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kyberphilosopher · 3 years ago

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Fensterln

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me.”

Warning(s): some allusions to sex, explicit-ish language, fluff, reader has a whole ‘Black Cat’ thing going on. Word Count: 3273

Notes: This is a requested work. This is a headcanoned canon version of Superboy, meaning he is no version in particular and simply the character I figure as a whole. Reader can be any gender.

“Fensterln is when you have to climb through someone’s window in order to have sex with them, without their parents knowing about it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You know, most people think that climbing up the side of a building is easy. Like it’s nothing. They see it on TV, and in the movies, and in cartoons even, and they think, “That doesn’t look so bad!” because it doesn’t. Cartoons and actors don’t have to deal with the wind whipping their hair, constantly pushing their whole body all around, the butterflies of anxiousness making their heart thump, threatening the scenario of falling to their death. It’s terrifying. It takes a lot of skill, a lot of courage, and a lot of luck.

“Shit.”

Your right hand releases from the glass, arm slowly swinging back until it’s at your side. The same sides foot follows this pattern of rotation, until only your left fingertips and toes are stuck to the wall of the building, suctioning you to life. Below you, hundreds and hundreds of feet, is an island of grass and sand, encompassed by a large body of water. Over the tidal waves chip chopping away, there’s a distance. And in that distance, is the city, just under the inky blackness of the midnight sky.

Jump City, it’s called. You’re not too familiar with it. Most of your time is spent in Metropolis, or Gotham. Luckily, both of those cities have plenty of skyscrapers to practice scaling. One could say that you’d perfected the art of this sort of thing. The finger pads on your suit are sophisticatedly sticky, seamlessly letting you latch onto anything with grace. Your feet are the same.

The wind hits your face like sharp needles, amplified by the cold air and the incline. Your hair whips around wildly, also different from how it flows, softly, in the movies. The harsh breeze roars in your ears, louder than the thousands of explosions you’ve heard in your lifetime. Although dangerous, nothing beats the view. Those thousands of lights in the distance, the cars, the buildings, this building that you’re on now. Titan’s Tower is far larger and closer and more important than anything else at the moment.

“Okay then,” you mutter, twisting your body over to the right twice more, until finally both hands and feet are connecting against the glass in a stealthy, perfect crawling position.

You work your way up, one foot and hand at the time. You resemble that of a spider, or perhaps a cat. One, two. One, two.

His room is on one of the top floors, if not the top floor. From the two other times that you’ve done this, you remember the number of steps, the distance, the little cracks in the glass panes to look for so you know you’re close. Even from the outside, hundreds of feet up, hanging above death tantalizingly, you know exactly where you are and where you need to be. And you know, of course, that you are close.

Your right hand leaves the wall once more and reaches down to the belt on your hips. “Coming, my love,” you mutter as you flip open a small pouch attached. From the inside you pull out a slim switchblade, made specifically to cut through glass walls like this- designed it yourself.

The knife springs open. In a circle big enough to fit your entire body, you trace the blade in a wide arc from up to down, left to right. Then you flip the blade back inside, place the whole thing back into the pouch on the belt, and shove your left elbow against the middle of the glass in front of you.

It pops free immediately. The circle of wall falls forward into the room, with you not far behind.

Landing like a gymnast on your toes with your arms overhead, you are immune to the sharp pain in your femurs that comes from a sudden pressure like this. The glass pane is still intact on the floor ahead of you, which is coated with a red carpet that you recognize so well. It’s much warmer inside than it was outside, although you can still feel the night wind from behind you.

“Silent,” a voice remarks from beside you. It’s not an amused tone, really. It’s genuine and full of awe, surrounded by something casual.

You hum as you stand before throwing a look over your shoulder. Sure enough at your back, splayed casually on a bed against the wall you just broke through, is your favorite boy toy. Dark, curly hair framing his classically handsome face, nose scrunching slightly on instinct. He’s wearing the black and red super shirt he always does, coupled with the plaid pajama bottoms you’d gotten him as a gift in spring.

You want so badly to quip something back, but you both know you can’t right now. Not when you’re so close to the door. And yeah, that’s partially Conner’s fault, if not all. Too much noise would attract the attention of his team mates, the Titans, and then something probably not that great would happen. Maybe they’d throw you out. Maybe they’d fire him. Maybe things would just get weird. It’s not as if you and Connor are an official couple, even after all this time. You could stop sneaking around to see each other at any sense of danger.

You take a step towards the bed he lays on, noting the big, bright smile that lights up Superboy’s face at the motion. “Can you fix the hole?” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

Conner’s eyes go wide and the smile gets bigger.

“In the wall.”

The smile turns into an eye roll. “Yes,” he sighs, almost dramatically, pushing himself up. The boy crosses to the center of the room a few feet from you and begins picking up the perfect circle of cut window- wall while you look around the area.

You’ve snuck into Conner’s room before. Twice, in fact. It’s not clean, not horribly messy. His leather jacket is usually hanging off the dresser or door handle. Sweatshirts of different colors are littering the floor in a collective pile. It looks like a normal teenage boys room, really. It just feels very ‘Conner’.

First, he pushes the glass back into place in the wall, then he takes a few steps back. You throw him a smirk, nudging your head to encourage him to do the thing.

Conner’s eyes heat up. Little at first, as a soft yellow. Then into an all consuming scarlet that hisses out in two beams meeting in the middle between them. They move in a circle around the pane until you can’t even tell it was ever not there, and the wind you once heard no longer exists. The wall is perfectly in tact.

“Thank you, Superboy,” you tell him, tone laced overly sweet. Your hands, freezing from the cold even through the gloves of your costume, wrap around Conner’s upper arm.

“Yeah,” he tosses, back, voice low. His cheeks are turning pink.

You unhook your arms and saunter over to his mattress. As you throw yourself on and relax as you sink into the pillows, you let your eyes close. “You’re lucky I like you so much,” you tease. “Mm, do you know a lot of people who would climb up the Tower for you? I don’t.”

Upon hearing him take a single step forward, one eye pops open. “I know you missed me,” you continue.

Conner lays himself on the bed beside you, hands behind his bed with his arms bent. You turn to face him, propping your head up with your palm.

“You never answer my texts,” Conner says, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You text me?” you smirk, watching Superboys eyes sink close as he releases a sigh of defeat.

Your left leg slips over Conner’s hips. Then you pull your whole body up and over into a straddle over him, looking down at him. He’s handsome in the way nobody can argue with, so perfect and soft and structured. When you squint, he looks like Superman. But Conner’s not Superman, he’s better. You can’t explain why, or how, but he just is.

You place your palms forward on his chest at first, then backwards, behind your back, on Conner’s thighs. Your chest puffs out at the slight change of position.

Below you, the boy bites his lower lip softly in thought for a second. “What if I got you a phone?” Conner asks you. His light eyes holding yours through thick, dark lashes. “Just so you can text me back sometimes?”

“Us?” you gasp with wide eyes. “Talking? During the daytime?”

Conner glances away. “Message received. Very funny. Forget it.”

“I’m messing with you,” you promise with a smile. “Loosen up Super-Annoy.”

“So you’ll let me get you one?” Conner pushes himself up with a snap, eyes wide with some kind of excitement.

Well… would you? You haven’t had a lot of long term partners, if any. Your time with Conner has been the longest with anyone, and he’s not even really your boyfriend. He’s just… you know… the guy you kissed on a rooftop one night. The guy who once surprised you with a cone of ice cream, again on a night time rooftop, whilst you were sitting on the side of the building to watch the city below. The guy who remembered your birthday, the guy who keeps sending you the many, many texts reminding you that you can watch your favorite show on the TV in the tower. The guy who once lied to get you to ice skate with him.

Something about Conner has been enough to keep you hooked for months and months, always coming back. Sneaking into the Tower, taking more and more trips to Jump City, keeping notes of events throughout your week to tell him about when you see him.

How silly. Never giving the time of day to any other partner of yours, but for Conner? Conner has gotten at least eight months of it.

“I’ll think about it,” you roll your eyes.

“You promise?” Conner urges.

“Yes. Jeez, I promise. I will think about letting you get me a phone that only you have the number to.”

“Please don’t laugh at me about this.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“It feels like it.”

“Connor,” you clasp a hand on his shoulder, pushing back laughter. “Have I ever laughed at you?”

“W- Is that- is that a serious question?” Conner’s eyebrows raise.

“Get up,” you roll your neck. “I want to change positions.”

The boy below you shifts. For a quick moment, something pokes between your hips from underneath. Your pupils dilate in response, but by the time they finish, the movement has ceased. “Tell me about your day.”

“I want to lay down,” you say as you stretch. “I just scaled up the side of the skyscraper-”

“You love it.”

“-and it was oh, so cold. I’m tired.”

“That’s not your day.”

You just stare at him expectantly, not quite sure what it is you’re waiting for.

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me,” Conner concedes. “You chose to be up there.”

“Prove it,” you challenge.

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy below you hisses as if annoyed. “I get it,” he says, but his arms are already snaking around your torso to pull you close and slowly pull you into a new position.

You lay on your side, back against Conner’s broad chest. His arms stay wrapped around your middle as he curls up against you on instinct, legs quick to tangle with your own. You know he must really be interested in you if he’s not going to mention that your ‘work’ shoes are still on while in bed.

“You’re an ass,” he mutters into your hair.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ha,” you chuckle once. “Douche.”

“Please tell me about your day now?” you hear Conner almost plead. “Please?”

One of your hands, your right one, rests on top of Conner’s against your stomach. “Oh, you know. The usual. I helped out a small jewelry store today, snuck into a big building, currently hiding from Nightwing- you know how it is.”

“There wasn’t much crime today. I mostly just stayed in. You know that big building you snuck into?”

“Such a douche,” you breathe.

“Jealous much?” Superboy rumbles against your ear.

“I’m gonna tell Dick,” you tell him. “I’ll send an anonymous tip that one of the Titan’s is a big poop face.”

Conner puts his whole face in your hair. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not fair you guys get a whole building to yourselves. What are you even using half these floors for? People in Gotham are struggling.” You frown. “Well, except for Wayne. But you know what? He’s a douche too. You’d get along.”

Conner squeezes you once. Then you feel him still from behind you, not even breathing. And then-

“Move in then.”

At once, your brows furrow. “What?”

Your companion squeezes you once more. “Move in. Move in with me. In the Tower.”

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times, eyes looking around. You can’t see Conner, but you can feel him out. His eyes are closed, still inhaling the scent of you shamelessly. It’s hard for people to catch you off guard, not just like this, but at all. You just have that sarcastic, witty, sultry reputation. And for him- Super-Annoy, of all people- to just throw you off so easily?

“I’m not a Titan,” you decide on explaining, almost asking.

“Become one, then.”

“I don’t have the money to move in. The rent must be crazy.”

“I’ll pay for you.”

“Conner,” you swallow. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.” His head pops up. When you turn yours a little, you can look up at him, and he can look down at you. “Move into the Tower.”

Now your eyes are wide, and his are relaxed. No, Conner’s are focused, drilling into your own. “I’m... hardly Titan’s material.”

This was true. You’ve been skirting the gray line far longer than you’ve known Superboy, and he’s been super since the beginning of his creation. The first time you’d met was about ten seconds before you’d robbed a bank and sent him a wink before disappearing.

“You just told me, not five minutes ago, that you helped a small business. Helping people is what heroes are all about. You can do this, Y/N. You are Titan’s material.”

Shit. He’s right.

“Why not?” Conner questions.

“I... um...”

You’ve never lived with another person before. Your family, once upon a time, sure. Not friends. Not Dick Grayson, or Kori, or Rachel fucking Roth. And certainly not Superboy- Super-Annoy. Not someone you have a ‘thing’ with. What would that mean for the two of you? And when things go terribly, terribly wrong, what then?

Gotta’ think fast.

Your face is wiped clean, replaced by your signature smirk. “Get me a phone first. Then I’ll consider it.”

Conner doesn’t budge though. You wonder if X-Ray vision can see through lies too. “I mean it,” the boy tells you. “I want you here.”

“I have to survive the night in the building with boy prodigy and star flame.”

“Starfire.”

“Whatever. I have to do that first. There’s a reason we sneak me in, you know.”

Your free hand reaches up and cups Conner’s cheek without you telling it to. You ask your brain why, but yet, your palm doesn’t move. It feels over Conner’s cheekbones, encouraging you to look deeper into his somehow soft eyes. Your fingertips can even feel his hair, which is in need of a wash, as they get comfortable.

“For you,” you finish the sentiment, voice now genuine- also not predicted. “Sneaking in for you.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a secret,” the boy above you whispers, pouring his entire heart into it.

You answer with a snort.

If anything, Conner’s the secret. If he had his way, the two of you would probably be on your honeymoon at this moment. Hell, your whole relationship and subsequent marriage would be a honeymoon. You’re the one letting him follow you around. You’re the one never giving him just what he wants.

But then again, you’re the one who keeps coming back. Conner’s the one that never left.

“Trust me,” you nod with a humored grin. “I don’t.”

Conner sighs and falls back down to rest behind you. “Good.”

Besides his breathing, then there is silence.

Really? Telling you to move in? Of course it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to him. Of course he has the solution to all the reasons why not. Your fairly certain that Conner hasn’t thought about this until mentioning it, but even then, how did he have all the answers so fast? Where would you stay? With him? Sandwiched between Conner and Wally West playing video games for the rest of your life? Dying after Donna Troy catches you accidentally stealing her lunch?

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Conner begins, “but you should really stay the night.”

In response, you practically burst. “You hate being told what to do!” you say as you squirm in his arms. “Now you’re giving me suggestions?”

Conner sits up again so he can look down at you with a little frown. Luckily, it’s too nice of a view to be really scared of anything he could do. “Shh! You’re gonna get caught, Y/N.” Then Superboy’s eyes widen a little. “If you lived here, you wouldn’t have to be so quiet, either. You could just come through the front door.”

“Oh my God,” you squeeze your eyes closed. “Conner...”

One battle at a time.

“Fine,” you begrudge. “I’ll stay the night.”

Conner tightens his grip around your form happily in response. “Will you need any help in the morning?”

“No. No, I got it.”

Silence.

Say it. Say it. Say it.

“Conner? I, uh...”

Say it.

“I don’t have any sleeping clothes,” you lie.

“Sleeping?” you hear the boy behind you whisper. “I didn’t think we were going to be sleeping.”

“Now who’s going to get us in trouble?” you smirk. “Seriously though. I’ve been wearing my suit all day.”

“I can get you out of it.”

“You can’t just see through it?” you question. “Don’t you have X-Ray vision?”

Conner groans. “You’re ruining it.”

You smile. Conner’s the only partner of yours you realize you’re actually happy to be around. “I think you just want us to get caught.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Yayyy. Request finished. Next I have a Reverse Flash request, and then I should be good with the DC requests for now. Other than that I have some Jason Todd things, something for Damian and 2 fics for a character I haven’t written for before but are looking pretty good. I hope this satisfied the prompt that I was given in the request. Let me know anything you want or whatever.

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monkey-network · 2 years ago

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Good Stuff: The Bob's Burgers Movie

Dedicated to Dale Baer, Dave Creek, Denise Fuller, & Tuck Tucker

Laughing at the fact that Bob's Burgers got a movie before Family Guy, lmao. Anyways, it's astounding crazy that we got a theatrical release for a cartoon sitcom, like since Teen Titans GO(?) This prepares that unfortunate lingering doubt of "should it have deserved this"? I say fuck that doubt, if the risk is there then what's life without a little adventure? However, is this good as a movie? Real question is why would Bob's Burgers get a movie anyways?

Now personally, I love Bob's Burgers no matter how long it's gone on. It's as much a comfort show as it is a more upbeat successor to Home Movies. I say what makes it work is, somewhat unlike Home Movies, you get everyone's perspective and the chaos comes well with the Belcher family jumping into the thick of it by force or accident. That's what we get with this movie where we got both a murder mystery and a time limit for something miraculous to happen. All this before summer truly starts. It's a simple adventure that works because it doesn't force things to be bombastic or larger in scale, at least anything that the show hasn't worked with before. I won't lie that people have a point that this film is a greatest hits story; copping plots from previous episodes. Then again, I won't say that's a bad thing. Honestly, I say it still does something better than The Simpsons Movie.

The family got to remain strong and genuine

Now I love The Simpsons Movie, but I don't believe it holds up as well because the status quo of this ever continuing series negated the meaningful growth that stemmed from the series calling the family's relationship with Homer into question. It's like you get it in the moment but it's not like Beavis and Butt-head Do America where it could get away with it being a one-off adventure. Bob's Burgers doesn't feel the need to dissect and re-analyze the family dynamic because the journey they all go on is enough. We get development, for Louise especially, but I'm glad the movie doesn't forcibly wedge in drama between the Belchers on top of everything else before it all returns to normal. They're supportive and grounded from the start and it's just as enjoyable when they finally get together in the final act when it matters. As a fan, them just getting to be there for each no matter what worked well here just as much here as it has in the show. Add on it being a spontaneous musical and it's seriously just a charming good time.

I didn't go into this film expecting them to rock the boat crazy; I didn't believe this to be some insultingly safe film either. Is it for the fans? Mostly yes, but even if I wasn't one I had more than a nice time. I want to cherish this for being an unapologetically laid back experience unmatched by cartoon based films like it that seek to, or have to, be bigger and louder. Aside it looking more cinematic, it didn't need a ton of bells and whistles be a great movie. It was honestly more refreshing than I believe people will give it credit for. Box office be damned, this movie was worth it.

9/10. Juicy and fulfilling like a homemade hamburger

#the bob's burgers movie #Bob's Burgers #bob's burgers movie #bobs burgers #bobs burger movie #animation #movies #fox animation #Disney #cartoons #reviews #Good Stuff

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neptune-midheaven · 3 years ago

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The Third House Placements and Their Handwriting Styles ~💖🌺🐚

Welcome back babes 😁🙏✨ I’m back posting someee bit but anything nonetheless ! This was a post I wanted to do for a while, this really intrigued me💫

I’m going to be talking about third house placements and their unique to the placement writing styles. Third house rules hands, arms, fingers and writing, correct !😄🎶 There is a correlation between handwriting and third house in astrology as it literlaly rules over it, so components in your third house astrology will dictate how this will look. Use all of the possible combinations you have in your chart ! 🙂☝️

For generational planet ruled signs, use whatever works better.

��Sun/leo ~

May have a gift in being very dramatic and showy whenever they express their ideas or in their communication they can be very bright and charming. They’re very talented at absorbing knowledge and facts, they usually are the types of people to dish out random facts about anything whoever you’re talking to them, they have so much random knowledge kept in their minds it’s almost funny. They’re silly and a bit childlike people,

Handwriting style 🦁

Regal, nice looking. They have a confidence to their writing, if the whole class wrote on one piece of paper, theirs would stand out more, maybe a “I can trust what they write is the best there is here” is what people reading over theirs would think.

🌙Moon/cancer ~

Loves sentimental things, talking about the past and family makes them feel good and safe, attachments to the mother, most likely missed her or their family whenever they had to go to school, homesickness at school

Handwriting style 🌝

Soft, homely words. Shyer? They write with a grace and their words are poetically beautiful. It looks like something out of a movie. Nostalgic, their ink is softer and lighter, their curves are soft, their lines and o’s are soft and so sensitive. SO gentle and calm. It’s sleepy?

💫Mercury/gemini/virgo ~

The wittiest, most social people ever. They’re all definitely extroverts, I am one with my gemini in 3rd house ova here 😘, they love talking, and never stop talking and love chatting about anything and never stop chatting about anything, they love walking up to random people and never stop walking up to random people and staring a convo with them out of nowhere 😀. My friends bully me all the time for this. I understand. The one kid in school with like all the answers, they just knew the answer to things and easily got good grades. People asked them for answers all of the time since they are so smart and intelligent, they absorb what they’re being taught so quickly they don’t ever let the teacher finish talking. They’re fast and versatile.

Handwriting style 🤸‍♀️

Fast writing, so many words. They write super fast and probably have so many typos in their essays and papers. Handwriting can look like crap 🤨😐. Like there’s no rush, you’re gonna get your paper done on time! You can’t read what they write al of the time because they rush through writing everything. Their letters and words look fancy somehow, like they were written by the scholar of all scholars, they’re just unintelligible words and sentences. Teachers may need to ask what the student with this placement writes because they can’t read it. Scribbles, jumbled and mixing up things all over the page. You can tell they write fast with the jagged lines and crooked n’s and t’s ajakksks.

💕Venus/taurus/libra ~

Very sweet and charming way of talking to others, they have strong persuasive powers with their honeyed words, they can almost charm you into doing anything, they seem so innocent and sweet. These people are very kind though of course! They love giving others compliments, strangers, their friends, their family, they’re such sweet people to have in your life. They attract partners and relationships by doing their daily tasks, lovers can show up suddenly when they’re running errands or they can attract a lot of interest at their school.

Handwriting style 🍓

The most pleasant, aesthetic handwriting i have ever seen, even if their handwriting is bad it still becomes an art style somehow, i don’t really know how else to describe that. It’s like no matter how bad it could possibly look or how incoherent it is, their script still manages to look NICE.

💥Mars/aries ~

Very loud voices, a bit like sun, but it’s more like their power and strength is used whenever they talk. They could be meaner or aggressive classmates, angry talkers, I know so many people with this placement who talk so mad, so much cursing, ranting and screaming. We love it all.

Handwriting style 🥵

Very rough and fast handwriting, similar to mercury; however, it has more fervor, the messiest and most impulsive handwriting out of all of the other placements.

