#both headphones in notebook and laptop out

[mysicklove]

I GOT HIT ON TWICE IN 10 MINUTES IN THE FUCKING LIBRARY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MEN

[agi-ppangx]

love song (bang chan x gn!reader)

angst with a fluffy ending, both chan and reader are producers/songwriters, chan is kinda an asshole for a while but he quickly apologises, not proofread; 1,3k words

author's note: a little fic requested by a lovely anon !! i kinda wrote it in one go and didnt have time to properly correct the mistakes so i apologise for typos and any other stuff >< please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“time for a break,” you announced with a smile as you entered your little homemade studio holding two bags. “i got us some food and coffee.”

chan looked up at you from his laptop and mirrored your smile, taking both bags from you with a soft thank you. you sat down on the couch with a loud huff and chan handed you your food. 

“you wanna listen to the song? i made a few touch ups to that part we were struggling with,” he asked, sipping on his americano and you nodded, mouth full of the pasta. 

as soon as chan played the song you closed your eyes, letting yourself be completely engulfed by the music. 

it was a rather upbeat melody, but when you were writing the lyrics a while ago you tried to make it really emotional and, what’s most important, true. some might think it’s cliché to constantly write songs about your lover, but it comes naturally to you. the emotions you pour into the lyrics, the memories and wishes, everything is about you and chan. and even as you sell your songs to various artists, you always know exactly who it’s about when they sing it. 

you snapped your eyes open around the middle of the song as one fragment of a few seconds did not sound as it should. 

“wait, let me listen to it again” you said with a frown and he wordlessly rewinded the song for a few seconds. “why does it sound so weird?” you mumbled to yourself as that one part was just not right. you took a sip of coffee from your cup, trying to understand what changed about the song. you two were talking about that part a few days before and…

“channie, did you change the melody?” you asked in disbelief. he turned around to look at you, but your irritated expression didn’t make any impression on him. 

“yeah, it sounds better now, right?” you huffed loudly, getting up from your place on the couch to walk your anger away. 

“i told you i want this part to sound specifically as it did before! why would you change it? we talked about it,” you let out, your voice getting louder with each word spoken. 

“relax, baby, it’s not a big deal,” he explained calmly, trying to reach for your hand, but you were quicker, taking it away and putting it in the pocket of his hoodie that you were wearing. 

“no, it’s the fact that it’s the first time we finally work together and you already don’t listen to my advice.” 

it was chan’s turn to huff, he was visibly getting annoyed by your words. “this wouldn’t be a problem if you wouldn’t make one of it.” 

“this wouldn’t be a problem if you wouldn’t ignore my opinion.”

“alright, yn, let’s just stop this. i’m getting tired of this conversation,” he said, turning around and putting his headphones on, pretending to work on some other track just so you wouldn’t bother him anymore.

you stood in the room for a while longer, staring at chan in pure shock. he may have pretended to be busy, but as you finally decided to leave the studio he noticed how you wiped your face and he sure heard the loud thud the door made as you slammed them. you went straight to your bedroom, wrapping yourself in the blanket and trying to stifle your sobs. 

hours passed as you finally sat up, grabbing your notebook to write some ideas for new songs. your eyes were still puffy as you scribbled down random words and rhymes, desperately trying to take off your mind from the argument, but no matter how hard you tried the situation came back to you like a boomerang. you weren’t sure if chan did it purposely or if he simply forgot about your conversation - you knew he was busy, so it might’ve slipped out of his mind. but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt you. 

both of you dreamed of working together for a long time - someone might think that you two could easily just write some songs for each other in your home studio. isn’t that enough? people say, but you always say that it’s different to play around on a saturday evening with a glass of wine and to write and produce tracks for other artists. it is a big deal to you - the fact that the song you both worked on will be featured on another artist’s album, heard by thousands, if not millions of people, and they all will hear about your love for chan and only you will know who it’s about.

a soft knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you put down the notebook, keeping a firm look on chan as he quietly closed the door behind him. he was already in his pyjamas, ready to sleep, and you fought the urge to send him to sleep on the couch.  

“you still mad?” he asked with hesitation dripping down his voice. you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to say something other than the obvious. “listen, i feel really bad.”

“as you should.”

he sighed, scratching the back of his head. “i know. but i don’t wanna go to sleep without talking.” he said desperately, taking a few steps onward and carefully sitting on the other side of the bed. 

you exhaled loudly. you also didn’t want to leave it like this. “it really hurt me, y’know?” you started, feeling as the tears started to well up in your eyes. “we literally talked about the song a few days ago and i told you how i want that particular fragment to sound like and you agreed. then why-” your voice broke a little as a few tears ran down your cheeks. chan was quick to wipe them off and this time you didn’t stray from his touch. “-why would you change it now? i just don’t understand.”

chan took a moment to think before he spoke again. “i have nothing to say in my defence,” he started quietly. “i was just bored yesterday when i couldn’t sleep and decided to change a few things about the song and i just forgot to leave that part be. i’m so sorry, baby, i know i shouldn’t have behaved like that earlier, i don’t know what had gotten into myself,” he confessed, his cheeks now cherry red as shame filled his body. he didn’t look at you, he couldn’t, because he knew he fucked up.

“let that be your first warning,” you said firmly after what felt like eternity to chan. “i’m not that experienced as you when it comes to producing songs, but i would really appreciate you actually listening to my ideas. just talk to me whenever you want to make changes like that, okay?” chan nodded quickly. 

“i will. i’m really sorry, my baby.”

“i know you are.”

“are we okay now?” he asked hesitantly. 

“yeah, we are.” you smiled softly as chan’s body visibly relaxed at your words. “but i’m still hurt though.” 

“will a kiss make it better?” he proposed, a bit bolder now as the atmosphere around you wasn’t so tense anymore. you didn’t respond, leaning over to place a peck on his lips with a smile. 

“maybe a little bit,” you giggled. chan captured your face in his hands, looking you deeply in the eyes. 

“by the way i changed that part,” he confessed. “it sounds exactly how you wanted it to.”

you grinned, whispering a soft thank you, and chan finally kissed you, making the world around you disappear. you didn’t know how long it was before you finally broke the kiss, panting heavily.

that night you held him in your arms, letting him rest his head on your chest so he could hear your heartbeat and to his surprise it was his favourite love song that you ever created.

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[rad1og1rl]

“Studying” With Jason Todd

Slumped over at your desk, in your messy dorm, your boyfriend Jason found you. You wish you were asleep. But you have an exam tomorrow, and if there’s one thing you’ve never learned, it’s that cramming is not a valid form of studying.

Can you really blame yourself ? It’s your second semester of your freshman year. You’ll learn eventually. Just not today. As you scribble away at your notes , glancing at the video for reference, you don’t notice the stealthy footsteps of your boyfriend. You’ve got headphones on and you’re in the zone, something which Jason realizes as he approaches your hunched form.

He taps lightly on your shoulder , announcing himself quietly as to not disturb you. At the interruption , you pause the video and place your headphones on the cluttered desk, turning to face him. He grins boyishly , and offers a hot cup of cocoa.

“Oh, Jaybird, thank you.. I didn’t realize you’d be stopping by tonight,” You say, graciously accepting the cup and lightly tugging his shirt, which he obliges by leaning down to meet you for a quick peck.

“I didn’t originally plan to, but someone didn’t answer my texts or calls.” He says, giving you a pointed look.

You grin sheepishly and set the cup on the desk. “Sorry… I think my phones been on Do Not Disturb. I’ve been studying for this exam for hours…. I’m really worried I’m gonna fail.” You admit, pouting slightly. Jason quirks a brow and glances at the video on your laptop, the open textbook, and various notes. He then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, I get it. I didn’t like chem either. But that’s no excuse to make me worry the way you did. I know you didn’t mean to.” He says, then glances back at you. “But I also know you’ll do fine. You’ve been at this all day. Take a break. Go to sleep. You’re smart. And you studied before this, so you’ll be fine.” You smile and nod, turning off the laptop and shutting the textbook, pushing the notebooks and scattered papers to the side.

“I hope you’re right, Jay.” You sigh, standing up and pushing in the desk chair. You lean against your leather-clad boyfriend, and he embraces you tightly. He pushes you to the bed and you sat down, and he handed you the cup before sitting next to you.

“Trust me. You’ve got this. And I’m tired of seeing my baby stressed over this.” He says, peeling off his leather jacket and tossing it on the chair in front of the desk. He kicks off his boots and makes himself comfortable on your bed, while you sip the hot beverage quietly beside him.

“How was it tonight ? … Out there, I mean. On patrol.” You murmur , still clutching the paper cup with both hands as you stare off into space, post-cram haze and lack of sleep hitting you full force. Jason glances at you as he’s leaned back and propped up on his elbows, eyeing your dazed state.

“Same old. Few goons here n’ there… kicked their ass, got the info, then went to that café you like on 33rd Street and picked up that cocoa. Figured you’d appreciate it…” Jason says, thoughtfully. “I always do. You’re the best.” You say, smiling and finishing the drink, setting the empty cup on your bedside table. “And to think… you even got me something when you were upset with me?” You ask, crawling up further on the twin bed and lying on your side, waiting for him to join you.

Jason catches on and mimics you, lying down to face you with one arm under his head and the other resting between the both of you. “You’re right , I should only get stuff for good partners that pick up their phone.” He says, half-joking. You roll your eyes at his playfulness and reach one hand to his between your bodies, and lightly trace the rugged scarring littering the rough hand.

“I know you’re kind of joking … but I really am sorry I didn’t answer. I know that it really makes you worry.” You say, tiredly. Jason sighs and brings a hand up to pet your hair, placing it on the crown of your head and pushing your face towards his own for another kiss. “Just… try not to do it again. Please.” He huffs, stroking your cheek with the hand he trailed down from your hair to face. You snuggle closer to him and reach behind you onto the bedside table, blindly searching for your remote . Upon finding it, you shut off your lamp and set it behind you once more, cuddling into Jason’s broad chest once darkness settles over the two of you.

“I love you, Jay.”

“I love you too,” He says, kissing your forehead. “Now please , go to sleep. You’ll do fine on that exam.”

[vietcrepes]

◡ ✶ SCHOLARS IN SESSION!

study date headcanons with the sbg kids

◡ ✶ notice board: gn!reader as always, not proof read, established relationship, food mentioned in taylor's part, might be ooc

୨୧ ASHLYN BANNER

she doesn't really care for studying, between phantoms and ballet, studies are one of her last priorities. she'll do the very bare minimum to pass and make good score, but making time out of the day to study more? she'll respectfully pass. there are other ways she'd rather spend time with you, like curled up in bed, or teaching you how to dance.

it's not until it gets to exams that she decides a study date won't be bad, and if it's just the two of you it'll be peaceful. now, studying might not be her favorite thing, but when she studies she's focused, just as she would be in anything else.

you were in ashlyn's living room, her parents providing with plenty of snacks as she listened to music through her headphones. you? absolutely bored out of your mind. you had to analyze this poem and it was your least favorite thing to do in the world. ashlyn felt eyes boring into her head, and met eyes with you. with a sigh, ashlyn moved over to be closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and continuing with her work. "you're the one who wanted to study, at least focus for a bit"

◡ ☆ click to read the rest!

୨୧ AIDEN CLARK

the one time you manage to sit him down to have one of those cute pinterest study dates is the day society reaches its peak

he'll probably be pacing around, playing on his phone, and maybe doing a problem here or there. he's struggling on a problem? he was simply destined to not know the answer. don't take this the wrong way though, he's a brilliant student, really!! once he sees you struggling he'll be explaining the problem flawlessly, like he was the teacher of the class himself

"babe" aiden dragged out, on his phone as he draped his body on top of yours, "we've been here forever, let's go to the arcade" your features softened at the sight of aiden, but you had to stay stubborn. "no, it's only been 15 minutes hun, I need to finish this assignment." you were stuck on the math behind this particular chemistry problem, and it was driving you insane. "oh, you just have to convert the units to moles so you can cancel out the units in the next step" he said, looking up from his phone. "wait what-" you said, realizing he was right. he only beamed, once again asking if you two could go to the arcade. with a sigh, you gave in. after all, who could deny what aiden clark wanted?

୨୧ BEN CLARK

he tries his best to focus, but ultimately he ends up taking a nap halfway through the study date. the combination of schoolwork, classical/lofi music, and the soft sun worked in harmony to have ben doze off. if you play with his hands or hair it'll be the final thing that sends him to sleep. no matter how many times it happens you just can't bring yourself to wake him up

you scribbled in your notebook, listening intently to the history video playing on your laptop. after all, you had a written paper coming up that you needed to study for. your hand was intertwined with Ben's, the both of you sitting at the Clark's kitchen island as you could hear aiden playing video games upstairs. your fingers were intertwined with his, rubbing circles on his hand absentmindedly as your brows furrowed in focus. feeling ben's hand go limp in yours, you glanced over. he was fast asleep, blissfully undisturbed by your upcoming exams. you smiled, and tangled your hand in his hair as you decided against waking him up.

୨୧ TYLER HERNANDEZ

no matter how exhausted he is, he'll always find time for studying. he's driven and knows what he needs to do to achieve his goals, but his priorities can skew, especially after the savannah trip. he unfortunately has other worries, namely you, taylor, and whatever the hell goes on at midnight

it's you who reminds him to refocus on baseball and his studies, and once he does it's like he never lost his focus in the first place. he doesn't like studying for more than 4 hours a day, and usually only studies for around 3. no matter how long he's studying though, one things for certain, he'll always be touching you, whether it be a hand on a thigh or holding hands

tyler stifled a yawn, finishing up his annotations for this english passage as he got ready to write an analysis on the language use. the two of you were on his bunk, you researching for a presentation for another class. your head was rested on his shoulder, rambling on about how one of your group mates simply refused to do their part for the project. he listened intently, chiming in with the occasional "what an asshole" or even a "snitch on them." when your tangent was done, you went back to a comfortable silence with you typing away and tyler slouched over, writing away.

୨୧ TAYLOR HERNANDEZ

taylor is the perfect study date, point blank period. she's just as driven and zoned in as her brother but she's light hearted and doesn't make studying feel like a chore. she'll bring plenty of snacks and ask plenty of questions

while her questions are greatly appreciated, they can tend to stray off topic from your studies. in fact, most of the time they result in you two talking about issues entirely unrelated. before you knew it, piles of unfinished homework was before you and two hours had been spent talking.

taylor spun her pencil around, doodling on her science worksheet as she laid down on her stomach, swinging her feet in the air. she had finished a good portion of her work, but she had kept the hardest subjects for last. you were taking a break, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as a much-needed refresher. taylor, now uninterested in working, propped her chin up with her hand as she asked, "want to look at my welding projects?" upon hearing your laughter, she quickly sat up, "it'll be a nice break! we'll still study afterwards!" she defended, steadfast in her beliefs. you gave in, and an hour later you weren't even focused on welding, but rather something else entirely.

୨୧ LOGAN FIELDS

i feel like logan prefers studying the subjects he's good at on his own — he'll get into the flow of the equations and rules of the world that he'll be in his own little bubble.

of course, you are the exception to this. he loves doing anything if it's with you. he's willing to help you but you try not to rely on him too much, you won't be able to retain the information if you don't struggle through yourself after all. despite this, he'll go out of his way and help you if he sees you stuck on the same problem after too much time

logan glanced over at you, chewing on your bottom lip as you furrowed your eyebrows at the paper. he smiled, placing a hand on your back as he leaned in. he smelled flowery, an obvious side effect of working at the flower shop. you leaned on his shoulder, complaining about the problem and the class. "it's simple, you just need to look at it from another angle." he said, picking up your pencil before explaining in detail

writers note: it's my biggest fear... headcanons. this is just something indulgent and short n sweet 🙂‍↕️ ashlyns feels so ooc and poorly written I am so sorry ashlyn lovers.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 2 - Work Introductions

Autumn Embers Masterlist

CW: Mentions of child loss, mentions of medical neglect/abuse, mentions of reproductive abuse, mentions of pregnancy complications and death, mentions of racism, sexism (in an omegaverse way), Brandon (unfortunately living), real world references

Data entry and analysis isn’t the most exciting job in the world, no matter what kind of fancy title you’re given, but it pays the bills. Working on a military base isn’t ideal, but the benefits are nothing to sneeze at. And most days, you get to sit alone and uninterrupted, in your own office, instead of in a cramped cubicle.

On Tuesday, you’re startled out of your audiobook by a gentle knock on your desk. Sherry, your immediate superior, gives an awkward little wave and waits for you to finish your line and mute your music.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about this,” she says, as soon as your headphones are clear. “You remember those port reports from Honduras? Some of the senior analysts have some questions for you? They’re currently in a meeting and requested some clarification…?”

You wait, but she doesn’t say anything else. “…what do they want to know?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell me, I’m sorry,” Sherry says. “They asked if you could… Well, they need you to attend the meeting. Right now.”

