each other. Maybe you’re just enough of an extension of Yoongi to be included in that touching. So you try your hardest not to question it. It’s just nice to know you've been accepted that much and you start to lean into the touch like you would with your own friends.

Soon enough you’re taking part in the high fives that melt into hand holding when you score a goal.

‘Quite a feat for a beginner’, Jin tells you.

Yoongi watches from across the room as your face lights up once again from Jin’s praise. You look like you’re having wholesome fun and the urge to interrupt that is what kills him. But what kills him more is the way Jin’s thumb strokes gently against the curve of your flank as he gestures to something on the screen while Jungkook takes a turn with the controller.

He didn’t think he was the jealous type, but when Taehyung orders pizza one painful hour later, Yoongi’s come to the realization that he’s much more selfish than he knew. Jin whines until you let him feed you a bite of the pepperoni pizza on his plate, knowing you’re too nice to say no. You think this is run of the mill behavior, but even Jimin raises his eyebrows at the display before peering at Yoongi’s furious profile.

The last straw, though, is when Jin wipes a trickle of grease from the corner of your mouth and waits until you’ve turned your head to say something to Jungkook before sucking the residue off. At that, Yoongi stands up abruptly, nearly toppling over the empty box that was near his knees.

“It’s getting late,” he answers the curious stares watching him trudge over to you. “We should head out now if we still want to get back to your place at a decent hour.”

“Oh,” your eyes are wide, “You don’t have to. I know you wanted to do your thing in the studio tomorrow. I should be fine on my own,” you hint back to the promise he made to stay over if the night was a bust.

“I changed my plans already, so I’ll go later in the week. Come on, let’s call a car and go.”

“I can drive you guys. I brought my car,” Jin offers suddenly. His arm is back to resting behind your shoulders. And because his fingers are close enough to graze your shoulder, they do.

“You really don’t have to,” Yoongi bites out. His stare is potent with silent accusation.

“Yoongi, why not? Jin’s place is across the bridge from mine. It actually makes some sense, and I was getting kinda tired. If we wait for a car, I might not be able to get up early enough to go to that brunch spot you mentioned.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jin claps his hands with finality and gets up from the couch before extending his hand out to you. Much to Yoongi’s chagrin, you take his hand like it’s a genuine gesture of chivalry.

Jin somehow manages to get you to sit up in the passenger’s seat with him, leaving Yoongi to fume in the backseat. Occasionally Jin’s eyes will meet his in the rear view mirror and they’ll crinkle with impish amusement before returning to caressing your silhouette.

“So,” Jin says once he gets on the freeway. “Is our Yoongi treating you good?”

You laugh because you don’t see the game at play. “Of course he is. He’s the best boyfriend I could have asked for.” Yoongi’s resolve softens momentarily at your sincere tone. “I love him, even when he gets weird like tonight.” That comment has Jin cackling.

“You know,” he says once his laughter dwindles down, “I actually had the flu the day of Yoongi’s party. The day you guys met.”

“That explains why I didn’t actually see you there. I remember everyone else being there, though.” You gaze wistfully out the window. “I was too shy to talk to any of you guys then.”

“That’s okay. If I had been there, I would have talked to you.”

“That would have been a fun night, I bet.”

“Yeah,” he makes sure Yoongi’s looking in the rearview mirror. “Who knows how close we’d be today if I hadn’t gotten sick.”

Yoongi’s cheek nearly bleeds with force of his teeth gnawing on the inside. If he could, he’d reach forward and throttle Jin. But he’s driving so that’s not an option.

The torture doesn’t last much longer because about 10 minutes later you’re directing Jin to the parking garage of your apartment complex. The goodbyes are annoyingly drawn out and Jin manages to invite himself to brunch the next morning. All the while, Yoongi stands behind you, dying to get inside and away from the eldest member.

Finally, the door gets slammed shut before Jin can say something stupid about seeing you both tomorrow. Yoongi gives the door a smug look and then turns to catch a flash of your eyebrows raised in amusement. His eyes narrow and he approaches you slowly as you shrug off your layers in an almost too mundane way.

“What’s so funny,” he drawls. He attempts to peer at your face only for you to keep whipping it away every time he gets too close.

“Nothing,” you turn and give him your back while you smooth over your already made bed. “It’s just interesting watching you with Jin. I never really get to see you guys together.”

“What’s interesting about it?”

Yoongi starts unbuttoning his own outer layers with painstaking care, giving you ample time to twitch under the weight of his gaze. You fight to keep a smile from sneaking onto your face, but it’s too hard and you let your lips turn up in a little grin. He can’t see it, but he can hear it in your voice.

“You’re just cute when you’re mad.”

A muscle in Yoongi’s jaw jumps.

“You noticed that I was mad, huh?” He shirks off his jacket roughly, sulking in his subtle way. Luckily—or perhaps not luckily—you’ve come to recognize it well.

“I did.” Your voice is high and steady as you remove your sweater, leaving you in a soft and worn t-shirt. “I’ll admit it was entertaining. A little bit.”

“Is that so?” He hums.

“I mean, I don't know what you were mad about. But I could tell it wasn’t about something serious.”

He merely nods and watches you fidget. You peer at him through the side of your eye and see him meticulously undoing the clasp of his watch. From the way he moves slowly through the process of undressing for bed, you can tell something’s coming.

“Let me ask you something, then.”

“O-okay.”

“Is Jin still your favorite?”

“Are you kidding?”

You have to stop hunting for pajamas at your dresser and turn to him to see if he’s in fact kidding. But he looks dangerously serious, and you have to fight to keep your eyes from rolling.

“That’s what this is about? All this sulky Yoongi is because of that?”

“Just answer the question,” he shrugs his shoulders lightly.

Supposedly he’s calm and collected and not jealous, but his eyes are sharp as they zero in on you. Easily, he pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on. The steps he takes toward you are measured and slow. You still find yourself holding your breath as he comes to sit benignly on the bed across from you. It’s something he does sometimes when you’re getting dressed or undressed. Because ‘he likes the view’, he usually says. But tonight it makes you grab the first thing that you find out of your pajama drawer so you’re not leaving your back vulnerable.

“Of course he’s not my favorite anymore. I haven’t felt that way since before we got together.”

“I was just wondering.”

“Yoongi,” you sigh and pull the old t-shirt off to replace it with a sleep shirt. “When you asked me who my favorite was half a year ago I didn’t realize you were flirting with me. And I didn’t really know much about the group either.”

He nods like he thinks what you’ve said is completely reasonable and you stuff your legs through some of your yoga pants roughly. When you finish, you’re still standing defensively on the other side of the room. He looks up at you and beckons you over without a word. You feel compelled to move forward. Unsure of what would happen if you didn’t humor him.

When you’re finally approaching the V of his parted legs, he motions for you to sit next to him on the bed. You do.

“You know,” he begins slowly, “You looked like you were having a great time tonight.”

“Oh,” you blink. “Yeah, I was having fun. Even though it took a while for me to win a round. And even then I think Hoseok might have let me win.”

“Was Jin a good teacher?”

“Yeah, he was a good teacher.”

“I bet he was. He had a good student. He looked like he was enjoying himself.”

“Maybe,” you tap your finger on your chin pensively. “It didn’t seem like he hated having to show me how to play.”

“No, trust me, he was enjoying it.” Yoongi’s tone dips audibly, and you stop yourself when you realize what he’s implying.

“God, Yoongi, stop it. It wasn’t like that. He was just being nice.”

“I’ve known Jin a long time. I know what he looks like when he’s flirting. It started as soon as you walked through the door.”

“That’s crazy,” you mumble. But then you think of all the lingering touches and glances again and it clicks. “He...he was probably just trying to rile you up. Jin likes to mess with people sometimes. You’re always saying that.”

Yoongi pins you with an odd look. It’s partly amused, partly pitying. Then it turns cold. “You know, Jin’s been sweet on you since I first introduced you. The first night you met, he told me he used to date someone who looked a bit like you when he was younger, before debuting.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper again.

“You really didn’t know?” Yoongi leans in so the words practically brush against the skin of your cheek. “He was shoving himself all over you the whole night and you didn’t notice?”

You shake your head, at a loss for words. His hand finds its way to your opposite arm, pulling you closer to him.

“Hmm,” he hums in acknowledgment.

Then Yoongi’s lips are pressing gently to the skin of your neck. There’s a hint of something in the kisses that makes them feel a bit too heated to be chaste. At first you think it’s gratitude, but when you turn your head to meet his lips with your own, it’s clear that it’s not just that. His tongue snakes in between your lips, and you let it happen as you turn the evening’s events over in your memory.

“Yoongi,” you whisper between kisses.

“Hmm?” His large hands are splayed low over the swell of your back, a pinky finger just barely dipping under the waistband of your pants.

“I think I did know.”

“Huh?”

“I think as soon as he said that thing in the car—about being in your place—I knew he wasn’t just being friendly anymore.”

“Yeah?” he mumbles against your lips.

Taking you by surprise, he pushes deeper into your mouth until he’s stealing your breath. His lips are plush but insistent. And you’re conflicted. But suddenly he’s pulling away with a damp mouth and a firm grasp on your hip.

“You knew and made me sit through all that and then invited him to brunch in front of me?” He nips at your lax mouth. “That’s not very nice.”

“I know,” you sigh.

“Don’t you think you should be punished, then?” When you pull away looking like he’s grown a second head, he shrugs mildly and like he didn’t just threaten to take you over his knee. “Or not. Your choice.”

#bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #yoonginetwork #hyunglinenetwork #btswriters #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #bangtan scenarios #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Time travel rescue pt.2; 11th Doctor x teen reader ft. Queen

*Author’s note*

Okay ya’ll so I hope you enjoyed the first part, now we get to pt.2 where Freddie and Roger take up majority of this chapter, so you get to see the craziness that I hoped I managed to get in based off of stories of their friendship and videos of them together so I hope I did this wonderful soulmate shipping justice. However fair warning that P**l Pr**ter makes his appearance so prepare your stomachs.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

@bensrhapsody

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie

@geek-and-proud

____________________________________________________

The next morning I woke up and found myself in a hotel room of sorts. At first I didn’t know what happened, it was all such a rush last night I—I had this dream that I had gone back to 1975 and actually met my favorite band, and that Roger actually allowed me to sleep in his room.

“Morning (y/n).” I heard that familiar soft voice call out from the kitchen. Oh god it wasn’t a dream. I am actually in 1975 and I really did—or well currently meeting the band and Roger did give me his room for the night. I looked up and said.

“Morning Roger.”

“How’d you sleep last night? The clothes work okay for you?” he asked.

“Yeah they—they worked out fine.”

“You hungry? I’m making eggs and cutting up some bread and bacon, I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s fine. I’m—actually quite hungry.”