🐚Jupiter/sagittarius ~

Loud and expressive communicators, similar to the sun here, but they’re louder and bigger. You can hear their voices from across the room and they’re usually the know-it-all’s in the classroom. Very friendly and fun to talk to, they talk about so many exotic and interesting things. They love to crack a joke or two. Also, it’s something about these peoples voices are just FUNNY. Like how they talk is like hilarious and jolly in a good way. It make you wanna crack up and feel good. They make you feel good and BLESSED when they talk to you.

Handwriting style 🍀

Larger letters, I’ve noticed they have bigger “holes” and like to expand their letters over the pages, their words go over the lines and it could be messy usually, sort of like mars fashion but it’s just wider words on the paper.

🪐Saturn/capricorn ~

Very punctual people with perfect punctuation. They hate it whenever their thoughts are messy or unorganized, it makes it hard for them to think thoroughly like they are expected to. They’re the smarter most mature minds in the room. Very deep, daddy voices. IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT. THEY SOUND LIKE THEIR DADS. ITS CRAZY. They talk with so authority and sureness, their diction is so perfect it makes everyone mad.

Handwriting style ✏️

Perfect handwriting, they hate it when their sentences look off or unstructured on a page. The most rounded o’s, the straightest lines and perfect length for every letter they write. Correct punctuation once again, their words look like they were printed by a typewriter.

🌪Uranus/aquarius ~

Very different minds, they could feel strange or odd in school, like they were just the oddball learners, had weird interests, or was a huge nerd over so many subjects. Crazy coffee drinkers, the ones with monster drinks and twenty textbooks that are about to fall out of their open backpacks because they rushed to get to school on time. The craziest people actually, their minds are like on drugs, they can be hard to keep up with.

Handwriting style ⚡️

Weird ways they write certain styles of their letters and their words can “come out” of the page. They write SO fast this is usually why they take harder classes in school with more work just solely on the fact they can write much faster than anyone else. Maybe comic-book looking writing? They’re dynamic and crazy like harsh lines and crazy o’s, there’s something unique about the way they write.

🌊Neptune/pisces ~

Such idealistic thinkers. They want to see the good in their surroundings, they do need to be careful with this because surroundings and things can be deceiving. They can absorb such much of their surroundings, they can be quieter communicators because of this. It can be taken advantage of since they’re overwhelmed by conversations or they can be easily fooled by the wrong people. Like they believe things that aren’t even true? Or they like tell a lot of white lies when they’re talking that make people go like uhh is that even true?😀😀 But they play it off when they’re caught lying, it’s very deceptive. The quietest kids in school that either did drugs or tried to escape class by doing some illegal stuff, or they just left. Some were never seen at school.

Handwriting style 🌀

The sleepiest handwriting I’ve ever seen. It’s provably hard to read what they write. Faded words maybe? Faded words on faded paper. So poetic though, it’s pretty but not in a venus way, it like captivates you. It’s hypnotizing they way they draw out their e’s and their a’s have a dreamy tail that connects to their next letter.

🥀Pluto/scorpio ~

Obsessive minds, they want to know everything possible, they want to reach the deepest depths on information and knowledge. They are motived and driven to know as much as they can, and they always seem to succeed. They’re very smart. The kids in school who would keep to themselves or would obsess over what the teacher taught them, the way they communicate is like they’ve read the same page over and over again for days. Obsessive.

Handwriting style 🖤

Darker, hard to see words, they can have obsessive writing. It’s perfect but fast writing, maybe a bit scary that they have the ability to write so much with so much power? People can be freaked out with just how much they know already. So their words can be very persuasive, so the letters would be magnetic, you love their writing once you read one of their essays. You’re obsessed, just like they are.

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pikablu410 · 4 years ago

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Study Session

“Thursday at 12 sound good?” The text read

“Yeah, that works for me.” He had text back.

David took a deep breath then sighed. What had he gotten himself into? He was going on a date with a girl he met on Tinder later that day. Thankfully the date was at 6, so he had enough time to get ready before then. All he had to do now was…

“Great, you’re here! You ready to study some organic chemistry?” A painfully cheerful voice nearly shouted at him.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” David mumbled to himself. He didn’t even need to study for this class. Why did Steven even ask to form a study group with him? Neither of them were struggling with the materials, and David was pretty sure they both had A’s in the class. Maybe it was just because Steven wanted friends and they were both the only freshmen in their class. David wasn’t against making new friends, but Steven was just...odd. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Steven didn’t sit right with him.

“Alright, I’ll go get some water and snacks. You can sit down anywhere and I’ll be right back.” Steven said. David was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t realized he was in Steven’s room now. Freshmen were required to live on campus, but the dorms were pretty nice for a college campus. In their particular dormitory the rooms were more like apartments. Each one had a living room with a small kitchen in the middle and two bedrooms off to the sides, each with their own bathroom and enough space for two beds.

David decided to sit down while Steven was out of the room. There were a few posters of video games and various knicknacks on the desk; a pencil sharpener, a desk lamp, a little stand-up figure, but overall the room was pretty bland given Steven’s boisterous personality.

“Alright, let’s get studying!” David heard, turning around to see Steven carrying 2 bags of chips and at least 4 water bottles. How long was he planning to study for? Steven then sat down, got out a notebook, some papers from class their professor had given them, and a few pencils.

“If you need some materials don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here if you need anything.” Steven said. It felt weird, like Steven was trying to be really personal with him. David couldn’t put his finger on the word, but that was why he was so distant around Steven. He just pulled out his notebook and a pencil and started writing.

After some minutes of studying, David heard some sort of distorted noise. He looked down and realized it was his stomach growling.

“Are you hungry? I got the chips out for a reason.” Steven said, pushing the bag towards David.

“I guess I am. I thought I had eaten enough before coming here.” David said, opening the bag of corn chips and taking a few out. For whatever reason, David was starting to feel starved.

“Maybe just eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich wasn’t enough.” David reasoned to himself as he took another handful of chips. He hadn’t noticed it, but half the bag was gone just from him alone. Steven hadn’t eaten a single chip.

“I like your shirt. It goes well with your, uh, jeans.” Steven tried making conversation, pointing towards David’s plaid button-up shirt.

“Thanks.” David simply said, grabbing another handful of chips. He had moved onto the second bag without noticing. Steven hadn’t said anything about it, just continuing to go over the content.

After about an hour of studying, David was ready to head off and prepare for his date. It was five hours away, but anything would be better than this marching through the swamp of organic chemistry. He was just looking for an excuse, for Steven to stop talking about resonance structures and ethyl substituents. Just thinking of the words made him feel ill.

However, as Steven was talking, he put his left arm around David’s back, like a cliche couple would in a movie theater. He was about to shrug it off with his arm, but he couldn’t get it to move. It was like his arm was paralyzed. David then noticed an aching sensation in his groin. He could feel his cock stiffening in his boxers, and even against the fabric of his jeans. Was he getting turned on by Steven flirting with him?

David looked over at Steven, the sensation in his pants only intensifying as he did. When had Steven looked so cute? David couldn’t take his eyes off of the boy, just listening to him ramble about some molecule they were working on. As Steven was talking, David couldn’t help but let out a moan. Steven looked surprised at first, but then a smile grew on his face. Then, Steven put his pencil down and took his hands to David’s jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down until David’s throbbing cock was released. It looked like it would cum just from a slight touch. “Shh, just let it happen.” Steven whispered into David’s ear. Then, he started jerking David off. David’s moans grew louder and louder, but he was trying not to cum. He had to hold on to his glasses to keep them on his face. The sane part of him knew this was wrong, that he didn’t actually like Steven like this. But as more and more doubts entered his mind, the harder it was to actually hold back.

“Just let it out. You know you want to.” Steven urged. David couldn’t take it anymore, busting his load right in Steven’s hand. Ropes of white goo burst up in the air, covering Steven’s hand, David’s legs and a bit of his jeans. He hated to admit it, but that was probably the best handjob David had gotten in his entire life. Steven got a tissue and cleaned up his hand as well as the resulting mess on David. David was just sitting back, still unable to believe that just happened.

As Steven finished cleaning up, he said, “You sound hungry. Why don’t we take a break to eat.” Steven then got up and went to the kitchen, David finding it hard not to follow. He wasn’t hungry, was he? A rumbling in David’s stomach proved that wrong, but for some reason this felt off to him. Why was he listening to Steven so intently?

The smell of parmesan and fried meat stopped David’s thoughts, realizing he was now sitting at the table near the kitchen. In front of him sat a plate of fried chicken and a separate plate of lasagna. David was hesitant to take a bite, but his growling stomach was urging him to consume.

“Don’t be shy. I made it all for you.” Steven sweetly said, pouring David a soda to drink.

David knew this was wrong. Part of his mind was screaming for him to get up and leave before this got worse. He felt so helpless and trapped, confused as to why he was doing what he was doing.

But the larger part of David’s brain wanted to eat, and that’s exactly what he did. Grabbing a huge forkful of lasagna, David stuffed himself with the cheesy, meat-filled pasta. He moaned as he swallowed the dish, immediately going back for another bite.

“This is really good!” David nearly moaned out as he took his third bite within ten seconds of the last two.

Steven smiled and sat down next to David, who took a large bite out of the fried chicken. It too was delicious, as if the meat fell right off the bone. He didn’t notice it, but as David ate pasta sauce and grease covered the edges of his mouth. The food was just too good to resist. So he kept eating.

And eating.

And- how long had he been eating this lasagna and fried chicken? He must’ve been at least close to finishing by now. So why did the plates still look like they were full of food? Steven must’ve gotten up to get more, David reasoned to himself. But part of him knew something wasn’t right about this. He was too busy eating to question Steven though.

As David sat back to take a breather, he let out a huge burp. He had been drinking so much soda he hadn’t noticed how gassy he felt. David then felt a hand on his stomach, looking over to see Steven rubbing it.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, just keep eating.” He seductively cooed.

At hearing this, David looked down to see he was now sporting a gut. He could see stretches of skin peek through his button-up, the buttons near his belly struggling to hold on. David was disgusted and wanted to get up, but he felt a familiar feeling that prevented him from leaving.

“No, I can’t be hard again. This can’t be turning me on. I just came. I hate being fat. Why am I so hard?!” David’s mind was racing. He couldn’t help himself. He wanted so badly to leave or just wake up and leave this nightmare behind him. However, he just sat back and let Steven rub his now bulbous gut.

“It’s okay. You can let it out. You don’t have to worry with me around.” Steven once again cooed,

“You should eat. I don’t want you to go hungry.” He added on, and quickly after David was stuffing his face with more greasy chicken and lasagna.

David’s mind was once again fighting a losing battle. Steven’s charm and the food was just too much for David to handle, and he was further plunged into gluttony against his own will.

As David took another huge mouthful of lasagna, he heard a “ping!” sound before his belly jiggled for a few seconds. The feeling was enough to push David over the edge and he came in his pants, moaning loudly as he did so. David’s mind was so overwhelmed with pleasure he was unable to think straight.

Once his mind had cleared, David had forgotten what he was worrying about. He rubbed his gut as he looked over at the empty plates that once held lasagna and fried chicken on them.

“Thanks for the meal, Steven. You know I love to eat.” David joked as he jiggled his belly a bit. It wasn’t that he wanted to be chubby, but that was just a side effect of eating so much. That didn’t stop him, though. Food was just too good to resist.

“You’re welcome. I still have more if you want.” Steven offered.

David thought for a second before impulsively saying, “Sure, why not?” It wouldn’t mess with his diet that much. Again, not like he cared. Part of him wanted to care, but it was becoming easier and easier for David to shake that worry off. If he wanted to eat, who was he to stop himself?

Steven brought a multilayered cake to the table, as well as a box of donuts, and David was already feeling himself drool at the mere sight. A milkshake was also place in front of him, instead of the soda he had before.

“If you want more, or anything different, just tell me. I’m happy to oblige.” Steven said with a smile on his face. David loved that smile. He wished he could ask Steven out...wait, no he didn’t. He had a date with a girl sometime this week. At least David thought it was sometime this week. His mind was foggy, probably from all the studying and eating. A quick nap when he got back to his room would fix that, David assured himself.

The food in front of him would have to do for now, David reassured himself. And with that he grabbed a donut, taking a huge bite out of the treat. He quickly learned they were filled with cream, which only added to the taste and pleasure of eating them. Licking the cream off his face, David grabbed another donut immediately after finishing his first. Then, he took a slice of cake, grabbing another just to satisfy himself.

As David ate, he thought he heard a noise below him. Like a noise you would hear in an old house. Leaning back to take a break, David confirmed that he was hearing creaks below him. Looking down, David noticed a larger belly than before. It swelled out into his lap, rising and falling with each deep breath he took. David counted 2 rolls that were apart of his gut, a gut that nearly reached his knees. He noticed two more missing buttons on his shirt; evidence that he actually had grown that large. That wasn’t the only result of his growth, as David could feel cool air on parts of his thighs. Sure enough when David looked at his legs, the seams of his jeans had torn to reveal flab that was stretching the fabric tight. In fact, David wasn’t even sure his jeans were covering his rear anymore, his underwear working overtime to obscure his nudity.

At first, panic arose in David’s stomach. He didn’t want to get fatter, thinking others would be repulsed by him. For the first time at Steven’s, it seemed like David’s mind was fighting back and winning. David tried to stand up, but he didn’t realize how much energy that would take; energy he didn’t have.

David was about to try getting up again, after a few seconds of catching his breath, but suddenly a sweet smell ran through his nostrils. In front of him a donut was being held. It was on the same level as his mouth, as if it were destined to be consumed by him. Unable to resist the smell, and the taste, David opened his mouth and devoured the pastry.

“That’s good. Keep it up. Just relax and eat.” Steven said, holding another donut for David to eat. He was now losing the battle, just as he thought there was a turnabout. He felt a hand on his gut, realizing that Steven was now massaging his belly and feeding him at the same time. David didn’t want to get up now. This was too good of an opportunity to miss. And the opportunity only got better as David felt a familiar sensation below his gut.

The big guy started to moan, the taste of the food and Steven’s treatment of his stomach creating a pleasure previously unknown to him. Another donut, more moaning. Another donut, it got even louder. Steven had to move on to feeding David handfuls of cake. Icing got around his lips, lips that moaned even more frequently in pleasure. David was desperately trying to reach under his stomach to relieve himself, but he was struggling both due to his stomach and the resistance in his mind. He knew this would be submitting to something he’s not, but why was it so hard to resist then?

Another ping echoed throughout the room. David realized there was only one more button holding his shirt together. The last resistance.

“Why are you resisting something that makes you so happy? Admit it. You love to eat. You love growing fatter, and being fat.” Steven quietly pressured into David’s ear.

David was holding back from moaning and let out an exasperated, “No…”

“Aww, it’s alright. You’ll change your mind soon. It’s so much better to let go than resist. Just give in.” Steven cooed again, his hand moving lower down David’s stomach. David knew what came next. He wanted to stand up and run out of there, but he felt too heavy to even move from the chair.

David tried to say something to stop Steven, but another handful of cake stopped him. The taste clouded his train of thought, unable to resist for a few seconds. Soon after, he felt a touch on his dick, realizing it was too late to leave now. Now David let out a loud moan, his dick feeling especially sensitive to Steven’s touch.

“No...no more…” David panted out as he was jerked off.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you that well. It sounded like you said ‘more’?” Steven asked as he let David demolish another donut. David let out a moan, struggling to keep himself together.

“M...more. I...want...more…” David panted, desperate for food. His mind had all but given up now.

“That’s what I thought.” Steven whispered as he fed David another handful of cake.

Steven then held up the milkshake to David’s mouth and had him chug the creamy drink. Despite drinking from it frequently, it still felt like it was full when David was drinking it. David could feel the last button on his shirt slowly start to come undone, and sure enough he heard another ping as he finished the milkshake. Shortly after, David let loose and came from the pleasure of growing and Steven teasing his cock. Moaning louder and longer than he had all day, David covered the bottom of his belly in his sticky goo, Steven backing off to clean his hand.

Again, David couldn’t remember what had just happened a few seconds ago. All he remembered was immense pleasure, and, after seeing two empty plates, he attributed it to that.

“Thanks for the food, Steven. And thanks for helping me gain, I don’t really have anyone else this supportive of me.” David said as he jiggled his gut. It covered his thick thighs and poured off to the sides of them a bit. His moobs were the size of porn star’s pair of breasts, and they were starting to go under his thick arms. As David felt his belly, he realized his jeans had torn off, and he could barely feel his underwear on his ass. Despite all this, David didn’t seem to mind. He seemed more relaxed and laid back than ever before.

“What are you up to now?” Steven asked, still in the kitchen.

“I actually just recently got past 600 pounds.” David said proudly.

“Nice! I think that calls for some celebration.” Steven said, pulling something out of the oven.

A few seconds later, Steven placed a deluxe, meat lover’s pizza right in front of David. The pizza took up at least three quarters of the table, and if David had to actually guess it looked to be 18 inches across. There were mushrooms, pepperonis, pieces of ground beef and tons of cheese. Steven then set down a glass of beer next to David’s plate.

“We can have a bit of fun because of this, can’t we?” Steven offered, but David didn’t need much convincing.

The big guy immediately tore a slice of the pizza off, downing half of it only to quickly follow up with a chug of beer. Steven knew David loved beer. He did love beer, right? His mind was too cloudy to remember. But as he chugged more, David let out a big belch. It surprised him at first, but David went back for another swig only to let out another belch. Steven refilled David’s glass as he went back for more pizza.

Cheese and sauce got all over his mouth and chubby cheeks. Some of it also dripped down onto his stomach, and of course it got all over his hands. David decided to lick his lips and clean up his face, but he was a little confused when he felt a bit of stubble on his face. Licking his chubby fingers off, David felt his face to in fact touch stubble on his chins, cheeks and upper lip. It was like he was growing a goatee, but David was confused as to how that happened. He was usually clean shaven, so this wasn’t there this morning. As David went to get the cheese that dripped onto his gut, he noticed that was hairier too. It was just some fuzz, but there was definitely hair growing on his chest and belly, it being more and more prevalent as he approached his crotch.

David was confused, but a slice of pizza being shoved into his mouth snapped him out of his haze. He happily ate the pizza Steven had fed him, as well as the beer Steve had him chug. David felt lucky to have such a cute friend who was willing to find him. He just wished he had the confidence to ask him out. Unfortunately, as he thought that, David let out a massive fart from his rear.

“S-sorry.” He stuttered as he went back to devouring slices of pizza.

“Don’t be. You probably liked it anyways.” Steven chuckled, getting up to refill David’s beer again.

As he thought about what Steven had said, David started to realize that Steven was right. David let out a belch, and he got immense pleasure from it. Exploding from his rear gave the same effect. Feeling his body jiggle from the vibrations, the power he felt from it and just the overall feeling made David very happy. That was one of the reasons he loved beer. It always made him gassy, and he was glad Steven didn’t seem to mind.

Going back to reach for more pizza, and more beer to drink, David continued to eat. He didn’t bother to think about how the entire pizza should’ve been gone by now, just wanting to consume the cheesy goodness. David didn’t hear the creaking emanating beneath him, too busy devouring everything placed in front of him. As he went to scoop up some cheese that fell onto his chest, the chair finally snapped and sent David to the ground. His body jiggled for nearly a minute after the shock, David letting out a huge fart to continue the sensational feeling. All the wriggling had turned David on and he could feel his dick start to grow hard just from the feeling of his body moving so.

Looking down at his body to get the cheese and sauce that fell there, David realized he had grown bigger. His stomach was pooling onto the ground, off of the sides of his thighs. And his thighs felt pretty wide, being twice as wide as a thin person’s waist. He couldn’t feel his underwear anymore, and he assumed it snapped off while he was eating. His tits felt like they were drooping off to the sides as well, and when David grabbed them he felt that his nipples were a lot more sensitive than before. If he wasn’t hard before, he definitely was now.

That wasn’t the only change, as David saw that his stomach was now covered in hairy fur. It was particularly noticeable in between his moobs, around his deepened belly button and towards the bottom of his belly, near his dick. David knew he was never this hairy, but for some reason it felt right, like it was normal. Feeling his face, David discovered that what had just been stubble before was now a full on goatee. It covered his other, fatty chins too, resulting in most of the goatee emphasizing the beard, but David was more worried about why it was there than how it looked. As David further felt his face, he realized there were bits of sauce and cheese stuck in his goatee. Instinctually, he licked around his lips to eat them, the foreign texture of his face sending surprising chills of pleasure down his spine.

“Steven! I need help!” David said, struggling to stand up. He hadn’t realized how fat he had gotten.

“What is- Oh! That was what that noise was. Congratulations on getting big enough to break something under your fat ass!” Steven cheerily said, as if David wasn’t a complete mess.

“S-Steven…” David panted, “I think I got too big. I have to be at least 800 pounds right now, and I don’t know how I got so b-big so fast. Plus, I’m all h-hairy!” Whenever he tried to get up by himself, David had to catch his breath. Steven kneeled down next to the fatty and started to rub his hairier belly. David let out a fart and started to realize what was happening, but he was too big to do anything about it.

“Don’t worry. This is what you really want. Just relax and I’ll take care of it.” Steven hypnotically said, bringing himself closer and closer to David. David knew what was going on, but it was too late now. He was never this fat, nor hairy, nor gassy. He never wanted this...or did he? His mind was in conflict. He couldn’t remember himself as anything other than a fat, hairy slob, so why was his mind fighting that reality?

“Shh, just let me take care of it and we’ll be alright.” Steven whispered as he kissed David on the lips, pushing his tongue inside the slob’s mouth. David was surprised at first, but he couldn’t help himself but to reciprocate. Feeling his tongue in Steven’s mouth set something off in him, and he no longer wanted to resist. He was Steven’s big fatty, and Steven was his feeder. They loved each other, and took care of each other. As they kissed, David came under his belly, now submitting to this reality.