“Do I even have the clearance for that kind of meeting?” You stand without waiting for an answer and disconnect your laptop from the dock. With it tucked under your arm, you grab a notebook and pen, as well as your water bottle.

Sherry leads the way out of the office. “I know you submitted these reports two weeks ago, and your notations are excellent. I think the problem is with one of the flagged ship manifests, but they wouldn’t clarify why they were concerned. Couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

Her apologetic air suddenly makes sense. “Brandon’s in there, isn’t he?”

Sherry grimaces. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s him and a few alphas. There’s an American CIA agent as well.”

“So I absolutely don’t have the clearance for this meeting,” you sigh. “Great.”

A short elevator ride and two halls away, you take a fortifying breath before you step into an occupied meeting room. Brandon’s is the first face you see, and when he sees you the corners of his lips turn up in an infuriating smile. Next to him, another senior analyst’s eyebrows pop up, but Andrew actually looks happy to see you.

Before the door can close behind you, a blonde, American alpha stands and offers her hand in a no-nonsense shake. “Kate Laswell. We appreciate you being so prompt.”

“Of course,” you answer. Unfortunately, your attention is a little torn. All four members of the 141 are sitting at the table, looking at you curiously. Sergent MacTavish grins like a wolf. Captain Price tips his chin up just enough that you know he’s scenting you. Lieutenant Riley, face covered from the nose down in a black neck gaiter, gives you a quick once over that makes you want to shiver. But you’re a professional, so instead of fleeing you take the nearest seat, across from a smiling Sergent Garrick. You fold both of your hands on top of the table, the very picture of accommodating and helpful, “What can I assist you with?”

“Why’d you flag this shipping manifest,” Brandon asks. The projector at the front of the room switches to a document that would be barely legible, even without the distortion of zoom.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him, flipping your laptop open. “What’s the file name?”

“Honduras,” Brandon says, Port Cortez.”

“Puerto Cortes,” you correct. And seeing as it’s the largest seaport in Central America, I’ve combed through literally hundreds of manifests, you think, but don’t say. “I’m going to have to ask you to be a bit more specific. The projector isn’t easy to read.”

“You flagged this manifest for a Korean ship.”

You jump when Sergent Garrick says, “Christ, mate, just give her the file name.”

Lieutenant Riley gives a cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. You think you see MacTavish still grinning at you out of the corner of your eye. Laswell rattles off the document name without looking.

As soon as the document loads, you know exactly why Brandon and Andrew are confused. And you know that the following conversation is going to be so unpleasant that you shoot off a quick email to take the rest of the day off once this meeting ends.

You take a deep breath, let it out slowly. “The manifest is inconsistent with previous patterns from that particular port and that particular captain and crew. As I noted, the four containers from Venusian Pharmaceuticals wouldn’t have made it on the ship do to political and economic pressures.”

Brandon doesn’t bother to look at you when he asks, “What pressures?”

Laswell interjects before you can answer, “Leaked internal communications provided evidence that Cloudstone Pharm was selling tampered heat suppressants and birth control in various black markets. The 4B movement in South Korea had been calling for an investigation for years by that point. A lot of omegas were killed because of mis-labeled medications. Pregnancy and birth related complications.”

“I remember that. It was, what, five, more years ago?” Lieutenant Riley asks. “Had an entire re-brand. Cloudstone to Venusian. Everything went from blues and whites to greens and yellows.”

“Okay, so the containers had a bit of extra security to get onto the ship,” Brandon says, before you can get over the shock of two alphas in a room who know anything about even the broad strokes of omega health care. “There’s protesters at every major port for one thing or another.”

“Even if they’d gotten on the ship, they wouldn’t have made it to Puerto Cortes,” you counter. “The captain lost two of his kids because of their medications. He’s had his crew dump the containers and alter manifests before. He was investigated for it, but his crew wouldn’t speak against him.”

Brandon frowns. “How do we know he didn’t get paid off?”

How do we know the omegas weren’t worth less than a cash payment? Your throat feels like closing in on itself. You keep your voice as steady as you can. “He wouldn’t have been.”

“How do you know?”

Andrew, eyes darting between you and Brandon, tries to interrupt. “Well-”

“Because he made the autopsy reports for both of his sons public,” you answer. You have to force your jaw to unclench. “Along with pictures and videos of how sick they were before they passed, before anyone knew what was really wrong with them. And the executives of Cloudstone, an American company, laughed. Called them slurs and ignorant animals in emails and meeting memos that were later leaked to the public.”

Across from you, Garrick is not smiling anymore. “That’s… disgusting.”

“Cloudstone struggled to recover in eastern Asian markets, even with the re-brand,” you continue, then take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And all of this was in my report.”

“Your job isn’t to provide those kinds of references. You’re not trained for it. There were a couple of links to articles,” Brandon dismisses. “Not enough to-”

“One of his sons experienced total organ failure,” you interrupt, closing your laptop. You know your scent must be all over the place, but the subject matter was already touchy. Now he’s questioning your work and misrepresenting your job duties? Oh, fuck him. “Because he was on incorrectly administered fertility treatments that were disguised as birth control, he had a high-risk pregnancy with multiples. And then his medications were switched with heat inducers. His other son had rapid onset neuropathy and multiple strokes within a week. Neither of his sons wanted to have children. One of them couldn’t, biologically, because it would have killed him anyways. And their partners decided that they didn’t care.”

Brandon wrinkles his nose at you. “No need to get so worked up.”

You practically feel the way your scent goes hot and acrid. Where most omegas have a distress scent that is sickly sweet, yours is much closer to an alpha’s shock scent. Your parents used to call you “Wildfire” because of it. You watch the hairs on Garrik’s arms stand up.

You can barely smell Andrew’s nervous distress over your rage. “Okay, yeah, that’s plenty. The captain wouldn’t have taken the containers.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t consult the references I added into the report?” You know the sudden calm in your voice, the relaxing of your posture, is at odds with the way your anger scent gets stronger. You’ve been told it’s a sensory nightmare, so you only do it when someone tells you you’re not calm enough. You fold your hands on the table again. “Because I included original and translated sources, according to the standards of the department.”

The room is silent. All seven alphas are agitated. You can only pick out MacTavish’s scent, muddled and frustrated. Andrew opens his mouth, closes it. Finally says, “I didn’t receive the references.”

“Senior analyst Lawrence received the full report directly,” you say, holding eye contact with Brandon. “But I know how emails can get lost. I would be happy to send them again. I’ll CC you, and request that your access to the full drive be confirmed. Sir. Is there anything else I can assist the team with?”

Laswell scrawls something on a sticky note and passes it over to you. “Please also include me on those emails.”

You give her your most demure smile. “Unfortunately, Agent Laswell, I don’t have the clearance to send reports outside of the department. I would be happy to help you coordinate that with senior analysts Lawrence and Bennett.”

You pluck the sticky note from her hand, stand, and gather up your laptop, notebook, and water bottle. When you have everything, you pass behind her to where Brandon and Andrew are sitting. Deliberately putting yourself at Brandon’s back, you hand the note to Andrew with a placid smile. “Agent Laswell requests that you provide her with the full report.”

Brandon smells disconcerted, trapped in his seat with your scent roaring as you stand just inside of his blind spot. Andrew, for his part, only hesitates for a moment before taking the offered sticky note, looking from you to Laswell to Brandon and back. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.” Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“I… believe that will be all…?”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.” You cement your little performance with a perfectly deferential partial curtsy to Andrew, then to the rest of the room. “Please do not hesitate to let me know if there’s anything else I can do the support the team.”

As the door shuts behind you, you hear Captain Price’s voice for the first time. “Goddamn. That is a woman capable of murder.”

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miles morales x reader - purple

miles takes you out to get slushies

You’re in the zone, notebooks and textbooks laid out, pens scattered everywhere, music from your headphones blasting in your headphones. You’re studying in your dorm, nodding your head to the music while you scratch down a few notes on paper. 

Midterms are coming up, and you’re studying hard. Students have been clawing their way through classes like zombies, grunting and sighing to themselves like half-dead corpses. 

It’s already dark outside, the only source of light in your room being the technicolor laptop screen in front of you. You hear a beeping and occasional crash outside, but that’s just New York. 

At first, you don’t hear the knocking on your window, too endorsed in your music to notice. It’s only when the knocking gets louder and faster that you pause your study session. 

Hesitantly pulling down your headphones, you look towards your glass window. You recognize that black suit anywhere, the one that looks like he’s bleeding from his armpits. 

It’s Miles. 

You get up from your desk chair, flipping the lock on the window and pushing the glass pane all the way up. Like the thousands of times he’s done before, Miles crawls through your window, stepping onto the soft carpet of your dorm. 

He’s been getting bigger, stronger, lately. Only shame of that is the fact that it’s harder for him to fit through your window. 

Miles dusts himself off, and you spread your arms wide for a hug with a smile on your face. He practically lands into you, squeezing you tight and forcing the air out of your lungs. He’s so happy to see you. 

He sighs into your hair. 

“M’ glad you’ve been keeping your window locked.“

“You said you hated it yesterday.“

“Shhh....“

The two of you unclasp, and Miles tugs his mask off his face. He presses a kiss to your temple, shifting his gaze towards the array of study materials on your desk. 

“Midterms?“

“Yep.“ You say, popping the “p.“

Miles ponders for a moment, peering from the bags under your eyes to the impossibly large stack of papers on your study space. Subconsciously, he kneads a hand into your side. 

“Hey, you wanna go somewhere?“

“Miles, it’s 10 at night.“

“How bout’ the 7-Eleven down the street?“

“Mmmm....“

“I’ll keep you safe. You’re lookin’ at the one and only Spiderman.“ Miles says, gesturing to himself with a smirk. 

You playfully roll your eyes. “Alright. I think I need a break anyway.”

“For real.“ Miles mutters. 

Miles scouts your dorm room for a jacket, maybe some sweatpants. He usually leaves clothes at your dorm anyway. You throw a pair of grey sweatpants at his head, but he catches them in his fist. Over his suit, Miles throws on a jacket, slotting his legs through the sweatpants. 

It’s cold out, so you throw on a jacket, putting on slippers over your fuzzy socks. Miles shoves his mask back on just so his identity is concealed. If anyone asks, Spiderman was just saving a person who got lost 

“C’mere.“ Miles says, his arms already out near your window.

You gingerly rise up on your tip-toes, wrapping your arms around Miles’s neck. He slots one hand onto the lower curve of your back, and the other where your thighs and calves meet, carrying you in a somewhat twisted princess carry. 

Miles carefully inches through your tiny apartment window, and you duck your head down to make sure you don’t hit it on the way out. 

Your heart already pumping in your veins, Miles jumps out into the open air, one hand slinging the both of you through Brooklyn, the other slotted underneath your upper thighs to keep you from plummeting to the ground. 

You never really admit it, but you love when Miles slings you both places. The wind in your face, Miles holding you close, the sounds of New York. You adore it. 

It’s not very long before the ride ends, and Miles pulls lands in a very suspicious alleyway. 

“I knew you were plotting against me all along.“ You joke, and he sets you down onto the concrete. He yanks his mask off, shoving it into his jacket pocket. 

The florescent lights of the 7-Eleven glow a bright white, as if it were it’s own sun. Miles pulls the door open for you, such a gentleman. You step inside, and Miles gives a nod to the cashier. 

“Ooh! Slushies.“ You say, staring at the almost hypnotizing swirl of neon colors in the tank. It’s so inviting, the perfect thing to have at 10pm.

Miles already helps himself, grabbing a cup and handing one to you. As you suspect, Miles gets the blue flavor, while you get the red cherry cola. You can hear the light pop and sizzle of the slush as it pours, making you all the more thirsty. 

You take a sip, and you sigh in enjoyment. 

“You want anything else?“ Miles asks, and you shake your head no. He guides you with a hand on your back to the cashier counter, and the man already starts typing in the order. 

Miles reaches into both jacket pockets, but no avail. 

“Shit, forgot my wallet.“

A.K.A, Miles doesn’t keep his wallet on him during patrol. 

“All good man, on the house.“

“Thanks, man.“

You nod, and Miles reaches his arm past your head, pushing the door open in front you. The cold air of Brooklyn engulfs you, and you can nearly see your breath cloud up. 

Slowly, the both of you talk, inching back towards the dark alleyway from before. On your tip-toes again, you press a chilled kiss to Miles’s chin. 

“Thanks, Miles.“

“I didn’t even buy it.“ He chuckles, shamelessly pulling you into him after taking another sip of his slush. 

One thing leads to another, and Miles starts kissing you, starting from your cheeks but eventually leading down to your lips. Simultaneously, he draws you in and holds his slush with the same hand, using the other to bury it in your hair. 

Miles chuckles into your mouth; it’s fun to kiss when you taste like cherry cola. Miles is taken by surprise when you boldly prod your tongue into his mouth, a blush rising high onto his face. With the slight privacy of the alleyway, Miles feels brave enough prod and poke your lips with his teeth. 

When you finally let go, Miles’s face is warm in contrast to the cold air, almost hot to the touch. It’s rare when you two ever truly swap spit, but Miles thinks its special when you do. 

Its a bit silent for a moment after, but neither of you can stop smiling. Miles in particular can’t stop touching you all over.  

A thought pops into your head. 

You rummage through your pockets for your phone, switching it on and pressing the button to activate your flashlight. 

“Miles, open your mouth.“

“Woah, babe, didn’t know you were into th-“ He jokes.

“Oh my gosh Miles, it’s not that.“

Miles chuckles. He loves poking at you. As he was told, he opens his mouth, and you point the flashlight at it. You start laughing to yourself, the light of the flash flickering everywhere. 

“What? Is it my face?“

“No, look!“ You pull up the selfie mode on your phone, using the brightness of your phone to the best of it’s ability. You press your cheek to Miles, sticking your tongue out for the camera. 

“It’s purple!“ You cackle, and Miles starts chuckling along with you. 

There’s spots on Miles’s tongue that are deeper in blue, but still nonetheless a lavender color. You giggle, snapping a few photos. 

“We should try again but with different colors.” Miles smirks, slyly resting his head against your temple. 

You smirk. “Just tell me you wanna make out more, Miles.”

He shrugs, dropping an arm around your shoulders. “Hmm. Maybe.“

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

The Man Who Talks to Himself and the Girl Who Listens

WC: 6.7k

Rating: 18+, fluff to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. This is my first fic.. hope you like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

You wouldn’t have heard him if the song hadn’t just ended. For whatever reason, that little bit of muttering caught your interest. You hit pause before the next tune can fill your ears. He’s sitting just behind you. You’re tempted to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. You’re sure he came in alone, so it seems he’s talking to himself.

“Then again, confusion is a higher sense of consciousness...” He trails off.

What a brilliant way of thinking, you muse. He goes on outlining a plan of some sort, maybe for a novel or a play; it’s captivating. Unfortunately, he would stop thinking out loud at some points, but no matter how long the pause, you couldn’t turn your music back on and miss any of his magic. Because that’s what it felt like: magic. He was filling you with such wonder; you could burst.

After a while, he gets a phone call, though, and the show comes to an end. You hear him packing up his things; you watch him stride out of the cafe. Silly as it is, considering you don’t see his face, you think he looks handsome - tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty shade of reddish hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap.

The next day, you decide to return to the cafe. You tell yourself that it’s just a nice, low-key place to get work done and enjoy a few cups of tea, but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping the man will be there again. You arrive half an hour earlier than yesterday and sit at the same table, sipping on blueberry tea with your headphones in, laptop in front of you. Fifteen minutes in, you hear the bell on the door jingle. You try for nonchalance as you glance at the entrance. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him the day before, but you’re sure it’s the same man. To your delight, he brings his things to the table behind you before going to the counter. Despite the mask, you can tell your initial assessment was correct - he’s handsome. He has his hood up rather than a hat today, so you still don’t get the full effect of his hair, just see the slight waves of his bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are quite dark, but nice, and slightly downturned, reminding you of something or someone that you can’t place. How can someone look so good when most of their face is covered?

For the next few hours, you sit transfixed by the man, at times sitting stagnant just listening to him, your own work forgotten. Eventually, you both have to leave, but before you do, you stop by the barista. “Hey, this may be a weird question,” you try to sound as casual as possible. “But does that guy who was at the table behind me come in here often?”

“Yeah, he’s been in here most weekdays,” the girl responded. “But he probably has classes or something on Monday and Wednesday, cause I don’t usually see him then.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Odd as it feels, kind of stalking this man, you continue coming back to the cafe over the next couple weeks, only skipping those days when you’re sure that he won’t be there. At times, you even jot down questions that you’d want to ask him if you could, but you never speak to him. You always sit with your back to him, headphones in, pretending not to listen.

At the end of the week, he gets a phone call. As he heads outside to take it, you hear him say that he’ll be back on the road in about a week and feel a surge of panic for some reason. You realize that you can’t just be the girl who listens anymore.