“Well come on over to the kitchen and I’ll put an extra plate.” I got out of the bed and followed him to the kitchen. I sat down at the kitchen island bar and he said again, “I don’t know how you like your eggs, so I made them scrambled which is what I prefer. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Well then you’re lucky that scrambled eggs is my favorite. Besides sunny side up makes me yack.”

“I know right, why do people claim that’s the best way to make eggs?” he exclaimed. Wow so Roger Taylor and I have the same view on how eggs should be prepared, that’s amazing. He handed me my plate and he asked. “Shall I prepare a cuppa?”

“I wouldn’t mind a cuppa.”

“Coming right up.” He then prepared me my drink while he had some coffee. As the two of us sat down around the island and ate he asked me. “How are the wounds?”

“Doesn’t hurt as much as it did last night. You and your friends really know how to be doctors.”

“Well even though Brian and I would’ve been different doctors, I don’t think we did too bad. But I will need to change out the bandages and put some more antiseptic cream on it. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Whatever you think is best Roger.”

After breakfast, he put away the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen and that’s when he grabbed the first aid kit under the sink and guided me over to the couch.

“Alright, let’s see how this looks.” He then took a pair of scissors and slightly snipped an area of the bandage before slowly unwrapping it allowing my arm to breathe. Once the bandages were off, I could see the gnarly scars that I now bore on my arm. Long and thin but thankfully not so deep that I need stitches. “Well it seems to be closing up quite nicely. With how bad they were yesterday, I was beginning to think they wouldn’t. At least not in this speed.”

“Guess I just got enhanced healing powers or something.” I joked. He smiled and rubbed some more cream on my scars before taking another roll of bandages and wrapping it around my arm. Just as he was about to finish, the door suddenly opened and there stood Freddie all dolled up and ready to head out.

“Let’s go my darlings it’s shopping time!”

“In a second Fred, I’m still wrapping up her arm.” Roger told him as he went back to wrapping my forearm delicately. Freddie came over and sat on the other side of me and he asked me.

“Did you sleep okay dear?”

“Yeah, like a baby actually.”

“Good. That’s just what you needed after what happened to you. But are you sure you don’t want to make a police report about this?” he said as he stroked his fingers through my hair. Aww Freddie god bless you, why were you taken away from us so soon? We really could’ve used you in today’s society.

“I’m sure Fred. Besides I doubt they’d believe me. I didn’t even see their faces. They wore black masks over their faces so I couldn’t even see their faces.”

“Alright darling. Well once blondie’s done here, I know just the thing to help boost your spirits up. A nice, well deserved shopping day.”

“There, I’m done.”

“Marvelous my darlings, let’s go!” Freddie stood up gracefully and raised his hands over his head and clapped them once.

“Hold on you rotter, we still need to get dressed. I’d rather not go out in my pajamas in the bloody cold.” Roger guided me towards the bedroom once more and I said to him.

“Uhh Rog. What am I gonna wear?”

“Just relax love, I’m sure I got something.” He went through his closet and pulled out a pair of denim jeans as well as a queen hoodie that looked like he had taken from Deacy. He also took out a fur coat and said. “Will this do?”

“Yeah. Again I really appreciate you sharing your clothes with me.”

“Like I said last night, it’s no trouble. When Queen was first starting off, we barely had enough money to buy new clothes so we pretty much shared clothes with each other. I think we each had a chance at wearing one shirt for different photoshoots on separate occasions.”

“Wow I—I never knew that.” Liar. Of course I knew that, I’ve seen the pictures of the guys wearing the same shirts on tumblr that someone posted. Once again I got changed in the loo and once I got out, Roger went inside and proceeded to do his health and beauty stuff.

While he brushed his teeth and brushing through his long blonde hair, I couldn’t help but stare at him. Now I’ll admit, I did fall for the handsome 1970’s Roger Taylor (in fact 70’s and 80’s Roger I had a crush on) but then my crush slowly faded away and turned to something else, it’s like I—kinda pictured a sorta brother-sister relationship.

“Could you take any longer getting ready Rog? I swear you take longer than me!” Freddie complained as he leaned up against the bedroom door.

“It’s called a miracle Fred. And envy is an ugly thing on you.” Roger teased to which Freddie flipped him the bird. God they really were soulmates, I can’t imagine just how hurt Roger was finding out Fred died when he was just about to see him in a matter of minutes.

“Are we ready to go yet?” Freddie whined as Roger fluffed his hair out and shook his wild mess of hair like a lion shaking his mane and said.

“Alright you impatient bugger. Let’s go (y/n).” I was then put in between them and we left Roger’s room.

As we drove through downtown London, we soon came across a shop that closed down before my time but it was starting grounds for both Roger and Freddie, Kensington Market.

“Hope you don’t mind coming here love. We would take you to Biba but that’s all the way on East London and we’re scheduled for a rehearsal by noon.” Roger said.

“I don’t mind. I’ve—heard some good things about this place.”

“You know Rog and I once had a stall in this joint together before I officially joined the band.”

“Really? What did you guys sell?”

“Oh any old clothes that we could find. Though I’ll never forget that jacket you and Brian tried to sell. That was my favorite jacket.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have had it on the rack then, should you?” Roger mocked as he shut the engine off after finding a parking space. “Plus it’ll be cheap and not as crowded as the stores are right now. Last minute Christmas shoppers and all.”

“Agreed.” We all got out and quickly walked inside the market. And inside I saw anything and everything. From antiques, to bridal wear, clothes, furniture, everything small and large you could imagine. “Whoa.”

“I know it’s a little intimidating at first but no worries lovie, you’ll get used to it.” Roger said as he wrapped an arm around me.

“Alright my darlings, let’s head down memory lane. To the clothing stall!” Freddie then dragged us down the store almost towards the end of the building where a clothing stall was all set up. Behind the counter there was a young black woman with an afro, she wore a Christmas sweater and jeans and was sucking on a lollipop. “Well I’ll be damned. Billie. Billie Tyler?” she looked up and grinned.

“Oh shit no. Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor! Never did I think I’d see you two bastards here again.” She grinned.

“So you’re working our stall now?” Roger asked.

“Yeah. Ever since you two boys got all rich and famous, I went ahead and took over the stall.”

“Well hate to burst your bubble but we’re still not rich and famous.” Said Roger.

“What? After all the big success you guys did at the Rainbow last year?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t get paid on our tours. In fact just recently we left our first company because they screwed up our payments. Our manager didn’t even want to give any money so that Deacy could marry Veronica.”

“What?! Those stuck up bastards! I hope Deacy got the wedding he deserved though.”

“It was a small court ceremony but it was still sweet. Although had we had the money, I would’ve planned the perfect wedding for them.” Said Freddie.

“Oh please Fred, you’d invite half of London along with all crazy people you invite to the after parties.” Said Roger.

“So who’s this? Little groupie?” she asked gesturing towards me.

“No. This is (y/n).” Roger said introducing me. “(Y/n), this is Billie Tyler. When Fred and I worked here, she worked at the boutique just across from us. We’d hang out and have lunch on our breaks, she was basically our first fan.”

“Nice to meet you Billie.” I said reaching out a hand to her. She shook my hand immediately and she said.

“Nice to meet you too (y/n). How’d you come across these two lugs?”

“Poor dear got jumped last night, thankfully Rog was around to help her out.” Said Fred as he placed a hand to my shoulder.

“Oh my god—are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a really bad scratch along my forearm but nothing too bad.”

“Well I would’ve honestly preferred to run into Bri had I been jumped but I’m glad you had Roger to help you out.” Roger looked at her crossly and she playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “So what brings you three here to Kensington market?”

“Well darling, we were hoping to get (y/n) some clothes. She—kinda came with just one set of clothes and has been sharing Roger’s style since last night. So we’re hoping you might have something that just screams her.”

“I think I might have some stuff. Come with me (y/n) and we can get you out of those boy clothes and into some stylish clothes I have.” She took my uninjured arm and pulled me into the stall and took me towards the changing room she had installed in the back room.

It was then I was given the full 1970’s fashion show. Both Billie and Freddie practically took me and started treating me like a doll, forcing me to try on clothes, hats, coats, bell bottom jeans, the whole nine yards.

“And I’m telling you it’s flea-bitten Fred. I wouldn’t even dream of someone wearing that!” exclaimed Billie dramatically.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic darling, I think (y/n) would look cute in this.” He said holding up a ragged old fur coat that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in years.

“You guys do realize she’s a person. Not a doll, let her speak for herself once in a while.” Roger said. He turned towards me and mouthed out, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I waved it off.

“Alright then, why don’t we ask (y/n) what she’d like?”

“Yes let’s. (Y/n) darling please tell Billie and that devil mind of hers that you’d want this coat over the decade’s old 60’s coat. This just screams you.”

“Ah, ah, ah! No antagonizing the fashion star here Mercury.” Billie warned him.

“Actually guys, something did catch my eye earlier.” I then hopped off the podium and went over to a large brown jacket that had fur ends on both the sleeves and along where the front part meets with the zipper.

It had an elegant pattern on it, kinda reminded me of old Norwegian drawings that I once saw back in 1031 when the Doctor and I were helping out against the threat the invading reindeer people (I forgot their real names, plus it was in Norwegian tongue so I just called them the reindeer people).

But anyways, I looked cute and it wouldn’t make me stand out as much. I picked out a cute sweater, a scarf that almost kinda resembled what the Doctor could’ve worn, and one of the many pairs of bellbottom jeans I was given.

“How’s this?”

“Oh my darling, it’s like looking at a Renaissance painting. You are—phenomenal.” Freddie praised.

“But something’s missing.” Billie said. She then went over to the hats and picked out dark grey flat cap. She handed me the hat and I placed it on top of my head. “There. Now you’re an aesthetic.”

And that was that. I got a few sweaters, a couple of turtlenecks, bell bottomed jeans, some boots similar to what Deacy always wore throughout the 1970’s, and any brown furred or faux fur coat that Billie had. When everything was rung up, Roger asked.

“Okay how much do we owe you Billie?”

“For you guys it’s on the house.”

“Oh no, no, no darling we’ve got some money to spend now since we left the bastard at Trident and switched to EMI. Now how much?”

“I’m feeling generous today. Plus I hadn’t done a fashion show like that in years. Most customers just demand my stuff and that’s it. So this time it’s on me. But if you want a payment, come by next week after the New Year.” Freddie and Roger looked to each other and that’s when Freddie said.

“Throw in you coming to my New Year’s Eve party and you’ve got a deal darling.”

“It’s a deal Freddie.” They leaned in and kissed each other’s cheeks sealing the deal. “Good luck with the concert guys, I’ll be watching it from home. And it was nice meeting you (y/n).”

“Nice meeting you too Billie, and thank you for the clothes.”

“No problem. Cheers guys. And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Billie!” Rog and Fred proclaimed as we walked out of Kensington market.