As they separated, David let out a deep, long belch. Both chuckled, Steven going back to rub David’s hairy belly afterwards.

“Glad I wasn’t in your mouth for that one.” Steven joked, but David just took pride in his gassiness. They both loved it, so why should he be so ashamed?

“Can you help me up now? I-I really can’t do much on the ground here.” David joked, struggling to push himself off the ground again. Steven just giggled and helped David off the ground, grabbing him by his love handles and slowly heaving the blob up.

“I wanna do one last thing.” Steven said, winking and slowly helping David waddle to his bedroom. David was already getting excited again. He didn’t think about how he was already getting hard again, or how he had already came so many times today. He just wanted to get in bed with Steven.

However, the short walk from the kitchen to Steven’s bed had tired him out, David’s body now covered in sweat from the exertion of so much force and energy. As he sat down on Steven’s bed, the frame letting out a screeching creak in protest, he rubbed his gut to feel the sweat hair move around from his hand. The feeling didn’t feel new, and it turned him on since reminded him of how much of a slob he was.

“Alright, you know what to do.” Steven said, and as if by second-nature, David leaned on his stomach, sticking his fat ass out as he laid there. Steven smiled, stripping himself before getting behind David.

“Time to have you finally submit to being my fat piggy.” Steven said before plunging himself into David’s rear. David let out a loud moan, new images flashing through his mind. He imagined himself as a skinny guy, but it quickly faded from his memory. He saw images of himself making out with girls, and dressing up for dates with them. Those too, faded. They were replaced by images of David, butt naked, plunging his face into a wedding cake. Of going out to fast food restaurants and clearing the places out. Of getting drunk, growing fatter, and pigging out at parties in high school.

“Admit it!” Steven shouted, which snapped David out of his trance. “Admit that you’re my fat pig!” Steven shouted again.

Moaning from all that was racing through his mind, David nearly fell into the pool of sweat beneath him.

“I’m…” David moaned out, trying to focus within all the pleasure, “I’m…a fat...piggy…” Letting out another, gargantuan moan, David came for the fifth time that day before collapsing on the bed. Steven got off the bed and went back out to the kitchen.

“I’m...yours...” David admitted before letting out a huge fart, then a belch. He was Steven’s fat piggy, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

But something still bothered him. Wasn’t he supposed to do something with Steven? Another belch removed that thought from his head, David passing out from exhaustion until his next meal.

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay weight gain #weight gain story

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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 7: The Library

A/n: so this chapter has been long-awaited by some and i hope you guys enjoy it! the series will really start moving after this so i would love to hear what you guys think of the chapter! Sorry about any typos- i didn't have time to edit this with all my schoolwork this week! Tag List is Open <3

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @hongjoong-a-holic

RBTL Tag List: @bluejayboys @wonderlandless @introverted-stay24 @sunfics @deputyjuyeon @studioreader

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.9k

Summary: True love has never come easy; life makes sure of that. From unrequited love to missed timing, does anyone have any hope at finding success- let alone pass History at the same time? All these questions leave young people wondering….will they still love me in the morning?

❖

Third POV

Y/n’s eyes grew tired as words about some minuscule event in history floated off the page of her textbook. She closed her eyes, stretching her neck-the bones cracking softly as her stiff neck rolled back. The odd silence drew her attention. Curious, she took the headphones from her ears and listened. All she could hear was the sound of raindrops falling against the large windows of the library.

It became quickly clear to the girl that she was alone and the only light in the room was coming from her little desk. “Hello?” She called out. Her voice echoed out from the second floor and filling the open building. When she heard no response, she shrugged and began pacing up her things to head home.

Though there was no response to the girl’s call there was in fact one lone soul left in the university’s library. One floor directly below Y/n sat a tall and slender boy, books piled high on his desk. Changmin twirled a pen between his fingers before checking his phone. His eyes widened seeing the time. Quickly he stuffed his journals into his bag, leaving his bag only half zipped. Red tuffs of fake hair stuck out as his doll was pushed towards the top of his bag.

The boy did a backtrack wondering if he should put his books away but decided against it knowing if he kept Chanhee and his friends waiting much longer then he might not live to see the midterm. Instead, he turned around and headed for the door- backpack on his shoulder and adjusting the glasses that were falling down his nose.

It seemed fate was entirely focused on these two tonight. Only the storm clouds had a view of the girl walking down the stairs just in time to meet the boy as he stepped onto the main floor. The two shared a brief look- shocked to see another person at this hour, but continued their way to the front doors wordlessly.

Just the sight of the girl had Changmin’s hands starting a nervous sweat. He tried to focus on anything but how pretty he thought she looked with the dim light from the streetlamps outside casting streams of light over her face. As the two students grew closer to the door the sound of the storm outside grew louder. It was also easier for them to see as they neared the larger windows.

Y/n reached out for the door. Surprisingly, she found resistance as she pushed. Again the girl tried, sending an awkward smile to the boy behind her. After pushing multiple times she gave up with a sigh. “I- uh....I think it’s locked.”

“Locked?”

Changmin stepped forward and tried his hand at the closed entranced. He pushed and pulled until retreating, brows furrowed. “What you didn’t believe me?” The girl asked with a breathy laugh. Changmin’s eyes widened as he turned to face her.

“What- no! No, not all! I- I- I just...”

“I was just joking, don’t worry.” A timid smile quirked up the corner of the boy's lips. He watched as she shed her bag- placing it against the nearest row of shelves. “Should we try together?” His head moved faster than his mind could process Y/n’s words. He shed his backpack next to hers and the two turned towards the sealed doors.

In his mind, he knew that even with both of their strengths pushing, the industrial locks on the university doors would not break. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” Instead of looking at the boy, she readied herself at the door, palms pressed against the metal bar.

“Oh- I’m..uh...C-Changmin...”

“Well C-Changmin, push on three?” He nodded, finding Y/n’s smile, though small, even more enchanting up close. “One, two, three!”

The two of them pushed with all their might but to no avail. Y/n looked defeated as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her delicate fingers pushed the button but the screen refused to light up.

Changmin had a similar idea. He reached for his own phone. Both of them smiled as it lit up showing the time and 11% battery left. The grin quickly fell as he realized there was absolutely no signal. Using his long limbs to his advantage he reached up searching one measly bar.

Y/n ran a hand through her hair. This was the absolute perfect way to end her already stressful and torturous day. She reached for the lamp on a nearby desk but a huge roll of thunder resonated through the building and it suddenly became even darker.

“Well, this is the beginning of a horror movie if I’ve seen one.” Changmin joked, kicking the door with a grin. His smile fell as he turned to see the fearful look on Y/n’s face.

“Dude- why the fuck would you say that!”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry!” He mentally hit himself over and over. Why did he say that? There was no need to break the silence. The silence was his safety net right now. If he was silent there was absolutely no way he could appear like some weird Freakazoid to her. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, casting brief glances over at the pretty girl he had liked for so long.

The two gradually gravitated towards each other. There was really nowhere else to go. Y/n enjoyed the sound of the storm outside, letting it calm her ever-growing nerves. Changmin resisted the urge to engage in embarrassing small talk.

A bright crash of lightning brightened up the room in sheets just as Y/n’s eye fell on the two backpacks several feet away. Her scream echoed off the ceiling as she caught a glimpse of the Chucky doll peeking its head out of the boy’s bag. Instinctively, she grabbed onto the closest thing- which happened to be Changmin’s hoodie.

Heat flooded every inch of his face and he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands so he settled for keeping them up in the air. Inside his heart was beating faster than he ever thought possible. It was like all of his senses were heightened the moment she touched him.

“What the hell is that?”

“Oh...umm...he’s my Chucky.”

“Your what?” She pulled away from him and Changmin instantly missed her touch. The girl all but laughed seeing the blush on his cheeks and his arms still raised in the air almost in surrender.

“My Chucky. You know- like from the movie...”

“Yes, I’ve seen the fucking movie!”

Nervously he adjusted his sweater before shuffling over and gently tucking his doll safely pack in his bag- out of sight from the still shaken girl. “Why are you carrying that around anyway?”

The scare had seemed to lessen the tension between both of them; though Changmin was still very aware of every word and action towards Y/n. “I was headed to a thriller marathon at my friend’s apartment after I finished some studying.” She nodded but in her mind, she wondered how if he had been studying for as long as she had, he did not have tears running down his face and a massive migraine. “I guess I just lost track of the time.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile a the boy’s lopsided grin. She found it endearing how one side was always high than the other. The more he smiled at her the more she wanted to take a picture of his little quirk.

Another weighted silence fell between them. Against his better judgment, Changmin began to speak. “I don’t mean to pry...but what were you doing here so late?” For a moment Y/n had forgotten all about her troubles that had been following her for the past month and a half. A visible heaviness pressed down her shoulders.

Her back pressed against the bookshelf and she let herself slide down to the floor. “I gave up on finding a tutor last week. I was hoping some miracle would happen if I read that stupid book long enough.”

At that moment she wasn’t just the girl he had been pining after since he was in braces. Changmin saw the exhaustion. He saw the complete lack of hope. He moved his backpack- which she had sat down next to and took its place.

“What book?” He didn’t need to ask but saved her the embarrassment of telling her that he had been in the room for her lecture with Professor Jeong. Wordlessly she pulled out a book, her hand dipping in the air from the significant weight. “Ah,”

“Good ‘ah’ or bad ‘ah’?”

“I’m not sure which the situation calls for?” He said pushing up his glasses with a little smile.

Changmin’s grin grew a little wider as he heard her laugh. Even sitting in the dark, her smile seemed to fill the room with a warm glow. “At this point, I think I’m just useless.” She pressed her forehead against the cool cover of the book.

She wondered why she found herself so comfortable with this stranger. It felt easier to talk with this boy she had known for twenty minutes than to talk with her closest friends- even her parents. A small shock of something she could only describe as electricity, raced up her arm as the boy’s hand brushed hers. He reached for the book, gently taking it from her hands and opening it to the tabbed page.

“You aren’t useless, Y/n,” His words gave her comfort, wrapping around her like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. Changmin chuckled, turning the page. “However, one might find it useful to highlight only the useful information and not the entire page.”

He found it cute looking down at Y/n’s textbook. Most of the passages were marked with yellow highlighter- easy to see even in the growing darkness. Some lines were underlined in red and there were circled statements with question marks all over the page. It was evident that she was in fact trying. Actually, her notes were in more detail than his.

“I just don't understand it.”

“What?”

“All of it.”

“All of history?”

“Sure- let’s go with that.” She shrugged leaning her head back on the bookshelf.

“I think history can be confusing sometimes too.” Changmin let her textbook rest on his lap. The two of them looked out the huge windows in front of them, watching the storm rage on outside. Occasionally, a flash of lightning would light up the library. “You know, I’m in Professor Jeong’s class too.”

“You are?”

Chanhee was right. She had no idea he existed until now and unless he played his cards right, she would forget about him the moment she left this building. “Yeah...I sit two rows behind you.” He watched her eyes widened a little as if she was trying to recall every face she had seen in that classroom. “Actually...to be fully honest...I knew who you were before tonight.”

Her brows furrowed, creating a small crease in the middle of her forehead. Everything about her fascinated Changmin, even down to her smallest expression. Getting a little nervous, he started rummaging through his backpack. As he chose his next words carefully in his mind, Changmin pulled out a half-full plastic water bottle and portable charger he forgot he carried.

Interested in the boy’s previous statement, Y/n watched him with intrigue. “I-uh....” His hands shakily turned on his phone’s flashlight after plugging his phone into the charger. “We went to the same high school. You and I have shared classes since grade nine.” Her jaw dropped a little at his words.

“I feel....like such a bitch.”

“Oh no-” He stuttered, trying to balance the water bottle over his flashlight- creating a makeshift lantern.

“Oh my god, I am the biggest asshole! I’ve never once noticed you in seven years? You must hate me!”

His heart warmed, seeing how bothered she was. He felt a little pride swell in his chest knowing that Sunwoo and Chanee were completely wrong about Y/n. “No, not at all! I just think we had different friend groups that’s all.”

Shrouded in the light from their little water lamp the two of them exchanged old high school gossip that Changmin never quite understood from the outside. “Wait so Miyoung stole Yeonu away from Hajoon?” Changmin covered his mouth in shock, his eyes widening in a cute way.

Y/n smiled and nodded, hand falling on his knee. “Yeah- I know right!”

“And Yeonu was the guy who-”

“Yeah who sold Class 4B the midterm answers!”

Changmin let loose a huge sigh. “Damn- I missed so much in high school by just studying and playing games.” This time a comfortable silence fell between the two students on the floor. By the way her eyes were drooping, Y/n assumed it was about three am.

“Nah you just missed....a whole lot of drama.” She yawned shaking her head to stay awake.

It was then that Changmin’s willpower gave in to the weariness of his body. His brain no longer had control of his mouth at that moment. “What if I tutored you?”

A sleepily smile slid onto Y/n’s face. She turned her head against the shelf to look up at the boy next to her. His hopes fell as she laughed a little. “I need more help than just History.”

“What else?”

“Math, Physics, Psych...”

“I can help you with all of that too!”

Changmin hated how eager he sounded. “What are you? Some kind of genius?” She smiled even though her back was getting sore and the sound of the rain was lulling her to sleep.

“No, just a mathematics major whose parents paid for top tutors until he was sixteen.”

The girl stared at him. Her expression was unclear. In her mind, she knew there had to be some catch. No way was this guy going to tutor her in all the subjects she needed for nothing. “What’s your rate, Genius?”

“Like money?

She nodded, turning to fully face the boy. Y/n waited for some terrible number that was hellbent on destroying her bank account. Changmin on the other hand was panicking trying to decipher what number was high enough to get her to say yes but not low enough to make her think that he wasn’t serious. “Um.....$8?”

“An hour? For four subjects?”

“Yes...”

“DEAL!”

Once again Changmin was frozen as Y/n threw her arms around him in a hug. His hands returned to their familiar place- up in the air, shaking, and far away from her.

The pair spent the next hours with textbooks sprawled around them. Changmin patiently assessed where Y/n was in each of her subjects, surprised how someone of her intelligence was struggling. He found that she was indeed very bright- but simply not understanding the information the way it was being given to her.

Neither of them noticed the rain stopping or even the sun rising with a pink and orange glow coming over the horizon, morning light sliding across the marbled floor. They didn’t even notice the sound of keys being turned in the front doors hours earlier they tried so hard to open.

“What are you kids doing here?” The two students looked up to see one of the librarians standing in the doorway, keys in hand.

They looked at each other before scrambling to grab their things and running out the doors. The warm, wet morning air greeted them as they stumbled outside. The sun was just peaking over the buildings and Y/n smiled at the dew clinging to the bright green blades of grass lining the sidewalks. It was a new day and a new hope filled her chest. “We’re finally out!” Changmin cheered, jumping up and down adorably.

Y/n found it precious that someone so tall and graceful looking could be so clumsy and cute. “Changmin, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t think anyone could have explained the Joseon Era principles better.”

“Oh- i-it was nothing.”

“Here,” Taking a pen from her pocket she reached for his right arm and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. He took the moment to once again appreciate her beauty up close while the girl wrote her number on his arm. When she was done she placed the pen in his large hand and looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to give me yours?”

Changmin vigorously nodded his head ‘yes’ and internally screamed at his brain to remember the numbers to his own phone number. With anything but steady hands, he wrote his number on her forearm and basked in the glow of the smile he received.

“So-uh..I’ll call you? You’ll call me? We can talk about times that work?”

“Yeah! Dates....and what not...Study-dates I mean! Tutoring! Yes.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you are saving my ass.” Y/n cheered as she started to back away towards her dorm.

“So you’ll call me?” He called after her. His feet were planted firmly where he stood for he feared if he moved an inch he might float away.

She laughed, her smile even brighter in the growing daylight. “Or something, yeah!”

“Okay!” He watched Y/n unit she rounded a corner before letting all the joy explode from his body in a fit of jumps, hollers, cheers, dance, and maybe what some might consider singing.

The sun basked in the boy’s glee as he danced and jumped his way down the sidewalk screaming “YES! SHE KNOWS WHO I AM!” His body was no longer sore and his mind was no longer tired. Instead, he ran all the way back to his apartment with a grin that the sun could not compete with.

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shepard-ram · 3 years ago

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Hello I'm light anon and i bring you the first chapter of an au i started awhile ago with the help of Ender anon (hi love you/p) , the supernatural au named Abnormalities and its very long

Abnormalities

Chapter One - Phasmophobia 2.5k words

:readmore:

“Prove it then.”

Of course, Sap and Dream’s arguments always lead to some sort of challenge. Ever since you met them in middle school, it’s been like that. Sap would say something, Dream would fire back because Sap was clearly wrong in his eyes, and it would spiral from there. Today’s topic of debate: The existence of the paranormal. Specifically, ghosts.

What sparked it? A cheesy horror film you picked out for the monthly movie night. Your stereotypical ghost film with lazy jump scares with bad effects and acting.you only bought it so you four could laugh at it. You Guys laud sprawled on the couch while Sap took up the floor. All was well, Until Sap proclaimed that real ghosts wouldn’t be that shitty. Dream, heavily disagreed that ghosts even existed. George didn’t take a side but you backed Sap up. The world is to weird not to have ghosts in it.

”Oh absolutely.” Sap nodded, agreeing with your assessment.

Dream rolled his eyes “Sure, sure, just how are you going to prove me wrong? There isn’t a ‘haunted building’ anywhere in town.”

At that moment George decided to speak up “What about the old willbeck farm?, the one a couple miles out of town. I always heard it was haunted by a kid or something.”

“That stupid place? Those were just stories are parents told us to keep us from trespassing.”

You shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Next thing you know, you and sap blew your paychecks on ghost hunting equipment. You ordered the basics, an EMF meter, a good camera, a thermometer, you even bought a ‘Spirit box’ and some smudge sticks, all too spite Dream who complained that you were being scammed.

You both ended up begging George to use his car to load up your equipment as he was the only one to have a large enough car for your equipment. He relented after a day of relentless begging.

The Willbeck farm was a 40 minute drive from your home, which left a lot of room for discussion.

“You three are idiots.”

You leaned forward to poke your head over the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You could have stayed back and do boring things like dressing up patches or something.”

He turned his head with narrowed eyes. “And make sure you guys didn’t fake your ‘proof?’ Not a chance.”

You laugh. “You’ll be the first one we feed to the ghosts.”

You bickered back and forth until George announced that they had finally made it. Not even seconds after he pulled into the clearing in front of the property, you and Sap practically kept out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get your gear. After distributing equipment amounts your group you took your first look at the house

The Farmhouse was much larger than you remembered reading about. It was a huge two story red building with a faded white trim. The word around it looked like it had been rotting for years and it definitely smelt like rot. AMany of the windows were broken in, and the glass was a gross brown color. The roof had some holes in it and the gutters had been ripped from the roof and laid scattered around the outside. A large barn was off to the side and had the same kind of wear to it. The entire property was surrounded by a torn up wire fencing, which had a lot of crows perched, eyeing you intensely. The Erie feeling the house gave off was intensified by the soft sound of the wind and the loud crow caws.

If houses had a criteria to be haunted, this one checked off all the boxes

Sap let out a low whistle before lightly nudging your arm “Dude, this place makes your home look tiny!”

You scoffed at that. Sure your rented home was small, but was cheap enough to pay for while you worked your way through community college. A one bedroom, one bath, a combined kitchen/living space, all on top of a double garage was all you needed.

It was a slow walk to the porch, all of you hesitant to actually set foot in the run down building. The steps creaked under you, and the wooden boards sunk slightly. You were at the head of the group, so you were the first one inside, taking a couple steps in the large foyer. It was full of outdated furniture, something you’d see out of the early 90’s. A large staircase sat to the left, hugging the wall as it pushed into the upstairs. There was a door to your right, leading into what you believe was the kitchen.

You held the camera up and you got a good shot of the room, if there were no ghosts you’d at least have some cool photos.

The four of you spread out into the room observing every corner of it. Sapnap was the one armed with the EMF reader. He waved the hand held device trying to get something, anything to read. He did manage to get one, honing onto a stuffed cow that was nestled into the couch.

It was dusty, like everything else in the room. Otherwise it was in semi good condition. It was... cute. Too cute to just be sitting in this old farmhouse for the rest of time. Dream had other opinions.

“That means nothing. It’s just a cow.”

To be fair, it was the first time either of you had used this kind of equipment. You decided to put it in your bag, hoping to study it later. It could be a fluke, but you guys couldn’t bow down now! The hunt has only just begun.

Every room on the first floor was subject to an EMF and Temperature checks. Dream and George fucked around while you and Sap scanned for anything that could be more than a fluke, the only thing that could be found was in the kitchen. A small carved statue of a crow.

It gave off the same readings as the cow plush, so perhaps it wasn’t a fluke. You found it sitting on the open windowsill, it was so life-like you almost mistake it for a living crow. Something was telling you that it was probably the oldest thing in the house. You gently placed it in your bag with the cow, another piece to your growing collection.

You took a moment to glance out the window. There were way too many crows sitting on the wire fence to be normal. It was the beginning of summer, so crows even migrate?

With the first floor cleared, you lead the charge upstairs. The floor boards only got louder with every step. You quietly asked whatever prime deity was watching that neither of your group would fall through the floor. The whole house felt unstable.

The top of the stairs lead you to a Hallway. It was small and only had two doors and at the end of it stood a large magnificent bookshelf.

You took the first door on the left accompanied by George while Sap and Dream opted to poke around in the hallway, formally splitting the group for the first time.

The room wasn’t very Large, nor could you tell what it was supposed to be used for as pretty much everything was covered with sheets of some kind. There were a couple of uncovered boxes laying on top of things, so it wasn’t completely boring. A couple of minutes of scavenging later, George called for your attention.