You flip to the document that holds your questions for him and grab a notebook out of your bag. You quickly jot down the two most recent ones, furtively glancing at the door to check that he’s still on the phone. You can’t decide if you should write your email or your number; you almost can’t believe you’re doing this at all. You add to the top of the page “confusion may be a higher sense of consciousness, but I’m so curious” and write your email to the bottom. One more look at the door tells you that now’s your chance; you quickly set the note in front of his coffee.

While you were somehow brave enough to leave the note, you're certainly not brave enough to hear him read it. You hurriedly collect your things and head for the door. His call must’ve just ended; he opens the door and holds it, nodding at you. You hope your blush isn’t obvious, but even if it is, he must get that all the time. He’d left his mask off when he went outside. He is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever not-actually met. He has a strong, straight nose, and his face is oval shaped - a good mix of masculine and boyish. You kind of hate that he’s giving you that obviously fake, pursed, polite smile instead of a real one, but why wouldn’t he; you’re giving him the same one.

The next night when the notification sounds, you don’t think much of it. You almost decide not to check your email before bed, but something is nudging at the back of your mind. You click into it and see the subject line: Allow me to bring some clarity. You’re a little stunned that he actually wrote you, because it had to be him; who else would it be?

His answers are short, a little cryptic. But he told you that he’s writing music. You have the smallest insight into his head, and you love it. What you aren’t sure about is how you feel about the fact that he clearly knows who you are. Well. Maybe not clearly. He guessed that you’re you, another regular, or the waitress. He also wanted to know if you have more questions. He signed off as ‘Thinking Out Loud’ rather than giving his name. You wonder if you should avoid showing just how long you’ve been stalking him, but you are curious. It’s time to go big or go home. You thank him for his email and copy over the rest of your ‘Questions and Thoughts’ doc. You also consider fessing up, telling him who you are. But you could be mysterious, too. Ultimately, you sign off as ‘the Listener.’

The night passes, then the next day. It’s Monday, so you don’t go to the cafe. The anticipation is killing you. You decide that if he doesn’t respond before the night is over, you just won’t go back. Maybe that’s cowardly, but it would be mortifying. He’d obviously been freaked out by how long you’ve been listening to him. So much for that hobby and unraveling the mystery of Mr. Thinking Out Loud.

The next morning, you see that you received an email around 4 am. He had replied after all. He didn’t answer any questions, though. It simply read: Same time at the cafe today? Smiling like a fool, you get ready for the day and try not to freak out about the invitation. It was an invitation, wasn’t it? You take a little extra care with your appearance - applying a subtle lip stain, a little eyeliner, and mascara.

As usual, you arrive before him. You go back and forth about sitting at ‘your’ table or his. It is possible that he hadn’t been inviting you to truly interact with him. You sit at your own table and somehow manage to focus on your work for a while. You figure you have a bit of time before he arrives, so you head to the restroom. As you’re walking back toward your table, you freeze.

The guy.

He’s sitting there.

At your table.

The seat across from yours.

You force yourself to move. He looks up as you draw near and offers you a small, welcoming smile. And you’d thought he couldn’t get any cuter. You sit as the waitress stops by to drop off his coffee and a fresh tea for you. She winks at you as she walks away.

“I hope you don’t mind; I hear you like the blueberry.” He smiles again and wow. It’s incredible. He extends his hand. “My listener, I presume?”

“You caught me,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry if it was weird of me. You just seem so… interesting.”

There’s no way he doesn’t see your blush this time. The corner of his mouth quirks back up. Then he just takes a sip of his coffee and starts talking. You don’t even need to put your headphones on, because this time, he’s talking to you.

•

You both stay longer than usual. Two more rounds of drinks and a couple shared pastries later, you learn that he’s a musician and trying to write a connected story within an album, something he’s never done on his own before. He also, ears reddening, admits to not realizing he talks quite so much while he’s working. He answers your questions, even asks for your feedback and compliments you on your insights. You’ve always loved watching people talk about their passions, and today is no different. He lights up when he talks, practically glowing. If you thought his first smile was nice, then this full, joyful smile is fantastic. And when he laughs? It makes your heart flutter. He’s beautiful.

All too soon, he says that he needs to head out to his next schedule. You finally notice the time, and while you know you should leave, too, you’re sad that this is over. “Same time on Thursday?” you ask meekly.

He smiles at you. You try not to hold your breath. “Sounds good.” He gathers the last of his things, stands to leave, and gives a small wave. “It was great talking to you, Listener.”

You almost tell him your name or ask his, but he’s already walking away.

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re nearly vibrating with excitement. How can one coffee date, if you can even call it that, get you so eager to meet with a man you barely know? Though in a way you’ve been getting to know him for a while, indirectly. Plus, music can be a very personal expression of one’s self, and that’s clearly his intention considering your first conversation. Two and a half hours before it’s time to leave, however, your light dims.

The subject line of the email reads: ‘Scheduling Conflict.’ He addresses it to ‘My Listener.” My listener. You’re beaming and feel incredibly silly about it. Your smile falls again, though, as you read the rest of the email. He lets you know that he won’t be at the cafe today, and he didn’t want you to show up and think he stood you up. He thinks that he’ll be able to meet you tomorrow, but will let you know if things change. Things at work are picking up for him, it seems. You try not to be too disappointed and resolve to be much more chill about the situation tomorrow; it’s literally just coffee with an attractive man who seems very intelligent and kind. Right.

So with take two on Friday, you stay busy and try not to think too much about him. Still, you can’t help being excited; you practically bounce into the cafe. He’s not here yet, but he didn’t email today, so you’re optimistic. Despite already brimming with nervous energy, you decide to have a latte today. You settle in with it at your table when the bell on the door rings. He’s sporting a black bucket hat today; it’s a great look.

“Coffee today, huh?” He takes his mask off as he sits, offering that brilliant smile. “What’s your order?”

“Oh, it’s a blonde, breve vanilla latte,” you smile back but notice that he doesn’t have his customary bag of writing materials. Your smile fades a little.

He grimaces a bit. “Sounds too sweet and milky.” He signals to the waitress and she brings him his customary americano without him even needing to order it. “So there’s been a little change in plan again today. I can’t stay too long, but I didn’t want to cancel on you again.”

It’s sweet that he made time for you, but you are disappointed. You remember overhearing him saying he’d be on the road next week, so who knows how long it'll be before you might see him again. If you’ll see him again at all. But you said you’d be chill today, so chill you will be! You talk more about the concept of his album, asking and answering questions and offering suggestions and compliments. All too soon, your cups are empty.

He checks his phone and gives a wry smile. “I need to head out… See you around.” As he stands and moves to leave, he looks back at you thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be interested in getting a drink with me tonight, would you?”

You hope your smile isn’t too wide. “I’d love to, do you have somewhere in mind?”

He jots down an address and his number on the back of his receipt. “Great. I’ll see you at 9? Just call me when you get there, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives you one last smile before he puts on his mask and heads for the door. Across the bottom of the slip, he’d also written his name. Seungmin.

•

You consider trying to look him up before your date. It is a date this time for sure, right? You hadn’t told any friends about him yet, ‘cause you still felt a little like a stalker, but you need help. When Hana arrives at your apartment, you immediately spill the entire story.

“You never took any pictures of him?” She laughs. “What kind of third-rate stalker are you?”

“Hey! I tried my best not to be creepy… or any creepier than I was already being.” You get out two tops and a dress. “Okay, so I don’t wanna seem like I’m trying too hard, but I wanna look good. What do you think?”

She considers your options. “I’d go with the lilac. It gives you a decent amount of cleavage without being too slutty. What bottoms are you thinking?”

You pull out a pair of dark wash jeggings and black wide-legged pants. “Is it too much flowy or do the black ones work?” Ultimately you decide on the jeggings - as Hana said, they do much more for your ass. She consults on your hairstyle and make-up choices, and by the time you’re ready, your nerves have skyrocketed. “Am I crazy for doing this? Like he seems really nice, but I don’t know anything about him. And he seems young.”

“Oh, you stop that!” Hana rolls her eyes at you. “It’s been forever since you went out with someone. And so what if he’s a little young! Might be a good change of pace; he’ll have lots of energy.” She winks at you and laughs. She might be right. You hope so. Then, just like that, it’s time to head out. As you part ways, Hana offers a few last words of encouragement, “You’ll be fine! Just relax and have fun. If it sucks, it sucks, and you never have to see him again. But if it’s great, it might be the start of a fun adventure!”

You’re nearly to the bar, so you pull up his contact. Seungmin. Not for the first time, you wish he’d given you his last name as well. You might’ve been able to cyber-stalk him as well.

He answers on the second ring. He tells you he’ll be out front, and as you near the bar, you see him step out onto the sidewalk. He asks if you’re close, and you speed up a little. You tell him you are, then hang up; he looks down at his phone, head cocked to the side, clearly confused. You tap him on the shoulder and watch as his expression changes. Even with his mask on, you can tell when his smile lands. You meet it with one of your own.

“Shall we?” Seungmin offers his arm like a gentleman leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor. Once inside, you follow him past the bar and out the back door into an alley. Before you can question him, he points over to the right. A couple meters away, you spot a black door sporting red flourishes. He knocks out a slightly complicated rhythm, and one of the red designs opens to reveal a pair of eyes.

It’s a speakeasy. He brought you to a speakeasy. You didn’t even know that they had speakeasies anymore, though you suppose that’s the point. How does he know about it? He gives the password - flufflebuzz - and you make your way inside. It’s as you’d expect, a bit dark with a masculine, leather-based design scheme. There are small groups gathered around cocktail tables or in the booths lining the walls. Light jazz music floats through the space, covering conversations but not loud enough to make it difficult to have one.

Seungmin leads you to a booth in the back, saluting the bartender on his way. Once you’re settled, he takes off his mask and lets out a little sigh. “I hope this is alright; I know it’s a little different.”

You realize that he’s nervous, which calms you down a little bit. “This is so cool,” you smile at him, gesturing to the bar. “I’ve never been anywhere like this! How did you find it?”

“Oh, some people I work with introduced me to it,” he blushes as he tells you. Another little mystery. “Most people in here work in my industry.” As you turn to take a look around, the waitress arrives with two drinks in hand. They’re yellowish with a creamy foam on top. Seungmin thanks her before you can say that you haven’t ordered yet. “It’s a tradition here, your first drink is up to the bartender, but if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to drink it.”

“Well, that’s fun!” You give the drink a sniff. It smells fruity, though you expected that. You can’t figure out what its base is, though. You dip your pinky in a little bit. If Seungmin notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Your nail color doesn’t change, so you know it’s safe to drink. You pick up your glass and Seungmin clinks his to yours. You take a tentative sip. It’s good, a mix of sweet and sour. Seungmin makes a face, though. You laugh. “Not quite your style?”

“And he knows that,” Seungmin smiles at you before catching the bartender’s eye and flipping him off. They both laugh, and the bartender heads over, beer in hand.

“Not about the passionfruit?” The bartender slides the fresh drink in front of him. Seungmin just narrows his eyes at him. “I know, too sweet. I had to try, though. Now we’re being rude. Don’t wanna scare off your friend here. I suppose you’re really not a fan, huh?” He directs the question to you.

“Oh no, I love passionfruit. I think this is great.” You give him a polite smile, but they share an odd look and laugh.

The bartender picks up Seungmin’s discarded drink and takes a sip. “Happy to hear it. Could be good for you, Min. You guys have a good night.” With that, he gives a quick wink and walks off, joining another table rather than going back behind the bar where you see another bartender has materialized. You’re more than a little confused.

“I’m sorry about that. Chan Hyung is…” Seungmin looks thoughtfully in the direction Chan went. “A little over-protective. He just wanted to see that you weren’t… That you seemed alright. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“It’s fine,” you offer. Though you are still a little lost, you can understand looking out for a friend. “So is he not actually a bartender, or…?”

Seungmin laughs again. Now that you’re alone, you’re able to appreciate the sound of it a bit more. “No, not really. We’re just friends with him, and every now and then Chan likes to try his hand at making drinks somewhere that has a greater variety of ingredients. It’s for the best that they let him; the kitchen would be even more of a mess if he got stuff to make drinks at home. Anyway, enough about him, I wanna learn more about you.”

You blush a little at that and start answering the usual ‘get to know you’ type questions. You try to turn them back to him, but he deflects or quickly asks you follow-ups most of the time. He remains a bit of a mystery. You learn that he works with Chan, but doesn’t live with him - he has other roommates over at the other table, though; he has an older sister, which prompts a question that he answers easily for once.

“I’m 23,” he looks down at his drink, and you can just barely see his ears reddening in the dim light. “Not too young, I hope?” Though you haven’t explicitly told him your age, he clearly recognizes that you’re older than him. Despite not getting too many personal details, you are really starting to like him. And you’re pretty sure that confirms that he likes you, too.

“Not too young at all,” you smile. When your phone buzzes for the fourth time, he tells you to check it and heads for the restroom, stopping at Chan’s table on his way. He almost immediately erupts in the most endearing laugh with the lot of them. He looks so at ease with his friends, making you realize that he has seemed a bit nervous with you.

You look down at your phone to see multiple texts from Hana asking how it’s going, where you are, if you need rescuing. You let her know that you’re fine, having fun, and that you were right about him being younger. She immediately responds, asking if you’re planning on “closing the deal tonight then?” with a wink. At that, you put your phone away and look up to see that Seungmin's on his way back. The rest of the date goes on smoothly, moving from personal details to passions and interests; Seungmin answers a bit more freely now, his face lighting up the way it did in the cafe.

Before you know it, a waitress stops by to let you know it’s nearly time for last call. You’re both a bit surprised. “Wow, it’s gotten late fast,” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck, looking down and biting that perfect lower lip. Hana’s question earlier pops into your mind and now you’re blushing, too. “Would it be too corny if I said I didn’t want the night to end?”

It’s a wonder you can suppress the gigantic smile you know is trying to burst out. “Not at all, I’m having a great time, too.” You consider the table of his friends and roommates over at the other table. Seungmin probably won’t want to ask you to go back to him apparent with so many others potentially being there. You hope you sound casual. “We could always go somewhere else for a bit. Take a walk or have a nightcap at my place or something.”

His eyes meet yours again as he nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

•

The walk back to your apartment is a little quieter than you expected. The closer you get, the more nerves build up. After a few minutes, his hand brushes yours a couple times before he interlocks his fingers with yours. You don’t try too hard to suppress your smile when you see his. As you enter, you gesture to the couch then you head toward the kitchen, running through the rest of the place in your mind, trying to remember if you may have left anything embarrassing out. “What can I get you? Another beer?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be time to switch to coffee if you have any,” he ventures; he follows you to the kitchen and clearly notices your lack of coffee machine.

You grimace slightly. “I know it’s not very good, but I think I have some leftover instant?” His face tells you that it sounds as bad as you feared it might. “Sorry, I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“Blueberry?” He jokes, or at least you think it’s a joke. He’s lost some of the joviality he had at the bar, becoming a little harder to read. “I like to have tea now and then. Could I have something black?”

He agrees to try some lady grey and asks to look around while you put the kettle on. By the time you come out with your mugs, he’s sitting on the couch. He looks much more uncomfortable now. You don’t know if you should be offering to turn on the TV or some music; it’s been so long since you’ve had a date over. What will make things less awkward?

Luckily he saves you from having to decide; he asks if he can show you a music video. You pull up youtube on your TV and hand him the remote. The video he pulls up is titled ‘Stray Kids "특(S-Class)" M/V’ and asks, “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of them?” When you shake your head no, he turns to face you more fully. “How do you feel about how tonight went? Would you be interested in seeing me again?”

This feels abrupt, and he still looks so nervous. You give him a smile. “Tonight has been wonderful, and I’d love to go out again.” You expect him to relax a little, but if anything he tenses up a bit more.

“Me too. I just… need to tell you something first.” Instead of saying whatever it is, he hits play on the video. You consider his profile, as he’s actively not looking at you. Your head snaps to the TV when the voice starts singing. You suppose if it’s this important to him, you might as well watch. For a second you think you recognize the guys in the group, but you’re not sure why. Around 30 seconds in, you know that you’re looking at Seungmin’s friend Chan on the screen. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s still focused on the video. About 10 more seconds and you understand why he’s so nervous. Your jaw drops. This time when you look at him, he pauses the video.

He’s still not looking at you when he speaks, suddenly very interested in his tea. “I would really like to see you again. To get to know you better.” He glances up at you, finally, then nods back at the TV. “But it can be really hard to do that when that’s your job.”

You really don’t know what to say. The best you can come up with is, “You sing so well.” Your stupidity breaks the tension a bit; he laughs then you do. “Sorry, I don’t know what to think right now. I know you said you like K-pop at the bar, I just didn’t realize that you, like, are K-pop. Wow. That’s really awesome.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s one way to put it. I know I just kinda dropped a bomb on you. I can go so you can have time to think about it.”