After that, we headed down to the nearest grocery store for the simple items that I needed like toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, socks, gloves, and Roger passed by some sunglasses and he had me try them on to which I said I looked ridiculous but to him, he thought I looked cute (which I won’t deny made me blush a little).

Once all the shopping was done, we headed back to the hotel and Roger helped me unpack my stuff. As he was helping me put some of my clothes into his closet he asked me.

“Now (y/n), about that friend of yours. What exactly does he look like?” At that point I thanked god that the Doctor at least appeared human, because if he looked like anything else how do you explain that to your hero?

“Well, he’s got short brown hair, he’s pretty tall and lean. Kinda like Brian but not exactly the same height. Oh and he wears a bowtie.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah he says they’re cool. But hopefully that helps. Oh and he basically wears a suit. All the time.”

“Okay what is he a doctor or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you recall where you think he might’ve ran off to?”

“That I—I don’t know. I guess I must’ve been knocked just before he ran. God I—I hope I can find him.”

“Hey, we will. I’ll turn all of London upside down if I have too to help you.” Roger said assuringly as he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. I looked up at him and softly smiled.

“Thank you Roger. I—literally don’t know what I would’ve done had I not ran into you.”

“Think nothing of it love. I’m glad we met last night.” He playfully ruffled my hair making me exclaim while he grinned and softly laughed. It was then there was a knock at the door.

“Roger! Roger open the door now!” Oh no it couldn’t be. But as I saw Roger roll his eyes and make a disgusted face as he hauled himself towards the door. I peeked over from the bedroom to see him open the door to reveal the man I feared I would come in contact with.

Paul Prenter.

“What do you want Prenter?”

“You were supposed to be at the Odeon theater 2 hours ago! Where the bloody hell have you been?!” God just hearing his Irish accent made me feel so dirty. The bastard who became a bad influence on Freddie, and the greedy snake who would go on to sell off Freddie’s AIDS story for like 30,000 pounds was now standing right before my eyes.

“Unlike you Prenter, I know how to have fun.”

“Well your fun has costed the band two hours of rehearsal. Reid is livid right now!” It was then he somehow saw me and that’s when he barged in and said. “Is this the reason you’ve delayed the rehearsal? For some teenage hussy!?”

“Excuse me!?”

“You have no right to be in here. In fact I can have you arrested and charged with stalking.” Paul threatened. That’s when Roger stepped in between him and I.

“You even think about that and I’ll have you thrown out the bloody window faster than you can blink!” he snarled protectively.

“You’ve been saying that for years Roger and yet you’ve never done it. You don’t got the nerve.” Bragged Paul.

“Do I?” it was then I watched as Roger dragged Paul towards the back door of the small balcony and forcefully pinned Paul’s head to the stone railings. “Wanna rethink that statement?”

“Okay! Okay! Okay just let me go!” Paul wept.

“Then get the hell out of my room and don’t even dare think about calling the police. Or else there’ll be a new decoration all along the pavement of the Marriot.” He picked Paul back up and forced him out of the room before slamming the door and locked it tight.

Holy shit! I wish that was shown in the movie. Damn Roger Taylor is a lion.

“I am so sorry about him. Paul can be a right up arsehole. I’ve been trying to convince Fred to fire him but somehow he still keeps him around.”

“It’s okay Rog. I’ve—been called worse than hussy.” It’s true. When you’re involved with a gang, you are called way worse things, especially if you’re a girl. I’ve been called the B word mostly, the P word and even the C word, all before I was 15.

“Who has called you that? What did they say?”

“Just some school punks back in primary school. You know how little boys are.”

“Even so, my mum taught me to never be rude to girls. Men who do such things like that aren’t even worth living. Nor should they even deserve to call themselves men.” As Roger said that, I noticed this harsh, distant look in his eyes.

Was he—I mean I remember reading a story of how he was a victim of domestic abuse. There’ve been some theories that it was probably his dad since he was never really spoke much by Roger. So—could that really be true?

“Rog? You—okay?” I said after he didn’t speak for what felt like 2 minutes. He snapped out of his daze and said.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine. Well come on let’s head out and see if we can’t find that friend of yours.”

“Actually. Since I already got you and Fred into more trouble than I’d like, you should go to the rehearsals. I can search for him on my own.”

“Are you sure? I—wouldn’t want you to get hurt again. I have no problem coming with you.”

“Really Rog. It’ll be daylight, more witnesses so I doubt anyone’s gonna jump me. Besides I’ll bet Deacy and Brian are probably pissed at you and Fred for skipping out. Go, rehearse. I’ll meet you guys at around lunch time? Maybe even see you rehearse the concert?”

“I’d like that. And I’m sure Fred would too. If anything happens, here’s the number for the theater as well as my roadie/assistant Crystal.” He took a piece of paper from a notepad and quickly put down a couple of numbers before handing it over to me.

“Thank you.” I said as I took the notepad paper.

“Stay safe love.” And my heart literally stopped when I actually felt Roger kiss my cheek before grabbing his drumsticks and headed out the door.

Oh my god, I can’t believe I just got a kiss on the cheek from my idol. I’ll admit internally I’m screaming my head off and melting right on the spot. I placed my hand over the cheek he kissed and I just felt this warm, gooey feeling inside.

“Oh nana would not believe this.” I then got myself ready and headed on out of the hotel and proceeded to walk around the London streets.

As I saw Christmas decorations and lights on almost every corner, I kept muttering to myself.

“Oh Doctor where are you?” I listened carefully for any wheezing and groaning sounds, an eye for a blue police box, or a tall, lean man wearing a purple suit and bowtie. But after about 2 hours walking along the streets I saw no one, not even the usual suspicious character that usually follows you once you break the time stream.

I sighed heavily and decided to just head over to the Hammersmith Odeon, because I swear if I stay out here any longer, I’m gonna freeze my organs off. So I headed eastward towards the theater to meet with Roger and the rest of Queen and finally see my favorite band perform right before my eyes.

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venting402 · 4 years

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So let’s just say I’m disgusted with my family now. TW// self harm, mention of suicide

Well like two weeks ago my cousin and my mom were on the sofa. Nothing wrong. I was putting away my grandpa’s old clothes into a vacuum sealed bag because he’s dead and his clothes would get dust sitting in the closet. My cousin goes over with her friends quite often, which I tell my mom that she should put an end to because it’s not safe. My mother NEVER listens to me on anything. When I brought up that they need to take the pandemic more seriously my cousin had the rebuttal of “well u went to ur friend’s house”. Less than a month into lockdown bc it didn’t reach my city yet, yeah. My mom was willing to risk it to go to a party, which I had to stop her from doing.

So my cousin went to her friend’s house over this past week. One of her friends already has a family member who lives with them test positive. On Saturday we went to get coats and in the car she was wearing her mask which I pointed out. Well later we stopped in a parking lot to eat so she took it off in the car so wtf. The next day she was watching music videos in the living room. Yesterday she found out the friend’s house she went to tested positive and she thought since her friend was not showing symptoms it was not a concern.

Of course my mom got mad. Told her she had to stay in her room for the next 10 days. Had yet to sanitize what’s in the house. Well today my uncle who went on a rant on Facebook saying how the fuck can the virus be real showed up at my house. Text my mom he’s here because he showed up with 3 of my younger cousins, not his, let him know. I have to go inform him because that’s the responsible thing to do. HE TELLS ME HES IMMUNE AND ONLY OLD PEOPLE GET IT. THAT KIDS HAVE YET TO DIE FROM IT.

I tell my mom how it played out because she blamed his rant on him being drunk so I tell her “it was not bc he’s drunk or high”. Her response? “Why would u tell him that. Him coming over is a risk they have to take!” ALL I TOLD HIM IS HE CANT COME OVER FOR A WHILE!!!!!!

She constantly gets mad over the news and how people don’t take it seriously yet told me, her only living child, that shit.

Around 9/10 ish I started to cut myself. I started to get more frustrated with my family then the world and one day before I even put a blade to my arm I told my mom, hyperventilating, that I wanted to die. Told me some “other people have it worse than you” bullshit. Among other reasons but that’s why I cut myself, I get so angry and I’m not a violent person. She took my blade away, didn’t stop me. Recently I’ve had it too much with her where the idea is tempting to say fuck it.

My mother is willing to risk my uncle getting covid, the twins he babysits getting covid, their younger brother, my diabetic tia and her diabetic husband, her two sons, grandchildren, that tia’s daughters and their families since they go over quite a bit, my other tia’s kids since my uncle stays over there, that tia’s grandchildren and her boyfriend. ALL SO MY UNCLE CAN HAVE A PLACE TO CALL IN MY HOUSE DESPITE THE FACT HE WAS SUPPOSED TO LIVE WITH US BUT HE DESIDED NOT TO BECAUSE HE WAS OK WITH GETTING HIGH RATHER THAN PROTECT HIS OWN DISABLED FSTHER FROM HIS DRUG ADDICTED BROTHER WHO VERBALY ABUSED MY GRANDPA. She doesn’t want to throw out his dresser full of clothes he doesn’t wear and hasn’t for years because it’s his even tho it creates space in her office room.

I swear I hate this. If I could I would try to be somewhere else but now I’m waiting for her to get home later and 100% fight with me. I’m sure we won’t speak to each other for a good 3 weeks maybe. I’ve been clean for so long I think today might break me.

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nocturnal-jeon · 5 years

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𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚢𝚋𝚞𝚐 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚜 ➛ 𝚍𝚊𝚍!𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗

You and Jimin were homebodies. As much as you hated to admit it, a quiet day indoors away from prying eyes was a lot better than going out. If you went out, Ae-min might get tired and you’d have to go home or you would run out of her favorite snacks.

Now that your daughter was two, she beginning to show her very distinctive personality that constantly had her father doting on her every chance he got. Ae-min was a daddy’s girl, there was no question about it, and honestly, you didn’t mind. Sometimes she would only want to cuddle with her dad, but as you watched them with a smile on your face, the small portion of jealousy trying to cloud your mind got silenced because damn, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

Due to the fact that the Park family loved to stay indoors, no one would go grocery shopping, so you would cook meals with what you had in the cabinet, just adding items to the long and rapid-growing grocery list on the fridge.

It was maybe just past three in the afternoon and you and Jimin were moving around the house, trying to get things done while Ae-min was napping in her room. You stood at the sink scrubbing the small pink spoons Ae-min would only agree to use whenever she ate. She was a picky little thing.

“I really don’t want this day off to end,” your husband whined behind you. Turning your cheek to look at him over your shoulder, you snickered and turned back around, rinsing off the vibrant utensils. “I know, Jiminie,” you said, resting the clean dishes on the rack beside the sink. “Come cuddle with me,” Jimin whined further. Quickly drying your hands on the towel resting on the counter, you turned around to see Jimin sitting on the couch in the living room, arms spread wide.

Cute, you thought.