“Look at this” George presented you a beautiful lute from one of the few uncovered boxes. It was crafted out of a dark wood and had what you thought was engravings of fish along the sides. How old was this thing? Was it even usable?

“Let me see!” You asked, setting down the camera before making a grabby motion towards the lute, which was met with a questioning look from the Brit. “I want to see if it’s in tune.”

He decided that it was a good enough answer before handing over the old thing. You strummed the strings, and it sounded surprisingly good, despite the cloud of dust that came off it. You paused for a brief moment before playing a quick melody, just a song you played back in middle school for a recital. You hummed along until yelps from outside and many thumps.

You quickly set the Lute down and follow George out the door, fearing that something had gotten your two friends. However, instead of a gory mess, you saw Dream standing holding a book, while a whole pile of them at his feet, a few inches away from the bookshelf.

“The shelves just collapsed on themselves.” He quietly said. The look on his face was puzzled, like he was still trying to figure out what had happened.

“Or maybe,” Sap started. “The ghost doesn’t like you touching his stuff.”

“I’m keeping it then, the ghost doesn’t need it.”

“What’s the title of it?” You asked as you fake over to view the damage. Dream opened the book and flipped through it.

“It’s old, There isn’t a title nor is it in English, old English I think.”

What was such an old book doing in a relatively modern house? You shake the thought away and motioned for Dream to give it to you. “I’ll hold onto it, I want to see if I can get it translated.” Another treasure for your growing collection.

You turned back to check on George, he wasn’t next to you, instead he was messing with the final door, seeming to unjam the lock and push into the room. You decided to grab the lute and take it as a keepsake.

Picking it up again made your head feel... loud. You couldn’t tell which thoughts were yours and which were intruding. A pair of eyes were watching you somehow but the room was empty. Panic rose in your chest, your heart was beating so so loud. A cold hand touched your shoulders, yet you couldn’t tell if it meant you harm or not.

“Hey... are you okay?”

And it stopped. Everything was clear again. You turned your head to look back seeing Sap poke his head through the door. “You’ve been standing here for a while.”

You nod, “Yeah yeah... we should- we should stop splitting up.”

You’d only find out later that the Lute has the same effects that the other two objects did.

The house search was a bit of a bust. The only ‘Supernatural’ experience you had was the EMF meter going off and the strange experience with the lute which you opted not to tell your friends about, writing off as the Erie nature of the house getting to you.

Finding nothing else interesting, you took one last look at the entrance room before stepping out. You feel a weird sense of longing, something pulling at you not to go. You tried to shake off the feeling and you walked back to the car, just to put all your goodies away in the trunk.

All that was left on your to-do list was to check the outside area and the barn. Being the person that you are, you went straight to the barn. They boys could handle the rest of the property alone. alone The building had no doors you waltzed right though the entryway. Despite never actually being in a barn, it looked right to you.

It was devoid of any livestock, but there was Hay everywhere. Light shined through the holes in the ceiling, making the room clear enough. The soft blue liquid that was spread across the hay-

Wait. What?

Doing a second take revealed that the whole barn has some weird blue goo smeared everywhere. It looked too Fresh to be painted, it looked wet. There didn’t seem to be a set trail, just pools of it. You found most of it by a ladder that led up to a new section of the barn.

The blue substance was dripping from the loft of the barn.

It had to be.

And you were right! Sort of. Finally dragging yourself up the old latter not really minding the blue that now stained your clothes, you found the source.

He was standing- floating?- there, as if waiting for someone. The man was tall, taller than you or any of their friends, absolutely towering over you. His entire pallet was muted, his skin was fucking Grey. His attire was strange too. Something out of a renaissance fair. What was the strangest was that he was translucent and bleeding? Out of a cut on his chest. That blue substance oozing out of his stomach onto the floor boards.

He smiled.

“You found me, little songbird.”

The temperature drop had you shivering, but that also could have been from the absolute terror of seeing a real ghost.

That loud feeling returned in full force, directing your attention onto him.. You had to go. But it was like you were frozen place. He moved to cup your face, cooing as he looked you over.

“It’s not polite to touch things that aren’t yours, yet you handle them with so much care... I don’t mind.”

He wasn’t acting out of malice, thank prime, but It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He was too close.

“.... pretty songbird. My pretty songbird.”

A beat past before you could hear your friends calling for you. Your head cleared for a moment so you took it and ran. Practically flying down the ladder and hurting yourself in the fall. Ignoring the pain you booked it to the car right past Dream and Sap, who were standing by the entrance to the barn.

“We- We have to go. Now. Please we need to... to...” you couldn’t really tell what you were saying, everything was moving too fast. Great Prime, that was a real ghost. You- You were talking to a ghost. A Ghost called you a Song bird.

A Ghost.

That ended your hunt right there and then. You weren’t in a fit state to keep going. Especially not when you’re covered in... whatever this blue stuff is. You’d come to find later that you had a blue hand print on your face, right where the man had cradled your face.

You’re so out of it, you don’t realize when your friends are guiding you up the stairs to your home. One of them says something about leaving the loot in your garage, but you don’t really care. This is a future problem. You give a small thank you and a swift goodbye before passing out the second you feel your pillow under you.

So deep in sleep you don’t realize that your tiny home has a few new residents wandering about.

Or the fact that one of them watched over you as you slept

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I AM SIMPLY ASHAMED OF HOW LONG IVE BEEN PUTTING THIS OFF IT WAS A CRINE TO NOT LET Y'ALL SEE THIS EARLIER. LIGHT YOU'VE DONE A FANTASTIC JOB AAUAUGGG

#submission #tw. yandere #c: dream #c: george #c: sapnap #c: wilbur #💡 anon

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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i ♡ u (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader and Spencer are trapped in the office during a storm.

Category: Smut, Fluff Content Warning: cussing, unprotected sex/creampie, thunderstorm Word Count: 4.5k A/N: I don’t really like this imagine tbh so don’t be afraid to share your opinions

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“It was a dark and stormy night just like this one . . .” Reid said with a spooky voice. Thunder clapped in the distance and lightning flashed, adding to the mood of the room. Reid waited for your reaction, but you didn’t have it in you. You pressed your fingers to your temples, hoping that moving them in a circular motion would somehow stimulate your brain and magically generate logical thoughts that weren’t clouded by your weariness.

“Sorry, Reid. I’m listening. Keep going.” You didn’t want to discourage him with your fatigue. You were the only one who would consistently give Reid the time of day, and you never faltered in that. At times, you were the only one who’d let him finish speaking.

“You usually love my campfire scary stories,” You knew without even looking at him that Reid was pouting out of disappointment. “I really think you should go home. I’ll call you if I find something or if I need you.”

“No, no you shouldn’t be working on this alone. I’ll be fine.” You slapped your cheeks gently to wake yourself up and forced yourself to refocus on the case.

Hotch and JJ had to fulfill parenting duties, Prentiss was away doing a custodial interview for a couple days, Rossi and Morgan both went home a few hours ago because they could barely keep their eyes open, and Garcia was most likely knocked out in her bat cave. The team had been working on this case for 24+ hours straight and it was draining, but you weren’t about to leave Reid alone to work on it by himself. It wasn’t a contest or a way to prove that you were somehow a better agent if you stayed up working with him, but you genuinely didn’t feel right delegating all of the responsibility onto him. It happened too often where Reid’s good heart and great work ethic was taken advantage of.

“Have you narrowed down the comfort zone?” You sipped at your lukewarm coffee, wincing at the unpleasant taste but grateful for any burst of energy you could get.

Reid nodded, drawing a large red circle. He was in the middle of explaining when his words started sounding like complete nonsense. “Interstate 55 miles true North latitude triangulate.”

You almost thought you were hallucinating or something to that effect, but Reid saw the genuine fear in your eyes and quit his prank. “No, you’re fine! You’re fine! I was just saying random words to play with you. I thought it’d scare you enough to realize you need to get some sleep.”

“Reid!” You chucked a pen at him that he successfully dodged. This only made him laugh harder. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.” You told him.

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked seriously.

It was a huge red flag that it took you somewhere around a minute to come up with the answer since it had been so long that you couldn’t remember. You waved your hand in the air to rid him of his concerned expression. He had no reason to worry. “Really, I’ll be fine. It’s less dangerous to be running on less than 8 hours of sleep than it is to leave one person to solve an entire case by himself. I’m not going home, Reid. I’m here to stay.”

He noticed your stubbornness and thought of a new approach to neutralize the situation. “What if you and I both call it a night right now and then wake up in a few hours?”

Now, this sounded like a plan you could get behind. Without any resistance, you set an alarm for 5 a.m and flopped onto the couch just beside the round table. Reid joined you, slipping into his rightful spot behind you. You’d had plenty of platonic sleepovers that constituted sharing the same couch/bed with him, so this was nothing new. With your back barely touching Reid’s chest, you shut your eyes. It didn’t take more than ten minutes for both of you to drift off.

BEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEP!

A loud blaring noise filled the room. It made you and Spencer wake up at the same time.

“What is that?” His voice was all raspy from where he just woke up.

The sound was weirdly familiar, but you didn’t know where you recognized it from. That’s when you looked out the nearest window and saw that it was still dark outside.

“I don’t know, but it’s not our alarm.” You pointed out. That’s when Reid eyed the clock on the wall.

3 a.m.

You quickly felt around in the dark, reaching inside your purse for your phone. When you pulled it out, the ear-splitting noise got louder, making you realize it was your phone after all, but you were right. It wasn’t your alarm.

“It’s just a flash flood warning.” You relayed to Reid, squinting at the brightness of your phone. No wonder Reid didn’t know what the sound was - his ancient phone didn’t have the feature. You grumbled, falling back onto the couch.

“There’s no way I’m gonna fall back asleep after that.” He groaned.

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I’m wide awake now.” Stupid flash flood warning.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes while Reid stretched and got up from the couch. Checking the notifications he’d gotten on his phone, he said, “Garcia left while we were asleep.”

“And then there were two.”

Everyone was probably catching z’s while you two were catching the killer - or trying to at least.

So, if it was just going to be Reid’s brain and your brain functioning to work on the case, you needed some coffee.

“I’ll be back.” You walked down to the kitchen with your mug in hand and just as you were about to grab the coffee pot, a huge flash of lightning struck outside and suddenly the office went dark. The lights went out and the gentle hum of the generator shut off.

“Spencer!” You screamed out of fear. You heard the pitter-patter of his footsteps rushing to you. That’s when you saw Spencer using his archaic phone’s flashlight to find his way to you. He pulled you into a quick hug asking if you were okay, and you answered you were fine, just spooked. When you came down to pour coffee, you didn’t remember seeing anyone else, but now your stomach turned thinking about how someone might be in here with you - listening to you.

“Take out your gun,” He whispered. You did as he ordered you to, pulling your gun out of the holster. “Turn on the flashlight.” You clicked it on and handed it over to him, remembering that he didn’t have a flashlight on his gun because he had a revolver.

“Stay behind me.” He commanded. You moved back, basically hugging him from behind. You thought you were actually going to pass out from fear if you didn’t hold onto him for dear life. He did a quick pass with the flashlight, revealing no one else was in the bullpen unless they were hiding.

BANG! BANG!

You yelped in fear. “It’s just the thunder, Y/N,” He reasoned, reminding you of the ongoing storm. Oh right, there was a thunderstorm happening, too. Great. “Here take this and go back to the conference room.” He gave you his revolver and kept your gun, ushering you to walk back to the round table.

“What? Why? Where are you going?” Your small voice had never sounded so shaky.

“I’m gonna check the power box and see if I can fix it.”

Your first instinct was to shake your head disapprovingly, but then you remembered that he couldn’t see you in the dark. “No way! You’re not leaving me alone in a dark room. I’m coming with you.”

He didn’t argue against it probably because he was just as scared as you were. Reid did another quick survey of the room, using the beam of your flashlight to double check that there was no one else around.

As you clung to Reid, you made yourself sick just by thinking of all the horrifying possibilities that could happen. For all you knew, a whole group of unsubs was waiting for you at the power box, knowing you and Reid would check there as soon as the electricity went out. Would whatever happened to you two tonight become a campfire scary story that other FBI agents would talk about just like how you and Reid talk about them? The odds were not in your favor. No lights. Storm outside. 3 a.m. Just the two of you, and no offense to Reid, but if this were a horror movie, he was probably the last person you wanted to be with. Top of the list was easily Morgan, because at least if Morgan was scared shitless by the predicament, he wouldn’t show it.

While Reid led the two of you through the pitch black darkness, both of your hands were holding onto his upper arm. You’d taken cover behind him, poking your head past his shoulder just far enough to see what he was seeing but only so far that you could duck quickly if you needed to. Frankly, Spencer didn’t even seem to mind that you were clinging onto him for protection. It kind of made him feel good actually.

When you reached the power box, you released your grip on him, only realizing just how tight you’d been clutching him when you saw imprints left on his shirt from where you’d been holding on.

“Take this.” He handed you the flashlight while he used both of his hands to pry open the box.

You watched as his fingers grazed over the wires and fiddled with the buttons. Would it be weird to admit that his hands were kind of attractive? You’d never realized the largeness of them or how veiny they were, but there was something about them that made them so sexy to you.

He made a disapproving sound after further inspection.

“What’s wrong?” You weren’t actually wondering, but if you asked him, it would seem like you were actually paying attention to the situation at hand and not his hands.

“It looks like the power shut off from a larger source, meaning there could be a blackout citywide. That also means I can’t fix it.”

Hearing you’d be in the dark with no heat source was enough to snap you out of your trance.

“I have an idea.” You led Reid to Garcia’s bat cave, after a memory of Garcia showing you her collection of glow in the dark figurines replayed in your mind.

When you opened the cabinet, you smiled instantly at the sight of all the toys brightly lighting up the inside of the drawer. You knew that spending hours with Garcia listening about her toy collection would pay off eventually. Both of you carried all the toys you could and headed right back into the conference room. You placed them sporadically so that the entire room was dimly lit. Had these been candles instead of luminescent toys, it would’ve been ambient and romantic, but again - they weren’t candles.

Unintentionally, you shivered audibly when a loud wind crashed just outside. The generator went out along with the lights, so it was awfully cold in the room.

Reid was about to give you his sweater when you stopped him by walking right up to him and stealing his body heat in a hug. Rather than embracing him around his sweater, you snaked your arms under the cardigan to really feel his warmth. And as if Reid was trying to kill you with kindness, he pulled the sides of his sweater to stretch around your back and swaddled you into his sweater with him. You smiled against his chest. Not much could make this moment sweeter.

“Better now?” He asked, peering down at your face.

You silently nodded, closing your eyes as if removing your sense of sight would heighten your sense of touch. You wanted to feel his affection as deeply as you could.

“Tell me when you want me to let go.”

“Not yet.”

He laughed at your childish desire to be swaddled like this, but he was enjoying the warmth just as much as you were.

“We can’t do much work with the power out so let’s just try to get some more sleep.” He walked with you to the couch, keeping his promise of not letting go until you told him to.

With the storm outside and the flash flood warning, you two would just have to stay in the conference room until you had the all clear. You weren’t opposed to this entirely, though. There were much worse things you could do than listen to the rain in the arms of Spencer Reid.

“Okay, you can let go now but just for a second.” Your baby voice made him chuckle. He loved how you unabashed you were when asking for his attention. Reid laid down just as he did before, with his back on the backrest of the couch, and instead of having your back to him, you cuddled right up to him. While still wearing his sweater, he covered you in it again, drawing you even closer.

For some reason, even though you were beat and you knew you needed the sleep, you couldn’t seem to shut your mind off and rest. You were awake for what felt like hours. You would’ve tossed and turned all night, but instead, you kept very still so Reid wouldn’t wake up.

You’d be so focused on trying to fall asleep yourself that you didn’t even notice when Reid did. When you looked up, you saw his mouth was slightly agape, his eyes were shut and would occasionally flutter, and when you pressed your ear to his chest, he was breathing much slower than he was earlier.

“If you stay still for 15 minutes, you’ll fall asleep. Just lay in the same position and don’t move.” He mumbled. So he wasn’t asleep? And he knew you weren’t either?

“I have been staying still, but it’s not working.” You whined.

“Just try.” Reid murmured again.

You shut up and sighed, closing your eyes. This time, you made a conscious effort not to move a muscle. You even counted to 60 in your head 15 times, but after those 15 minutes, you were still awake. You weren’t even sure what was causing your insomnia. It was really peaceful to have the sound of the rain cascading down the window and the occasional boom of thunder outside. Being in Spencer’s arms was cozy, too, but there was still something keeping you up.

“Spencer? Are you awake?” You scooted up so you could see his face.

The only thing the moon was illuminating clearly was his lips. There was a distinct beam of silver light casting on his mouth, almost like it was lighting them up specifically. Like some sort of sign. A sudden urge possessed you, so without reason, you brought your hand up to his face and grazed your thumb over his bottom lip. Even with the gentle touch you were using, you were still able to feel how soft it was. You slowly dragged your thumb in a downwards motion, watching the elasticity of his lips cause it to bounce back up into its place. You nearly giggled at the sight. You moved your thumb to the corner of his mouth and followed it upwards to the natural curve of his upper lip. If you weren’t so observant before, you wouldn’t have noticed how Spencer very subtly parted his lips wider for you. Curiosity overcame you and you slowly inched closer to his mouth with your own.

“I think I want to kiss you . . . Can I kiss you?” You spoke in a soft voice, with each of your lips ghosting over his.

A moment of stillness. Maybe he was asleep. Then, a small, very small nod of Reid’s head. You smiled as he let you take control. With your hand already along his jaw, you lifted his face slightly so you could feel the full force of your kiss. You pulled him in closer to relish the soft feeling of his puckered lips. He released his grip on the sweater that was still swaddling you so he could press the small of your back, forcing your hips to drive into his. The need to be even closer was translating into the kiss. It grew hungrier - more passionate and needy. Spencer raised up from the couch, propping himself up on his forearm so he could hover over you. You followed his lead and shifted to be underneath him. With his body over you, he was able to push off his forearms and onto his hands. They were on either side of your head, forcing you to sit up with him so your lips wouldn’t leave his.

“Wait, wait,” He muttered, pulling away. You followed him with your mouth is desperation, until you couldn’t anymore, making you sit up entirely while Spencer backed away.

“What’s wrong?”

“If we don’t stop now, I don’t know if I can stop later . . . I won’t be able to control myself.”

It was in this moment you realize why you were often the only member on the team who’d actually listen to Reid. Nothing he could say would ever turn you off. Any word that escaped his lips was something you wanted to hear. His confession of being uncontrollable was no exception.

“Do you know what I want to do?” There was a newfound confidence in your tone that shocked the both of you.

“What do you want to do, Y/N?” Apparently, Spencer’s tone was just the opposite. He sounded like he was trembling with fear with anticipation.

“Guess.” You flirted.

Even in the dark, you could see Reid’s gears turning as he tried to find the right answer. He read your expression for a hint and made his guess by planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You’re cold.”

He quickly caught on. You were making a game out of this.

Hot and cold.

Reid made his next move with uncertainty. He slowly started moving forward to resume the position he had before he pulled away. As he came closer, you followed his lead and leisurely fell back. Every inch he would advance closer to you was an inch that you’d move back further until finally your back was pressed against the couch again and Spencer was hanging over you once more. With each of his hands beside your head, you smirked. “Getting warmer.”

This boosted his confidence. He was heading the right direction, and there was nothing Spencer loved more than to get things right.

The same moonlight that was streaming onto his lips earlier was dancing on his eyes. The hazel color glimmered in the silver light. You could see they were asking, ‘Can I?’ You answered his look with a silent nod.

Spencer reached behind him, following his hand with his eyes as he watched his fingers brush along your thigh. Looking back up at you for permission, which you granted, he peered back down, watching his fingers slip underneath the hem of your skirt. You lifted your hips up so he could raise the skirt all the way up. As if he was uncovering lost treasure, his eyes lit up when you were finally uncovered.

“Fuck me.” He cursed under his breath. This made you ooze with confidence.

You sat up to align your lips right beside his ear. With a breathy voice, you whispered,

“Hot.”

He’d finally figured out what you wanted.

The satisfaction he had in winning your little game gave him the confidence he needed to finally make a move.

Hurriedly, he dragged your panties off, leaving prominent scratches from his nails on your thighs. He threw them somewhere behind him, while you frantically unbuttoned his dress pants. You almost giggled with glee when you saw just how hard he was. You barely did anything to provoke him, but he clearly enjoyed what little you did do.

“I don’t have a -” You cut him off with a hasty kiss.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” You needn’t explain more. He got the message when you reached down and gave his shaft a few shallow strokes.

“Oh-” He was immediately caught off guard by your forwardness. “Wait, wait shouldn’t I . . . um, help you first-”

You smiled at his stutter. “Spencer, please. I need you now.”

There was that unabashed ask for Spencer’s attention that he loved so much. He made small movements until he was properly aligned with your entrance.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” He breathlessly uttered, while gradually pushing in.

You thought you would’ve regretted not letting him finger you before in preparation but the bliss was far greater for some reason.

The sensation was definitely new to Spencer when his eyes widened. “Oh fuck. You’re so tight.”

Meanwhile, your face contorted at the feeling of him stretching you out. It was actually more painful than pleasurable.

“Wait, Spencer - I need to change positions.” You panted.