Your “no” probably comes a little too quickly. “You haven’t finished your tea... Plus, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not sure I even know what to consider about it.”

He gives you a small smile before taking a sip from his mug. “Well, there are a few things to think about. I’m not allowed to date publicly. So if we continued to see each other, it would have to be a secret. And I travel a lot. I’m usually a lot busier; these last few weeks we’ve been on a short break. It would be hard to see each other too often.”

It does sound difficult. Maybe too difficult to consider with someone you just met. But you haven’t connected with someone like this in a long time. He seems like a great guy, he wants to keep seeing you, and he’s so, so handsome. His gaze is on his hands, giving you the opportunity to study his face without feeling self conscious. As your eyes trace his features, you imagine never getting to listen to him write music again, never getting to watch his face light up as he answers one of your questions about it, never hearing him laugh again. As he pulls that beautiful bottom lip between his teeth and raises his head to meet your eyes again, you know what you want. In the morning, this will probably all seem a bit crazier, but for now… you place your hand on his. You lean in and gently press a kiss to his lips.

You pull back and look into his eyes. Time stops for just a moment as you look at each other. You can see the desire in his stare; it matches your own. Then his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you again. His calluses surprise you - you can feel the roughness of them as one hand trails its way down your body and the other snakes back to grip your neck. As his tongue brushes your lip, your mouth opens a bit more in invitation; he accepts, deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours. His hands trace your curves before pulling you closer and you wrap your arms around him. Each movement is insistent, bordering on frantic, as if you can’t get enough of each other. You want to dive into him. He clearly feels the same.

One moment he’s gripping your thigh and the next you’re straddling him, grinding against his growing erection, while his fingers dig into your ass. You pull back and look at him. You’re both breathing heavily. His hands are on your hips now, thumbs rubbing small circles. Your hands are on his shoulders, coasting down to rest on his biceps.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you smile at him. “Plus, I did kiss you first.”

“I meant to give you more time to think about all this.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You give him another quick kiss. “I don’t think I will, regardless of where we go from here. And I do want to see you again. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. So for now, do you think we can just see how this goes?”

He considers you for a moment, those dark eyes boring into yours. He looks so serious, you can’t guess what he’s thinking. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You give him a smile of your own and lean in for another kiss. You sigh into his mouth as his hands slide under your shirt. Your hands find their way into his hair as he grips your waist tightly before pushing your shirt up. You break the kiss to let him take it off, and he shakes his head again before cocking it to the right as he studies you.The look he’s giving you makes you think of a puppy. It’s so adorable and somehow only adds to his sexiness. “You’re really beautiful, noona.” He gives your waist another squeeze as he says it, but his grin starts to falter. “Are you sure about this?”

Your face heats a little at the honorific. Your gaze wanders from his face, down to your seat on his lap, and back up. You roll your hips, savoring the feel of his hard length beneath you. “I’m sure.”

With a small groan, he shocks you by standing up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his thin waist. Your apartment isn’t huge, and he already took a look around, so he knows just where to go. In seconds, you’re on your bed with his weight on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours as he takes your mouth again.

In a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth, you pull at his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He pulls back long enough to pull it over his head, then his lips find your neck while your hands explore his bare back. You should worry about getting a hickey, but all you can think of is how each suck and bite at your neck sends a burst of fire through your body.

A thought strikes you, “I’m - ah - I’m, I’m clean, by the way.”

Seungmin grins, relishing the fact that he’s made it difficult for you to utter a simple sentence. “I am, too.” With that, his lips move south, nipping at the tops of your breasts before he pulls one of the cups down, locking his mouth onto your nipple. He sucks, tongue flicking and circling, while his hands make their way underneath you in an attempt to remove your bra. You arch into his touch, giving him room to work. Once your bra is off, he moves immediately to work on your leggings.

Just like that, you’re fully bared to him, and he finally slows down. He’s kneeling between your legs, just taking you in. You take the opportunity to study him a bit as well. He’s obviously got some muscle, but he’s not built - it fits him. His shoulders are broad, kind of like a swimmer’s. Your gaze drifts down to the considerable bulge in his pants, and you really can’t wait to see the rest of him. Before you can sit up to continue undressing him, he’s back on you. He kisses his way from your lips to your chest, down your stomach, all the while murmuring how beautiful you look, how sexy you are. He nibbles at your inner thigh, eyes on yours.

“Is this okay?” At this point, it feels a little like a silly question, but those puppy dog eyes are back, so you can’t tease him about it.

“Yes, are you–”

Yes was all he needed to hear. The eager thing dives right in, lapping at your clit with a flat tongue before swirling it in circles. He’s barely begun and you’re already starting to squirm, his strong grip on your thighs heightening the experience. You can’t help but let out a small moan. Your hands move into his hair of their own accord. As he laps at your core, pushing you towards your release, your grip tightens.

He pulls back, and you suppress a whimper. He licks his lips and gives you a heart-melting smile. “Does hair pulling mean I’m doing well or do I need to change tactics?” His thumb makes its way to your clit, doing lazy circles as he asks.

It takes you two tries to answer. “Ye-yes, hair pulling means it’s good. Do you mind it?”

His grin widens. “Pull away.” He’s sucking and licking now, driving you wild. You have fistfuls of his hair and, despite his permission, are fighting not to pull. Then he inserts a finger into you, another quickly follows. Your grip tightens again, you let out a gasp, and you can feel his smile. His fingers are curling, massaging into just the right spot as he sucks at your clit again. When you thrust up to meet his mouth, his other arm shifts across your hips and pushes them back down. Your head spins as he adds a third finger. He’s not letting up, pushing you into the stratosphere. An endless stream of moans and gasps spill from your lips and a tear trickles down the side of your face.

“Oh.. Min,” you cry as you come. He slows but doesn’t stop as your body tenses and shakes, clenching around his fingers. As the trembling subsides, he withdraws his fingers and climbs his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. He licks his lips again, then wipes his dripping chin before licking his fingers.

“You taste good.” And you can taste yourself as his lips find yours again. “I like when you call me Min.”

“Please,” your hand finds his bulge, pulling at him while the other starts to pull at his waistband. You’re not usually so needy, but your orgasm has only made you want him more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken at that. You almost wonder if you might’ve put him off with your begging as he pushes up off the bed. He keeps his eyes on yours for a moment then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Say it again.”

“Please,” you sit up to take over, freeing his length with a tiny gasp. You could tell he was big before, but seeing it is another story. An ache pulses in your core at the thought of him filling you up. “I need you, Min.”

There’s been a shift in him. He’s not moving as frantically, the look on his face is devastating - so serious, his eyes full of pure desire. He slowly positions himself back between your legs, a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you down onto your back again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds before rubbing it on your clit then settling it back at your entrance. He leans down, one hand posted next to your head, while the other holds himself steady, and his lips caress yours. He pulls back slightly, forehead on yours, gaze boring into you.

You know what he wants. “Fuck me, Seungmin, please.”

His eyes are still locked on yours as his body shifts, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips. That flips his switch. His lips move roughly against yours as he starts to thrust. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and now it’s his hand fisting into your hair. You break the kiss so that you can suck at his neck. He sighs, but backs out of your reach. “I can’t, ah, I can’t have any visible marks.” You pull his mouth back to yours, your other hand grasping at his back. Seungmin slips a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you feel yourself winding up again. As you meet each of his thrusts, you can’t control the mewling gasps coming out of your mouth. Soon you’re moaning his name again, and he’s breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. His movements become more erratic as you both approach your limits. You squeeze around him as you come again, and it sets him off at a faster pace.

“I’m going to, ah, I’m going to come,” he groans. “What do I, ah, where do I…” he straightens as he pulls out and you scramble to sit up and grab at him. He lets you take over pumping him while you quickly resituate yourself. You get your mouth around him and can barely move before his hand is back in your hair, and the other grips your shoulder tightly. You can tell he’s holding back to let you stay in control as you try to swallow him down without gagging (too much). Your name falls from his lips as he finishes; his hold on you loosens, and you both relax back. His hands move to cup your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed escaping. “Are you alright?”

You smile up at him, resting your hands on his thighs. “I’m fine. More than fine. You’re just a little big.”

He chuckles before ghosting a kiss over your lips. “As long as I didn’t hurt you.” He lays down then, pulling you with him. With your head on his chest, his hand tracing circles on your back, you start to drift off.

•

[ynsvnte]

Cup of coffee? — Park Jongseong

pairing: stranger!jay x fem!reader genre: fluff, love at first sight, strangers to lovers, drabble Synopsis: what seems to be a normal day going to work on assignments, turns into the beginning of a romance story.

word count: 808

warnings: swearing, pecks

Masterlist

The sunlight snuggled between the curtains.. shining onto the floor. The warm kisses it leaves onto your skin.. the warm feeling of it bringing comfort. You rubbed your eyes, waking yourself from your restful sleep. You sit right up lost in thought.

“Wait what time is it..” you whispered to yourself, before looking over to the clock. “7:28” it read. You push yourself out of bed walking straight to the bathroom and get ready for the day.

After an hour or so. You exit the bathroom, getting a whiff a the vanilla candle lit in your bedroom. Early morning vibes. You get dressed in some comfortable clothes, and pack up a bag with your laptop, notebooks, and headphones your keys. You don’t know where you’re going, as you have nothing planned for today. You exit your house.. the cold chilly air hitting you.. but the sun was out.. you liked this weather. You drive to a random coffee shop with the intent of ordering nothing, probably just going to get some work done.

You find an empty seat before setting you itmes down. You pull out your laptop and get to work. You enjoy the feeling of the shop. It was very warm inside the complete opposite from outside. It being Mid-October it was sure starting to get more cold the past few days. You mind your own business, that’s until you feel a slight tap on your shoulder. You pause your music and remove your headphones facing the person.

Your breath hitched at the sight of a man. You noticed his delicate features, his eye.. burning into your own eyes.. that could probably cause you to melt..

“Uhh yes?” You asked awkwardly, hoping he didn’t catch you checking him out.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” The man asked you.. eyes slightly wide, your eyes quickly skim around the coffee shop noticing it was slightly packed.. your eyes meet the man’s back again, you answer with a nod. “Sure..”

He returns your answer with a smile. Taking a seat right in front of you. As awkward as it was for you to try and ignore that he was ever there, you just continued working. Silence between the both of you. Little do you know, this stranger sitting right in front of you was eyeing you the whole time ever since you got here. Did he really give up his seat just to sit with you? Yes.

Something about you made him feel warm inside. Like that feeling was always meant to be there. The way your brows crease in concentration. He found that very adorable about you. He held back a smile hoping to not creep you out.

When asking you if he could sit with you. He noticed how you stared at him for a long time. Your eyes going down to his lips. Who knew what you could be thinking. “So… what are you doing here?” He asked you. You look up staring at him. “Umm just catching up on some assignments..” you nodded. “I was about to order myself a drink.. and I was thinking you’d like one”

He stares at you, waiting for your response.. “sure.. I don’t see a problem.” He asks you what you’d like, before leaving to go order.. as he was ordering you to stare at him. Fuck.. why was he so attractive? You asked yourself. You couldn’t deny a free drink, especially from a man like him. You don’t even know his name.. should I ask? You thought. All these questions running in your head.

He brings both drinks back. Placing your drink right in front of you. “I know this is awkward but I think you’re very pretty..” your eyes widened. A 10/10 saying you’re pretty. Oh you were about to explode. “I- um thank you..” you say while shyly smiling. Your heart starts racing. “I’m Jay.. you are..?” Jay.. a name for an attractive guy. You tell him your name.. He smiles. “You have a pretty name.. not that I’m surprised..” he smirks. He knew what kind of effect he had on you. Were you embarrassed? Yes. But you force those feelings aside.

“I actually only sat here because I wanted to ask you out..” This man was not holding back. Especially for someone like you. He couldn’t miss the opportunity. “Oh.. so..?”

“So… well you go out with me.. I can give you my number.” You were fangirling inside. The teen within you was screaming. “I.. mean sure..” Jay grabs a napkin before stealing one of your pens and writes his number down. He passes the napkin to you.

“Guess I’ll see you soon.” He says before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. He walks away, but the feeling of his kiss lingering..

You touch the spot.. smiling widely.

Author’s note: writing this and then disappearing for a long while yeah. I’m sorry but the lack of motivation is crazy trust I want to write but there literally no motivation what so ever. Even this hurricane has classes canceled.. for the 4th time.. stay safe love you!! Sorry for the shit writing yall it’s been a while 😐

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[alotofpockets]

A piece of home | Kerstin Casparij x Dutch!Reader

Where you're studying in Manchester and find a piece of home in Kerstin.

(Dutch / -English translation-) & @totaly-obsessed thank you for proofreading!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.2k

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As you settle in one of your favourite coffee shops, you put on your headphones and get your books and notes out of your bag. You had a big exam coming up, and you were planning on spending the morning here studying for it. 

A soft tap on your shoulder is what interrupts your deep focus. You turn, and are met with the hopeful gaze of a girl. Adjusting one side of your noise-cancelling headphones you acknowledge her presence. “Hey, sorry to interrupt. I was wondering if I could sit here.” She points to the seat opposed to you. “The rest of the place is packed.” Glancing around, you realise for the first time how busy it had gotten since you had sat down about an hour ago.

“Sure, take a seat.” You smile softly at her, and move some of your books to the side. She places her coffee order on the table, “Thank you, and I promise I won’t distract you again.” You chuckle and shake your head, “You’re fine, don’t worry.” 

With your headphones back on, you block out the noise in the shop again, and focus back on your notes. The girl in front of you had opened up her laptop, and was intensely watching the screen, and taking notes from time to time. A part of you wondered what she was doing, but she was just a stranger that wanted to sit down in the last empty seat in the coffee shop, and you were just the kind stranger that allowed her to. So, you push the thought to the back of your mind, and flip the page of your notebook to continue reading your notes. 

The soft buzzing of your phone on the table is the next cause of your focus leaving your school work. Flipping the phone, you smiled at the name that popped up on your screen. Your little sister pulling a silly face covers your screen as you pick up the facetime call. “Hey kleintje.” -Hey little one.- You say with a big smile on your face, “Ik ben aan het leren in een café dus ik kan niet lang bellen, maar hoe was school?” -I’m studying in a coffee shop, so I can’t call long, but how was school?-  Since you moved to Manchester to study abroad, you have called with her every single day. Your mom had been nervous to have another kid so long after she had you at eighteen. The age difference between you and your sister was twelve years, but she was your little best friend from day one. You listen to your sister tell you about her day, before you hang up the phone again, with the promise to call her for longer later that day. 

You look up to find the girl in front of you looking at you. She blushes when she realises you caught her looking. “Sorry, ik probeerde niet te luisteren, maar het is goed om Nederlands te horen tussen al deze Engelse mensen.” -Sorry, i didn’t mean to listen, but it’s so good to hear Dutch amongst all these English people.- You hadn’t expected her to start talking in Dutch and were taken back slightly, before your smile grew. “Zeg dat wel, wat toevallig dat je nou net bij mij komt zitten” -You can say so, what a coincidence that you came to sit with me.-  You laugh at the coincidence, before introducing yourselves to each other. 

Your books and her laptop were long forgotten, as you got to know each other. Kerstin ordered the both of you another coffee, and a few croissants for lunch. 

Over the next couple of months you found a piece of home in each other. You often found yourselves back at the coffee shop where you met, the shop where your love story began. It had become a part of your routine, you would study, and she would analyse matches. Having found out what she was doing on her laptop after all.

Kerstin was going to national team camp back in your home country, which was perfectly timed with your week off and week of online classes, so you headed back home with her with the plan to meet each other’s families for the first time.

While she had to meet her teammates for camp right away, you went home to your family. You opened the front door with your key, and not two seconds later your little sister jumped into your arms. “Je bent thuis!” -You’re home!- You hold her tight, “Ik heb jou ook gemist, kleintje." -I’ve missed you too little one.- It was nice being able to catch up with your sister, mom and stepdad a little before you would introduce them to your girlfriend.

After two days of training, Kerstin had a day off. You took the train and met her in Utrecht, where you spent some time together, before you headed off to meet her family first since she hadn’t seen them since she got here. 

Her home felt warm, and comfortable from the moment you stepped inside and were welcomed by her parents and two brother’s with open arms. The nerves you had felt on the way here vanished instantly at how great they were. You got to know them over a home-cooked dinner, and a few boardgames after. When it was time to head to bed, you felt like you had known her family for years.

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kerstin_casparij just posted

kerstin_casparij: Always 🧀ing with this one

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After a lovely breakfast with her family, you made the trip back to your place. This time bringing Kerstin along. With your girlfriend’s hand in yours, you let her into your home. She was welcomed just as warmly into your family as you were into hers. It made you really happy, especially since she was the first girl you had ever brought home to meet them. 

