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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

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With the razor crest destroyed, din no longer has that tiny closet(?) to sleep in. Imagine when grogu goes, din and you take a break and go to Naboo just to relax, process things and live in a villa retreat. He just cherishes you and loves you desperately like no other cos he can’t lose you too. You guys enjoy all the spaceand peace you have but can’t help missing the little green bean 🥺😭

Did someone say hurt & comfort hours? Because I believe that’s in order. Please enjoy. I am...crying. 🥺🥺

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader; warnings: S2 Finale Spoilers!

The Mandalorian Masterlist

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"Din?" his name was soft - reverent - as you stirred from slumber. Stretching, you reached across the plush bed to reach for your riduur, but instead of his warm, soft body, you found nothing. Emptiness. Sighing lightly, you realized the sheets were long cold. Again.

Pulling the soft, plush blankets back, you slipped out of the bed. You pulled on your discarded robe before striding over to the balcony where you could see his exhausted frame. He was leaning over the stone railing, head hung low as he clasped his hands together, almost as if he was praying to something - anything.

Maybe he was. Maybe he was praying to Maker to keep him safe. You safe. To figure out everything that had happened in the last several weeks. Everything he had ever known and come to know was crumbling apart right in front of him. Except you; his rock, his partner, his everything.

Din Djarin had never been a religious man, not unless, of course, it was something to do with his creed. But even that was out the window now.

He had so many questions, and yet so few answers. All he had now was you. And it was enough, more than enough.

You grounded him, enveloped him in a sense of peace and warmth in the chaos that seemed to rule his life. He was sure you were the only thing between sanity and him giving up and becoming an unholy mess at the moment.

"Din," you whispered his name to keep from startling him. He remained silent, unmoving as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms his waist before resting your head on his shoulder, "my light and stars. You weren't in bed."

"Couldn't sleep," he murmured as he put a hand onto top of yours, the cool metal of his wedding band almost burning your skin as he offered a gentle squeeze to your hand. You mumbled something inaudible before pressing a few kisses to the bare golden skin of his shoulder.

"I know, Din," you said softly, "but you need to try and rest. You haven't slept much in weeks."

"Yes," you felt his shoulders slump as he exhaled slowly, "its just...its..."

"I know," you admitted quietly, "I know its hard right now. So hard. But it will be okay, he will be okay. This is not...this is not the end. We will see him again, Din. He is our son."

Your Mandalorian remained silent for a few moments, but you could hear his breathing grow ragged, and his inhales and exhales become more sporadic. It was quiet, only the soft sounds of the waves of the lake slapping into sand and the singing of songbirds could be heard. Eventually, you heard a few sniffles before feeling a few tears spill onto your hand.

"Shhh," you soothed him, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand. You hummed softly under your breath as you held him, wishing you could take his pain and hurt away. You were grieving too, the sorrow and pain ran deep, but you knew it wasn't forever. And right now you needed to he strong for him, for him and yourself, for Grogu.

"I'm..." he stopped himself as you kissed the back of his neck, squeezing him as tightly as possibly to let him know just how loved he was.

"Its okay, my love," you promised softly, "let it go, let it all out. Its not good to hold it all in."

And so he did. He let himself weep, to cry with reckless abandon as he turned around in your arms and engulfed you in his own, swallowing you up as he clung onto as though his life depended on it. Burrowing his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you reached up and carded a hand through his dark curls. Rocking him back and forth softly, you rubbed his back in calming motions, and offered him tender words of reassurance, much as you would have done for your little one.

In that moment you radiated nothing but love onto him, trying to convey how much he meant to you, how he was the brightest star in your galaxy, how everything would be okay.

Eventually, his heart wrenching sobs turned to quiet sniffles, and after a time you were once again met with nothing but the tranquil stillness of nature.

Din pulled back from you, his large hands finding your face as he studied your features. Your hands went to his wrists as you held onto them gently. He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to your forehead, "thank you mesh'la. I love you more than you will ever know."

"I love you too, Brown Eyes," you offered him a small smile as he eyes crinkled softly with the ghost of a smile, "you know I love you with all of my heart. You are everything to me, Din."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he admitted softly as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He brought his hands down to your waist as you gently wiped away the remnants of his tears, "I can't lose you. Not after..."

"You didn't lose him, Din," you insisted, "this was what we knew might happen all along. The bond the two of you share is immeasurable. You will always find your back to each other. I swear it - and I will be by your side always. We’re a family, and that means no matter how great the distance or time, in the end we will always be together.”