He instantly retracted, looking incredibly sorry. “Here,” He helped you up to your feet while taking a seat on the couch. You didn’t need an IQ of 187 to figure out how to position yourself, so you straddled Spencer, hovering over his erection. Taking charge now that you knew you’d feel more comfortable like this, you reached below you to align his length. Instantly, euphoria washed over you when you lowered yourself all the way until you were practically sitting on his lap. Spencer let out a heavy exhale now that you were able to take all of him in this new position. You moved your hands out from under you and put them on Spencer’s shoulders as a way to stabilize you each time you’d come up. After a few cursory movements, you found a comfortable pace. Spencer couldn’t contain himself, he had to grab your hips in his hands and buck up before, his pelvis meeting your ass before you could even fully lower yourself again. With the tempo of motion increasing drastically because of Spencer’s participation, you couldn’t even adjust to his length anymore. Every time he’d pull out was temporary relief for the ever-growing knot forming in your stomach. You bit back a moan when Spencer curled his hips to thrust into you at a different angle. This stroke mercilessly hit that knot in your stomach, forcing a strangled noise out.

“Don’t stop, Spencer!” You were surprised at how you were even able to put together a cohesive sentence since your brain felt like it was short circuiting.

With Spencer’s curved thrusts, the knot in your stomach grew bigger and bigger. You even felt yourself clench around Spencer. He felt it, too and his head instantly lolled back in pleasure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head with him. Your skin felt prickly as sweat started dripping from your forehead. If you didn’t know any better, the generator was working again because the heat in the room was thick. Spencer’s strokes were growing slower in anticipation. You picked up the pace for him and made a conscious clench around him to help him reach his peak.

“I can’t control myself, Y/N. I need to pull out now.” He sputtered.

You made an indistinct noise that communicated your disapproval. It was the only thing Spencer needed to hear to know that it was okay if he came.

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned, knowing you were going to follow close behind.

He dug his nails into your hips, bringing you back to reality as if it was his way of pinching you to tell you it was real. From the pain of his hands clawing into you, you almost couldn’t feel him coming, until you felt it dribble down your inner thigh. Suddenly, it felt like his warm essence made electricity surge through your body and course through your veins. With a speed faster than light itself, the knot in your stomach released. You cried out as his seed mixed with your own and cascaded down like the relentless rain outside cascaded down the window. The euphoria of your orgasm brought you to a complete stop.

“Holy fuck.” You swallowed hard. The inside of your mouth was dry from where it hung open for so long.

Spencer was at a loss for words. His silence was so unfamiliar you had to giggle.

“You okay?” You lifted yourself off of his lap to gain some clarity. He gulped hard.

“Am I dreaming?” He sounded genuinely dazed and confused, it was adorable.

Garcia’s glow in the dark toys helped you to find a box of tissues. You took one from the box and wiped yourself before pulling your skirt back down. Meanwhile, Spencer zipped up his pants and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Spencer,” You laughed a little. “You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

He hadn’t changed his spot on the couch so you straddled his lap again, this time with more pure intentions.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck, while his hands rested on your hips again and his lips were pressing on your shoulder, leaving quick pecks.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He confessed against your skin. You leaned back so you could see his face and kept your hands behind his head to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. Enjoying your soothing touch, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to lay against your wrist. He was so precious like this. With Spencer’s head cocked to the side, a distinct beam of light was revealed. This time it was shining onto your face, almost like what it feels like when you accidentally walk past a projector screen and look at the projector light. In this instance though, the light wasn’t nearly as blinding. It was soft and ethereal. It lit up the rain falling on the other side of the window. It even displayed signs of steam coming from the inside. You could see condensation running down the pane. It had gotten so hot in here because of you two that steam was produced. That felt like some sort of accomplishment. You mirthlessly chuckled and leaned forward. With this sudden movement, your chest was pressing against Spencer’s. He was forced to lift his head back up from your wrist when he wanted to examine what you were doing. You leaned past the backrest of the couch and exhaled a hot breath onto the window to make it fog up. Spencer watched you do this over his shoulder, trying to figure out what you were doing. With the glass fogged up, you started drawing a heart with your index finger. You lazily shaded in the heart and looked back at Spencer to show off your creation. It wasn’t pretty by any means, but it meant something.

Spencer pulled a hand away from your hip to use his fingers to add to the drawing. To the left of the heart, Spencer drew a vertical line with a dot above it, and then to the right of it he drew a small horseshoe shape. You pouted your lips when you finally got the message.

i ♡ u

You looked at him before blowing another hot breath onto the already existing fog to extend it. You drew a number right beside it.

i ♡ u 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#smut #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut

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zaffrenotes · 3 years ago

Text

[TRR: WD106] Avoiding A Blunder

Summary: Prince Liam has to fill in for Crown Prince Leo, and Murphy’s Law is put into motion at the end of his trip. Chaos ensues, condensed Wacky Drabble style. Fic Rating/Warning: M; alcohol consumption, minor health/medical emergency, anxiety/angst Author’s Note: All main characters belong to Pixelberry/The Royal Romance, I’m just borrowing them * Fictional versions of IRL individuals are included with affection; any other characters mentioned in this piece are my creation * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 106: You’re gonna get us busted! * You have @the-soot-sprite and @ao719 to thank for this ridiculousness, lol - Soot reblogged a photo, Betsy sent me this request

and...this is what my brain came up with (PS - thank you both for the movie discussion) * For the purposes of this story, Triydalia is a fictional country that shares a border with Thailand * Word Count: 1999 😅 (7 minutes reading time)

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I'll tag you in the comments): @/ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @/the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @dcbbw @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @ladyangel70 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @yourmajesty09

Liam was used to filling in for Leo at a moment’s notice; participating in conference calls with ambassadors for early morning updates when Leo overslept, and attending meetings with ministers when Leo went AWOL. He’d grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but he wondered how Bastien managed to keep his position, when he’d lost track of Leo’s whereabouts countless times.

While Leo spent more time avoiding his duties as Crown Prince of Cordonia, Liam dutifully took on the extra responsibilities in stride. It often meant partitioning his already packed schedule to sit in on vital cabinet meetings or dining with visiting dignitaries, but sometimes Leo’s vanishing acts gave Liam the opportunity to travel.

Though their ambassadors handled the majority of day-to-day relations with other countries for trade, Constantine preferred to meet face-to-face when he could. One such time, a lingering cough turned to walking pneumonia, restricting Constantine to as much bed rest as possible. It also meant sending Leo to Japan for a meeting with the Prime Minister in his stead.

It would have been fine, if Leo hadn’t pulled another one of his disappearing acts.

A week later, Liam was seated on the royal jet on his way back from Tokyo, navy attache with espresso brown leather trim in the chair next to him. Across from him, Maxwell chatted with Anya over various Thai dishes. On the other side of the plane, Drake was in a heated discussion with leggy blonde Anitah while the ladies’ petite friend Donna observed in silence, fighting back a grin. “You’re an imbecile if that’s your opinion,” Anitah declared, raising her hands up in the air. “Are you sure that’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Drake smugly sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Liam asked, relieved to think about anything other than what was in the bag and why it was so important he hand deliver it to his father.

“Fight Club being a better cinematic masterpiece than The Princess Bride,” Drake replied. “You guys agree, right? If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, you’d want to watch Tyler Durden fight the system instead of some…” he paused to sneer at Anitah, who crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, “...story about a swashbuckler rescuing a princess? She’s not even a real princess!”

“Fight Club is such a guy movie though,” Anya argued, turning in her seat to face Drake. “Princess Bride appeals to men and women, with a much larger audience.”

“Okay, that’s two for Buttercup,” Drake sighed. “Maxwell? Li?” He looked at his friends expectantly.

“Fight Club, definitely,” Maxwell said, nodding his head. He’d spent the better part of the trip doing everything to get into Drake’s good graces after the octopus incident on the first night in Tokyo.

Before Liam could respond, a commotion from the front of the plane made everyone’s heads turn, where a pair of Kings Guards and two flight attendants were seated near the galley. One of the guards slipped into the cockpit, rushing out a moment later in Liam’s direction, as the jet slowly tilted to the right. “Apologies, Your Highness. Do you or any of your guests happen to speak Triydalian?”

Anya slowly raised her hand. “I knew a bit when I was a kid, but I haven’t used it in years.”

The guard motioned for her to join him. “Please come with us, miss. The pilots need a translator.”

“Is everything alright, Remy?” Liam peered past the guard, eyes widening at the sight of the other guard and one attendant hovering in front of the other attendant in a chair.

“We need to land the plane, Sir,” Remy answered, ushering Anya up from her seat. “Ramona passed out. She’s breathing but unresponsive.”

Twenty minutes later and after a jarring landing, they’d arrived at a small airport in the Republic of Triydalia, at the edge of one of the country’s many jungle forests. Calling it an airport was generous - it was more of a cleared dirt path in the middle of the jungle with a shack for an airport tower, and a man that looked like more of a hunter than an air traffic controller. After a choppy conversation that required pantomiming and hand signals, Anya left with Remy and the man from the tower to fetch a tribal doctor, while Anitah and Donna assisted the other member of the cabin crew to look after Ramona. They were warned to remain as quiet as possible and to stay inside the jet.

Minutes passed by in tense observation; Anitah and Drake continued their debate in low whispers, growing louder as they defended their choices. Liam could see the pilots discussing something pointedly as they checked readings on the instrument panel and worked on calculations. One of them stepped out, claiming that he needed to stretch his legs, and walked cautiously down the runway. When he returned, the other pilot joined him outside, despite the original warning to stay inside. Liam peered out the windows and checked his watch, worrying about Anya and Remy, along with his father’s instructions to avoid delaying their return.

While the remaining guard headed towards the back of the plane to pace back and forth for the eighth time, Liam took it upon himself to speak with the pilots. The air was thick and stifling the moment he stepped outside. Around them, there was nothing but green, green, and more green from the wilderness that surrounded them, abuzz with tropical birds and insects. At his side he carried the blue attache, remembering the promise to his father that the bag wouldn’t leave his sight. He spoke in a hushed tone when he approached the pilots. “You’re doing more than just stretching your legs, aren’t you, Captain?”

Both men grimaced slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Even if we pulled back to one end of the runway, we’re still at least five hundred feet short of clearing takeoff.”

“What if we worked to try and clear the brush on either end?” Liam offered, looking off into the distance.

“There’s no way to clear out the trees, even the young ones,” the co-captain answered. “We might be able to take off if we could drop some weight, but the larger concern is the longer we wait, we increase the risk of encountering someone who doesn’t want us here.”

Liam nodded gravely; months of civil unrest in Triydalia meant rebel groups assembled faster than the government could contain them. There was no guarantee of anyone’s safety, stranded on a remote runway. There was no telling what was wrong with Ramona while she was unconscious, and therefore no way to treat her without the aid of a doctor. Ensuring the safety of the crew and his friends could have been avoided altogether if Leo didn’t constantly opt out of handling the duties of his station. In that moment, Liam abhorred the never-ending list of responsibilities thrust at him as a result of having to pick up the slack for his brother, knowing if their roles were reversed, Leo would manage to find a way to leave Liam to solve problems on his own.

“Could you excuse me for a moment?”

He’d barely finished asking the question before walking into the tall grass by the edge of the runway. Ignoring the pilots’ calls to return, Liam sprinted into the dense greenery, dodging between vines and scanning the ground for tripwires until he could no longer see the plane over his shoulder. When he finally stopped running, he bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air. Liam looked down at the blue bag in his hand, wondering what on earth was so precious to reduce him to a courier.

Shaking the bag did nothing; it felt practically empty, though he could tell something was inside. He couldn’t open the bag to check, since Prime Minister Abe and his father were the only ones with keys, and PM Abe handed him the sealed bag when they parted ways. Liam wanted to throw the infernal “murse” the ladies had good-naturedly teased him for into the bushes. Perspiration dotted his hairline, and he let out a primal scream, before taking slow, deep breaths to quiet the worrisome thoughts racing in his head and bring his heartbeat down to normal.

Cursed courier bag in his right hand, Liam braced his arm against his torso, pinning it in place with his elbow when he bent his other arm up towards his face. Curling his fingers into a relaxed fist, he pressed his lips against his thumb, thick brows furrowing in thought. All around him, wild birds called to one another amidst the chittering clamor of insects hidden in the foliage. He was so busy running through scenarios in his head that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a camera, turning to look up only when he heard a branch snap in the distance.

“Watch it! You’re gonna get us busted!” Donna hissed to Drake. She pocketed her phone, elbowing Drake in the ribs as they crouched behind large leaves. She ticked her head in Liam’s direction. “Go get your boy, none of us are safe out here.”

After some coaxing, Liam headed back to the plane with Donna and Drake, walking briskly through the jungle, eyes trained to look for anything out of the ordinary. Liam was alarmed when he heard and then saw the engines running, until Drake explained the pilots were burning off fuel to lighten the plane. They’d begun to walk up the steps, when Maxwell popped out above them. “Whoo!” Maxwell exclaimed, digging for another snack from the container he cradled in his arm. “Feels like a sauna out here!”

“Lower your voice, Maxwell! Please!” Liam seethed. His features pinched together in disbelief. “Are you...eating? Now?”

“You know I stress snack,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. He shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Liam’s eyes lit up and he took the stairs two by two, knocking on the cockpit door before swinging it open. “What if we unloaded whatever’s not bolted down? The decor, dinnerware, the food and drink?”

“That...would certainly help,” the captain replied, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to his co-pilot. “It could be enough to get in the air after burning off the excess fuel.”

“You heard the man, Maxwell,” Liam said, offering his friend a nervous grin. “Get Drake to help you start unloading the plane. Has Ramona’s status changed?”

“Donna found the first aid kit just before she took off with Drake to go after you. Anitah found some smelling salts that gave her a rude wakeup call. Turns out her insulin pump shorted and she just needed some juice.”

Several more minutes passed as the group removed whatever they could from the plane, leaving piles of cookware, food, throw pillows, and even seat cushions to lighten the load. Drake whined when they gathered up the liquor, but he stuffed a bottle of whiskey in a cabinet by his seat. They’d nearly finished when Anya and Remy returned, running on foot. “That thing better be ready to take off!” Anya hollered, motioning for everyone to board. “Rebels on our tail! Time to go!”

Everyone scrambled back onto the plane; Liam relayed the urgency to depart to the pilots, who rapidly went through their flight checklist. Remy pulled Anya up onto the steps and they all clamored to buckle into their seats, the sound of gunfire in the air as the jet rolled forward and lurched up into the air, barely clearing the canopy.

Adrenaline pumping and breaths shallow, Liam looked around at his friends and the crew, thankful they were safely in the air again.

Liam thought he was having a stroke at twenty-four when he saw the contents of the bag. Constantine smiled with glee at the small gold cat, one paw raised.

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100hearteyes · 4 years ago

Note

any more thoughts on 'clarke and lexa make a porno'?

🤔😏

Part 1 Part 2

“Last but not least, worry no more, citizens of Capitola: after a grueling week of searching, our very own superhero Jasper Jordan has finally found his cape. He was wearing it all along.”

“It’s so good to know that he will be able to go on keeping Capitola safe.”

“Yes, what would we do without Jasper Jordan here to protect us? And from now on, you’ll be in Lexa Woods’s hands. Also, such good hands those are. She’s got very long fingers.”

“Oh. Well, I never actually noticed, but I guess they are. Thanks, Clarke. And now, perk your ears for the new hit single from our very own global country star, Harper McIntyre. It’s called Call Me Harp-by. She’s a creative genius!”

Lexa’s first instinct when she hears the studio door open is to hide. She checks her options: Monty is holed up under his desk playing on his GameBoy Color, Octavia has barricaded herself in a corner with actual hand-carved sticks and is roaring at Bellamy in a strange language, and Murphy is probably peeing into a bin behind the pillar on the far side of the room.

She’s too slow to think of a solution in the end and she can’t do anything but flush when Clarke strolls in and heads over to her, smirk plastered on her face. Lexa only has time to save her miniature Baby Yoda from Clarke’s weapon of ass destruction before her coworker sits on the edge of her desk.

“Hey, Lexa.”

Lexa forces a polite smile, trying to focus on her outline for the day rather than the butt cheeks planted on her desk, the body attached to them, or the face looking down at her with a sly grin. “Hello, Clarke.”

“What do you think of Harper McIntyre’s new song?”

The topic confuses her, but she trudges on with a brave face. After all, she’s got opinions on Capitola’s Taylor Swift rip-off and if Anya is going to make it a point of leaving the room every time Lexa so much as mentions them, then she’s going to take this opportunity with both hands and pull out all the receipts. “Uninspired. Derivative. Oddly reminiscent of Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.”

“Yeah...” Clarke nods pensively, letting the subsequent silence drag on for a few more seconds. “I like your fingers.”

Lexa starts at the sudden topic change and struggles to keep her blush under control under the brazen intensity of Clarke’s stare. “Yes, I- I noticed. You mentioned. On the radio, for all of Capitola to hear. Thank you, I guess?”

Clarke hums, before clicking her tongue and hopping off of Lexa’s desk. She roundabouts it until she’s right next to Lexa, thigh brushing Lexa’s arm.

Lexa tries and fails to swallow down the knot in her throat as Clarke sits on her desk again, this time on her side, crossing her legs so her feet touch Lexa’s leg.

“So a little bird told me we’re starring in a porno together.”

Lexa almost yelps, scrambling out of her chair to fasten both hands over Clarke’s mouth. “The whole world doesn’t need to know, Clarke!”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but Lexa can feel her smile under her hands. Their eyes lock, a tacit understanding passing between them. Clarke's eyes are a vivid blue, like a cloudless sky or the color of Lexa's highlighters before Anya dunked them all in a bag of manure, and it's hard not to drown in the depths of them.

"Glad to see you two getting intimate already."

They spring apart as though they were burned. Lexa sits back down on her chair, while Clarke takes a seat at her desk, which to Lexa's chagrin is right next to her own. Anya chuckles as she sinks into her own chair, propping her feet on Lexa's desk, crossed at the ankles.

"Anyway," she slams a hand over a stack of papers, making Clarke and Lexa jump in their seats, "can you guess what this is?"

Clarke and Lexa look at each other with raised eyebrows, then at Anya. Lexa shrugs.

"This is your fucking Bible," Anya says, not waiting for them to guess. "Your Dianetics.Your Loose Canon. Your gospel." At her companions' still expectant stares, Anya heaves a dramatic sigh, throwing her arms up. "It's the goddamn screenplay."

Oh.

It's like the snap of an elastic band. Lexa and Clarke shoot out of their chairs to snatch the script from Anya's desk. Lexa gets there first (going to the gym does pay off after all), dribbling around Clarke, and lets out a triumphant cry before sinking back into her chair, thumbing through the pages of the heavy tome.

She stops on a random page and feels Clarke press closer to read over her shoulder.

INT. BLONDIE'S KITCHEN - TWILIGHT

Enter Lulu. Plumber by day, detective by night. She stops by the island and twirls a lead pipe in her right hand before sheathing it like a cowboy's pistol.

LULU

It seems it's time to read your...

Lulu puts on her shades. ZOOM IN.

LULU (CONT'D)

...Anya rights.

Lexa balks, peeling her eyes from the page to gape at Anya.

"Anya rights? Anya rights? You can't just... Arbitrarily rename the Miranda rights. They have that name for a reason."

Anya rolls her eyes like Lexa just said something obnoxiously stupid. "I didn't just rename them, you dumbass. I fucking changed them. If you'd read the whole thing, you would know that the suspect has the obligation to remain silent. No more fucking cry babies in cuffs."

"This is..." Lexa opens and closes her mouth like a fish, trying to find a thread of logic in the midst of... Whatever fever dream she's living in right now. "I thought we were filming a porno, not a sexy cop movie. Plumber by day, detective by night? That's- it's not even remotely realistic."

"Lexa... Suspend your disbelief."

"I think it's really good stuff," Clarke chimes in, her breasts still firmly pressed to Lexa's shoulder blade.

"Thank you, Clarke!" Anya exclaims, throwing her hands up and letting them fall on her legs with a loud clap. "At least someone appreciates my genius."

Lexa rolls her eyes, but fine. Fine. She will read more; she will give Anya a chance. She opens the book on a new page, several scenes ahead.

INT. BLONDIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Blondie rubs her lover's love button like she's scratching at a turn-table, making Lulu scream louder than Saoirse Ronan in Ammonite when Kate Winslet was eating her out with her neck.

LULU

Oh, fuck! You're so good at this! Almost as good as my awesome best friend and mentor Anya, even though I've never had sex with her because that would be totally gross.

Blondie stops her ministrations to look up at Lulu and smirks.

BLONDIE

I know. After all, they don't call me DJ Diddles for nothin'.

Lexa stares incredulously from the two hundred-odd pages to Anya, wondering how grave a sin she must have committed in a past life to deserve this.

"What are you, a sex-deprived straight guy?"

Anya scoffs, yanking the script from Lexa's hands before she can do anything to stop it. "I can assure you there is no deprivation in that department."

"After reading that I am seriously starting to doubt that you've ever even seen a vagina."

"I thought it was good," Clarke pipes in once again. This time, Lexa turns to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Is she paying you to say that?"

Clarke tsks with a smirk. "I'm just smart enough to know better than to get on the lead producer's bad side."

Anya snaps her fingers and points at Clarke approvingly, and Lexa has never regretted a decision so deeply in her life.

"Anyway," Clarke resumes, standing up and grabbing her bag. "This has been fun, but I need to get going. Anya, stay classy. We'll work out the schedule this week. Lexa," she adds, her voice dropping a tone to turn into a seductive purr. She leans down, and it's all Lexa can do not to focus on how her breasts squish together and seem to become fuller and more inviting. She loses the plot when a pair of lips presses to her cheek in a kiss that is chaste, yet way too slow for propriety. "See you tomorrow."

Lexa's throat is dry as a desert as she watches Clarke leave, her hips swaying more than usual. She jumps in place when Anya clears her throat next to her. This time, she can't avoid her friend's shit-eating grin.