Kerstin’s bubbly personality was a perfect match for the ball of energy that was your sister. You were watching them interact with each other. Your mom noticed the loving look in your eyes and nudged you slightly, “Dat zet je aan het denken, hè?” -Makes you think, right?- Her comment brought a blush to your cheeks, and made the butterflies in your stomach spring into action. 

With a match to play in Breda, Kerstin had invited your family to watch the match in the family and friend’s section. She has also asked your sister if she wanted to walk onto the field with her.

You were grateful for the fans that had filmed the interactions between Kerstin and your sister, and had posted them on TikTok. They were in your favourites folder, and you were watching them on repeat back in your apartment. You were so focussed on them, that you didn’t hear Kerstin walk up behind you and watch over your shoulder. 

“Hoe vaak was dat?” -How many times was that?- You turn around instantly with widened eyes. Kerstin’s smirk grows when your face looks like you felt caught. “You’re cute. Ik hou van je.” -I love you- She places a soft kiss on your lips. “Ik hou ook van jou.” -I love you too.- 

She sits down beside you, and you cuddle into her side. “Klaar om je zusje te bellen?” -Ready to call your sister?-

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y/n_y/l/n saved TikToks

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[gyusrose]

➵ smarty -> c.s

⚠︎ fluff ? angst? little bit of both

✎ high-school au! academic rivals to lovers

summary: Soobin and you have been at each other’s throats since forever. being the two most smart students in the school brings out the competitive side within the two of you and maybe… hidden feelings?

soobin x fem. reader

wc: 3.9k

you bounced your leg nervously as the teacher passed out the exam you took last week. you’ve studied your ass off for it, so if you get anything less than an A, you’ll be fuming.

your heart started beating rapidly as she got closer to your seat.

“good job Soobin, the highest score in the class.” she said handing it to him.

the highest score?

that means…

“so close _______, almost a perfect score.” she said handing you the mediocre paper.

97%

you peaked to see Soobin’s score, reading 100%

“how’s that possible? that’s not how the grading scale goes.” you asked evidently confused.

“you forgot the date sweetheart.” she softly said, making you almost burst right on the spot.

you’ve missed the fucking date?

you wanted to slap her after she said those words.

‘can’t she just check the fucking calendar for fucks sake?’ you whispered silently to yourself.

you the heard a chuckle from in front of you.

the ‘Mr. perfect score’ turned to look at you teasingly.

“must suck _______, it’s always something isn’t it?”

“oh shut up, you’re not smarter since i didn’t get a question wrong so lower your damn ego.”

“sureeee…don’t be surprised when i’m the one that gets into Yale and not you.” he said before turning back into his seat.

that fucking asshole. it’s not fair, he probably doesn’t even work as hard as you, pulling all nighters before an exam, wether it’s worth 5% or 50%.

the bell finally rang and you were the first one up your seat on your way to lunch.

sitting down in the patio of the school under a tree, you took out your notebook and laptop.

every spare time was an academic advantage for you, you didn’t waste in friends, too focused on your grades , you never bothered making them, even less on a boyfriend.

you could care less what people thought of you, a bitch, stuck-up, a know-it-all, whatever.

you simply care about your future.

and no, you weren’t forced by your parents or anything, since you only had your mom ( since your dad was unknown to you) she never forced you into being a ‘star student’ she was pretty chilled back and was pleased as long as you weren’t failing.

you were just immensely smart, and competing with Soobin drew you in even more.

talking about Soobin…

a soccer ball threw down your hydro flask making you snap your head up, knowing exactly who it was.

“ayo, pass the ball!” Soobin said smirking.

to make it even worse, Soobin was the soccer team’s captain, of fucking course.

you ignored him and went back to your laptop, putting your headphones back on.

you could feel him coming your way. he tapped your head for which you annoyingly looked up at him.

“the ball.”

“get it yourself, you threw it.”

“still annoyed at that 97% ?” he chuckled.

you didn’t respond making Soobin unknowingly angry. the one thing he hated the most was being ignored, specially by you.

“you know , you should join a sport, universities like that.” he said knowing this would grab your attention.

“ew no, sports are gross so i don’t do them. i prefer killing myself doing every academically possible than that.”

Soobin chuckled in disbelief. god you’re impossible.

unlike you, Soobin was an extrovert to the maximum. he was extremely popular, threw parties all the time and had fun, yet he was somehow just as smart as you were.

he didn’t seem to put too much work into studying either, he just had a picturesque memory.

“do you realize that schools want a personality? you getting perfect grades in classes isn’t enough.”

“i do a hell of a lot of volunteering and got a internship these past two summers.”

“you know what’s cooler though? being captain of the soccer team.” he threw a laugh but you remained expressionless.

he loved to annoy you, he loved the fact that you wouldn’t pay attention to anyone else but him.

truth be told, he had the fattest crush on you. ever since freshman year when this whole competition started. you were easily the prettiest girl on campus. the only way to get your attention was to challenge you and drive you insane he guessed.

sure you knew you were pretty since you get asked out by multiple guys every year, by that didn’t get to you. who cares if you’re pretty if you fail your finals? (gilmore girls who?)

this may sound cheesy but there was truly no girl like you. you were independent and committed, and that was hard to find.

thankfully he left grabbing the ball and kicking it to his friends who were waiting for it.

you rolled your eyes going back to what you were doing.

meanwhile as Soobin went back to his friends..

“bro when are you going to finally tell her?” Taehyun asked the taller boy.

“never, she’ll never know.”

“but what if she also likes you back and you’re just overthinking it? you’re gonna let that opportunity go to waste?” another one of his friend, Yeonjun said.

“will you guys stop? i’m not going to embarrass myself like that.”

>>

“yes mom, i’ll be back by 5.” you said before heading outside to your car.

you just found this volunteering opportunity nearby, at a church. pretty much just helping around which is great for you because this will only add to the great amount of volunteer hours you already had.

you obviously didn’t only do it for the hours, you liked helping around, you’ve been at hospitals, food banks etc.

as you got there you introduced yourself to the employees and they gave you something to do immediately.

as you were helping picking the trash from outside, you heard that annoying deep voice that could only belong to one person and one person only.

“thank you, i’ll start right now” Soobin said grabbing one of the trash bags and heading outside.

he saw another figure which was already looking at his direction.

isn’t this fun?

Soobin didn’t mind it, at all. but he could tell you did.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you?” she said in between her gritted teeth.

“aw c’mon it’s not that bad! i know you secretly enjoy.” he does, that’s for sure.

“you wish, i’d rather be alone.”

“let’s try to get along, for once?”

“or….you know what? you could just not talk to me. problem solved!” she said smiling at her own response.

“nah that’d be too boring, you’re fun to annoy.”

“just pick the damn trash up.”

Soobin, not wanting to start you up, for once obeyed and started picking up alongside of you.

suddenly a young woman came up to the both of you, asking you if you’re willing to look over the little kids in the daycare served inside the church for a couple of minutes.

“the two of us?” Soobin asked.

the lady nodded in desperation.

both Soobin and yourself looked at each other thinking if you’re going to be able to handle each other’s presence.

“sure we’ll do it.” you said without having confirmation from Soobin.

it’s only a couple of minutes right? besides it seems like an easy job.

oh how wrong you were…

when you thought kids, you didn’t think they would be acting like literal toddlers. they looked old enough to know what they’re doing, so why are they acting like two-year-olds?

they were running, screaming, fighting, throwing stuff. whoever does this job regularly doesn’t get paid enough.

Soobin and you were trying all you can to ‘calm them down’ as much as possible.

“Soobin they’re crying.”

“_______ they’re fighting.”

“Soobin they’re running.”

“_______ they’re hungry.”

the both of you almost forgot about the fact that y’all were at each other’s throats in the beginning.

the lady that initially told us it was only going to be a ‘couple of minutes’ has already been gone for half an hour.

“_______! i found the solution to this.” Soobin

you snapped your head at his direction, desperate to find one .

“Look.” he pointed at the small group of toddlers sitting in front of him while he held a book reading it. they seemed the calmest one could get.

how on earth did Choi Soobin find a solution faster than you?

you mama he to gather the rest of the kids towards the small group turning it into a whole group reading .

you started in awe, as Soobin softly read the book. his voice, was….calming? you never noticed til’ now.

for once you were admiring him.

“_______, you wanna read now?”

you thoughts snapped out of you and grabbed the book and read a few pages as well.

Soobin would never say this out loud but god how smitten you had him. he kept thinking about his friend’s remarks .

should he confess to you?

i mean y’all were seniors already, technically the last chance to do it.

but the thought of rejection blew it. he knew you were aggressively and bluntly honest, it scared him thinking about what your response could be.

“i’m back! sorry for the long wait, you guys can go now.” the lady that left you here with the mini monsters came back making you sigh in relief.

you didn’t even respond and headed out. although you initially wanted to stay the whole day, the kids sucked the energy out of you, now all you wanted to do was to go home.

“_______!” lord.

“why are you going in such a hurry, i’d thought you’d want to stay longer and help?” Soobin said catching up to you.

“well i’m not, i just want to go home, that’s it.”

before you could go he spoke once again.

“you want to catch some lunch? my treat.”

“please Soobin, just let me go home, my bed is waiting.”

Soobin watched as you walked away from him. sometimes it occurred to him that you were just cold-blooded or something.

>>

“HA! look at my perfect 100% compared to your lame 95%” you said almost shoving your paper down Soobin’s face.

he rolled you eyes at your words. “you just got lucky, i don’t care.”

he did.

this was very much intentional. he purposefully got a question wrong, hoping the fact that you got a higher grade than him would lighten your mood and drag you out of your sulkiness.

“aw, don’t get a grumpy Binnie, you’ll get there.” you said getting dangerously close to his face making Soobin panic.

you had no idea of your impact as you happily grabbed your backpack and exit the classroom.

Soobin let out the breath he’s been holding in as you walked out.

his heart rate was going crazy.

once he calmed down, he got up from his seat but was soon stopped by his teacher.

“Soobin’ may i have a word with you?”

shit. what did he do?

Soobin stood in front of him as he grabbed the test from his hands, showing him the problem he got ‘wrong’.

“you know i’m curious, how come you got this problem wrong when we learned it in the first unit and is by far the easiest one here? what’s weirder is that all your work is right and only the answer is wrong..”

caught. what does he respond to that?

“erm… i just forgot to find the final answer and guessed..”

“really? you’ve always aced this class, it surprised me, is it something to do with ________?”

HOW DID HE GET TO THAT CONCLUSION SO FAST? WAS HE THAT OBVIOUS?

“NO! i mean, no why would you think that?” he tried his best to deny it, although we all know..

“you’re always making her be second best in class and suddenly you get a question ‘wrong’ which you could do with you eyes closed and now she’s first.”

he should’ve just left the question blank.

“professor trust me, she’s the last reason regarding my performance.”

>>

meanwhile, you were in your monthly meeting with your college counselor.

you’ve already done your whole application for Yale done, you just had to check in to get your counselor’s blessing to send it.

“very very well _______, you took my corrections and applied them flawlessly, i truly believe you have a really big shot at this.” she told you making you squeal in excitement.

since you’re going for early decision, it urged you to send it right away.

“thank you so much! i spent most of my nights trying to perfect it, oh and by the way, do you know if Choi Soobin has already submitted his application?” you knew it was some sort of invasion of privacy but you were curious.

“i don’t believe so, many student do regular decision so you’re one of the first.”

“guess who just sent their application to Yale?” you said as you approached Soobin.

you would most definitely never do this but the anticipation to make him feel less than drew you in.

“you did?! someone’s eager i see.”

“when are you doing it?”

“my appointment with my counselor is tomorrow, so i guess that’s when.”

Soobin loved seeing you so ‘uplifted’ he tried as hard as he could to not stare at your stunning eyes, he could tell how much this meant to you.

“i might go to your room at night and delete your whole essay so you can’t apply haha.” she said before walking away.

‘shit’ he thought to himself, he shouldn’t feel this much affection towards you, knowing you probably don’t like him back, he’s trying to let his little crush go, but how can he when you’re everywhere, impossible to not think about.

>>

december came in a blink, and the early decisions are coming out tomorrow , although you were confident in yourself, a part of you was still in doubt. with Soobin applying as well, he could easily take your spot knowing how selective the university was.

you were walking to a meeting you had with a teacher while Soobin was preparing for the last game of the season.

running onto the field while the rest of the team trailed behind him. the audience was packed as usual. he looked around seeing if you were around.

and as always, no sight of you. he’s not surprised but he did want at least for you to come at the last game , but knowing you that’s asking for snow in a desert.

gosh why was he even worrying about it? you guys are barely even considering ‘friends’ why would you be here. he was thinking so much about it that he didn’t even notice the game starting as he saw the ball pass right through him, earning a scream from his coach.

Soobin was clearly bothered. he was playing differently than how he usually does and everyone on the field noticed it. he was aggressive for the first time in his life, shoving pushing and doing intentional fouls.

it went down when an opposing player took it very personal. Soobin caused him to trip and fall to his face, making the other player mad as hell and shoved him harshly earning a harder shove from Soobin, soon a big fight started on the field causing both Soobin and the other player get a red card.

Soobin was livid. as soon as he left the field he looking for the player and started throwing punches.

it wasn’t until the coaches came over and separated the two.

“SOOBIN ARE YOU INSANE WHATS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Soobin didn’t respond, he just shook the coach’s hands off him and walked away from the scene.

he wasn’t looking at where he was going, all he wanted was to get away from everyone .

that was until…

“the hell is- SOOBIN?” of course it’s you.

Soobin tried to hide his bloody nose but failed miserably as you already saw it all.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WHO DID THAT TO YOU?” you couldn’t believe it, Soobin? in a fight? he was a lot of things but violent wasn’t one of them.

“just leave me alone.”

“no! come one let me clean you up, those cuts could get infected!”

you grabbed his hand and led him to the nurse’s office, since it was after school, no one was there.

you quickly found a first aid kit as Soobin sat down with his head down, not wanting to look at you in the eyes.

“don’t put your head down, that’ll make more blood come out.” you said grabbing his chin, lifting his head up.

even in the state he was in right now, he still felt his heart almost explode at your touch.

“now can you tell me what happened ?”

“i guess i was just very overwhelmed and started to play dirty and got what i deserved.”

you frowned, wasn’t this his last game? how could he throw it away like that?

“what was making you act like that?”

Soobin hesitated, he couldn’t just say ‘you’ even though that was the clear answer.

“just school and college decisions i guess” you frowned once again, Soobin never was the one to ‘stress’ about school like that, he was smart, specially to the point where it affects his performance on the field.

he could feel you don’t believe him, but what else can he say?

you kept cleaning up his wounds and put a cute little bandaid over them.

“there, we’re done.”

you said putting away the first aid kit.

“thank you _______, i really appreciate it.” he said grabbing your wrists and turning you to him.

you two were now dangerously close.

and for the first time, you couldn’t speak. like words were caught in your throat at the closeness of his face.

you both stared at each other with out anyone saying a word. Soobin leaned closer and closer, to the point where you could feel his breath.

just as you were about to kiss, you snapped out of it. moving away completely.

“erm..i uh have to leave.” you quickly said before grabbing your bag and leaving.

Soobin sat there, frozen. what did he just do?

he fucked up.

>>

you laid in you bed, the scene replaying in your head. why did you actually want the kiss him? why did you secretly hope that he would’ve just smothered you into a kiss?

urghh, you were conflicted. you’ve never felt like this, literally.

no guy has made you speechless like he did. and you hated it, how could you fall for him?

no you didn’t, you’re not falling for him. it was just in the moment, yeah that’s it.

you knew it wasn’t. completely forgetting how your future’s revealed tomorrow.

>>

shitshitshitshit

one click and you’ll know. your heart is almost beating out of your chest. your confidence nowhere to be found.

‘relax, if i don’t get in, there’s still other options.’

you swallowed your breath and hit refresh.

you slowly opened your eyes and read the first sentence.

Dear ______,

Welcome to Yale University…

YOU GOT IN!!!!

“I GOT IN” you screamed in enthusiasm making the whole cafeteria look at you in confusion.

you ran out of there and into your counselors office.

“I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN!!!!”

“congratulations sweetheart i knew you could do it!” she said engulfing you into a hug.

trying to catch your breath for a couple of minutes you sat in her office talking about it. you texted your mom earning another congratulations from her as well.

there was another person you wanted to tell, but you didn’t have the balls to.

wait? he didn’t get in or did he? they would accept the both of us, specially in early decision. but how? he’s literally the ‘it’ student.

“do you um.. know if Soobin got in by any chance? we’re the only two applying early…”

the counselor looked at you in confusion.