With quiet feet, deathly afraid of waking up your daughter, you walked into the living room only to let out a gasp when Jimin pulled you onto his lap. Without any time passing, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he pulled your body deep into his. Smelling his natural scent, your stressed body began to calm down as you practically sank into his touch.

It was silent, but it was comfortable silence. You and Jimin didn’t need to talk. It was just the comfort of knowing that you were in each others arms for the moment that kept the silence peaceful. With his soft plump lips, he placed a kiss to your temple, shutting his eyes to enjoy the silence.

The silence lasted for a mere five minutes before the wails of your daughter filled the apartment. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. It was such a bizarre thought that you and your husband could share a moment of silence together. “Let’s go be parents,” Jimin mumbled as he followed you down the hall, causing you to smirk. Gently pushing open the door, you saw Ae-min seated on her bed as her small little fists rubbed her eyes.

“That wasn’t much of a nap,” you said with a frown as you looked at the bright pink clock hanging on her wall. It had only been thirty minutes. “You just wanted to be with daddy, huh?” Jimin cooed as he scooped the toddler up, kissing her red, full cheeks. “I hungry,” the toddler whined, rubbing her tummy. Jimin laughed sweetly, imitating her, in turn, causing her to let out her high pitched giggle.

“I have to go grocery shopping, so we’ll just go buy some food so mommy can make you something to eat,” you said as you looked at your daughter, who nodded before breaking into laughter when her dad’s ringed fingers began to tickle her. Smiling to yourself, you walked over to her closet to pick out clothes for her to wear for the day. You picked out black jeans and a white hello kitty t-shirt, thinking it would look cute on her.

You turned around and saw that Ae-min was now standing beside her father, tugging on his shirt as he held her plushies over her head playfully. You watched for a minute as Ae-min bonded with her favorite parent before interrupting.

“Baby, come get dressed,” you said. The laughter stopped as she turned to look at you, her face turning a tomato red as she crossed her short arms across her chest. “No!” Though her voice was cute, her attitude surely wasn’t. You sighed.

“Ae-min, you can’t go to the store in your pajamas. Aren’t these clothes cute?” you said as you held them up for her to see. Stamping her small foot, she shook her head harshly. “I don’t wanna!” she whined, stamping her foot yet again. You looked up at Jimin with eyes begging for help. He was her favorite. Maybe she would listen to him.

Bending down to her level, Jimin rubbed her back. “Don’t you wanna wear that cute outfit, ladybug?” Jimin asked in a soft, gentle voice. Pushing his hand away, Ae-min threw herself onto the bed and began to cry, kicking her legs and flinging her arms around. This wasn’t a new sight for you since tantrums had been a trend in the Park house, but since Jimin was away a lot, he didn’t see any of the tantrums.

“Park Ae-min,” you said firmly as you stood beside the bed, hands on your hips. She wailed and screamed and whined, messing up the sheets on her bed. You turned to Jimin who looked horrified, never having seen this side of his little ladybug. Motioning to the door, you let Jimin follow you out of the room as you closed it behind you, letting out a deep sigh.

“She’s been going through some phase or something,” you began as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin asked, gazing at you. You shrugged. “You’ve been busy with the comeback,” you simply said, removing your hand. “You need to tell me these things,” Jimin scolded, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you in disbelief. The angry look on his face combined with the screams of your daughter practically pushed you over the edge.

“Well. She needs lunch so you can make her that. She’s probably overtired, so good luck getting her to eat anything you try to give her. You think you can handle the stress of your career and the stress of Ae-min going through her terrible twos?” you irritatedly exclaimed, causing Jimin’s eyes to widen.

“Then go ahead. Get a taste of what I deal with on a daily basis while you’re gone. I’m going to the store.” And with that, you turned on your heels and stormed down the hall, leaving Jimin in shock. So much just happened in the last five minutes and he didn’t know where to start.

And when he heard the front door slam shut, a part of his heart shattered. He didn’t know you were going through this alone. Suddenly, he felt selfish for having been gone so many weeks out of the month, leaving you to deal with the ladybug who frequently had tantrums.

Taking a deep breath, Jimin opened the door to Ae-min’s room and saw that she had calmed down a bit, but was still crying a little. It broke Jimin to see his ladybug crying. “Ladybug, do you maybe want to go back to bed?” he asked in a soft voice as he approached her. She shook her head quickly, her arms finding comfort crossed across her chest. “Can you please get dressed? For me?” Jimin asked with a cute pout, hoping that would coax her into putting on the clothes. Once again, her small little head shook, her black hair flapping about.

Jimin thought for a moment before slowly sitting next to her on the bed.

“Do you wanna see videos of daddy dancing?” he asked in a hopeful voice. When she was younger and screaming and crying, he would put on one of his fancams and she would fall into a trance, watching with wide excited eyes. But now that she was more mobile, he would project it onto the television and they would do the dance together.

Ae-min seemed to think, too, before, to Jimin’s delight, nodding.

Jimin took his phone out of his pocket and sat up on her bed as she crawled onto his lap in her adorable onesie that Hoseok had bought for her. Curling her body up, she rested her head on his stomach and fit her body comfortably between his legs, watching as he found a fancam they hadn’t watched yet.

He pulled up the most recent ‘Boy With Luv’ fancam. He hadn’t even seen it yet. And as he held his phone out in front of him, Ae-min watched with wide eyes, a small smile on her face as she saw her uncles and her dad perform beautifully. And they watched five more fancams. But at the end of the fifth one, when Ae-min didn’t shout “Next!”, he peered down to her only to see that she was sleeping.

Smiling to himself, he went to the camera app and took a few selfies with her sleeping figure before slowly and gently removing himself from her onto to tuck her in securely. Stroking her hair, he placed a soft kiss to the skin before exiting her room.

He heard rustling in the kitchen and walked in to see you putting food away in the cabinets. You turned your head to look at him, but you turned back around without saying anything. “Can we talk about what just happened?” he asked as he leaned against the wall, watching as you put the milk in the fridge. You knew you were being stubborn. The adult thing would be to talk it out and you knew that. With a quiet sigh, you nodded and put up the last of the things before sitting across from Jimin at the dinner table.

“It’s stressful without you here,” you said, beginning the conversation. Jimin remained silent, wanting you to vent. “And there are sacrifices I need to make in order for you to do what you love everyday. So if that means not telling you about the most stressful part of parenthood and sharing that unnecessary stress, then so be it,” you explained, fiddling with the ring on your finger.

“Y/n, I can make sacrifices, too. I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness for mine. I can make changes with my schedule so I can be home more with you and Ae-min and we can share the workload,” he said, voice gentle as he reached across the table and held both your hands, to which you gave a reassuring squeeze.

“Jimin, remember when I told you that your happiness trumps all in my world?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. He nodded. “You are happy when you’re at work, Chim. I know you are. And you don’t need to worry about Ae-min and her tantrums when you’re away,” you pressed, making Jimin know that you weren’t going to backdown.

He let out a soft, airy sigh.

“But besides Ae-min, I’m rarely here for you, baby. I know it can be stressful with her and you don’t ever have anyone to vent to or to help you out,” he pointed out, rubbing the skin on the back of your hand. You shrugged, giving a sad smile.

“We never said it would be easy.”

Frowning, Jimin stood up and pulled you into his arms, rocking back and forth with you. “You’re doing an amazing job,” he whispered as he stroked your hair. You scoffed. “She hates me. She only ever asks for you,” you admitted, pressing your cheek into his chest to better hear his calming heartbeat.

“She loves you, y/n. I know it,” he soothingly said before kissing the crown of your head. “You’re doing great. Ae-min is lucky to have you.” You smiled at that. Validation. That’s really what you needed. You weren’t a bad parent.

#bts #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #dad bts #bts dad #bts dad au #bts jimin #bts park jimin #jimin bts #park jimin bts #dad jimin #dad jimin au

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boeserbby · 5 years

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Only Time Will Tell- Brock Boeser 1.3

about/request: I really wanted to explore a relationship where you are ‘the other woman’ this is the result of that. I’m not sure how long this will end up so…. sorry.

warnings: cursing, i think that's it??

authors note: Sorry I took such a long time bringing this out, I didn’t know if anyone actually liked this or not. Remember that a lot of details in this story are made up or changed. Make sure to check out parts one and two, I fixed some mistakes and made some corrections.

timeline: march 2017

word count: 2614

Hockey used to be a life for not just me, but my whole family. Three nights a week we would hop in my dad’s old work truck to cruise over to wherever Charlie, and in turn Brock, played. Often times we would meet up with the Boeser’s to grab the best seats right by the ice. Here my mom would yell to “Shoot the puck!” or boo at whatever call she felt didn't fit the crime. My dad would grab a couple of beers while talking to some guys he knew from his work. Small towns mean most people there he knew so he would rarely sit with us the whole game. Sometimes I would sit by my mom and Brock’s mom and sisters. Sometimes there would be kids from school or members from the team who were scratched I would sit by instead. Wren was often the one scratched. He never made it to practice on time and when he did he would spend more time talking to guys on the team then practicing. He was nice and seen grew to be one of the guys on the team I felt fully comfortable with. He understood what it was like to be the younger sibling and live in the shadow of our elders. His older brother Josh was team captain and lead them to 3 state titles in a row.

After the game, all of us would go out to eat. The Boeser’s and the Y/L/N’s and whomever joined along from the team. Dad would tell Charlie what to do better, of course Dad knew what it was like to play hockey. He played for the University of Minnesota until a really bad accident his sophomore year took him out. Charlie, and me too (at least for a little bit), just wanted to impress him. Often times dad would rag on Charlie until they got into a mini fight. Charlie would hitch a ride back with Brock and his family. My dad would then spend the whole drive home complaining that Charlie was never going to be as good as him if Charlie didn't take his advice.

Although the bad seeped into the good. The hockey rink was were my family was one. We all would come together to scream when number 6 would skate out. Cause no matter how awful things were going at home, the rink was a time of escape. It was when hot chocolate would warm cold fingers in the late second period or the high of sugar rush from skittles in the second intermission. It was a time to giggle at the little kids they brought out between periods. They wouldn’t yet be comfortable on skates so they would slip and fall or miss the puck completely. I couldn’t remember what it was like when Charlie and I were that young playing, but I like thinking we were better than that.

After he had died, I didn’t go to many games. There was no more hot chocolate or skittles high. No little kids falling or scoring on their own net. We never went out to eat after the games. There were no more arguments between dad and Charlie. The nearby rink which once held the best memories was purposely avoided at all times. Life went on, but each day seemed to hold some emotional punch of remembrance. Like one day, about 3 months after he died I came home from school and my mom had cleaned out his room. Neat piles of his clothes and pictures were placed in bins labeled “attic” or “giveaway.” His first skates, his autographed Detroit Red Wings Steve Yzerman jersey, and so much more was packed away to be set aside. His posters, CDs and other trinkets were thrown out or donated to a thrift store. I remember yelling at my mom that this is his room. She told me she needed to heal and that dad had been asking her to do it for two weeks. It was time to move on.