"No chemistry, you say?"

"Shut up, Anya," she grumbles, focusing back on her work. She has a full, five-minute newscast to prepare, she can't dawdle and joke around gossiping like some people. But then a thought pops up in her head and she turns to Anya, eyes narrowed. "Is this some elaborate plan to get us together? I refuse to be your little Love, Actually experiment."

Anya's stare is fifty shades of unimpressed. "Lexa. Don't take yourself so seriously. It's a bad look on you."

Lexa buries her face in her hands with a long-suffering sigh. Why is this her life? Why is this her best friend? Why is she hopelessly attracted to the worst, most unprofessional coworker on the planet?

"Why couldn't you find a normal hobby? Something that doesn't include me? Like baking. Baking would have been so much better."

"You know," Anya drawls almost nostalgically, "I actually considered that, but the criminally inclined baker niche was already taken up by Martha Stewart."

"She is surprisingly niche," Lexa says, intrigued.

"Indeed."

"But she's also able to appeal to a larger audience."

"Uh-huh."

"Fascinating."

"I know. It's like Punkya. You'd think a lesbian erotica magazine would only appeal to queer women and depraved straight men, but it's been selling surprisingly well amongst the straight female demographic."

Hm. Are all women secretly queer?

"Interesting," Lexa concedes, before veering the topic back to Anya's passion (and Lexa's torture) project. "So when does principal photography start?"

And there it is again, that nefarious gleam in Anya's eyes. It grows along with her Cheshire cat grin, curling and curling until it's pure, unbridled evil.

"Next week."

#calmap #clarke and lexa make a porno #my fics #clexa #clexa fic #clexa fanfic #clexa fanfiction #mine #ask #anon

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

Text

Until Yesterday

➜ Words: 10.4k

➜ Genres: 75% Fluff, 22% Angst, 3% Smut

➜ Summary: You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie The Vow (2012) and a bit of The Notebook (2004). This is purely an indulgent fic for all my hopeless romantics out there, so it’s a bit different from my usual!

cr.

Marriage was nothing like they told you. It’s true that not much has changed from when you were dating or engaged, that merely the title of your relationship has slightly altered, but you have no regrets doing it at all. They always told you to wait until the honeymoon phase was over — that you'll find yourself tired and driven crazy by him. They told you to wait a few years down the line when you’re not having sex anymore and you’ll be so sick of each other, it’ll be like living with an awful roommate-child than being a couple in love. You’ll be bored when something becomes a normal routine, they said. But it isn’t like that at all. If anything, you’re more in love with Taehyung than ever. “We should put the couch right here.” “Well, we need to buy a couch first, Tae.” “Didn’t you like the leather one we saw today?” “I mean...I didn’t love it and it’s a bit pricey, don’t you think?” “It’s fine. Leave it to me and the bank account!” The blonde grins and pats his own chest and it only garners your scoff. “I’ll take care of you. It’s the least I can do.” “I make the same as you, idiot.” It took years of hard work and dedication for the two of you to get to where you are, to have landed your dream jobs and built your dream house together. But of all the sweat and tears, you wouldn’t trade the outcome for anything else. The house was newly built in a developing neighbourhood, the scent of cut wood and paint still lingering in each room. The white picket fence surrounds the seashell home with the dark brown roof, glass windows large and bringing light into the open concept structure along with the skylights. It has the cherry wood door reminiscent to that of your old dollhouse and a swing out back tied to the tree that Taehyung wanted. It was all the two of you could’ve ever dreamed of and you’re eager to move in, to bring in your furniture and allow this home to grow with you. “Why is the master bedroom larger than I remembered?” Taehyung’s laugh echoes down the hall and you hear footsteps becoming louder against the wooden floorboards. “Maybe the construction team came in during the middle of the night and expanded the room for us for free.” “Yeah maybe,” you playfully quip back at him. “Maybe they’ll consider expanding our backyard too, so we can put that marble fountain in. It might cost more than this house, but you said I could trust in you and the bank account, right?” Taehyung peels you off of him when you glue yourself to his side and giggle. Batting your lashes at him has little effect. “Fountain is still a no-go, sweetheart.” You grin at him and waltz to the adjacent room, peeking your head into the modest space. “We still need to decide what to do with this spare room, Taehyung. If we want to turn it into another bedroom for when your mom visits or maybe an office.” Suddenly, arms wrap around your waist and you ease as your husband props his chin on your shoulder. It’s one of his many habits of his that you love. “How about we save it for a nursery?” The corner of your mouth quirks and you turn your head. “Are you sure?” “As sure if you are.” You spin around in his arms to plant a kiss against his mouth — one where Taehyung steals the opportunity and deepens it, catching you off guard. He pulls you in by your waist when you threaten to pull apart and he smiles at the whimper that comes out of you. When the pair of you finally part, you’re unable to resist the smile that spreads into your cheeks and your arms loop around his neck. “Kim Taehyung, aren’t you blessed? There’s no one I’d rather have a baby with than you.” His mouth forms into a rectangular grin. “You shouldn’t tempt me when we’re going to be late for our reservations already.” “Late?” Your lips fall and you check your watch before your eyes grow wide. Taehyung laughs and strolls behind you as you rush out, grabbing your coat and screaming at him to get the car started. It’s another one of those date nights. One where intimate conversations are shared over a candlelight dinner. Until Taehyung accidentally catches the tablecloth on fire and the candlelight is removed by an exasperated waiter and the intimacy in your discussion ends up with him doing something dumb and water nearly spewing out of your nose from laughing, and the other patrons are glaring at the ruined atmosphere. Still, with a generous tip paid, you leave full and happy. “Anything you want to watch tonight?” you ask as he’s driving. It’s peaceful with the roads emptier at this time of night and the radio playing some generic pop song in the back. You count the lamp posts that pass by. “Hmm...how about we do something else tonight.” Your head turns. “Like what?” Taehyung steals a glance at you and smirks. “I was thinking that we would drive back to the new house and break in that mattress we just got. Maybe get that kid you were talking about.” You scoff, looking straight out the windshield as you feel your face heat. Even after so many years with him, he still knew what to say to affect you. “It’s not that easy, you know, and that mattress is still wrapped in the living room.” “It’s fine. Better start now than later. And it’s our house, we can taint it however we want to.” It doesn’t take much for you to agree — and you do so in the midst of laughter. You shamelessly stare at Taehyung’s profile, the strands of his blonde hair that desperately needs a trim, his long lashes that you’ve always been envious of, the slope of his nose and his thin lips that always knows how to kiss you right. Taehyung’s thick brow cocks when he notices your blatant staring, but you don’t care. You’re just filled with joy and at a loss for words at how he’s with you. He’s yours. The two of you are too wrapped up in one another to pay mind to the car behind you. To the piercing beam lights. The wheels that screech against the asphalt. The sheer speed of the vehicle and recklessness of the intoxicated driver. So when the rear of the car is slammed into and you both lurch forward into the intersection of the road, it’s a shock. // The white fluorescent burns your eyes. It’s hard to see and you can’t feel your body. Not even your fingers that begin to twitch. You’re disoriented and delirious, not sure what day it is, how long you’ve been out, where exactly you are. It’s all muddled in your mind. All you can discern is a constant rhythm of beeping beside you and the odour of disinfect filling your senses. You’re scared — but you’re overwhelmed with the thought of Taehyung. Taehyung. You jolt in your spot and the rhythm of the machine quickens until it’s like an alarm, sounding aloud and making you panic even more. But then there’s a rush of people entering the room, white coats and scrubs checking the machines and lines hooked up from you. “Ms. Y/N, I am doctor Jeon.” There’s a man looking down at you and you blink blearily at him. “You’ve been in a coma for three days now. Is there anyone we can call for you?” “M-My husband,” you cry out with a parched throat. The doctor looks to the nurse but she frowns and shakes her head. “The patient doesn’t have a husband.” You don’t have a husband? At once, sobs wrack through your entire body and you thrash despite the aches in your bones and your ankle wrapped in bandages. The doctor and nurse are alarmed and you choke out the words— “I-Is he okay? Is he dead?” “Ma’am,” the doctor calmly says, “you were the only one injured on the scene.” Before you can utter a word, a man comes from the doorway. His hair is dark, matching the hue lined underneath his exhausted eyes. His features are soft and evidently tired like he hasn’t slept in the past few days. You don’t know who he is but he stares right at you — and then a relieved smile draws upon his features, one that is too comfortable and familiar. “Y/N?” His voice is deeper than expected and he closes the distance. The nurse is visibly confused, but he quickly introduces, “I’m her partner, Min Yoongi.” You recoil back before he can touch you, even when the hurt comes across his expression. “I-I’m sorry.” You don’t know who he is. “I think you have the wrong person.”