“i’m sorry, but i can’t display that type of information since it’s personal.”

shit now you have to ask him yourself.

you looked for hi everywhere, until finally founding him in a bench near the tree he once threw a ball at you.

you took a deep sigh and tapped his shoulders.

he looked up and widened his eyes.

he wasn’t expecting you to come up to him, not at all.

“hey um, have you checked the ivy decisions? how did it go?” this was the nicest you’ve ever been to him, stunning the both of you.

“well…i’m actually..i got a scholarship..to Princeton.” he calmly said making you eyes widened.

of course he did, if anyone did it would be him.

“holy shit that amazing! i got into Yale as well, so good for the both of us!” you couldn’t believe you’ve beat him.

in reality Soobin didn’t even apply to Yale, he knew how much of dream it was to go there and he realized that he was going to apply, your chances would’ve slimmed so he didn’t. it wasn’t like it was his dream school anyway, he only said it to have something to talk to you about, something in common.

“still beat you though.” you teased trying to forget whatever happened yesterday .

“i actually didn’t even apply to be honest.” your looked at him flabbergasted. he didn’t? isn’t that what we’ve been fighting for years?

“wait what ?why?”

“you dreamed of going to Yale and me applying would just add more competition, so i didn’t and now you’re going.”

you couldn’t believe it. he did that for you?

“thank you Soobin, for not taking my place.” you softly laughed as well as he.

you don’t know what came over you, but your emotions were all over the place and this just did enough of it.

you kissed him. yes, you kissed Soobin.

you grabbed his face connecting both of your lips.

Soobin was confused, very shocked, but easily gave in.

he’s been dreaming of this for years, it’s finally coming true. his whole mood changed in a split second.

soon you hands were now on his neck while his at you waist. forgetting the fact that y’all were in public, it kept going as he depend the kiss driving you harder.

soon to the cause of oxygen, you pulled away.

you looked at each other in pure bliss. you saw different now, before he was an annoying prick, menace to society and now he was a gorgeous man that made your legs weak.

“______, i know this could be too soon but fuck it, it’s my last chance, would you maybe want to be mine? like my girlfriend?” he nervously said, even though y’all just had a full make out session, he wanted to make sure you felt what he did too.

“are you kidding? of course Soobin, i’d love to be yours.” you said giving him a peck, showing his bunny smile making you melt.

“i see i’m going to be making many trips to Connecticut and you to New Jersey now.”

[poraphia]

Halloooo ^^ ..

I read a lot of ur stories and now Im in love with fictions :3 (might need therapy cuz of it but nvm that)

U an amazing writer <3

(Im pretty new to Tumblr so extremely sorry if this ends up where it shouldnt be or smth like that lol)

But anywaaay , Can I pls request a Wilbur Soot angst fic :D ?

Im going thru THAT phase rn so anything would be awsome really ..

Maybe a fight (unintentionally) breaks out between Wilby and reader and Wilby accidentally raises his voice and reader gets scared ? I know its a cheesy story and people might'a written before but I barely find Wilbur angst fics anymore :(((

Anyway , Thank u so much .. U dont have to write any of this if ur uncomfortable .. Hope ur doing okay :> .. Take care n' bye :D

"You’re Being Too Loud."

➵ PAIRING! cc!stressed!wilbur x stressed!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.12.23 | 1444 words

➵ CONTAINING! angst to comfort, wilbur is ignoring reader, reader lowkey has attachment issues, reader sensitive to loud noises, wilbs is overworked

➵ SAYING! hiii @toastyliltoasts41 welcome to tumblr! sorry for the late late response but i hope you enjoy :) personally going thru this myself especially w so much work ive been doing recently and also im noise sensitive (literally walk around with noise canceling headphones all the time). thank u for all the nice words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I slipped off my shoes and placed them near the doorstep. My socks glided against the furnished planks as I slid to our shared office. I dragged my backpack behind me, feeling the weight of my laptop, notebooks, and textbooks. Once I made it to the room, I placed my bag on the chair and unpacked all my belongings onto my desk.

Today was too exhausting, and the one thing I dreaded doing right now was to open my laptop and be faced with more work. Instead of taking my laptop with me, I grabbed my phone and dragged myself out of the office and into the bedroom.

After changing into my loungewear, I snuggled myself into silk sheets, shivering a little from the cold fabric wrapping around my body. Ignoring the chill, I held up my phone with both of my hands and swiped open the messaging app to text my boyfriend. I glanced at the past messages, realizing that Wil hasn’t responded to any of my messages from this afternoon. The last time he texted was this morning when was telling me what time he would come home. Sighing, I typed in another message in hopes that this time he would respond.

“Hey, I’m home now. Too tired to cook food today. Let’s order something when you get home? <3”

I clicked send before clicking off my phone and placing it on the nightstand. My eyes fluttered close, and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of footsteps clicking against the ground. With my hands I pushed my body up to examine the noise. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure headed toward the office. A small smile formed on my face as I carefully got out of bed.

My bare freet pressed against the cream colored carpet. I wandered around the hallway before finding the office door slightly ajar. Through the crack I saw Wil hunched over his computer. His sweater’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his fingers hastily clicked against his keyboard. Quietly, I approached him from behind, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.

Wil quietly hummed in response. I titled my head, pecking his cheek, but he didn’t react and instead his eyes stayed glue to his screen. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, but nonetheless, I continued hugging him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I mumbled in a croaky voice.

“Hey,” he replied blankly.

“Did you see my texts earlier today?”

“Uh huh,” He said absently. “I saw the message after I ate though. Sorry.”

I felt my chest tighten a little, hurting at his absence. All I wanted in the moment was a hug and a conversation about each other’s day, but instead, he was absorbed in his work and couldn’t even make the effort to look at me.

“Wil, can we talk?” I asked.

He slightly shook his head. “No, not right now, honey. This video has to be out by tomorrow and one of our editors hasn’t been feeling well so I took up the work.” He explained briefly.

“But you’re already busy working at the studio…” I mumbled.

“I know, but I can finish this up by tonight. Just give me some time, please.” He requested. My heart skipped a little, feeling like a dog that had been put aside for a brand new puppy.

“Wil, you haven’t talked to me all day. Could we at least just have dinner together?” I nearly pleaded.

“I already said I just ate, (y/n).” Wil said rather sternly. “Please can I just finish my work?”

“But I want to spend time with you.” I said, speaking up a little bit. I unwrapped my hands away from him and stepped back a little. He turned his chair a little to face me with one of his hands still on the keyboard. He looked up at me, a stressed but furrowed expression on his face. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my own chest.

“I want to spend time with you but you’re basically prioritizing this work over me.” I said again. “I understand that sometimes you have too much work. I understand that. But we haven’t been spending time with each other for the past few days and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to relax with you, Wil.” I bit the insides of my cheek. Wil, in turn, sighed and rubbed his nosebridge.

“I’m not prioritizing work over you, (y/n), I’ve just been busy lately and this argument is just stressing me out even more.” His words were spat out like venom.

“Which is why I’m asking that we just spend time together! This isn’t just for me, but it’s for you too.” I threw my hands up, frustrated. “Wilbur, we can relax together! You’re acting like this isn’t stressing me out either!”

Wil got up from his seat now. His tall figure nearly towered over me, making me slightly cower. “I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING RELAX RIGHT NOW, (Y/N)! I HAVE SHIT TO DO!”

I stepped back, nearly stumbling. Without realizing, tears were running down my burning hot cheeks. The air went cold and I felt this hallowing emptiness surrounding me. A ringing was bouncing in my eardrums and goosebumps ran through my arms and legs. He looked down at me, eyes wide as if he just realized what words escaped his lips. Before he could say a word, I walked out of the office and back into bed, slamming the door behind me.

I jumped into the mattress and buried my face deep under the sheets. I quietly sobbed into the fabric, not caring for the tears darkening the silk. It didn’t take but a couple minutes later to hear the creaking of the door and soft footsteps approaching the bed. I lied still under the covers as I felt the mattress dip from a newfound weight.

Wil sat there for a while. His knee shook a little, making a tiny thumping noise against the floor. I was turned away from him with his lower back lightly pressing against the heel of my foot.

“(y/n)..?” He softly called out for me. “Are you awake..?”

I shifted a little, moving my foot away from him to let him know I was listening. He sighed with his leg coming to a stop.

“(y/n), I’m sorry. I—I’ve just been really stressed, but that gives me no right to start yelling at you. And me being really busy has been taking away the time with you.” He paused a little bit, presumably licking his lips. I still didn’t have the courage to move. Instead I laid still, not daring to move. “I’m really sorry, (y/n).” He apologized again.

A deep sigh huffed from my nostrils before I sat up, letting the sheets cascade off my body. He turned his head to look at me, his feet still planted on the ground. I looked into his eyes, seeing the pained looked deep in those irises.

“Y-You know I don’t like loud noises.” I croaked out, my voice cracking with my words. He slowly nodded, bringing his legs up on the bed to fully face me. “And I really don’t like it when you yell. Please, I really just wanted to spend time together.”

“And we will spend time together.” He grabbed my hands and cradled them in his. “I’ll message Elodie right now if she could finish the work. But right now, it’s going to be me and you together, okay? We can maybe catch up on our show and I’ll order some food for you, okay?” He reassured, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. “Maybe I’ll steal some fries from you every once in a while.”

I giggled a little. “Noooo! Get your own food!” I whined, lightly pushing his shoulder. He chuckled in response before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso in response, breathing in his scent.

“I just missed you, Wil, you know that…” I softly whispered. He nodded, running his fingers through my hair.

“I missed you too. I promise I do.” He whispered back. His voice was low and deep but he made sure to maintain his volume. It was soothing, something I could fall asleep to,

and most importantly,

it wasn’t loud.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ hope you enjoyeddd notes of all kind are super duper appreciated! if you wanna be in a taglist or an anon my inbox is always freee :D ALSO SURPRISE!! TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY I AM ON A ROLLLL

[afictionalwhor3]

Found Family

a/n: I know this isn't hotd related but I've had this idea since finals started and had to get it out of my head.

Summary: Maybe you and Peter can help each other heal

Warnings: domestic abuse, suggested sa (not described), past trauma, suggested eating disorder, angst

Word Count: 3.9k

Post No Way Home Peter Parker x Reader

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit at this table with you? I'll sit at the other end and I promise I won't bother you," You ask gently. Peter looks at you taking one of his headphones out and nodding his head.

"Oh uh yeah go ahead. No problem" He says smiling politely and you nod appreciatively. You sit down at the other end of the medium-sized wood table. You proceed to place your bookbag next to you while taking out your notebook and laptop. Peter takes one more quick glance at you before going back to the work in front of him.  

After Peter passed his GED test, he decided to start taking college classes. It was nothing crazy, a couple classes, a few credits, but he knew he owed it to everyone no longer here to pursue a college degree. The workload allowed him plenty of time to be Spiderman while giving him some semblance of what a normal life feels like again. Which was one of the reasons he came to the library. The apartment was often too quiet. Not for the lack of his neighbors trying. The people down the hall had an affinity for rock music, and the people above him… they liked to get it on you could say. He could block that sound out, but when he looked around his apartment it was a painful reminder of how alone he was. The few pictures he found of himself with May, MJ, and Ned he got framed and lived on his dresser. They brought him both pain and happiness every time his eyes landed on them. Peter loved them all as much as person could love someone else, but they were also a painful indicator of a life lost. The library was quiet, but the people that came in and out constantly alleviated a little of that lonely feeling. And the table he was currenly at had become his favorite. Peter did not have much these days so a table had become his favorite. The light directly above was bright, but not blinding compared to the naturally low lighting in the building. It was right next to a window with a beautiful view of outside, and he could see a good amount of entrances and exits.  

These were all the same reasons you loved this table. You had sat at others before and found you could not be as productive at those. You understood how odd it was to ask to share a table with someone when there were at least fifty free tables on this floor alone. But, you had a paper due in afew hours and you needed to be your most productive self. You too were taking classes at university and appreciated the quiet calm of the library. Life back where you were from was anything but stable, so the places you found serenity in you tended to cling tightly too. 

You and Peter went about your lives like this for a few months. You didn’t always run into each other, but when you did it was nothing more than a tight-lipped, polite smile before you both went back to whatever you were working on. You both were nothing more than a blip on each other’s radar. Peter began to pay closer attention to you when one day his gaze drifted to you while you were deep in thought as you wrote furiously in your notebook. It was December in New York so naturally the heat in the library was blasting making it hotter than usual. With the sleeves of your sweater pushed up he noticed bruising on your forearms. He didn’t think too much about it, choosing instead to mind his business. For the next couple of weeks there were no more signs of bruising so he figured you must of got in an accident of some sorts. 

But then the next time he saw you there were some serious bruises around your neck and collarbone. He brushed it off as being nothing more than a few extreme love bites not wnating to get involved in anything that didn’t concern him. He told himself he would focus on classes and being Spiderman, not getting distracted by anything else. However, he knew he had to do something when the next time he saw you there was bruising around your eye. He could tell you attempted to cover it with makeup, but he knew more than anyone what a bruise looked like. Peter knew he needed to do something, but he couldn’t exactly Spiderman his way into this situation. Obviously something was going on, but Peter had no idea how to approach this. He could web sling and fight bad guys all day, but helping someone as Peter? He didn’t know it that was possible. While he thought over a plan your bruises only got worse. You would slip up and scratch your arm or adjust your collar and he saw them, bright as day from his perspective. God only knew how many more you had that he couldn’t see. It was breaking his heart and he knew he had do something sooner rather than later. If everything he had to do wasn’t hard enough, you were running into each other significantly less. 

A month since he first picked up on what was going on, Peter saw you again. This time when you sat down Peter took out his headphones. You were immediately concerned thinking he was going to change his mind when he extended an outstretched hand towards you,

“I’m Peter,” He said with a genuine smile. You looked at him suspiciously before putting your hand in his. 

“Y/N, nice to meet you,” You say shaking his hand pulling away after a few seconds. You both could feel the awkward tension growing between you before Peter broke the silence, 

“Sorry I don’t mean to disturb you I just realized we’ve been sitting together all these months and I didn’t even know your name,” He says chuckling a little which makes you smile. 

“Oh yeah, I guess that is kind of nuts. Well nice to meet you Peter, and thank you for letting me sit here. This is gonna sound odd but this is my favorite table,” You say and Peter’s smile gets bigger. 

“Mine too! I-” He starts before getting a few shushes at how loud he got “Sorry. I like it too because I can see all entrances and exits and the view is so nice.” He says and you nod your head quickly in agreeance. 

“Wow- I actually feel the same way,” you say shocked you both were the same type of weird. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work. But it was great to finally get your name,” He says as you nod. 

“You as well,” You say opening your laptop and putting your headphones in. That was the last time Peter saw you. 

~2 months later~

It was the middle of March as Peter stood at the top of building looking over the city. Winter refused to let New York out of its crushing grip, a cold chill remaining in the air. Peter replayed that day between you a million times over in his head. He didn’t ask about the bruises he saw because maybe at that time you just needed a friend. He could build your trust and maybe you’d come to him about what was happening. But he never saw you again. The next two weeks he went to the library everyday for hours on end hoping to see you, but you never came. He only hoped that you were out there somewhere okay. You would live in conscious for a very long time. A symbol of one of his many regrets. He takes a deep breath before free falling off the building catching himself with his web as he begins his nightly patrol. 

Moving around steahily his enhanced hearing picked up yelling, there was always yelling in New York. Ready to continue his patrol and not think twice about until he heard “God damnit Y/n!”. There was a million and one chance someone else had your name, but he had to go check. 

“I’m so sorry Jack I promise I’m trying to be better” You plead before feeling a burning sting to your cheek. Before you had a chance to process that the punch to your gut sent you reeling into the glass coffee table. The air left your lungs as you landed feeling the now broken glass did into you . 

“You stupid bitch. I go out there and bust my balls and come home to bullshit every night. The place is a fucking mess,” kick “your food sucks,” kick “And I swear every time I come back your fatter” another kick. There was no point in fighting the tears that streamed down your face. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the pain was because everything hurt. Every kick hit a place that was already bruised already elevating the pain. 

This latest fight had been going on for an hour since he got home. You’ve been in this situation for four months. As pathetic as it sounded, he was all you had. You began dating at the beginning of the semester. You moved across the country for school, but you werne’t leaving much behind. You didn’t have any friends, no family. You ran into Jack one day in the street. He bumped into you and made you spill coffee all over yourself. He apologized so sincerely, and offered to buy you a new one to make it up. When it came to sweeping you off your feet he did everything right. Romantic dates, the perfect gentleman, devilishly attractive. You began dating and moved in with him quickly because his apartment was nicer than the dump you lived in. That was when he first started hitting you. 