Since moving I had gone to no hockey games. And the Vancouver Canucks were not a bad team. They had just been having a difficult time in recent years. That didn’t make city pride for them any less. Any game night and the always crowded downtown streets turned into an obstacle only the bravest could handle. I never purposely put myself in a position to make the drive down to the stadium in the past 2 years of living in Vancouver. Occasionally I was invited to games by friends and classmates. I managed to get out of it every time too, but somehow escaping this invite seemed impossible.

It was Brock’s mother’s last night in the city before she had to fly back down to Minnesota to care for Brock’s younger siblings. I was extended an invite due to my ‘gracious’ hosting, my mother called me and told me how Laurie, Brock’s mother, raved how I grew into such a beautiful and caring young woman. So there I was crammed in Rogers Arena with 18,000 or so people. Laurie was on one side of me wearing a new Boeser jersey. I, even though I lived there awhile, owned no such fan gear and instead dressed in a thick sweatshirt. Natalie tried to get me to wear her old Trevor Linden jersey, but I high tailed it out of there before she could fish it out of her closet.

I loved hockey growing up, but standing here made me feel so out of place. Life had changed so much in the past two years. I was no longer the little tomboy with scraped knees and a messy ponytail. I longer wanted to play hockey. Now, I had put hockey out of my life so much that welcoming it back in right now felt traitorous to everything I had done to avoid coming here. Laurie was cheering and dancing. I guess there is nothing quite like the debut of your child in the NHL. Warm ups had just started so every guy was on the ice. It was easy to spot him in the white 6 with the dark blue background. I got chills the first time I saw it. Boeser was spelled out in big letters across his back. I imagined at that moment seeing Charlie out there. He would mess around and probably fall trying to impress some girls he would see on the front row. But he would be here, and he would be happy.

“I’m gonna go grab a beer, want one?” I asked his mom. Canada drinking laws are sort of amazing. I remember getting carded at a bar when I first turned 19. There was a split second of panic before I remembered I didn’t really need to be 21 up here.

“No, hun, I’m going to facetime the girls so they can see Brock on the ice,” she said grabbing her phone.

People were still pouring in from the front doors. Lines were long for everything even the escultors. I recognized some people from college and waved. They sported brand new jerseys and held in their arms peanuts and beers and popcorn. “We are gonna win!” They all said. People were invigorated with the call up of Brock. I was invigorated to get a beer in me that's for sure. Fifteen minutes and 16 bucks later I carried my two beers back to our spot. Laurie was finishing up her call to Jessica and Paul, Brock siblings along with Duke. I waved and said hi to everyone.

“Kid, you gotta come back more often,” Paul said. Paul was Brock’s oldest sibling and he always acted like he was so much older than the rest of us. Add on to the fact that I was the youngest in our family friend group, “Kid” has been my nickname well into my early teens.

“I will soon, I have just been super busy with college and all.”

It had been mine excuse through out my time here. For the first 8 months my parents begged me to come home. At this point they didn't even call me anymore. I guess it's far cause I don't call them up much too.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay back home,” Laurie said. “Are you guys staying up to watch the game?”

“Only for a little bit, I work early in the morning.” Jessica said. West coast games ended way too late to stay up watching them in Minnesota. While it was only 7:00 our time it was 9 there so the game could last until 12 or 1 am.

We all said our goodbyes as the lights dimmed. The Canucks opening video was being shown on the big screen while music blared in the arena. This was pump up time. As our guys skated out people cheered loudly. This game was supposed to be good. The Ducks always had a little rivalry with us. Add on to the fact that this was Boeser’s first home game and we were on a two-game losing streak. The team, and the fans, were hungry for a win.

Unfortunately moral lasted until the ducks scored for the third time in the first period. Add on when Montour scored to make it 4-0 in the second, people began realising that not much has changed even with Brock. As the zamboni entered the ice for second intermission, Laurie turns to me.

“So, your mom told me your in college,” she started. God, she was fishing. Mom’s think they are clever trying to get information by stating the conversation at a wide base value and steer it to the cavity in the situation.

“Yep, I go to the University of British Columbia for journalism,” I said sipping water I got after downing both beers in the first period.

“That must be a lot of work, what do you do for work?” she asks.

“I actually write for Vancouver’s newspaper, they pay pretty good, and I do work study, so they pay for so much of my tuition that isn’t covered by my scholarships and then I get some of the money”

“What do you do for work study?” she asks.

“My English professor needs an assistant. I’m basically his gopher. If he needs a book from the library or a coffee I go get it. I transcribe his lectures for any kid who misses class. Sometimes I will tutor kids or help them find good sources for their papers. It’s not too bad, maybe three or four hours per day and I get like 6 credits towards my English major.”

“Gosh, that's a lot. He needs you to do all of that?”

I shrug, “It sucks sometimes but the professor is nice so…”

“Your mom said that you haven’t come home since moving here.” They way she phrases the end of it is hard to respond to. It's not a question, more of a statement. She didn't sound mad or upset like my mom does when she says it. Laurie just sounds concerned. Her voice feels like a hug.

“It’s just soo much,” I start. “Charlie’s gone and mom and dad are splitting up. Mom met this new guy and he is so proper. Dad hasn’t even called me in two months because I said I’m not coming home for his huge labor day party. Plus I just got so much going on.”

“It’s okay to be hurt by what's going on, but don’t hide from it. Your parents love you a lot. They just don’t know how to love each other with so much hurt.”

“I don't know how to love them with so much hurt.” I mutter.

Everyone is buzzing as the crowd makes its way out of the arena. We may have lost, but Brock put one in the beginning of the third to excite the crowd. Laurie and I hang back to give Brock time to get ready. The team could have lost 10-1 and she still would have been glowing with excitement for Brock. His life was changing, and he was no longer the little boy who fell over on the ice. Where most parents would have been freaking out, Laurie handled with grace, something she has done her entire life. No matter the situation Laurie put on her big girl pants and muddled through.

We meandered our way to the locker room, showing our passes to the security guard. In the hallway we waited as different guys from the team joined up with their wives or girlfriends. They all hugged Laurie telling her how wonderful her son is. Everyone loved Brock. Well almost everyone.

Brock finally made his way out. His hair was still wet from what I was hoping was a shower and not sweat. He and Laurie hugged when he reached us. It was an awkward second or two while we figured out if we would hug or not. Wrapping my arms around him felt weird, almost as weird as the time we kissed. Yet there was a nostalgia in it too; we went always so awkward. In fact I remember a time in my life where I never thought we would ever be strangers. I remember once when I was about 12 and Brock was about 13, I had a dream that Brock and I were dating. The next day I remember being shy and awkward especially when he called me “Kid”. I went all pink and Charlie would not let it go for a whole year. Finally, when Brock asked a different girl to the joint 7th-8th grade dance Charlie let it go. I spent the whole night crying and accepted Thomas Miller’s invite. He had braces and dark hair and spent all night trying to kiss me. After the second slow dance song I joined up with my friends instead. The next day I heard a rumor going around that he said not only had we kissed, but that I let him touch my boobs. Charlie had been mad and cornered me about it. When I admitted it false, he said he taught Thomas a lesson. The next week someone “anonymously” shared a picture of Thomas at a birthday party sucking on his thumb with a stuffed animal. From there rumors spread he wet the bed every night.

We always had each others backs. It made we wonder how things ended up so differently. We all walked out together. As I reached into my pocket to order an Uber, Laurie offered to have them drive me back to my apartment.

“It’s too late for a young woman like you to hop in some random mans car.” she insisted.

“”I couldn’t bother you guys,” I said.

“No bother,” Brock said. “Might be nice to see more of the city anyway.”

Thirty minutes later I lay in bed without make up and in an old, ripped up shirt from Natalie’s older brother that he left here. Natalie was already deep asleep when I got home with one of the Harry Potter movies on full volume. With school for both of us the next day, it was important to get as much sleep as possible. But as I laid there all I could think about was Brock’s hair and his cologne. I wished things could have ended better for us all those years ago. Maybe there’s time for change now. A girl could hope.

As I finally started to drift asleep my phone’s ping jolts me awake.

Brock Boeser has texted you.

Thanks for coming tonight. I hope to see you soon.

God, it’s going to be a long night.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #imagine

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justleesoohyuk · 5 years

Text

Lee Soo Hyuk WKOREA September 2019 Interview [ENG translation]

translation by : justleesoohyuk

WKOREA

W: It’s been a long time. What did you spend your days doing?

LSH: I spent most of my time at home so I rarely went outside. In recent months I have been cast in a new film and ready to shoot. As I went through this period of time, I became more greedy and passionate about acting. I soon wanted to go to (or be in) the movies. I’m lucky to have joined Yoo Ha’s new work. Yoo Ha is famous for showing a new side of actors who are already somewhat familiar with the public.

W: I’m curious about the story behind the casting.

LSH: First of all, let me tell you a sad story. I didn’t know much about myself until the audition (laughs), but I was shocked for a while (about landing the role) since I started out as a model for over 10 years. I thought that as I grow older and work more and more, I will show various faces to the public. I want to be a good actor.

W: The film Pipeline is a story about thieves who steal oil hidden in underground tunnels and dream of turning their lives around. You play a wealthy man who plans to steal tens of billions of dollars?

LSH: This film is based on a true story that happened in Korea. Gunwoo is a person who has personal pain and strives to achieve any purpose. In the drama High School King, I worked with (Seo) In Guk, I’m having fun working with him again after a long time. He (Seo In Guk) was cast first, but he must have said something good about me. I thought (knew) I was able to do it.

W: By the way, I think I saw the white shirt and jeans that you’re wearing today in the first script reading.

LSH: I have about five sets of the same clothes at home. If you like something, buy a lot of it. Now is an age where classic is better than trend.

W: What items would you choose if you could only have three in your closet?

LSH: Jeans, white shirts, is that enough do you think? That’s not enough (laughs)

W: As a model turned actor, you’ve passed the glamorous initial point

LSH: I feel like I’ve become a comfortable and stable person since the moment I was given the spotlight as an actor from being a model. For the past two years I had a mediocre and quiet life. It’s time to look at me. When I debuted at 17 years old and worked hard, I didn’t have enough time to think about myself. In fact, talking about myself in the third person is a bit embarrassing. (laughs) what is lee soo hyuk? It was a time when I was thinking about new things and wondering why, why do you like me sometimes? I wanted to express my gratitude and apologies to my fans at the same time. I want to show you a great growth.