It’s hard to cope — your entire universe has been flipped upside down and you don’t know what to think. Suddenly by opening your eyes, your entire life has been swept from underneath your feet. Everything that you loved and cared about is gone. And you’re left alone to deal with it. “I-I remember being with my husband. We were driving back from dinner and planning to take a detour to the new house, but then a car rear-ended us and we were brought out into the intersection,” you recall. But the doctor’s brows furrow. “I see. Well, I can tell you that you weren’t in a car accident, Ms. Y/N. You were injured after falling down the flight of stairs at the subway station. You’ve been in a coma for three days.” It doesn’t make any sense and you squeeze your temples. But it hurts. Everything feels like a dream, like you’re floating and not truly grounded in reality. Your surroundings are hazy and you wonder if this is just a hallucination — a very frightening one, a world where Taehyung doesn’t exist. “What year was the car accident?” the doctor asks suddenly and you exhale, trying to remember the date. “It was late January of 2016.” “Ms. Y/N, it’s 2020 right now.” It’s a shock through your system. At first, you sputter, choking on your own spit. The doctor is kind enough to give you a moment but when you press your hand to your chest, you wince at the bruises around your wrist. Then you open your mouth and close it, finding yourself rendered absolutely speechless. Your brain is melting into itself and you have an urge to get up and scream. “What?” “It looks like you have a four year memory gap,” Doctor Jeon says as if he’s prescribing you with cold medication and if you weren’t bedridden, you might just throttle him to the floor. “It’s okay, these things happen with your sort of injury. It should be fine and only temporary. You can get your memory jogging again after looking at mementos, pictures, or talking to the right people.” “Anyways, we’ll keep you here for a few more days just to monitor that head injury, but it looks like your ankle is healing nicely. There’s no cause for concern, really.” The doctor ends up leaving and you repress the urge to cry again. You don’t know where Taehyung is and you miss him. // Your so-called partner appears days later to help with your hospital discharge and pack up your belongings. You learn his name is Min Yoongi and that he’s two years older than you are. He works as a car mechanic in a shop and you’ve apparently been with him for a whole year. Yet, you can’t help but stay guarded, watching him from the corner with your arms crossed while you try to decipher his impassive expression. The man is quiet, but not in an angry or frightening way. He never asks you questions, makes demands out of you or once appears exasperated with your distant behaviour. He seems gentle somehow. You wonder what your relationship with him was like. “T-Thank you,” you murmur as he packs the slippers he had brought for you into the duffle bag. Min Yoongi turns his head and the corner of his mouth pulls into an oddly warm smile. His voice is husky when he says, “You don’t need to thank me. I’m just happy to see you walking around again.” You’re taken aback. You aren’t used to receiving this kind of love and affection from someone other than Taehyung and from a stranger no less. It makes you unsettled. Conflicted. The car ride is smooth. Yoongi helps you into your seat and buckles you in without making you speak much of a word. You’re not sure where you’re going, but you spend your time looking out at the window and taking in what you’ve missed for four years, or rather what your mind no longer recalls. Luckily, it seems like the world hasn’t changed too much. The streets are familiar, lined with lamp posts and bike racks. There are different billboards and some buildings you don’t recognize, but it looks like many things have stayed the same. The street names, avenues and boulevards, the people jogging and walking their dogs — it hasn’t changed. “Hey, Tae—” Except for the person driving beside you. You turn your head and blood drained from your face, realizing that it’s not your husband you’re sitting beside. “N-Never mind.” There’s a moment of quiet. Then Yoongi’s lips part. “It’s okay.” He glances at you and your eyes meet. “It’s okay,” he repeats with a small smile that makes you even more burdened. The apartment is modest yet cozy. A living room with cushions out of place and souvenirs on the shelves next to the television. The kitchen is to the left, cups in the sink and refrigerator haphazardly filled with take out boxes. It’s lived in, full of memories that you don’t have. But above all, you notice there’s only one bedroom and there are male belongings assorted with yours. Shaving cream. Gel. Cologne. “You live here?” you ask Yoongi, coming to the living room where he was giving you a chance to look around for yourself, perhaps hoping that you would remember something. “We live together,” he corrects with a tiny smile. “But it’s okay. I’m planning on staying at a friend’s place, so you don’t have to worry about me being here if that makes you uncomfortable.” “You…” Your mouth opens before closing, startled at how considerate he is. “You don’t have to. I mean, this place is yours too. It seems unfair if I kick you out. You should...stay.” Yoongi smiles and you shy away from his attention. “I...might not be comfortable sharing a bed with you though…” “Okay.” He nods. “I can take the couch.” That night, you lay awake in the foreign bed, unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling. It feels like you’ve been asleep for four years anyways, although it’s technically only been three days. Your brain is swimming in confusion. You’re not sure what to think. One moment you were with Taehyung and the next, you don’t have him beside you anymore and you’re with someone else. Taehyung…. You reach over to the nightstand and switch on the lamp. A dim yellow light softly fills the room and you begin to truly investigate your surroundings. On a pinboard near the door are pictures of you and Yoongi, selfies taken where you’re both smiling with one another, one of you at a carnival and another at an aquarium. The vanity drawer holds jewelry that you don’t recognize, perhaps ones that Yoongi had bought for you. Your phone contains grocery lists and miscellaneous notes that make no sense. There’s nothing on your social media, no connection, nothing once you search his name up. All you discover is work-related things in your calendar, more pictures of you and Yoongi and affectionate texts between the two of you. There’s no trace of Taehyung whatsoever. But when you dig into the closet and find a box at the top shelf hidden away, your answer is found. It’s inside a box of paperwork — school awards, certificates of achievements, evidence of your first paycheck, your birth certificate, social security papers, and divorce papers. You and Taehyung got divorced in April 2018. Two years and eight months after getting married. And it’s been a year and ten months since. The paper crumples underneath your hands and you gather your knees together on the floor as quiet sobs break through you once again. You don’t know what happened. Where it all went wrong. // When morning comes, you hope the swelling and redness of your eyes from crying so much isn’t noticeable. If it is, Yoongi doesn’t say anything and only regards you with a gentle smile. “I was going to stay home today, but I thought it might be overwhelming for you,” he says before you can protest otherwise, “so I’ll be at work. Take it easy, okay? You can call me anytime you want for anything. My number is in your phone.” You nod. “Thank you, Yoongi.” His smile is sweet. “I already told you, it’s not a problem.” But half an hour after Yoongi leaves, you prepare for your own departure. Hobbling with your weight on one foot and off the one with your injured ankle, you grab a coat and the car keys laying on the counter. It takes a moment to figure out which one is your vehicle in the lot but you find it after pressing the panic button. It looks brand new — apparently recently repaired and the reason why you had to take the subway and how you got your head injury in the first place. It might be wrong to leave without giving a warning to Yoongi, especially when he’s so worried about you, but you can’t stay idle at the apartment. You can’t sit still. You need answers. You drive to the house — turning down the familiar streets and roads before coming into the neighbourhood that feels like you had been in just a week ago when it’s probably been years. But you don’t recognize it anymore. It's more developed than you last remembered. What once were empty lots have other homes built. All the sidewalks are paved, there’s an elementary school down the avenue, a new playground that shines, neighbours that have moved in. What hasn’t changed is the house itself. There’s still the white picket fence that surrounds the seashell white home, a shade you had personally picked yourself when building it. The roof is a dark brown and the front door cherry wood. The glass windows are large with baby blue curtains and you wonder if there’s still the swing in the backyard…. You get out of the car, feeling your emotions swell up to your throat and your eyes becoming watery as you gave upon the house. This was the place you had built with Taehyung. The place you both had planned to live in for years. The place you wanted to raise your kids, grow old and retire in. It was perfect. The combination of your dreams. Where did it all go wrong? You close the distance, limping up the path to the door and knocking on it. After a moment, you ring the doorbell properly. But even then, there are no answers and you notice that the Kim nameplate under the mailbox is gone. Of course. It’s been over four years after all. You cross the street back to your car again, but not before catching sight of a woman bringing groceries up her driveway and towards her own house. “Um, excuse me.” She turns at your voice, brows lifted. “Do you happen to know who lives there?” You point to what was once your home. But unfortunately, she shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t. I know that house has been sold a few times and the owners have recently changed again.” “Oh. Thank you.” It’s hard to leave the house behind you, but you keep your foot on the gas pedal and drive, never glancing out the rear-view mirror in fear of bursting into tears again. You still have more questions than answers, so your next destination becomes downtown where Taehyung’s engineering firm is. The two of you had met in school, back when you were awkward and chasing after your ambitions of being a chemical engineer like your aunt while for him, he wanted to take his childhood lego dreams to the max and become a civil engineer. Your neck hurts to look at the top of the skyscraper, the many windows reflecting the bright sunlight into your eyes and blinding your vision. If there was any place where you could find Taehyung, it would be here. It’s his dream job. What he had wanted for so long and legitimately cried when he found out he got a position at. You remember that day, how proud you felt of him for achieving such a goal. But when you approach the receptionist at the lobby’s desk, her response only fires the confusion further. “Sorry. We don’t have a Kim Taehyung working here. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” You miss him. And you wonder at what point, he wasn’t a part of your life anymore. // In an attempt to find Taehyung, you contact your friends and work your way down your list of contacts on your phone. They’re happy to hear from you, some even knowing about your accident and asking if you’re alright. But when you ask about Taehyung, they tell you that they haven’t spoken to him since the divorce. That they’ve lost contact. That the months leading up to it, the two of you were distant from them and they’re unsure of the reasons for what had happened. It was frankly unexpected. “You always told me it wasn’t any of my business, dear,” your mother says over the phone. “You actually got quite upset when I asked, so after a while I didn’t anymore. Do you want to talk to your dad? He’s watching the news right now.” “No.” You press your temples, holding in your sigh. “It’s fine.” Frustration overwhelms you. No matter where you turn, you can’t seem to get the reasons for yourself. You can’t find him. “Is the take out okay?” At once, you’re snapped out of your thoughts and you lift your head to meet kind, cat-like eyes staring at you. “It’s good,” you try to smile and nod. He seems to sense how disconnected you are. “I’ll learn how to cook. I know you like carbonara, so maybe I can find a recipe this weekend and try to make it, so we don’t have to eat out all the time.” You stare at the man across from you. How tired he seems, his dark hair shagging in front of his forehead, his downcast head facing his food as his fork scrapes against the bottom container, never quite taking a full bite. Yet whenever your eyes meet, his plump lips always tugs into a small smile and his eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s brows lift at the sudden apology. “What for?” “For not remembering you.” Even if Min Yoongi is a stranger, you can feel how intimate the pair of you used to be by the photographs you’ve seen, by the way he still regards you. You feel guilty for not being able to return his affections. “It’s fine. It’ll come back with time, right? Don’t stress out about it too much. It won’t do you any good.” “Yoongi.” You have his attention by the way you say his name like he hasn’t heard it uttered from your lips in quite a while. “I went searching for my...ex-husband today.” It’s foreign to call Taehyung that. It’s unsettling and makes you uncomfortable. But your eyes never divert from Yoongi’s. “I need answers.” “I know,” he murmurs in a low voice, still playing with his food. As intimidating as he might appear on the surface, you’re quickly learning how considerate and soft-spoken he really is. “And I want you too. I don’t want you to have any regrets. I want you to know you’ve made the right choice by being with me.” Your heart squeezes at his thoughtful nature and you sigh lightly before stuffing your mouth with some of the noodles, trying to alleviate the tension. “You’re a good man, Yoongi.” He chuckles, gummy smile emerging for the first time that you can recall. “Maybe that’s why you chose me in the first place.” // The avenue is nostalgic, a street that you and Taehyung spent many dates at with its cheap street food and cute stores. And when you were both working, it was the halfway point between your workplaces and where you’d meet to have lunch on those special occasions. A few things have altered from when you remembered them, the stationery shop closed and that ice-cream parlor changed into a pancake café instead. But for the most part, it remains the same. You aren’t sure what you’re doing here. Of all your ways and methods in searching for Taehyung, even you know that it’s unlikely you’ll find him on a Tuesday morning at such an obscure location. But it’s where you’re drawn too, where your body told you to go and your mind followed. Otherwise, you’re not sure what to do anymore or how you should contact him. You wonder if it’s too drastic to drive hours away to visit his mom on the off chance that she’s still living in the same place after four years. If she moved, the journey would be for nothing. But even then, if you somehow found him and reached out, would he even be willing to talk to you? A sigh escapes your parted lips. You tilt your head up to the sky, wondering where on earth he is. And in your reverie, you fail to notice the strapping brunette humming to the music he’s listening to. Not until your shoulder collides with his as he’s walking the opposite way. But instead of an apology spilling from your mouth, you’re interrupted by a call of your name— “Y/N?” It's shock that has taken hold of his expression. His hand rips out his earphones and the loud music becomes silenced from his world. With the way he looks at you, it would be like he’s seen a ghost. A stranger from his past. In your mind, it’s only been a week since you’ve seen him. And you’ve been missing him so much. On sheer instinct, you wrap your hand around his wrist, afraid to let go. “Taehyung.” // It’s awkward, the stiff air almost suffocating your lungs. You’re sure that the first date wasn’t even as bad as this. But you don’t mind whatsoever, even if he’s shifting uncomfortably at the intent way you stare and how it makes him break out into a sweat. Even if Taehyung hates you now, as long as you can see him like this, it’s enough to bear. Taehyung clears his throat, diverting his vision elsewhere. “So….you look like you’ve been well.” “Not really,” you murmur. Taehyung is still a man of intense habit. His drink order hasn’t changed, a cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings. At the same exact coffee shop since you were dating. And he’s taken the same table in the corner of the shop too, the spot of your many study dates. It’s these habits that have led you back to him. “I heard you weren’t working at the engineering firm anymore,” you say after another tense pause. Taehyung’s brows curiously raise. “I haven’t been working there in years. You knew about it.” “Did I?” He’s wary that you can’t recall. “Yeah….” “What are you doing now?” “I’m in animation.” Your eyes widen, surprised. “I never knew you could animate— well, I knew you could draw, but you never even watched much animation.” Taehyung shrugs. “It’s a good fit. I didn’t know I’d like it either until I tried.” Your expression softens, a tender smile pulling into your cheeks. Taehyung’s gotten older but in a refined way. His hair is back to its natural colour, a few wrinkles set into his skin but his features are sharper and less rounded and boyish. He seems less mischievous and irresponsible too, a little more mature and quiet. Or maybe he’s reserved because you’re his ex-wife. The thought makes you nauseous. He sips his drink. “So...what have you been doing?” “Not great. I recently got into an accident, Taehyung.” That seems to grab his attention and his eyes become rounded while you brace yourself. “Apparently I fell down a flight of stairs at the subway station and I was in a coma for three days.” “Oh shit. That...must’ve sucked. I...I’m sorry to hear that.” “I’m fine now.” You pause, clear your throat. “But the last thing I remember is us, Taehyung. We were planning to spend the night at the new house and we got hit by that car…” “I remember.” He nods slowly and murmurs, “But the accident wasn’t that bad, Y/N. We were only bumped.” “I don’t remember that,” you tell, earnest eyes connected with his that makes him believe you. Even after all this time apart, Taehyung can still tell when you’re lying and telling the truth. Your voice raises in pitch, in frustration and exasperation. “And...and I’m trying to understand how this happened. I’m trying to understand how we…..how we ended up divorced.” Taehyung’s brows furrow and he fiddles with the paper cup. “What’s there to tell? We fell out of love.” “That doesn’t make any sense!” Your shrill voice garners the attention of other patrons, but you don’t pay mind to them. “We got married and were planning to have kids and we just built a house in a new neighbourhood—” “We lost that house.” Taehyung doesn’t look at you. His downcast head allows his eyes to stay on the floor. He looks small — shoulders slugging and frame slumped. “I lost my job and then we lost the house. It went downhill from there and one day, you couldn’t do it anymore and packed your bags. You were the one who divorced me, Y/N.” You’re stunned, unable to get a single word out at the revelation he’s given you. An answer to your questions that you had never expected. That you didn’t want to hear. Taehyung’s eyes are saddened and he never once meets your gaze. “You’ll remember sooner or later. I’m sorry this happened to you, Y/N. I really am. But it was still nice to see you.” He gets up before you can protest, leaving as fast as he came into your life again. // Yoongi arrives home visibly tired, his hair in a disarray and his navy workwear stained with oil and grease. Still, he greets you with a warm, sleepy smile that you still aren’t used to. “I saw my ex today,” you tell him during dinner, breaking the silence by deciding to be open and honest. It at least alleviates some of the guilt weighing on your chest. “I found him coincidentally.” Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, peeking at you. “How did it go?” “It didn’t help. I’m still confused.” You can’t understand why you would ever leave him, even if you lost the house and he lost his job. It didn’t make any sense. “Do you know anything about the divorce, Yoongi? Did I….ever tell you anything?” “You told me that he was pathetic,” he informs but without any malice like he’s simply stating facts. “He was unemployed for two years and didn’t get off his ass to find a job. Hey, your words, not mine.” The corner of your mouth curls even when you’re still stupefied. “Are you alright, Y/N?” An exhale leaves your lips. “I’m not sure.” That night, you find another box in the closet while alone in the bedroom. There are pictures of you and Taehyung from when you were younger and just friends, small mementos like movie tickets and keychains won at arcades while you were dating, and photographs of the wedding day, the two of you with enormous smiles and swollen cheeks. But they’re buried underneath your belongings with Yoongi. // His expression is one of repulsion, like he bit into a lemon or something bitter. But you don’t pay any attention to it. “What are you doing here?” Taehyung is incredulous to see you in the morning, standing in the same café as if you own the place. “I’ve been waiting since eight,” you complain and he repeats his question with increasing skepticism. You suppose it’s not everyday your ex-wife is waiting to run into you, so you don’t blame him for his apprehension. “I’m trying to understand how the two of us got divorced. I know this is probably really weird since for you, I’ve shown out of nowhere after two years.” “You think?” You ignore his playful quip. “But for me, my last memory is still going on that date night and getting into that car accident.” Before Taehyung can utter a word, the barista is calling him as the next person in line. “Can I get—” A cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings. “A cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings,” he says without missing a beat and your mouth tugs into a smile. Lots of things may have changed in the time that you no longer remember, but the fact of how constant he is comforts you greatly. You wait with Taehyung at the counter, feeling his eyes glancing at you every so often. When your eyes meet, he realizes he’s been caught staring. “Once I remember again and make sense of the situation, I’ll leave you alone,” you say even if it hurts, but the last thing you want is to be burdensome to Taehyung. “I just want to understand and get over it and move on like you have.” Taehyung sighs, never saying a word. He picks up his drink and you follow along with him, quietly as to not disrupt the comfortable silence between the both of you. He walks down the street and enters the modest grocery store, beelining to the deli to pick up a ham sub. But he notices your quirked brow. “What?” “No.” You shake your head. “Just reminds me of uni. You used to eat those too. Same brand and everything.” The man scoffs lightly, but he knows. You’ve pointed it out to him many times in the past that he has a tendency to stick to specific habits — the odd quirks that you once said you loved about him. “Like what?” he had once asked when you mentioned it. “Like you always put your beverages on your left side and you chug half a glass of water before going to bed and you always close the entire toilet when you’re done going to the bathroom and you have the same brand of cereal every morning and after you sneeze, you always scratch your nose every time,” you had said in the midst of giggles and then lifted yourself up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. They’re cute and it’s part of why I love you.” The two of you walk together down the street. The early morning air is crisp and chilly, slightly nipping at his nose. He grips his drink still steaming to warm his hand and Taehyung can’t help stealing a glance at you, wondering if you’re cold too. “How’d you get started into animation?” “Huh? Oh. Well, if you really want to know then after you packed your bags and dumped me, it was a pretty good wake up call.” Taehyung laughs as if he’s recalling a funny memory, but then his expression softens, touched with sorrow. “I decided to get myself picked back up and get a job. They liked my personality enough at the interview to give me a chance. At first I didn’t know what I was doing, but I learned and I like it a lot.” He turns his head when your silence is prolonged. But his eyes widen when he finds your tender smile. “I’m happy for you, Taehyung.” And you really are — even in spite of him not technically being a part of your life anymore. // The next day, Taehyung is not any more impressed to see you there at the café. You enthusiastically smile and wave at him. And when the barista calls the two of you in the line, you have no hesitation. “Can I get a cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings? And just an iced americano for me.” Taehyung eyes you when you pay and stroll to the other counter to wait. “Don’t you have a job to go to?” “I’m still technically in recovery and it’s not like I can work if my head’s a mess.” Taehyung scoffs lightly. “What do you want to know this time?” He can tell by the look in your eye that there are questions on the tip of your tongue. And when you take out a whole laundry list like it’s things you need to buy at a grocery store, a rectangular grin plasters on his face. Taehyung wouldn’t expect any less of you. “Hey, I was thinking about it all night, alright? I was afraid I was going to forget so I wrote it down.” He leans over to look at the list but you move away. “Don’t peek.” “Okay, okay.” He laughs and gestures for you to start. “First question. What did I say before I left?” You look at him, eyes meeting his. “What were my exact reasons for the divorce?” He hums a low note, staring off into the distance. “I don’t remember well. You called me a motherfucker though,” Taehyung chuckles and becomes solemn. “Probably something along the lines that I’ve stopped trying and that you were leaving. There was a lot of crying and screaming. I…..don’t really like to think about it.” There’s a pause and you clear your throat, paper in your hand crinkling and forgotten. “Why didn’t you ever do anything to stop it?” A sigh leaves his lips and he runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m an idiot. But it’s not like I could’ve forced you to stay with me.” “I’m sure if you had said something, I would’ve stayed.” Taehyung’s smile is meek and sad, not at all like how it usually is. You wonder just how much you hurt him, how much you hurt each other. “A lot can happen in two years, Y/N.” A lot can happen in the two years they were apart too. “Have you been seeing anyone?” “No. I haven’t,” he says. It’s a question that tumbled out of you, one not on the list. // The evening comes and you hear the front door open and shut. Immediately, you call out from the kitchen, “Hey!” Yoongi emerges from the hall with another tired smile. “Hey.” “I got takeout for us,” you say while heating said food up. “How was work? Busy again?” “A little.” The man comes closer to see what you’ve bought but before he’s able to assess, he mindlessly leans in and plants a soft kiss against your cheek. You instantaneously freeze, the muscles in your body becoming rigid and tense, and Yoongi realizes. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit.” He pulls away, disheartened and guilt wells up in your throat. “It’s okay.” Yoongi nods and he shrugs off his coat, walking back towards the hall to hang it up, but you stop him before your conscience can berate you, before you hurt him further— “I saw him again. This morning.” He halts. He stands still as you watch his backside. The both of you know who you’re referring to. “How was it?” Yoongi inquires hesitantly as if he’s not sure if he even should. “It was good,” you murmur. “I got a few more answers.” His head turns, the black strands of his hair sweeping against his forehead. Yoongi’s gentle eyes are glossed over, his tone low and husky as he quietly asks, “Can’t you get answers without seeing him?” “I…..I’m sorry, Yoongi.” You divert your vision, but from the corner, you can see the way his mouth curls gingerly. “It’s okay.” But you know that it isn’t. It’s unfair to him to wait for your memories to return, for you to continuously see someone of your past as he waits for you to come to love him as you once did. The man retreats into the darkness and you feel guilt overwhelm you. // When Taehyung wakes up, does his daily routine and heads to the café, he opens the door and expects to see you. Standing there, waiting for him as if you were the owner or a barista working full time. “Are you sure you’re not healthy enough to go back to work?” He grins, brows lifted and almost impressed at how adamant you are. “No.” You loll your head to the side. “I’m still feeling tired.” Taehyung scoffs lightly, noting that you always show up earlier than he does. “Tired, huh?” “You must be tired too. Your shirt is inside out.” “What?” His line of sight follows to where you’re pointing and Taehyung looks down to see that his shirt is indeed inside out. He groans in embarrassment as you laugh. “Did you not notice?” He doesn’t answer, grabbing his drink from the counter once the barista calls his name and he books it out of the shop. But not without you following behind him and still giggling. “Are you sulking?” You quickly catch up to him and quirk your head almost to his shoulder. “I’m just teasing, Tae. It’s not that noticeable.” “You noticed it.” “Well I’ve always noticed everything about you.” He clicks his tongue in feigned annoyance and stops, making you halt on your heels. “Don’t flirt with me, woman. Didn’t you say you were seeing someone?” You scoff, continuing to walk and this time, he’s the one who follows after you. “Who says I’m flirting with you? I think you’re terribly mistaken and quite frankly, full of yourself.” Taehyung grins. “It’s not my fault I was born this handsome and have so many people regularly flirting with me.” “Uh-huh. You’re beginning to sound like Seokjin.” “He’s not half as handsome as I am.” You burst out laughing, knowing that your old friend would probably throw a fit if Taehyung openly fought him for the position of most handsome in your group of friends. “I beg to differ.” “Then why didn’t you marry him back then?” “Should’ve,” you sing-song much to Taehyung’s chagrin. The pair of you stop in front of his building, the destination of every morning journey. You know this is where you’ll have to leave him off and see him again tomorrow, wait for just these ten minutes of conversations and banter. But unusually, Taehyung doesn’t bid you farewell right away. He doesn’t run away with his tail in between his legs, shooting you a playful glare over his shoulder. Instead, he stops with you and smiles. Taehyung lingers on the sidewalk with you. “Y/N…” He gazes at you. Your eyes connect with his warm irises and something lodges in your throat, an emotion that only seems to come with him. “Hmm?” There’s held silence— “There’s a bug in your hair.” “What?!” His palm slaps your forehead before you can flail, not enough for it to hurt, but enough that you’re stunned. You lift your hand to rub the spot and at the same time, a rectangular grin spreads into his face. Taehyung laughs childishly. “Kidding.” “Are you five years old?!” you shout but it only eggs him on more. “Sorry, sorry.” He bats your hand away and his fingers come to rub the spot for you instead. “I’m pretty sure it was your face cream and not a bug.” The proximity is closed. You can feel his breath against your face, count his thick lashes, draw constellations through the tiny freckles around his nose. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks and Taehyung catches it. For a moment, his eyes linger against your lips and yours follows down to the dip of his cupid’s bow to the corner of his mouth. There’s a thick tension between the two of you, a kind of intimacy not found between a pair of old friends on a normal morning. It’s a kind of longing that you recognize in Taehyung’s gaze as it’s similar to your own… You lean in to close the distance completely. But then Taehyung abruptly pulls away. His vision is diverted to the ground. All traces of mischief are gone. His mouth has fallen into a straight line, brows knitted together as if he’s in physical pain. “What are we doing, Y/N?” He doesn’t wait for a response. Taehyung turns and walks away while the knots in your chest constrict you. But you run after him. You take three strides before he can vanish from your life — like what you found when you woke up in that hospital bed. The thought of that returning is terrifying. “Taehyung!” “No!” He turns around to face you, shutting you down before the way you call his name can affect him. You’re taken aback by the hurt etched on his expression. “It took me two years to get over you and even now I’m still not over you,” he declares angrily and your eyes widen. “And then you come out of nowhere to make a mess out of my head, playing these games.” Your brows furrow, upset at his accusations and you shout back at him, “What games?!” “I know that the moment you remember again, the moment you get over your stupid fucking amnesia, you’re going to dump me!” Taehyung swallows hard. “You’re going to make me go through all of that again. It’s downright cruel, you dense woman!” “Don’t call me dense!” Without conscious decision, tears begin to shed down your face and you shake your head. “You know that that isn’t my intention.” “I know.” Taehyung sighs. “But it’s going to happen anyway.” The pair of you look at one another and then the doors to the building open. A tall man with dimples comes out and is absolutely bewildered at the ruckus. He’s seemingly familiar with Taehyung, perhaps a colleague of his. “Is something wrong, dude?” “It’s fine.” “Who’s this?” the stranger asks curiously, smiling at you. “She’s my ex-wife.” The man is caught off guard, eyes becoming rounded. “I didn’t know you were married.” “Yeah, well, I used to be.” Taehyung peeks at you in a silent farewell and you watch his backside leave.

When Taehyung wakes up, does his daily routine and heads to the café, he opens the door and then his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t know why disappointment seems to overwhelm him when you’re not there and he wonders since when he expected you to be in the first place — standing there, waiting for him. He stands in line by himself. Makes his order by himself. Picks up his lunch by himself. Taehyung walks to work alone. And every so often, he unconsciously glances to his side and then sighs when he catches himself. He’s not sure why he keeps anticipating you to be with him. Why he allows himself to feel frustrated when he remembers you’re not here. You’ve become Taehyung’s habit. And now you’re gone.

There’s a timid knock at the door. A moment later, it cracks open. “Hey, dinner is ready….” Yoongi’s puzzled to find you standing on a stool, reaching to the top of your closet but he smiles, glad to see you lively again. “What are you doing? Do you need help?” “It’s okay.” You grab the album you were reaching for and wipe off the layer of dust that covers it. “I just remembered I kept old albums up here. Jeez, it’s so dusty.” Yoongi’s brow lifts. “You remember?” You nod, smiling at him. “I do.” The album is flipped open and you step off the stool to sit on the edge of your bed. Yoongi watches you for a moment and exhales softly. “Well, I’ll leave your food on the table.” You thank him and he takes his leave, shutting the door. You guess no matter how bad your relationship with Taehyung got, you never had the heart to throw away or burn the photographs. And you’re glad. The photographs of your wedding day are still in tip-top shape, images showing the pair of you glowing in the sunset with his arms wrapped around you. You remember that wedding dress and that suit of his that had to be tailored twice. You remember being late to the ceremony and having to run with Taehyung who snuck out to see you beforehand even though he wasn’t supposed to...… There are also photographs of your honeymoon, a vacation to the Caribbean, and another trip of Europe that you went on during your university days. But above all, there are photos of the pair of you in front of the newly built house. Proud and ecstatic. The seashell white home with the dark brown roof and large windows and skylights standing tall behind you two. Ready to house your future. Some things change but these memories won’t. // The sprinklers spritzes across the freshly mowed lawn, a sputtering hiss that leaves a mist in the air. You step up the stone path to the cherry wood door, noticing the golden nameplate under the mailbox, but you don’t dwell. In your haze, your closed fist comes to steadily knock at the door. It swings open. Inside, you find someone with warm eyes, brunette hair and a boxy smile. He encapsulates the sunlight itself, so bright that it’s hard to discern who exactly it is. But you feel like you know. Like you had known before you even knocked and the door opened. The man calls your name. And you’re shaken awake from the beautiful dream. And you wake to an empty bedside, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s the middle of the night, darkness surrounding you and weighing heavily against your body. But you fight against it and rip the covers off of your body, grabbing a cardigan off your chair and rushing down the hall. Yoongi is stirred from the noise and gets up from the couch. “Where are you going?” he asks in a husky voice, running a hand through his hair that’s sticking in all directions. But the sleepiness leaves the man as he watches you shake your head, struggling to put on your shoes with tears in your eyes. “I-I need to go, Yoongi.” But for the first time, he reaches out. Yoongi’s hand clasps around your wrist to stop you, having an inkling that you might never return. “I won’t let you.” His foot is finally placed down, but the decision has long been made. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.” “Don’t say that,” he desperately pleads. “But I am. It’s unfair to you. That I’ve treated you this badly while all you’ve ever been is patient and considerate and understanding. But I don’t want you to wait for me anymore.” “You’re not going back to your asshole of an ex-husband. He was horrible to you.” “Yoongi, what do you expect me to do?” It’s a genuine question that you ask. You’re at a loss and the words choke out of you, but you had these feelings the moment you had awoken in that hospital bed. “I love him.” The pause draws on and you lower your gaze. “It’s not fair for you to wait for me to love you instead. I’m in love with Taehyung.” Yet in spite of your words, Yoongi still pulls you into him. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight as if you might vanish between his fingertips. You come to realize that you never gave Yoongi a chance to express his love to you — you never kissed him or held him despite how long he waited. You feel him tremble against you. The man who you had woken to presses his face to your shoulder, his quiet tears staining your thin clothing. You return his hug, arms lifted around his torso and grasping him close. You remember who he is. You know well. He’s Min Yoongi, the man who you loved. After a moment, he releases you. “Go.” You nod. “I’ll always be thankful to you, Yoongi. More than you’ll realize.” // The car door slams shut. You cross the street, approaching the house that still stands tall on the quiet suburban street illuminated by lamp posts. You’re not sure what you’re doing here at this time of night and you know you’ll just be disheartened when you see another family inside, living in the space that was meant for you and Taehyung. But you needed to see it. It’s your home. What you made with Taehyung. Physical proof of your planned devotion to one another. The house is dark and you assume that the people inside are long asleep. So you take a moment to gaze at it, heart aching inside your chest, and after ten minutes, you turn to walk away and leave your home behind. But then a car drives down the road. It’s a modest vehicle and as you wait for it to pass to cross the street, it instead pulls into the driveway of the house. The headlights turn off. The engine dies. The car door opens. And you freeze, watching the person emerge. “Taehyung?!” The strapping brunette man is unmistakable. He’s dressed in his work clothes, casual sweater and black trousers, his leather crossbody bag slung across his torso. He looks tired from what you can see with the glow of the many street lights, his hair messy and eyes weary. But he still has the energy to be shocked at your sudden presence. Shocked as if he’s been caught in the act. “What are you doing here?” You speak on an exhale. “Y-You bought the house back again?” He bought it after the two of you lost it. Even when there’s no reason to. Not unless it still holds sentimental value. Not unless the memories held in there were ones he still cherishes. Not unless he still loves you. Taehyung murmurs your name, “Y/N…” You run to him, closing the distance, throwing your arms around his neck. And you kiss the silly man breathlessly, pressing your mouth against his and swallowing the groan that leaves his lungs. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close and quickly reciprocating. His head tilts and his tongue slips into your mouth, drawing noises out of you like when you were young and still exploring one another. But it’s a kiss of sadness and longing — yet still sweet even after so much time has passed. After a handful of seconds, Taehyung pulls away. “W-What are we doing?” He shakes his head, letting go of you. But you grab hold of his hand. “I still love you, Taehyung. I love you.” His earnest eyes search yours. “How….how do I know you won’t just remember why you wanted to leave me. How do I know it won’t happen all over again? We’re still the same people, Y/N. It didn’t work once.” “I don’t care,” you spit at him desperately. “To me, it feels like it was until yesterday that we were still married and in love. And right now, right now I still love you, Taehyung. I miss you. I don’t care what happened, that you lost your job, lost the house and started to feel bad about yourself and gave up on us.” Taehyung’s eyes are rounded and his lips part. “You….remember?” You nod. “I have gradually for a while now.” Bits and pieces had fallen together the longer you spent with him, the more you looked at pictures and mementos, and searched your memories. They were loose puzzle pieces, moments of time, until you fit them together to create a whole picture. To finally understand why things happened the way they did. And you can finally recall the downward spiral of Taehyung all those years ago. How he abruptly got laid off, losing his dream job that he had worked so hard to obtain, how the two of you lost the house when your sole income was no longer enough and how depressed he became about losing that home. How he sat at his desk for two years in the dark, playing games and wasting time, giving up on searching for a job and refusing to get himself help in his poor mental state. You remember how he ignored you until you felt like his mother and couldn’t take it anymore. How he pushed your sanity enough that you had to walk away before you were damaged. But in spite of all that has happened… “I still love you.” He’s an absolute shit, but you love him. Without being able to blink, Taehyung tugs you in by your waist and he presses his lips against yours, holding you close to him. You smile against his mouth before your hands lift to cup his cheeks, cradling his face as he deepens the kiss. It’s desperate, hungering to make up for lost time, fulfilling the yearning that has dwelled between the pair of you each time you spoke. Taehyung kisses you like he’s missed you more and the pair of you barely manage to break apart to stumble into the house. “I can’t believe you bought this place back.” It’s a whirlwind, nostalgia slamming into you as you step into the foyer. You’re overwhelmed with emotion, feeling a staggering urge to start crying. “Had to do a lot of negotiating, but I did it,” he murmurs proudly, happy to show you how he’s picked himself up, how he found another passion and followed the path, that he’s no longer so pathetic. “All on my own too.” “Taehyung…” He kisses you again, less gentle than before. He’s merciless, hands placed on your hips and your back arches into him until the force of his body causes the two of you to fall backwards onto the floor. Taehyung catches your head so that it never hurts and he hovers over you, leg between your knees while he peels off his coat. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, gazing into your eyes. “I never got to tell you that. I’m sorry for hurting you.” You nod, grasping at his forearms that’s next to your head and he takes the opportunity to lean down. Taehyung lay pecks against your cheek until he moves his way down to suck bruising kisses into your neck. You cry his name, writhing against him as he palms your breast and leaves his marks all over you. Taehyung eats you out on the cool tiled floors of the foyer entrance, filling the house with obscene sounds that make you embarrassed. But you can’t complain, not when you’re sobbing his name and your fingers are sinking into his hair. You end up cumming all over his swollen lips and chin, and you bat at him when he grins and says it’s delicious. Before Taehyung can completely ruin the mood, you grab him and with little warning, his cock sinks into your cunt, head poking right at the entrance of your cervix. You feel full and he begins to pound into you, satisfying that itch you’ve had for so long. Taehyung makes you look at him the entire time and as you hold him, it hits you just how much you missed him. Tears leak from your eyes and it only eggs him on to be rougher. His fingers sink into the meat of your thigh and his mouth leaves hickeys down the valley of your breasts to admire later. You cum again and then he presses his pelvis into yours and cums in you as well, painting your walls in white. Despite being sweaty and sticky, Taehyung kisses you again and the two of you hold one another. He’s sweet and affectionate until he starts to push his cum back into you with his fingers when you begin to leak. “Now you’re not even trying to hide the fact you want me to get pregnant.” The man mischievously grins. “Last I checked, it was yesterday that we wanted kids.” You burst out laughing, unable to argue with that but…. “We’re not even married anymore. What would your mom think?” “She would probably cry tears of happiness if she knew we were together again. And marriage…” He interlaces his hands with yours. “We could make it happen again. If you want.” You nod. “I do.”