It didn’t happen often at first. Maybe if you raised your voice or forgot to pick up something. But he always promised it was the last time. He cried and apologized and begged you to forgive him and you always did. Because in truth, you needed him a lot more than he needed you. Then as time went on everything you did was not good enough in his eye. You didn’t clean well enough, you were too big, even the way you breathed. The first time he broke your rib he told you it was because you were breathing too heavy after going out on a walk together and he’d give you a real reason to have trouble breathing. You had lost about thirty pounds in the last few months both from him restricting your food and yourself.

The library was the last safe space you had. That day Peter talked to you, oh Peter you missed him so much. That day he talked to you, it felt so good to talk to another human being. He seemed nice and genuinely interested in possibly being your friend? You were sitting with each other for so long it would make sense. But you didn’t know Jack followed you to the library that day becoming suspicious of how much time you spent there. When you got back he was furious assuming you were cheating on him. He didn’t give you time to explain yourself and got right to hitting you as soon as you closed the door. You blacked out that night waking up on the floor by the door. 

The rational part of your brain knew you deserved more than this. You didn’t have or deserve to be treated like this. But what if what he said was true? What if you really were unlovable? Beyond fixing? Maybe he really was your best option. Or what if he went back to the way he first was? Loving and attentive, but would all this pain be worth it. When Peter first talked to you you thought about telling him everything. Which is a terrible weight to dump on a stranger, and he seemed so nice. Kind in a way you haven’t experienced in a long time. You decided quickly this was not his problem, there was no reason to burden his life as well. After that incident Jack told you if you ever told anyone he would kill you first and then them. You didn’t want to put Peter in harm’s way which is why you stopped going to the library all together. You thought about him often, and hoped he was out there somewhere doing better than you. 

“I’m sorry Jack. Please just give me another chance. I can be better. I’ll do better for you,” You whimper your body trembling in fear. The anticipation of what he was going to do to you was almost worse than the abuse. When he got like this he was entirely unpredictable which was an entirely different monster. 

“No you dumb bitch.” He says taking his belt off and getting on the ground “You never fucking learn and you never will huh? Well since I can’t teach you I will just have to make sure you never fuck up again,” He says as you start immediately shaking your head and fighting back. He manuevers around your flailing legs and arms landing a few blows to your side and one to your head leaving you defenseless before wrapping his hands around your throat. You shake your head and scratch at his hands trying to get him to stop. You begged and pleaded to any god that existed to help. You weren’t ready to go, you knew you weren’t. Just as your vision started to go black you felt the pressure go away and watching through one good eye as Jack was thrown against a wall. Was that Spiderman? That cannot be right, but it was becoming hard to stay awake. The last thing you remember is a voice talking to you and them promising to call 911.  

7 days later…

You wake up to the sound of rustling beside you. It is a struggle to move your neck to the side to see who is beside you. God, it feels like you got hit by a train repeatedly. There is a nice looking older woman writing on some papers. She has on purple scrubs with lollipops on them. You try to take in your surrounings. The nurse, flourscent lighting, sterile smell the air, you had to be in the hospital. Or this was your sick version of the after life. “Good morning hun. It is nice to see you are awake. I’ll make sure to let the doctor know and as soon as she gets the chance she will come explain everything to you okay?” She says in a gentle voice and you do your best to nod in understanding. “Now that you are awake I’ll come back later with a lunch and dinner form for you, but if you need anything sooner hit that button by your left hand and I’ll be here,” She says as you move your hand around and feel the button nodding your head again. She smiles at you sadly before leaving the room. You listen to the monitor beat systemically as you look at the ceiling. Your head is pounding and it hurts to breathe but you are pretty sure you are alive. Your eye isn’t swollen anymore because you can see out of both of them. 

The rest of the day consists with a variety of people entering and exiting your room. The doctor comes in and explains they put you in a medically induced coma hoping to stop anymore trauma to your brain, get fluids in you because you were extremely malnourished, and hopefully give your body stress free time to heal. Three broken ribs, a broken orbital bone, multiple severe contusions, glass removal and stitches, and a moderate concussion. You would be in here for at least a couple more days so they could monitor you and make sure you were healing properly and there were no complications. After the doctor it was the cops. They were doing a full reprt on Jack. You were scared at first, he promised to kill you if you ever told anyone. What if he kept up his end of the promise. You told the police that and they promised they would protect you and your testimony would put him away for a long time. Turns out you weren’t the first woman he has done this too. Optimistic, you told the officers everything. Relieved all the painful details if it meant you could put that monster away and put an end to this horrible nightmare. Then it was the psychiatrist. She had to make sure you didn’t need to be put on suicide watch and assess your mental state after everything you went through. You couldn’t get a read on what she was writing but you didn’t get moved to a padded room or handcuffed to the bed so you assumed you were in the clear for now. Your guiding light in all of this was your sweet nurse. Her name is Rose, and she has been beyond kind to you since you opened your eyes. 

The next morning, Rose is once again the first person you see. She is bringing your food to you and helping you get comfortable. “Rose I don’t think this is your job,” You say smiling appreciatively at her. 

“Well I won’t tell if you don’t” She says making you smile. You felt much better today. Your pain meds got adjusted now that you were awake making everything more bearable. Knowing you gave the cops your statement and there’s a chance Jack will never see the light of day again was something to look forward to. You had to believe the justice system would do the right thing, but hope was powerful and you chose to believe in it for the time being. 

While eating your applesauce you notice someone approaching and sighed wondering who could possibly need to speak to you now. You look over and see Peter walk through the door, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. He waves awkwardly and for the first time in weeks you smile. “I would wave back but it hurts to do anything more than lift my spoon to my mouth” You say and he smiles. He walks over and places the flowers on your bedside table. 

“How do you feel?” He asks and you lean back looking at him

“Oh you know. Feels like I got hit by a truck, everything hurts, but I guess I’m luck to be alive right? The doctors and nurses here are really good so today is better than yesterday. I’m pretty sure I owe my life to Spiderman? I’m not sure if I was halucinating or not but I owe someone my life.” You say trying your best to retrieve the memory but those moments before you passed our are all a blur.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Peter asks as you shake your head and he pulls a chair over. 

“Do you mind if I ask how did you know I was here? Or what happned to me?” You ask as Peter scratches at the back of his neck thinking of an explanation.

“I um volunteer at the hospital. I heard some nurses talk about you and what happened. I saw the cops come in and figured out where your room was. I didn’t wanna come empty handed so I came back today. I’m glad you’re okay though, I missed my table buddy,” He says looking at you as you laugh softly then start to cough. Peter looks concerned but you nod your head. 

“It’s okay I’m all good. The broken ribs make it hard to breathe and it hurts to laugh” you respond looking at him as he nods in seeming understanding. You brush that off adding, “I appreciate you coming here Peter. It means a lot to me.” you say as he nods and you feel the awkward tension begin to build between you. This time it is your turn to break the void, “I don’t- I don’t have any family. I don’t have anyone. I haven’t in a long time.” You say your voice cracking as he looks back at you. Not sadly, but in understanding. 

“Y/n you don’t have to-” He starts but you shake your head. 

“No no it’s fine. I know I don’t know you that well but between you and my nurse, you are one of the kindest people I’ve met. You barely know me and still came to check on me,” you say. Maybe it was the drugs in your system but they had you becoming extremely loose lipped. 

“My dad died when I was 10, my mom turned into an alcoholic after. Even before then she wasn’t much of a mother. She abused me, sometimes physically, but mostly verbal. The drinking caused her to lose her job. We mostly slept in her car, or a home if they let us in. We begged for money or meals and even then she would usually use me to get more and then keep it for herself. When I was sixteen I ran away. Slept on benches, couches, wherever I could. Made it the best I could on my own. When I got a scholarship to come here I knew I had to take it. I thought coming here would be my fresh start. I’d be free of that alone feeling that’s clung to me like a cancer and I could get a frest start. Leave my past behind me. Looks like I just traded one nightmare for another.” You say tears running down your face as you try to wipe them away “But Peter, I want you to know that the little bit of kindness you have showed me has been paramount. It has made a difference, truly.” You say looking at Peter again tears running freely down your face as you do nothing to stop it. Peter feels a few of his own tears spilling over. He doens’t know what hurts you so opts to put his hand softly over yours and squeezing it gently. 

“I am so sorry you had to go through that. You are strong in ways I never will be or could comprehend. And I promise you I understand that lonely feeling. Why do you think I go to the library? I enjoy being at least around people. I lost all the people that were important to me. In one way or another they are all gone,” Peter says a faraway look in his eye. You squeeze his hand bringing him back to the presence as he looks at you again, “The silence is the worst part right? The silence… it overwhelms you. Creates a space that allows every bad thought to run free and you just can’t stop it.” He says and you nod your head in understanding. Peter had that sad and lost look in his eye. The same one you often saw when you looked in the mirror. 

“Well if it makes you feel better you have me. Maybe we could… create our own thing? Something that feels like home for the both of us. Then, we don’t have to be alone anymore” You reply smiling weakly at Peter. He smiles at you wiping the tears that fell from his eye

“I think I’d like that”

[apprenticestanheight]

would you be able to write amanda with a fem reader who wants to be courted? not like actual marriage courting but she likes the romantics and she’s not for casual stuff. if that makes any sense. thank you :)

Amanda Young x fem! romantic! reader headcanons

Hi anon!! This sat in my inbox too long and then it sat in my drafts too long and now that I have been forced to take a break from crocheting (I look down when I crochet and my neck is so stiff I can't move it without pain) and also because I rewatched saw III last week, I finally got the motivation to finish this one up! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been demotivated for a hell of a long time and writing has been tough.

Fic type - this one is just fluff

Warnings - none

Amanda isn't like you about the romantics or the courting stuff--she generally views romance as something that can happen organically, at least until she's like,, fully invested in your relationship.

she, despite her own initial feelings, will go all out for you bc she really does like you and will put in the effort for people she cares about.

She will take on extra hours at work just to be able to afford to take you out to nice places and to be so romantic that it would make even the most smitten couples vomit.

she's a lot like you in terms of your desires--not with the courting, but like, the devotion--and that becomes apparent maybe five or six months in, despite the fact that you'd both agreed it wouldn't be casual from the very beginning.

six months down and you're a fixture in her life that she can't really imagine being without, and you're the same with her. Nothing about your relationship is close to casual and six months in, discussions of moving in together start up.

Right out the gate it's agreed she'll move into your apartment, and she does so in like. a week max. She's packing her shit into like three boxes on Sunday morning and fully moved in by Friday night.

side tangent--I feel like she packs very lightly, just takes all of her clothes and some of her other stuff that's sentimental and then just tosses or sells the rest of it. Most of, if not everything she owns and actively cares about can fit into three boxes and maybe one backpack (which would primarily serve it's purpose in like, a small tablet, a laptop, a few notebooks and charging cords + maybe a pair of headphones or wired earbuds or smth)

and maybe a year or so in, things are so good!! People that know the two of you well enough to know you as more than very close best friends will often remark that a year gone you two act like you've been together for ten.

All in all, no matter how long the relationship lasts (which is like. all time or until amandas death, depending on whether or not you believe she could've faked her death or smth) it's very sweet goings on. You two are smitten from the beginning and stay that way until the end.

[charlieg1rl]

—𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬

𝟎𝟑. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

𝐰𝐜: 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

the campus studio had always been hyerin's safe haven. no matter how loud or chaotic her life became, the walls of that small, soundproofed room offered her a place to breathe, to create, and to let her emotions spill onto the pages of her notebook. music had always been her language, the way she expressed everything she couldn’t say out loud.

tonight was no different. the rhythmic tap of her drumsticks against the desk matched the beat she was building, her headphones drowning out the world beyond the studio. it was late, but time didn’t matter when she was in the zone.

until the door opened.

“seriously?” she muttered, spinning her chair around to face the intruder. her irritation morphed into disbelief when she saw who it was.

kim seungmin.

of all people.

“what are you doing here?” she snapped, tugging her headphones off.

seungmin stepped inside, his calm demeanor only fueling her annoyance. “i booked the studio,” he said simply, holding up his phone with the reservation email as if that made it okay.

“i’ve been using this studio for three years,” she said, crossing her arms. “and i don’t remember seeing your name on the regulars’ list.”

“well, there’s a first time for everything.” his voice was steady, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the room, taking in the scattered notebooks and cables. “looks like you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“i was working.”

“so am i,” he said, his voice clipped. “and last i checked, the studio doesn’t belong to you.”

the air between them crackled with tension, neither willing to back down. hyerin wanted to push back, to tell him to leave, but something about the quiet confidence in his tone stopped her.

“fine,” she said eventually, standing and gathering her things. “you want the studio? take it. just don’t touch my stuff.”

she shoved her notebooks into her bag, leaving her laptop behind in her haste. but as she stormed out, one notebook slipped free, landing unnoticed on the desk.

seungmin stood in the silence she left behind, his gaze falling on the notebook. he wasn’t the type to snoop, but the temptation was too strong. flipping it open, he scanned the lyrics scribbled across the pages.

the words caught him off guard. they were raw, emotional, and entirely unlike the vibrant, bold energy hyerin projected.

the more he read, the more skeptical he became.

was this the same hyerin who seemed to have it all together? the outgoing, flamboyant dancer who never let anyone see her sweat?

closing the notebook, seungmin leaned back in his chair, his thoughts spinning. he wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt like he needed to understand the person.

because something told him that hyerin’s music was more than just a performance. it was a mask.

the night felt different after hyerin left. seungmin sat there, the faint light of the studio overhead casting shadows on the floor as he opened the notebook again. the words written on the page weren’t just lyrics; they were confessions. raw, messy, and beautiful in their vulnerability. it didn’t make sense.

hyerin was everything he wasn’t. loud, confident, always the center of attention, both on and off stage. she wore her personality like a bright neon sign, drawing everyone’s eyes toward her. but the lyrics—those lyrics were so different from the persona she put out into the world.

as he read through the pages again, he began to understand. her songs weren’t about the upbeat, empowering anthems everyone assumed she wrote. they were about the loneliness she masked with energy, the pain she hid behind her smile, the quiet moments when she had nothing but herself.

seungmin’s fingers hesitated over the notebook. he wasn’t sure why it felt wrong to read her words, but they had become too personal, too intimate to ignore. he couldn’t stop himself, though. something pulled him in deeper, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

just as he was about to close the notebook, the door swung open.

hyerin walked in, her expression a mixture of defiance and surprise. “i thought i told you not to touch my stuff,” she said, her voice sharp.

seungmin snapped the notebook shut quickly, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “i didn’t,” he muttered. “just… reading the room.”

hyerin stared at him for a moment before walking over and grabbing the notebook, her fingers brushing his as she snatched it back. for a moment, the brief touch seemed to linger in the air.

she didn’t say anything at first, just flicked through the pages, her lips pressed into a tight line. seungmin could see the flicker of something in her eyes, something like panic, but she masked it quickly with a smirk.

“you want to know what it means?” she asked, her voice suddenly low, almost bitter. “you won’t get it.”

seungmin tilted his head, genuinely intrigued. “i think i’m starting to.”

hyerin laughed bitterly, tossing the notebook back onto the desk. “you don’t know anything about me, seungmin. these words are just a cover for the things i can’t say out loud. the things that would make you look at me differently. i write because it’s the only way i know how to let all the stuff inside me out.”

seungmin stood there, unsure how to respond. her words hit harder than he expected, but they also made something stir inside him, something he couldn’t name.

“then why don’t you let people see you for who you really are?” he asked quietly.

for a split second, hyerin’s guard faltered. her gaze flickered, and seungmin saw the raw vulnerability hiding just beneath the surface. but before he could process the look in her eyes, it was gone, replaced with a hard, defensive glare.

“i’m not like you,” she said sharply, crossing her arms. “i don’t need people to see the real me. that’s not how this world works, seungmin. you keep your shit together, you keep your mask on, and you never let anyone see the cracks. i don’t want anyone to see me like that.”

seungmin took a slow step toward her, his voice softer. “i think you do.”

hyerin took a step back, her chest rising and falling with a sharp breath. she shook her head, clearly frustrated. “you don’t get it. you just don’t get it.”

she spun on her heel, heading for the door.