W: In the early days, if you look at your filmography, there were a lot of close to fantasy and unrealistic characters such as The Boy from Ipanema and Gwi from Scholar who walks the Night. Then Choi Gun Wook in Lucky Romance and Kwon Duk-bong in The Man Living in our House were characters who were close to reality that could fit somewhere in a neighborhood. Was there a moment of worry about changing your acting spectrum?

LSH: In those days, I wanted to play an ordinary role, but when I think about it, I think it’s a good image for me. Valid Love began to be popular with people, followed by Lucky Romance and High School King. I’m young but I still feel impatient as an actor. I want to be remembered as an experienced actor to the public through various roles.

W: Do you have a role that you’ve wanted to play?

LSH: I’ve been talking about it for 5 years but I haven’t done it yet. I ask the directors every time (laughs) I want to represent the current state of young people in their 20s and 30s in current times. but im too old to take it right now.

W: I’ve working around the clock all year, but have there ever been points you’ve struggled as an actor?

LSH: I remember the time when I read over the drama Valid love. Han Ji-Seung directed both drama and film. We filmed many conversations with each other It was focused on delicately catching even the slightest trembling of the hands or eyes. [aka the focus was on close up details and responses as opposed to simply acting in mid shots]

W: Are you also eager to change up or overthrow your unique image?

LSH: The door is always open to change. Director Yoo Ha watched my roles closely, such as the drama Local Hero, which I come out as acting comfortably in. It is best to be able to act in many different ways.

W: There seems to be quite a lot of change in your physique compared with your model days.

LSH: When I worked as a model, I was the representing the exhausted thin image. I had no choice, I had to keep my body thin. At that time, it was a plus, and at some point I wanted to broaden my character and gain weight and start exercising. Even if I stay still, my body is not in the same state it was. I think people’s expectations are high, so they work hard. I also like to eat delicious food as per usual (laughs).

W: What kind of man is Soo Hyuk in reality? For example, do you work hard to save? do household chores such as cleaning and laundry, or enjoy meals?

LSH: All you have to do is buy the things you’ve mentioned, saving is going to be a little bit harder (laughs).

W: You like to assemble things like robots, radio controlled cars and plastic model airplanes? It’s surprising to me.

LSH: I like to make something when i’m home alone. I enjoy building Lego. I also liked sculpting when I went to an atelier a while ago. I like things you do with your hands.

W: A close fellow actor said ‘he is smart and seems to have a very high IQ, well organised, and not cooler than expected and very compassionate. I remember everything while pretending not to listen. Not really ordinary and there are many surprises. Has a style and examines like A type but the blood type is AB. I was evaluating Lee Soo Hyuk’. Is there anything you want to correct/refute?

LSH: what is Young Kwang’s account number? (laughs) I’d like to buy him a meal after a long time. I am grateful, I wont argue.

W: Do you meet (Young Kwang) often?

LSH: I’ve known him since my model days. We meet to exercise and play games. The other day I was forced to play basketball at my Hyung’s place (laughs) He is one year older than me so I just say ‘Hyung’ but we spend time together like friends. He is also in the middle of film shooting but i thank him for helping me in the last two years. He’s a good friend and companion for the rest of my life.

W: You run a private Instagram. I am curious about the 17 photos on it.

LSH: There isn’t much (laughs) I can show you now. I am not good at taking original photographs. I post or delete weather photos, and fashion, news. etc. I’m following my account but its just a quick way to see and study news.

W: I’ve heard that you usually watch movies eagerly as if you are studying.

LSH: I love the site of IMDB. It’s an abbreviation of Internet Movie Database, and all the movies, directors, and actors around the world are clearly organised. When I watch a movie, I tend to look mainly at the director’s filmography, but when someone comes in, I often look for his work. I can talk endlessly about my favorite movies. Nowadays, Netflix seems to have great documentaries and excellent shooting techniques. When watching a movie, you should look at shooting techniques and colors.

W: When I search ‘Lee Soo Hyuk’ on YouTube, the words ‘exciting video’ are automatically suggested. When do you feel the excitement of someone, when is it the best time to do your job well?

LSH: Isn’t it the best time to do your job well? Or you can look at your family and friends. When a man or woman looks the most wonderful, look around and do your job well it seems to be. [this question confused me a bit so if anyone can give a better translation for this question let me know]

W: There are actors who expand through directing or producing like Lee Yun-seok, Moon So-ri, Ha Jung-woo, and Lee Jung-jae. Do you want to challenge the realm beyond acting someday?

LSH: I said I wanted to produce a film not knowing much about it because I was younger (laughs), acting is much more difficult than i thought before when i didn’t know anything (when he was younger). The more you know, the harder it is. The reason is that it is the most fun thing to go to the shoot. I’ve loved movies since my childhood. Even if I don’t necessarily appear so as an actor, getting involved in making good movies is always something I’ve wanted to do and a goal in my life.

- - - - - - - - - -

source of original korean text

#wkorea #lee soo hyuk #actor #model #kactor #kmodel #korean actor #korean model #kdrama #korean drama #soohyuk #wkoreaman #english translation #english #justleesoohyuk #instagram #lee soohyuk #interview

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meiwroo · 6 years

Note

Can you write something along the lines of Peter being super obsessive over the reader and he sneaks into her room and hides in her closet every day after school, constantly takes pictures of her and has Polaroid’s of her all over his room, she eventually talks to him in class and they agree to do a project together, she insists that they should do it at his place and she comes too early and sees the pictures in his room? ~ what happens after that is up to you ;) -🎱 (can this be my signature?)

Can you tell I didn’t edit this one as much? Also, I think I’m getting into the swing of things? Enjoy

Okay, so there’s one thing that bothers me. Whenever Peter sneaks into your room, he’s wearing his Spider-Man suit—enough to get caught in broad daylight scaling an apartment building by a bystander—or even worse a villain. Do you know how many villains could peep this and start coming after you?? Anyway

When it comes to you, Peter has a one-track mind.

It’s always ‘Do physics homework—Check the camera to see what Y/N is doing; Cook dinner—Check Y/N’s social media and see if she posted anything new.’ 24/7 until something urgent pops up that requires his undivided attention i.e. trying not to die

And the way Peter ends up in your closet is gradual.

At first he happened to swing by as you were on your way home, and he trailed you

Then he swung by when no one happened to be home. Curiosity got the best of him, and before he knew it, he was putting Karen on mute and sliding open your window before dropping down in your room

One thing he loves is that right off the bat your room smells like you

Staring at the knickknacks in your room, noting whether or not your room and desk is orderly, all of it gives him a better gauge of your personality that he’s not able to see when he’s listening to you and your friends talk during lunch or in class

And then it happens again and again, until one day, his Spidey senses start tingling and he can hear you unlocking the front door and heading up to your room. On the spur of the moment, he hid in your closet. Stupid, if you were the type of person to hang up your clothes as soon as you got home. But for hours until you finally fell asleep, he was forced to sit in your cramped closet watching you in your natural habitat. It was truly a wonderful experience…

It made him feel stupid for not thinking of it before. So, every now and then he would treat himself into sneaking into your room. On particular days where he hardly saw you because you either called in sick, ditched class, or had a field trip with another class.

If you were already home, he’d wait and sneak in when you left the room, or if he was feeling particularly brazen, when you had your back turned and earphones in listening to your music at full blast, he would just slide your window open, climb on the ceiling, and gently sneak into your closet.

If you ever wonder where the sudden breeze came from, that’s Peter.

And it continues until every day after school, Peter beats you home by minutes, sneaking into your closet, getting his daily dose of you.

He’s gotten himself a routine, where he would accomplish all of his work at school before the final bell, head to your place and make himself comfortable on your closet floor, leave when you go to grab dinner and go eat dinner himself with May, and then head out for patrols, before coming back home to catch a bit of shut eye

That’s what? Only like 3-4 hours he gets to spend with you every day? Regardless it’s not enough

Peter does record you though. At first through his phone, and then through surveillance cameras he’s placed around your room; One in the smoke detector and then a listening bug in your light switch

It would be small minor things like you talking to yourself, telling yourself a joke, humming to yourself while you browsed the web, watching you rage quit at video games, and even watching you struggle with homework which frustrates Peter to no end.

Listening to you get upset over not being able to solve a problem makes him want to tear his hair out. If he could just pluck the pencil from your hand right quick and show you how it’s done…All he needed was a minute

Another thing that also irked him? You losing points on homework because you left a section blank or didn’t turn it in at all. During those times, Peter just wishes he could turn homework in on your behalf and not get caught. He’d do it in a heartbeat if teachers couldn’t recognize your handwriting and the assignment had no way of getting back to you

When it’s late, and he’s all snuggled in bed, Peter likes to watch the videos and fantasize about would it would be like if he was next to you. How you two would interact, and etc. He feels closer to you whenever he does this.

Sometimes he likes to fall asleep to the sound of your shallow breathing when you’re asleep

Every now and then Peter likes to ease into bed beside you after hard fights that leave him bruised and exhausted

It’s easy to pick your habits and routines like this. eating habits, bathroom habits, what music you tend to steer towards, what content you like to watch the most on the internet; All of your likes and dislikes, favorite food, color, drink, what’s on your wish list right, what’s even got you stressed right—which breaks his heart because he’s not sure what he can do to help

But Peter has this collection, right? Of odd pictures that he snaps of you every chance he gets.

He has a collage of them—11 or so—on the wall against his bed. Easy to hide with a perfectly propped pillow if May were to ever walk in his room while he’s away. He hangs the ones that are both artistic and articulates your personality the best. It’s his little masterpiece.

Let’s say he gets beaten up too badly in a fight and he’s forced to stay home while you recover. Those pictures keep him going

But then there’s the scrapbook Peter has (in his desk drawer). Tons of Polaroid snaps—dated and describing what you’re doing—in addition to nonsensical diary entries beside them about how you made him feel in that moment or what he’d love to do to you, or maybe even a little poem

It’s mainly filled with fun memories Peter wasn’t really a part of. Pictures of you hugging your best friend and goofing off during a field trip, you winning a small award and going on stage to receive it, you participating in extracurriculars e.g. track and field

And then there are the nonsensical ones like your face before you’re about to devour your favorite food, or your aloof expression while you sit outside during study hall, or your deeply focused expression while you cram in gym class before a test you have next period.

In general, Peter takes a lot of pictures of you; And they’re everywhere. All you have to do is look closely and you’ll find a photo under his desk by the foot of his chair, or a more risqué one poking out from under his nightstand—even phots sprinkled between the pile of dirty laundry he’s been throwing in the corner

It’d honestly be bad if May ever decided to spontaneously do spring cleaning in his room

It’d be bad if you came across these photos which—spoiler: you do.

Everything was going great with Peter watching from afar, and then you had to go and talk with him

Don’t get me wrong, Peter was so happy he thought he would puke.