It’s another chance. Another do over. You wonder if you had never lost your memories and tried to chase them down, if you would’ve ever reached out to Taehyung again and reignite the spark between the two of you. Had you not found him again, you wonder if you would’ve known that he’s picked himself again and returned to the man you fell in love with. It’s hard to say but those things are yesterday’s problems. Today, you look towards the future. “Wake up, sleepy head.” On any other day, you might kick him in the knee for waking you up on a weekend, but it’s been so long that you don’t mind whatsoever. Taehyung’s mischief is world’s better than waking up to an empty bedside or to someone you can’t genuinely love as much. “Ugh.” You open your eyes and immediately slap a palm against his mouth. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.” Taehyung peels your hand off, grins and smooches you anyway. You laugh and quickly reciprocate. When it’s all done and over, he snuggles into you. “You know…” You’re wrapped in each other’s arms and you slowly blink awake, glad that you’ve finally woken up with him beside you. “...those brown walls in this room are going to have to change.” Taehyung laughs. “Happily.” There’s nothing been more certain of. You want to spend tomorrow with Taehyung and the day after that and the day after that. Until eternity.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #throw away your logic y'all #and indulge in some hopeless romance

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

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hello! it's me again!! um.. can i request a day at an amusement park with taichi please? i feel like he doesn't get enough love.

thank you so much for requesting, clover~ ♡ please enjoy this super fluffy piece, just for you~ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊ i put lots n lots of #LOVE in it! <3 i love you with all my heart!!!

summary: even cupid deserves love, too!

warnings: bad relationship (slight mention), envy/jealousy, loneliness, misunderstandings

author’s note: happy valentine’s eve eve, my friends! i’m sooo #Happy !! i love valentine’s so much ♡(*´･ω･)(･ω･`*)♡ if you are Free on February 14, i am here waiting with flowers <3 (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞⋆**💐 (please celebrate v-day with me TT) ~ in celebration of my favorite holiday, please smile at this fluffy headcanon of taichi as the lovely, adorable cupid! 🏹💗 i love you all!

word count: 3,567

music: heart attack – loona (chuu)

stupid cupid.

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

every year, taichi spent valentine’s day alone

february 14th was another day of being absolutely single. but, for him, there was nothing better than seeing love in the air

especially as the “cupid” working all february long!

as cupid, taichi looked forward to becoming the epitome of pink & red hearts every year. it was a job no one else except him could do; who else to predict the probability of relationships than the matchmaker himself?

taichi loved love! he always could tell when people had crushes on others growing up like it was second nature. he couldn’t even count on both hands how many successful relationships he’s gotten together

love came easy to taichi. it was everything valentine’s was: floating heart balloons, bouquets of red roses, sights only romance movies would show, chocolates that came in heart-shaped boxes, poems from the heart, and so much more~!

the moment taichi set his eyes on someone, it was like he was the one who loaded the arrow and fired it. he knew who liked who, it was what he did best. his intuition was second to none, he was the amusement park’s cupid

for a month, all taichi had to do was sit at a booth and predict a person’s love life leading up to valentine’s day. it was easy money considering his success rate was 99%!

(we don’t talk about the time taichi accidentally caused a break-up... but, that’s beside the point!) (at least they’re happy now...)

yet, there was one thing wrong: taichi was loveless

despite being made of love, breathing love, living out of love, taichi had never celebrated valentine’s. it seemed like all the arrows missed him completely

taichi had never experienced any of the things that made love love, but that was okay! sure, it was a little lonely seeing happy couples all month but... it was worth it to see the smile on people’s faces! love wasn’t just romantic, platonic love was super important!

still... taichi forced himself to smile to apply the heart-shaped blush to his cheeks. there was a part of him, a hole in his heart, that longed to know what valentine’s felt like

FEBRUARY 1 — taichi fluttered the pair of angel wings excitedly, happy to be back in his valentine’s attire. he couldn’t help but jump up and down, squealing about how good it was to be “back in business”

even without his usual pink & red contacts, taichi’s eyes would’ve had heart-shaped pupils with how much love he had for this holiday season! as he greeted his coworkers for the first time in a year, taichi stood out amongst the crowd of workers listening to their orders for the day

as usual, taichi would be the cupid at a small, glittery booth that was louder than life itself. sure, it was a very discreet and low-budget set up, but it always was a fan favorite to catch this valentine’s season

taichi couldn’t help but run off to his station the moment he was dismissed, his wings flapping behind him and sling of heart arrows jostling. he almost slid past his stool but skidded, luckily landing in the right place with a bright grin on his face

when the afternoon officially began with people beginning to come in to the amusement park, taichi tapped his feet with exhiliration. showtime!

“welcome~! find out your love fortune this valentine’s season!” taichi happily advertised, putting his heart and soul into gathering the attention of the masses. slowly but surely, people began flocking to his side, unable to resist the teen’s infectious love and happiness to be here

it was like taichi raised the bow & arrow and fired into the squad. it captured the hearts of a hundred as people sat down across from him, seeking his love & relationship advice

there was a multitude of ways taichi could make someone’s day. whether it was reading love oracle cards or mixing up candy hearts, taichi loved putting on a show for people to enjoy

during a gap between couple sessions, taichi leaned his cheek against his hand and quietly whined to himself. he had recently just met such an adorable and lovey-dovey pair, even he felt sick with how much sweetness there was!

taichi wished he had that... before looking up. suddenly, his heart skipped a beat

it was like the gods & goddesses of love had heard his prayers because today was the first day he saw you

someone passed by the forming line. you hadn’t even noticed him, but taichi had certainly noticed you. when the moment passed and you disappeared, taichi had to focus before getting back into his cupid persona, smiling charmingly like nothing had happened

but, something did happen. taichi had just experienced love at first sight!

taichi hadn’t even had time to load his arrow before you hit him with his

it’s not like he was going to see you again, though... taichi’s loveless life wasn’t a romance film. nor a sappy piece of literature, unfortunately

though, for once, cupid wished he had someone to share this special month with like everyone else

FEBRUARY 3 — taichi was in charge of the valentine’s decorations comimg up. this was perhaps, the best news he had received in his entire life

there was something about folding a million origami hearts that made taichi’s own heart grow a thousand times larger. it was calming during his breaks to fold and fold again, with no thought process behind a skill that came naturally

as taichi cut the colorful paper into the perfect size with ease, he was humming the latest pop song on the radio before he heard something that made his heart break

arguing?! in the loveliest season of the year?!

taichi glanced around and noticed a distinct couple. the pair was fighting rather publicly despite the other person trying to keep their voice down and calm their partner down. before taichi could turn away and mind his own business, they sighed and turned in his direction

taichi felt his breath hitch in his throat as his hands froze, the paper suddenly bent in his tight grip. it was you, the person from two days ago!

so much for it being an one-time thing... taichi could already feel the butterflies in his stomach just at the thought of this being fate. twice in a row? did this mean something?

as taichi tried to search through his brain for what the chick flicks and rom-coms liked to say, you had already left with the person you were arguing with. as they walked ahead of you, you hung your head low with the shame and embarrassment of public humiliation

for some reason, taichi hated seeing you like that despite not knowing anything about you. he was irrationally frustrated as well; how could anyone just make you sad like that and not apologize?

taichi figured he could do one last love reading for the day

when you passed by his booth, you didn’t notice how taichi had left a surprise in your jacket pocket

you exhaled softly when you arrived home, leaning on the door and closing your eyes. when you put your hands in your pockets, you paused as you felt something between your fingers

pulling it out, you noticed a small red origami heart. inside, was a message in a messy, hurried scrawl

“leave them, you deserve better. be with someone who makes you smile! — cupid ♡”

despite everything, you smiled

FEBRUARY 5 — taichi barely had time before there was a person at his booth: you

before taichi could even process that you were real, you spoke: “i broke up with them.”

taichi blinked. this was the first thing he’d learn about you, and it wasn’t even your name! this type of news usually wouldn’t make taichi feel like this, but he was honestly over the moon. he didn’t need to know anything else to know your previous partner had little to no consideration for your feelings

he’d definitely be a better boyfr—wait, what?!

“oh.” taichi said lamely, but his heart jumped when you laughed. it was a nice sound, one that made him think of giant teddy bears and sugary sweet candy. taichi wondered how hard the arrow hit, it must’ve gotten bullseye

“what’s your name?” you took the words right out of his mouth, and taichi blushed under the attention. despite being the main focus of the valentine’s event every year, it was different coming from you. it was like... you were really seeing him

“cupid, at your service!” taichi quickly jumped into character, bowing with a flourish. if he was in an anime, he’d be sparkling with rose effects right now, taichi thought proudly

but, you didn’t clap or amuse him like his other customers. instead, you observed him with a questioning look. it was like you were picturing him without the valentine’s attire, without the wings, bow & arrow, and glitter across his face

“i meant your real name.”

taichi blanked. you were a surprise; he had never been this speechless in his entire life... it was honestly kinda embarrassing for him, taichi was flustered for once

“but, why do you want to know?”

“because you make me smile.”

when taichi told you, you said it aloud and he finally understood what it meant to have a crush

all it took was one conversation and taichi was head over heels for you

FEBRUARY 7 — taichi had never been a target of love before. no one had ever liked him, nor had he ever developed a serious crush on someone before. he was far too busy fixing everyone’s disaster of a love life, never mind his own!

yet, it was like the world aligned so you two could meet. taichi swore the stars aligned, fate was working its magic so you both would meet at this giant amusement park during the most romantic month of the year

even though it had only been a week or so since taichi first met you, it felt like you two knew each other for your whole lives. after getting over the fact you made his heart beat way too fast, taichi quickly warmed up to you and vise versa

while you only came to actually thank cupid for helping you get out of a bad relationship, you realized you very much liked the person behind the angel wings. taichi was everything you expected and more, with his personality that reminded you valentine’s maybe wasn’t so bad

speaking of, taichi was absolutely in hysterics when he found out your stance on valentine’s

“what?! what do you mean you don’t....” taichi took in a deep breath, as if it pained him to continue. “you don’t like valentine’s day?!”

you knew it was ironic to befriend literal cupid when you didn’t have a taste for romance to begin with, but you tried to hide your entertained expression with a lighthearted eye roll

“i’ve never celebrated it. it seems like a capitalistic excuse to buy a bunch of overpriced stuff, to be honest.”

you physically winced when you heard the crack of taichi’s poor, poor heart. his puppy eyes widened at your revelation and leaned forward, uncharacteristically serious for his cupid persona. luckily, he was taking a fifteen-minute break so the curtains were drawn to hide his immense sadness

“b-but!” taichi spluttered, his brain running a million arguments at once, which was way too fast for his mouth. “it’s valentine’s day! it’s sooo romantic! love is everywhere! how can you not love love?”

you thought about it some more before shrugging, crossing your legs and trying to not break taichi’s heart even more. the poor cupid, it looked like he was going to cry like a baby

“why do you love love then?”

only you could render taichi silent. he had never been truly asked that question before, nor had he reflected on why he was the first person to become cupid every year

when taichi struggled to answer, you waited before he started speaking. it lacked the usual wonder and excitement he always had, it seemed like it was almost... personal

“i love love because... love is who i am. i didn’t...” taichi stopped, as if considering sharing with you before continuing, not giving you the second to tell him he didn’t have to. he wanted to, anyways

“i didn’t have love to call my own, at least, not the way i wanted it. so, i made my own love. i love people, i love the world, i love everything. everything deserves love! just because i love a lot, doesn’t make it any less special.”

you thought taichi would’ve said the expensive bouquets florists made of the prettiest roses. or the largest stuffed animals holding stitched plush hearts in their paws. or sunsets with classical music playing in the background like a nicholas sparks film. not... not that

“okay you sap, maybe valentine’s day isn’t that bad if you like it, then.”

taichi’s wings fluttered and he sat up, a smile upon his face

“i promise, valentine’s day is the best!”

now, that i’ve met you, taichi thought

FEBRUARY 9 — taichi came to work only to find a bouquet of flowers upon his booth. they were the grandest displays of affection yet, with the best-smelling hundred petal roses he had ever imagined

you, on the other hand, weren’t so impressed

“cupid, have you stolen the heart of another?” you said in the tone of a dramatic shakespearian actor, pretending to swoon when taichi hid his face in the flowers

“i... usually get flowers like these when i work, it’s nothing, really.” taichi mumbled, holding the flowers to his chest as a warm feeling spread across his body. he usually never got flowers, this was the first time someone had found his charms alluring enough to gift him such a pricey present

one look and you already knew he was lying. your heart fell a little when you noticed how happy taichi was, but you pretended to not care as you winked at him

“oh~ taichi has a lover now, huh?” he giggled in response, adamantly denying it despite holding the bouquet like it was his most prized possession. you glared a little harder at the red roses more than you’d like to admit

why were you feeling so... jealous? it’s not like you wanted the flowers or anything so—oh

when taichi turned that lovesick gaze towards you, you suddenly felt like you were on a sugar rush

when taichi performed his role better than ever with his newfound love for all things traditionally romantic, you watched off to the side

you reached up to your chest to feel the arrow, but to no avail

have you fallen for cupid?

FEBRUARY 11 — taichi shuffled the cards professionally, but his behavior was anything but that. the last time you had sat on the other side of the booth was days ago, but here you were, waiting for your love reading

when taichi met you, you weren’t a person who heavily believed in love. romance wasn’t something that made you happy nor did valentine’s day make you count down to february 14th like him. yet, you suddenly paid for a reading

you stared expectantly at him, your face once again unreadable and hard to distinguish. even if taichi was friends with you, he never mastered the art of reading you like a romance book. it was one of his most prominent talents, too, so it was strange why he couldn’t

you only showed him what you wanted him to see, unfortunately. regardless, taichi did the whole shebang, theatrics and all even if you had seen it a thousand times by now

“welcome to cupid’s love booth! let me read your love life~” taichi laid out the pink cards in a pretty, attention-grabbing manner before asking you to pick three. you did so relatively quickly, which taichi admired you for (he had once sat waiting for someone to pick, but they had taken nearly ten minutes. there was only so much cupid could do)

when taichi flipped them over, it was surprising, to say the least. of course, you didn’t understand a thing as you waited for him to explain. however, taichi fell quiet, reading the cards with furrowed eyebrows

“awww, come on, cupid, give it to me straight. am i destined to be single forever?” you joked but a part of you worried about taichi’s reaction. even though he wore his heart on his sleeve and always expressed his feelings, he had never reacted this negatively to a reading before

taichi laughed at your joke, but it felt like a customer service one. it seemed strained and before you could ask if he was okay, taichi’s brilliant wink put him back as the amusement park’s favorite cupid

“is there someone you’re not telling me about~? it seems like you have a friend you like, am i right?” taichi had hit bullseye; how did he know just from those cards? you didn’t answer, just offering an innocent shrug as if you didn’t care. you very much did, though

“so i am! i’m seeing that you’ve recently liked them, ahhh, young love~” taichi sighed, as if in love with the concept already. “looks like love’s in the air, my dear, so don’t worry about a thing! they like you back, without a doubt.”

you looked up at this, eyes wide before returning to your nonchalant state. taichi wondered what that could’ve meant even as he tried to maintain his shaking hands

“they do? how do you know?”

taichi held a finger to his lips, as if it was a secret only cupid could know

“shhh, i just know. trust me, they’d be a fool to not like you back.”

you could tell it wasn’t cupid just talking, and you knew what you had to do

“i’ll ask them to be my valentine tomorrow, then.”

taichi’s heart broke but... as long as you were happy, how could he say no?

FEBRUARY 13 — taichi wished he had a valentine. if only you liked him, maybe he would’ve asked you, his first crush, to be his this month (and even longer). but, you were somewhere else, asking someone else to be your valentine

taichi frowned, finding it hard to maintain his happy excitement forever as the line began becoming longer and longer. taichi huffed, looking around as if you’d suddenly appear. but, taichi’s life wasn’t a movie...

“hey cupid, why so sad?”

taichi turned around to see the biggest plushie he had seen in his entire life. it covered your entire frame, with the dog ears flopping over its giant black eyes cutely. in its arms was a red heart with the cursive words “i like you!” in white stitching

before taichi could even react, you peeked over the plush’s shoulder with a slightly embarrassed look

“can you take it already? i’ve been getting weird looks from everyone i’ve walked by.”

taichi took the plush and placed it on the seat next to him, about to speak before you pulled out an even bigger bouquet from behind your back

they weren’t just red roses. they were a rainbow of them, ranging from pink, white, yellow, blue, red, and even black! taichi could barely even count how many there were before you passed it to him, doing your best to not pass out and die from how sappy this all was

“see, these are even better than the bouquet you got last time. i clearly am the better, uh, person for you, you know?” taichi didn’t have the time to respond before you turned around again and presented a display of chocolates, all of them heart-shaped and tied in ribbon

“you like chocolate, right? yeah, of course you do, i also got—” before you could keep rambling, taichi gently held your hand. your heartrate skyrocketed and you froze, unsure of what to do when taichi was looking at you with his heart eyes

“you got all of this... for me?” taichi was genuinely amazed and flattered, a light dust of red across his cheeks at how romantic all of this was. you blushed as well, looking away bashfully

“i mean, yeah. i don’t see anyone else around.”

“but... you don’t like valentine’s day?”

you sighed, knowing the next words out of your mouth are word he’s going to never let you forget

“but, i like you.”

“but... i thought you liked someone else?”

“stupid cupid, i like you. only you.”

taichi stood up, not as cupid, but as himself. when he softly turned your head towards him, he smiled gently, squeezing your hands with all the appreciation in the world

“i like you, too. with or without the romance, i would’ve said yes to being your valentine no matter what you did.”

you breathed a sigh of relief. sure, you didn’t love love like taichi, but... he deserved it

“i have an idea.” you proposed, leaning in closer as taichi awaited your response with bated breath

“you should open a kissing booth.”

“you’d be my only customer.”

“then give me my kiss already!”

FEBRUARY 14 (valentine’s day) — every year, taichi spent valentine’s alone. until, he met you

“stupid cupid, i like you.”

you and taichi were shot by cupid’s arrow this valentine’s day

#nanao taichi #taichi nanao #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #taichi x reader #a3! taichi #a3 taichi

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