“don’t run away.”

her hand paused on the doorframe, but she didn’t turn around. “i’m not running,” she said quietly. “i’m just leaving before you make this any worse.”

seungmin watched her walk out, the door closing softly behind her. he stood there for a long moment, the weight of their conversation settling heavily in the room. she was a mystery—more complicated than he’d ever thought.

and for some reason, the more he uncovered about her, the more he found himself wanting to know.

the mask wasn’t the only thing she was hiding.

the next day, seungmin found himself at the studio again, but this time it was different, she left her notebook again. he hadn’t planned on returning so soon. but after last night, something was pulling him back.

as he stepped into the room, the silence was almost suffocating. the notebook sat on the desk, untouched, and the beats from hyerin’s last session still lingered in the air. his fingers hovered over it for a moment, but he quickly pulled back.

he wasn’t supposed to read her stuff. but the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but wonder: what was hyerin really hiding?

what was behind the lyrics?

previous | masterlist | next

tags: @jeonginsbaee, @rhonnie23, @everythingboutkpop, @omgsecretsecret

[shubblelive]

— MONDAY MORNING

summary : you'd always craved the idea of someone knowing and loving you completely. fortunately for you it seems like that person sits three rows ahead of you.

genre : fluff

warnings : reader's friends suck, also i self projected here shh you didn't see it

pairing : wilbur soot x reader, non-streamer, musician!wilbur uni au

pronouns : none (you yours)

featuring : uni student!musician!wilbur soot

word count : 1.5k

note : finished my first term of college so i thought i'd put something out. not super duper proud of this, but it's something. so here you go!! enjoy <3

you absolutely despised study groups. you weren’t a massive fan of studying, of course, but doing it in groups was the bane of your existence. if you were studying, you preferred to do it in the library. there were specific sections, marked with signs; a person talking in a big red circle with a line through it. headphones on, laptop open with your pathetic amount of coloured pens. 

however, every monday morning before your 11 am lecture you found yourself in the student commons, spiral notebook on your lap, trying desperately to take notes and your friend would not shut up. she was going on about some girl she’d met at the bar the night before and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

“are you listening to me?” you weren’t, but she didn’t need to know that. you nodded, not looking up from your notes, and she apparently didn’t care enough to press, continuing on as if you weren’t even there. you had been friends with her since high school, and she’d introduced you to another two people you shared a class with. you weren’t particularly close with any of them, but they were the only people you knew. 

if you weren’t studying, you were working uptown at marcel’s, the swankiest bar that would hire a uni student. it was classes, then waiting on finance men who weren’t rich enough to afford the good stuff. after that was a two hour bus ride home, then taking care of your mum before more schoolwork, and then collapsing into bed at one in the morning, only to wake up for more classes. your day punctuated with your tedious friends. 

the timer on your phone went off, and you sighed. “i better go. have to talk to professor marks about the homework,”

they waved you off, barely even noticing your impending absence. you deflated a bit, but by the time you were out in the sun you felt a bit better. you’d been feeling somehow trapped and also invisible for the first twenty-odd years of your life. no one had ever seen you before, not like it didn’t in the movies. you’d been a comfortable level of lonely your entire life, and that didn’t change just because you now had a group of uni friends who shared the same ambitions as you. 

but being out in the quad, with the breeze flowing through the grass, made you optimistic. there was two boys at a wooden picnic table, textbooks spread between them as they exchanged soft smiles and jokes about what they were working on. there was a group of people relaxing on the grass. a girl with headphones gazing at the clouds. a campus full of people just waiting to be befriended, and yet there you were. three years in, and still with the same group of people you didn’t click with. 

you reached the building your next lecture was in, another twenty minutes until class started. the door was unlocked though, and you slipped inside quietly. professor marks was your favourite teacher, but she also wasn’t alone. 

your class had about fifty students in it, so you didn’t know him by name, but you had seen the guy she was talking to. he sat in the middle of the room, answered enough questions to get the 5% participation grade but not enough that he got taken note of. 

if someone had asked if you knew him, the best way to refer to him would be “the tall one.”

professor marks saw you and gave a chaste smile, turning back to your classmate to let him finish speaking. they talked for a few minutes, both nodding, before he stepped back politely to let you have your opening. however, before you got a chance to talk to her, her phone rang. “ugh,” she groaned, giving you a sympathetic look. “one second, so sorry.”

so you stayed there with what’s-his-name as your teacher stepped out of the room to take her phone call. you went to pull out your phone but got distracted by your classmate saying your name. you looked up at him, he gave you a sheepish smile. “sorry. that is your name, right? i didn’t get it wrong? that’d be embarrassing.”

you just nodded, hoping he would introduce himself. “i’m wilbur.” oh, how your prayers were answered for once. “i’ve seen you around. you’re in my geography class, aren’t you?”

god, you were embarrassing. you had noticed him in this class but not the other one. you nodded. “yeah, sorry. you’re wilbur. of course i know you. you’re in that band, right? they play in the quad sometimes?”

you were hoping it was the same wilbur. you remember thinking it was a weird name when you saw it on the poster. him and a few other names you didn’t recognise. surely there were not two people named wilbur in the one university, not with how old fashioned it was. 

the relief was palpable when he nodded. “yeah! you’ve seen us play?”

“you guys are really good,” you weren’t lying this time. “you played cyberbully mom club.” wilbur’s eyes lit up. “i love them. you did a really good job. what are you doing taking geography courses when you can sing like that?”

he laughed, bring a hand up to the front of his face, fluffing his hair nervously. “someone of great taste i see. what about you? i saw one of your paintings in the exhibition in the hall. why aren’t you getting an art degree?”

you flushed, looking down. none of your friends even knew you painted, and yet there was wilbur. 6’6” wilbur with his los campesinos jumper and his scuffed doc martens, quietly loving your favourite bands and your art. “guess this just seemed right?”

“i get that. i’m a big believer of fate,” you looked back up towards him, his warm brown eyes already looking at yours behind his round glasses. people had started filtering in, and your friends were gesturing at you impatiently to come sit up the back with them. “you should go, your friends want you.”

“i don’t want them.”

you were sitting down on the end of the row before you even realised what you’d said. wilbur just laughed, taking his usual seat, eyes shining. you sat through the next ninety minutes, looking at the back of wilbur’s head. 

“now, i’m going to let you guys pick groups for this project. three people, though. no groups of four. don’t even ask. i’ll give you the last fifteen minutes to work that out.” 

great. a group of three. you didn’t even need to turn to your friends before they were muttering sorries, and you were stuck looking around the room for other people in your same predicament. you didn’t have to look for long, making eye contact with wilbur almost immediately. he waved you down and you hesitantly made your way down to his row. 

“wanna work together?” his smile was so bright that you couldn’t even think of turning him down. he was charming, he liked the same things as you. but more than that, he saw you. he saw you better than your friends over the last three plus years did. 

“i’d like nothing more, will.” you replied, and wilbur grinned. “you sure, though? you probably have other friends in this class.”

“i do,” he admitted. “however, i want to get to know you better, and i was hoping this might give me an excuse to ask you out. or, if that’s not something you’re interested in, then you are also more than welcome to join me and a few of my friends in the courtyard after class, purely platonic.”

his words were quick, but you understood every syllable. you didn’t have time to meet after class, you had a rare hour off after your last class before you needed to grab the bus to marcel’s. “i would love to, but i have work every day this week, and next week. and every week, and the bus is hours long. i’m sorry.”

wilbur nodded. “if this is your way of letting me down gently, i totally understand that. uh, but-”

“no,” you said quickly. “it is. i work seven days a week, it’s not you,” he didn’t seem convinced, still convinced you were trying to be polite. he didn’t want you to lie to him if you truly weren’t interested. you’d had one conversation, but he felt giddy when you made eye contact with him. it was dumb, probably, but he really wanted to know you better. he didn’t want to press you. you could see that, so you tried again. “however, i think my schedule’s just become more open.” you glanced upwards at where your friends were sitting a few rows back. “i’m free monday morning?”

wilbur’s face lit up, still hesitant. “you sure? because if you’re not interested then it’s fine, really. i won’t give you a hard time about it. promise. you can still meet my friends, if you’d like. or if you want to we can pretend that the other person doesn’t exist.”

“no.” you said decidedly. “i’m free monday morning, and i would love if we could meet somewhere?”

he smiled at you. “i can’t wait.” you’d never looked forward to homework so much, and from the bright look on wilbur’s face, he hadn’t either. 

[xcviiq]

you and the pretty girl in the café | kcw x fem!reader | fluff | 2k

'she's here again.'

you'd think every time the same familiar girl would walk inside the café. her shoulder-length hair flowed perfectly as she walked towards the same spot that was parallel to yours, a table close to the windows to admire the beautiful seoul city. you weren't complaining; it was easier to admire her more this way.

she'd set her laptop, notebook, pen, and headphones down before heading over to the counter, ordering the same iced chocolate and donut. at this point, the barista already knew her order that all the girl had to say is "the usual."

but god, she is pretty. her hair and bangs framed her small and soft face. doe eyes shining under the weak light above her. her fashion sense was satisfying as well as all the colors she wore were coordinated perfectly. not to mention the way how cute her smile is. it's so contagious, like it makes you want to smile as well.

"you're staring again, y/n." your thoughts got cut off as lia, your best and only friend in college, informed in a teasing manner. you cleared your throat, quickly drinking your americano to hide the very-obvious blush on your face. your friend sighed, very much tired of your behavior.

"if you think she's pretty, then go talk to her!" she whisper-shouted. her face quickly brightened as the waiter finally served her drink which she ordered a few minutes ago. mouthing a 'thank you,' her attention came back to you.

"as if that's easy," you take a quick glance at the girl who was now fully occupied in her laptop, "she doesn't look like the type to be approachable."

"but you like her."

"no i don't!" you deny, your voice a bit louder than intended. you mumbled a small sorry to the bothered customers and looked at lia. "i just think she's attractive, that's all."

lia laughed at your words, almost as if she was ridiculing you. she mixed her drink and took a sip before opening her mouth. "y/n. as your best friend, i am sick and tired of you constantly talking about this 'pretty girl in the café.' and i'm even more sick and tired of the fact that you aren't doing anything about it!"

you protest, "it's not like that's easy to do lia! she probably doesn't even like girls." the other girl mentally face palmed as she looked at the pretty girl you were talking about. she admits, she is really pretty, but isn't exactly her type. she stared hard at the girl, trying to find small details that'd prove you wrong.

then, it clicked.

"aha! look." lia said, signaling you to look at the pretty girl.

"her laptop has a small lesbian sticker, see?" you were shocked at what your best friend said and almost didn't believe her until you started to focus your eyes. lia scoffed proudly as she saw your cheeks burn up at the sight.

"well, she might be taken." you cleared your throat, nearly breaking your neck by how quick you averted your gaze from her. "i doubt it. if she was taken, why would she be in here all alone?"

although lia had a point, you were still in denial. 'even if i did talk to her she won't be interested in me at all'. your best friend almost let out a laugh by how serious you were pondering right now, but she swallowed it and spoke.

"y/n. you'll regret it if you don't say anything to her." you grumbled at this statement, but finally accepted. lia clapped her hands in delight and relief, finally happy that she wouldn't be hearing of the same girl any time soon. "i'll do it tomorrow though."

─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ───

the next day came, and you were sitting at the same spot in the same café. you made sure to wear extra nicely today, dressed both handsomely and prettily since you didn't know if she was into masculine girls or feminine girls. instead of ordering your usual, you bought an iced chocolate, hoping that the girl you've been crushing on would notice.

a few minutes passed and you were starting to get anxious. 'it's past 3:20, why is she not here yet?' 'maybe she won't come today? i hope not, these clothes are expensive...' your thoughts were cut off as the wind chimes rang.

there she was; dressed intricately as ever. her flawless features were always so enthralling, your soul almost flew away. she sat down on her usual spot, taking it out the usual items, and ordering her usual order. it confused you on why she always did the same things like it was a routine, but that wasn't important.

your eyes went back to the laptop as you messaged lia.

: she's here omgomg

you take a sip of your drink, awaiting a reply that came rather quickly.

: SAY SMTH THEN?/?? GO UP TO HER

: i'm regretting this so much julia choi : i wanna bail

that was true. you weren't entirely confident about all of this and only agreed because some unknown ghost possessed you at that moment. you continuously gave short glances towards the pretty girl, and it only made your heart beat faster.

: istg y/n l/n. you HAVE to do this : youll regret it if u dont : U BETTER BE LISTENING Y/N

: I AM : PLS SAVE ME JULIA.

you chuckled at how aggressive lia is, but quickly cleared your throat.

: no thx, im with someone rn : think of the many possibilities that will happen if you just talk : besides u have nothing to lose if she doesnt seem interested in you

: i lose my confidence, my dignity, my pride, my will to live....

you can just imagine your best friend groaning at your text. you stared at the chat while shaking your drink, until a soft voice called out to you.

"um, y/n, right?"

your soul almost left your body as you looked up, the pretty girl you've admired ever since she first went inside the café staring down at you. she was so much more cuter and prettier and more attractive up close.

"yeah, that's me. can i help you with anything... miss?" you cussed yourself in your mind for how long of a pause you took. the girl chuckled, and you felt yourself grow smaller and smaller under her gaze.

"are you huh yunjin's classmate?" she asked once again, and you pondered. there were over 60 students or more in your batch, so it was hard to keep track of people. that was until you remembered a certain exchange student from new york.

"oh! the american? yes, she is part of my batch."

your heart melted as you watch the girl smile and sigh in relief. "oh that's a relief, i was panicking that i got the wrong person!" she laughed, her stiff body loosening up a bit. you laugh back, hoping that she'd loosen up some more.

"actually, i hope you don't see me as weird or anything but.." she started, your ears perking up while waiting for her to continue. that was until silence fell in the room—not really. the faint background music and chattering of the customers still stimulated your ears, but you get what i mean.

"hm?" you hummed, worried that you sounded rude and impatient to the girl you like. she breathed in and out, nervousness washing over her face before saying,

"do you like girls?"

it was faint and high pitched, and you barely heard what she said. you tilted your head, asking to repeat her sentence. the girl inhaled, "do you like girls?"

she said it more clearly this time, and everything made sense to you. your heart started beating even faster, your cheeks started to burn up, and all the words were stuck in your throat.

"o-oh! yes, yes i do!" that sounded as if you were accepting a marriage proposal, which made you clear your throat in embarrassment. the girl laughed brightly, and all your embarrassment faded away.

after her laughter died down, she quickly continued. "well, i was just thinking that you're really pretty and was wondering if... i could get your number? maybe..?" and you almost passed out.

you stared at her loving features, the girl becoming attractive every passing second. her cheeks were a bright pink, and yours were too. she was perfect. after all the 22 years of waiting and getting jealous of couples, you felt as if you found the one.

"um, hello..?"

"oh sorry! i just, um, got distracted." you said. "of course you can have my number. i also thought that you were really pretty too." you don't know where the confidence came from, but you didn't complain as you see the girl smile brightly at the compliment. she mumbled out a 'thank you' before sitting down on the chair in front of you.

"here's my number." you handed out a small, folded paper that you ripped from your small notepad. you had drawn small hearts around your number and name, hoping that it'd get the message across.

after that moment, you and chaewon—the name of the pretty girl—chatted for hours. you got to know each other well, and you two definitely felt more comfortable after every subject. in a blink of an eye, it's already 6:00 pm, which means the café will be closing.

chaewon helped you pack your things back in your bag and you two walk out the shop. it was already so dark, and almost no cars could be seen.

"i never knew seoul could be so peaceful at 6 pm."

"i'm used to it. it'll get busier once it turns 7 pm though." the short haired girl answered, adjusting her bag a bit. the cold breeze ran through your hair as you two walked comfortably side by side. it was silent, until you started a conversation.

"are you and huh yunjin friends?" chaewon looked up at you and nodded before replying. "mhm. i'm from another uni, but yunjin and i are still close. she's the one who actually helped me approach you, which is a bit embarrassing."

"how is that embarrassing?"

"well, i'm 22. i'm pretty sure 22 year olds are expected to know how to deal with this type of stuff." you hummed in response, trying to figure out a good reply to help her feel better. "i'm still very grateful for yunjin though."

"i'm 22 as well and i can barely even interact with people." you started, which took chaewon aback but listened nonetheless.

"it's normal, your age doesn't define the way you act. most adults are shy and a bit childish, while some teenagers are more social and mature. and that's okay. you don't have to fit into your age—i mean, it's just a number that indicates whether you're legal or not."

the short haired girl laughed at your last statement, her genuine happiness making the dark, night sky light up. the short haired girl nodded slightly.

"thank you, y/nnie."

you were caught off guard by the sudden nickname, but smiled softly. "thank you too, chaewonnie. this day was more fun with you."

comfortable silence fell in the atmosphere as you two continued to walk back to your apartment, relishing in each others warm presence.

you reached your apartment, and it was already around 6:57 pm when you arrived. the cold breeze became a bit weaker, but it's fine, you weren't uncomfortable or anything.

you looked at chaewon with soft eyes and you can't help but admire her. "thank you for this wonderful night, chaewon." the aforementioned girl smile widely and returned the statement. after one last glance, you walked over to your apartment door and pulled out your keys.

"wait."

you looked back at her, tilting your head. the short haired girl walked over to you and gave you a shy peck on the cheek, making you malfunction.

"text me, okay?"

you stared at her with wide eyes before nodding meekly. you managed to choke out an "okay" and chaewon started to walk back to her home. you stared at her, her hair flowing perfectly against her shoulders.

"take care, chaewonnie!" you exclaimed, and smiled as chaewon looked over her shoulder with bright cheeks and a sappy smile.

you have to thank lia for pushing you to talk to her.