It had been in APES, and the class was doing a lab. Your friend who takes the class with you and had called in sick, so you decided to partner up with Peter, I mean he did sit directly to the left of you

His heart stopped, of course, he was praising the heavens that his voice didn’t crack, everything was great. His day was blessed, and he actually spent time talking with you which rolled smoothly between you to.

There was a report due on Monday, so you two decided y’all would both knock it out today after school at his place.

Big, fucking, mistake.

Peter was so high on cloud nine, that he forgot about his little hobby littered around his room—the same room which you two planned to do the assignment in since May had her weird project occupying the majority of the surfaces in the living room which she explicitly told him not to move

It didn’t dawn on him until you asked to use his bathroom, and he walked into his room.

He picked up a shirt, sniffed, and was ready to toss it into the hamper until two photos fluttered out.

And then magically he realizes that he had his scrapbook out with the recently developed 6-7 photos scattered on his desk.

He heard you exit the bathroom and his heart stops.

“Peter, you in here?”

His eyes dart between the door and the scrapbook comically

He could’ve webbed the door shut, climbed out the window, and then crawl in through the bathroom and say something like he needed to go retrieve something from May’s room—which he should’ve did, but instead there you are smiling at him in the doorway casually greeting him before your eyes flicker to all of the Polaroid's and decide to pick one up

“Y/N wait!”

Your brain takes a full minute to fully process what you’re seeing

Let’s say it’s a picture of you changing in your bedroom

When you look Peter in the eyes and see his panicked expression, it tells you everything you need to know.

You should’ve left after the first picture, but you needed to confirm, so you started picking up the nearest pictures, shuffling through them.

You grabbing coffee with MJ, you going shopping with your mom, you trying on dresses and browsing in a local department store, even you propped lazily against your friend’s car while you wait for them to lock their front door.

“Where did you get these?!”

“I—I can explain!”

You try to make a run for it, but Parker’s quicker than you, stronger than you; He pins you against the wall easily, both of your wrists clasped tightly in one hand.

He’s breathing heavily as though a panic attack was soon about to set in

“I can explain…” is all he says, staring into your eyes wildly

Feedback?

#yandere headcanons #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker x reader #yandere spiderman x reader #yandere peter parker #yandere spiderman

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jhmyguardiangel · 5 years

Text

Beastly Beautiful Spin-Off | Jeonghan | Ep. 3

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Elite!Jeonghan

Category: Seventeen Series, Seventeen Universe

A/N: Last chapter to close off this series! i know i said 5 episodes but i think this is good enough to say goodbye to this fic! ^^ ps. long posy ahead -//-

Word count: 1970

<Previous Episode

———

“Mr. Ryu, Can you help me with something?.” Jeonghan queried, all laid down on the sofa. It was a long weekend and the Yoon Manor was not at its usual state since Jeonghan didn’t have anyone to make fun of.

And where were you? You were at a carnival after a sleepover at Sejeong’s hometown. Knowing that on the last minute, Jeonghan was immediately annoyed. Even if you lived under same roof, he lowkey wanted to spend some time with you. ‘Cause recently, rumors were going around about you two ‘living in’, so you had to leave seperately at all costs.

“Yes, sure. What will it be, Young Master?” Mr. Ryu folded the newspaper and quickly taking a sip from his coffee, his attention on Jeonghan.

“I want to cut my hair.” he simply said, flicking the ends of his shoulder-length, untied ash blonde hair.

The older man choked on his coffee, coughing vigorously. “Well why, Young Master? I couldn’t believe my ears.”

Jeonghan glared at him, “Then clean them!” sitting up, “I just feel like it.”

“Madame Yoon loved your hair, though.”

“I know she did.” he sat back. “But I wanna have a change of style, you know.”

Mr. Ryu just shook his head, knowing the real reason why Jeonghan would do just a bold thing. “You want to show off and grab Y/N’s attention, Young Master.”

Bullseye. Jeonghan’s heartbeat started beating rapidly, his top of his ears slowly turning red, and coughing his way out of the conversation. “Well I-“

Giving a soft chuckle, “Bargaining is the second stage of love, Young Master. You just fake coughed.”

“Just call my stylist, will you?” he stood up, getting pissed off as he left the living room.

“Ah he’s slowly getting there.”

———

“Finally I could have a break from all that dealing with YDH Technologies.” you flopped on Sejeong’s bed, tired from the extra paperwork.

Sejeong just laughed at you, she too, flopped beside you as you both stared at the ceiling. “See? I told you. You shouldn’t push yourself too much.” her face lit up. “Let’s have a makeover! My treat.”

“My body hurts from all that fun we had yesterday at the carnival.” you contrasted. “Just let me slee-“

She pulled you up, earning a groan from you. “You’ve been at the Yoon Manor for like what? Half a year? Got to have all those stress levels down, you know.”

You smiled sheepishly, agreeing to the offer. “All right, what have you planned?”

“Shopping for clothes, and in to the salon we go for a makeup and hair-do.” she went towards her walk-in closet to get dressed.

“But I’m already beautiful, what’s the point?” you teased, crossing your arms.

Sejeong gasped, “Y/F/N, that confidence though.” lifting her hand to her chest. “But ew, you’re sounding like broom boy.”

“Broom boy? You mean President Jeonghan?” you giggled.

“Yeah, me and boys called him that eversince he kidnapped you from me when we’re walking to the Key last year. You do remember, right?”

“Of course I do.” you rolled your eyes. Smiling, you stood still remembering how Mrs. Bu secretly face-timed Jeonghan’s reaction when you left this morning. He looked like a little child.

“Well, come on you pretty pixie dust! We have to go before you go back to broom boy’s dustpan.”

“Watch your mouth, Sejeongie.” you followed after.

Once you’ve arrived at Sejeong’s frequent salon go-to, everything was already prepared. The staff stood to greet the both of you, and you sat on before the vanity. Ms. Lee, the owner, smiled so much seeing you.

“I finally get to meet you Miss Y/F/N. I very much adore your late mother’s work.” she said as she draped the cloth around you.

Your face lit up. “You’ve read my mother’s work?”

“Yes I have.” she nodded. “Her viewpoint on the world is very interesting.”

You smiled, never have you ever met anyone who’ve read your mother’s journals. She wasn’t that renowned but knowing this made you so relieved.

“So, which hairstyle you’d like your hair to be, Miss Y/F/N?”

“Please do whatever you think suits best.” you answered, looking at her through the mirror, “And just call me Y/N, I like your hospitality.”

“Very well noted.”

———

“Young Master! Please do wake up! I thought you wanted to have your hair cut today?” Mrs. Bu scolded. “Oh heavens, the stylist can’t be kept waiting!”

Jeonghan shuffled in his blanket, his eyes even droopier than they normally looked. “Fine.” making Mrs. Bu sigh a relief. “Two more minutes..”

Seeing him flopped to bed, Mrs. Bu groan and reached for the pillow and hit Jeonghan. “Dear! You really should not slack around. I thought you wanted to do this for Miss Y/N?”

Jeonghan’s eyes shot open and rushed straight to his bathroom to have a change of clothes, almost slipping on the way.

Mrs. Bu couldn’t hold in her laugh before telling herself. “You just need to mention Y/N’s name to make him move. Silly boy.”

As Jeonghan went down to the front gate, jogging, Mr. Gok was waiting in Jeonghan’s new Tesla vehicle in the shade of silver, “Mr. Gok, can you—“

Mr. Gok looked to where Jeonghan was, however his ears met with a loud thud and Jeonghan was laughing. He was on the floor, having slipped on the small steppings just below the entrance.

“In a hurry aren’t we, Young Master?”

The injured boy stood up slowly, “I must’ve sprained an ankle.” he sighed at his clumsiness. “Let’s go.”

———

You and Sejeong parted ways right after your girls’ day out and honestly, time was so limited that Sejeong had to be held back by her butler from chasing you. It was a hilarious sight that you wished you had taken a video.

Speaking of video, you still had the video you had taken of Jeonghan sleep talking. As time passed, you have secretly recorded quite a few. He wanted them deleted but you’ve kept them hidden somewhere he could never find. Mr. Ryu took notice of your smile through the rear mirror on your way back to the manor for lunch.

“Miss Y/N, aren’t we all smiles this morning” he steered and glanced at the mirror, “I’ve come to a conclusion that you have treasured the time you had with Miss Sejeong?”

“It was amazing.” you stretched, “I could’ve stayed longer but due to the project Jeonghan and I are working on, it was halted.”

Mr. Ryu nodded and smiled at your new get up as he parked by the front gate. “We have arrived Miss Y/N. And my oh my, you’re looking more beautiful each day.”

You took your backpack and entered, little Chansung approached you in pajamas, having just woken up. “Miss Y/N! You’re home! I missed you.”

Carrying the little bean, your heart never failed to soften whenever he asked for you. “I missed you too, Chansung.” giving him raspberries.

Mrs. Bu giggled and was in joy when “Oh Miss Y/N, you’ve changed your appearance! Young Master would love to see your new look.”

“See what?”

Jeonghan and you had wide eyes seeing each other as he entered the living room, hearing the loud commotion. Both of you have had a change in appearance and to take it all in so early in the morning? Your hearts would have burst any minute now, or seconds.

The lad in front of you had cut his hair short, really short, almost a mullet. He dyed them into a dirty blonde but it was leaning towards the silver side. To put more style into it, he also had them waved and middle parted. You’ve never expected him to ever cut his hair, or even imagined him in it. However, it really made him much manlier. The broadness of his shoulders were more refined now that his long locks gone, even his jawline was sharp enough to shoot into your fluttering heart.

And it stings. Because you actually loved this new look on him.

You looked away and fiddled with the straps of your backpack. The action was subtle, but Jeonghan knew it was more than enough to make him fall in love with you than he already did. He admired your new hair-do, it was still a bit long but you also had it dyed in an ombré fashion. The curls made your face light up and different, and he loved your eyes the most.

He asked himself if you were wearing a bit of make up, but it was all-natural as he looked up close.

The old man with glasses and the lady had enough of this long stare down between the two of you, so they decided to have a little fun and pushed you and Jeonghan closer.

“Goodness just hug it all out.” Mrs. Bu laughed as she carried Chansung, leaving the living room with Mr. Ryu at the same time. “Acting all shy.”

Jeonghan glared at the act but to have you in his arms again after a four day holiday? He was glad, ecstatic even.

“You look beautiful.” he began, and by the corner of your eye, he was stiff.

“Thank you, Jeonghan.” you awkwardly pursed your lips together, playing with your feet. “I dig your short hair. Makes your face stand out more.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Please, this face you’re seeing is the reason why you’re so in love.”

You laughed, but he wasn’t wrong. The air was once again awkward and quiet, only the sounds of distant chirping from birds heard. Jeonghan wanted to have you in his arms desperately, he was itching to talk to you more since you ignored his text messages. And in fact, he was quite bitter about it.

“Um, I’ll go upstairs and put my bags down.” you said, taking your bags in hand.

“Y-yeah sure, I’ll go with you.” he replied, giving you way to walk through.

You both went up to your room and had everything settled down. He was about to leave when you were going to change, but as he went to his left, you went to your right. It was a funny scene for a while until you noticed him limping.

“Ah.” Jeonghan held back a profanity, making a face as pain shot up his ankle, sitting on your bed.

You looked at him with eyebrowed raised. “Hannie, are you okay?” leaning down to check on his ankle that he had been holding.

Instead of answering you and worrying about himself, all Jeonghan could hear was the change of name calling you did, and his heart never beated this fast before.

“What did you just say?”

Realising this, you immediately stood up turned around, “Nothing, I-“

He pulled you to face him again, making you lean towards him, your knee on the side of your bed, a hand held on his chest and your faces just inches away.

“You called me ‘Hannie’.” he smirked as you blushed.

“You heard wrong!” you denied, eyes looking frantically side to side.

He hummed, just hearing your multiple excuses.

“W-what? I- I wanted to call you t-that for a while and-“

Like a slow motioned video, your body sank forward and you felt arms wrapped around your back. Jeonghan’s lips brushed to yours, and his grip on you tightened, but it was warm, and you could tell he was longing for your presence since you were away. The kiss became passionate and once you both pulled away, it left you both breathless.

“You can call me Hannie- or honey, as long as I can start calling you my B.” he said, and his cheeks were flushed as you looked back at him. “Pun intended.”

You nodded, and poke his nose in agreement. “Okay.”

He closed the gap between you two again.

“Sweet.”

#jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan au #jeonghan drabbles #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan prompt #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #yoon jeonghan #seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen stories #seventeen series #ahh the series is done!!

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omgericzimmermann · 7 years

Text

Queer Eye for the Recently Out NHL Player

hi, I’m back.

You can also read this on AO3

Jack regretted agreeing to this the moment his doorbell rang. He shoved Puck behind his knees and opened the door to a crowd of five men – four of whom would be good on defence – and a handful of cameras.

“Hi Jack!” the small, adorable blond said, grabbing his hand and forcing him to shake it. Jack shook it and tried to shoo Puck back into the apartment, since she was trying to get out into the hall to sniff all the guys and the camera men. “And who’s this?”

“Um, this is Puck,” Jack said, letting go of the unfairly cute one’s hand and stooping to wrap his arms around Puck’s legs. He hoisted her off the ground and stepped back to let them all into the apartment. Puck wagged her tail happily. “She’s a rescue.”

“She’s got just the prettiest eyes,” the cute one said, continuing to stroke Puck’s head and getting a tongue to the face for his efforts. To Jack’s relief, he laughed.

“This is – this is how you live?” the redhead asked, scanning the apartment. When Jack answered in the affirmative, he turned and immediately started petting Puck as well rather than look at Jack’s apartment. It wasn’t that he was a slob – Jack knew he wasn’t a slob – but…

Well, it had been five years and he hadn’t unpacked.

“Okay, Bitty, Dex, can I borrow Jack for a tour of his closet?”

Justin. His name was Justin. Jack had learned their names – had been conclusively lectured on their names and their personalities and their skillsets by Tater – but they’d vanished from his head the second the Fab Five walked in the door.

Bitty – who was, unfairly, cuter in person than on TV – stepped back from Puck and ducked into the kitchen with one of the cameras following him. Dex turned to look at the living room like it was causing him personal distress. Jack followed Justin down the hall.

“I don’t think we need Puck for this part of the tour,” Justin said, gently.

Jack looked down and realised he was still carrying his dog. Suddenly very aware there were cameras on him, he set her down and followed Justin into the bedroom. He heard the tell-tale tacking of Puck’s claws on the wood floor while she sought out her favourite toy to show to the new people in the house.

“Okay, so we know from all your interviews and post-game videos that you know how to dress yourself for formal events,” Justin said, gesturing at the suits that lined half of Jack’s closet. “So we know there’s the potential for greatness somewhere in there. What we’ve got to deal with is the every day.”

His eyes flicked over Jack’s outfit and Jack felt like shrinking.

“Is this what you wear when you’re going out?” Justin asked, gesturing at all of Jack.

He correctly interpreted Jack’s silence as confirmation.

“So, babe, you look like you’re dressed to rob a Burger King,” Justin told him gently, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And now, I know it’s hard, I really do, my husband spent half his childhood in Iowa. It can be a hard habit to break, but if I can break him, you can believe I’m going to break you.”

Jack stared at him, and then nodded slowly.

“Tell us Jack, what do you do for fun?” Adam asked, flipping through the stack of coffee table books Dex had unearthed somewhere in one of Jack’s boxes. “Because we watched a lot of your interviews in preparation for this episode, and you don’t give the fans a lot to work with.”

“I keep pretty private,” Jack said.

“Sure,” Adam said. “But the thing is, according to your teammates who put you up for this, you keep pretty private from them too, and you’re supposed to be friends. How do you spend a Saturday night?”

“Usually at a game,” Jack said.

“If you don’t have a game,” Adam prompted. “Okay, maybe not at night. What do you do with a day off?”

“Go to the park with Puck,” Jack said. At her name, she came trotting up and leaned against his leg, presenting her head for scratches. Jack obliged.

“And you run, and throw the frisbee,” Adam supplied. “Anything else?”

“Look at birds,” Jack heard himself say. “I did some photography in college.”

Adam smiled and adjusted his glasses. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

To Jack’s dismay, he walked into the kitchen in time to see Bitty open the pantry, stare at the mostly barren shelves in complete silence for the count of five, and then close the doors. He shook his head like a doctor declaring a patient dead, and then turned around. When he saw Jack standing there, he jumped and pressed a hand to his chest over his pineapple printed shirt.

“Lord, you gave me a fright there, Mr Zimmermann. I didn’t hear you come in,” Bitty said.

“Is my pantry that bad?” Jack asked.

“Honey, the only thing you’ve got in there is protein powder,” Bitty said, not unkindly, but like he was going to cry. Jack, stricken, tried to apologise. “No, sweet pea, you don’t need to apologise. It’s not your fault you’ve been an athlete all your life. We’re just gonna have to go grocery shopping. Get all the basics in place, and then I can teach you some nice, easy recipes to mix in with your chicken and broccoli. How’s that sound?”

Jack thought it sounded boring, but fine. He left out the boring comment.

“How do you spend your time at home?” Dex asked, although he wasn’t looking at Jack. He had a measuring tape out and was taking down the dimensions of the sunken living space. With his plain – although Jack felt sure they were designer – jeans, white t-shirt, and the pencil behind his ear, Dex seemed like he was the most straight-laced in every sense of the word. The only outward indication that he belonged in the crew of a show called Queer Eye was the fact that instead of a belt, his jeans were held up with rainbow suspenders, and he’d cuffed the sleeves of his shirt.

“Reading or watching Netflix,” Jack said, and wondered if that made him incredibly boring.

“Sounds like me,” Dex said. He stood and slid his tape measure into his pocket. “Quick question though. Did you buy all six pieces of furniture you own at Ikea?”

Jack was evicted from his apartment by Justin and Derek at the crack of dawn on day two.

“Tell me about the look, Jack,” Derek requested. “Because it almost looks like you just haven’t cut it from playoffs yet, but you’ve clearly shaved so…”

Jack awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. It was fluffy, and had always been fluffy. The only time it did anything useful was when it was wet.

“Oh, um,” Jack said. “I just never really know what to do with it.”

“Right,” Derek said. “And this week, we’ve all agreed, is about helping you feel comfortable enough and settled enough to make a connection with the place you live, and the people you spend time with. But you also need to work on making a connection with yourself, right? It’s okay to look in the mirror and think you look good.”

Jack squirmed. “Mostly I look in the mirror and think I look like my dad.”

“Nah, you’re way hotter than your dad ever was,” Justin said from the driver’s seat.

Jack snorted.

“Was that a laugh?” Justin asked, delighted.

“Bro, I think it totally was,” Derek said. “Okay. Let’s fix your hair, man.”

After he finished getting his haircut, and listening to Derek’s lectures on his personal grooming routines and the importance of moisturiser, and after he’d finished clothes shopping with Justin – which was a harrowing experience – he was passed off to Adam.

“So Jack,” Adam said, taking him on a walk through the park near his house. Adam had collected Puck - or the film crew had, Jack didn’t know and didn’t ask - and Jack’s camera and although Jack didn’t normally take pictures when other people were around, he experimented with the idea of feeling comfortable enough to loop Puck’s leash around his wrist and snap a few photos of the sunlight filtering through the leaves, and of a small child attempting to clean melted ice cream off her wrist.

“You’re not big on being in front of a camera,” Adam said.

“I’ve been in front of a camera my whole life,” Jack replied.

“Right,” Adam agreed. “I know. I’ve been a huge hockey fan since I was a kid. I even played in juniors, believe it or not.”

“Really?” Jack asked. “When and where?”

“I was in the USHL, Waterloo, Iowa. We would’ve never met,” Adam said. “But I knew who you were. Everyone did. Is that why you did it?”

Jack shrugged. He’d never answered directly the question of why.

“I guess,” Jack said. “It was...I guess I figured there was a chance it might carry more weight if it was me who went first.”

Adam nodded like this made sense and Jack raised his camera to take another picture. By the end of the trail, Bitty was lounging in the sun, letting the rays soak into his golden skin and his near glowing hair, his chin tipped back to get even more sun directly on his face, although his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses Jack felt sure were designer. Jack snapped the picture.

“And that’s why you decided to be on our show?” Adam asked.

“I figured as the first openly LGBTQ+ male hockey player, I owed it to my community to represent,” Jack said, deadpan. There was a beat, and then Adam burst out laughing. “Also because Tater and Thirdy more or less made me.”

Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “It seems to me - if I may - that you’ve been on a bit of a quest to be authentically yourself for a few years, probably since you started planning your coming out. And that’s what we want to do with you this week. We want to help you get to the point where you can really be yourself with your teammates. We’ve figured that maybe you could have some of them over for dinner on Saturday as your final event. Does that sound reasonable?”

Jack had been over to Tater’s apartment a lot, and to Thirdy and Marty’s houses, and most of them had been over to his apartment once or twice, but usually just to stop by and pick him up for something else. Having them in his apartment for a whole dinner seemed like a lot, and also like it was probably a good goal. To be himself, genuinely, with the teammates he was closest to, in a space that he intended to settle into.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds good.”

Adam nodded and clapped him on the shoulder again, before depositing him in front of Bitty.

“So, mister, are you ready to go grocery shopping?” Bitty asked, springing to his feet with a sunny grin aimed in Jack’s direction.

to be continued

#the ghost ship scribbles #queer eye au #i'm back from the dead very briefly #zimbits #of course #it had to be done

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