"It hurts," he admitted with a shaky breath as you offered a nod in understanding, "when will it stop hurting? I don't want to feel like this forever. I thought it would get better.”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” you wrapped him back up in your touch, “it’s going to hurt, and that’s okay, it’s normal. But it won’t always be like this; it will get better and easier, but the most important thing is that you remember that what you did, the choice he made, was the right thing. You didn’t do anything bad or wrong, even though it might feel like that now.”

“I know,” he agreed with the smallest of smiles as he kissed the side of your, “this was my mission from the start....and he chose to reach out to the Jedi.”

“He did,” you concluded, “but that he doesn’t mean he didn’t want to be with you, or that he didn’t love you, or stop thinking of you as his father. He needs to do this for himself too.”

“You must think me foolish for getting so attached.”

“Never,” you promised sharply, turning his face so he was looking at you, “experiencing emotion is not a shameful thing. You loved - love - him, Din, and he feels the same. There is nothing wrong with opening your heart and loving. Look at us; did you ever think we’d end up here?”

“No,” he sniffled quietly as you laughed at the memory of your first encounter with Din Djarin, “you tried to blast me to pieces and then knocked me out.”

“I thought you were an intruder and I was trying to protect myself,” you insisted with a kiss to his cheek, “my point is that its okay to love and sometimes it is scary and daunting, but its okay. Love is...its everything. And with it, we’ll get through anything. You taught him so much and he did the same to you.”

“He did...before him, before you, I didn’t think I would ever...” he stopped and caught your gaze, his soft,dark eyes looking at with such intensity, but still so much vulnerability, “we’ll get him back. One day. And no matter how long it is, it doesn’t anything. We’ll always be aliit.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, scratching gently at his scalp as he keened into your touch, “family is everything, you know this. Besides, your story... his story is far from over. There is still much left to do in this life.”

“I think I’d like a long break first,” for the first time in weeks, since he’d made his tearful goodbye to Grogu, you hear him laugh. A genuine, warm, full bodied laugh. The sound was enough to make your heart warm and settle down in your chest. It was a beautiful sound that you had desperately missed, and hearing it was again set everything right in the galaxy. You hummed in agreement as you let him hold you and rested your head against his chest, “I’d like to spend some time alone with my riduur. To rest. To relax - to breathe.”

“We have all the time in the galaxy, Din,” you promised, “we can stay here as long as we want.”

“I like that,” he agreed, kissing the crown of your head, “besides, who knows what hellish adventure awaits whenever we decide to rejoin the world?”

“It’s never a dull day for Din Djarin, or should I say my Mand’alor?” you teased as you started to reached for his hands to pull him back inside so he could actually rest.

“Oh no,” he groaned jokingly, “please, not you too.”

“I jest,” you insisted as he let you pulled him inside, “if you’re the ruler of anything, you’re my King, Din. I am yours, always and forever.”

“I like the sound of that,” he sighed contentedly, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Din.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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jtrbluv · 4 years ago

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we’re not really strangers | pjm

summary: We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose-driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections. Three carefully crafted levels of questions and wildcards that allow you to deepen your existing relationships and create new ones. Ready?

or alternatively,

your furtive infatuation with your lifelong best friend proves to be hard to suppress when there’s (1) alcohol involved and (2) a card game that forces you to reveal more about yourself than you could ever wish for. in short, no, you are not ready.

[friends to lovers!au]

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, crack, slight angst

word count: 8.7k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, two emotionally constipated best friend, PG-15

A/N: hi, i’ve been really excited about this fic for a while, and i’m genuinely so happy that i finally finished it! the card game is in fact real and i got inspired for this fic after i had played the game with a couple of friends myself. AHEM! @koushiningg ! we both cried and i do highly recommend to play it! but anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic because i had a lot of fun writing it! sending love always... jumi out!

EDIT: @bangtans-peaceful-piegon i’d also like to thank the lovely pidge for beta reading this 4 me as well! PIDGE I FUCKIN LOB U!!!

PLAYLIST ; SEQUEL

�� ♤ ♤

Not once in your life did you ever imagine a simple card game to become the bane of your existence.

Yet Park Jimin was able to prove you wrong.

Let’s play ‘We’re Not Really Strangers’ he said. It’ll be fun, he said.

You stare down at the card in front of you—everything else in your periphery was blurry in vision and you can audibly pinpoint the erratic beating of your heart.

The card was practically taunting you, laughing in your face. It was as if there was a sentient being in the room who was aware of your own subconscious and the not so latent feelings you had for the boy sitting in front of you.

Same said being loved to constantly place you in a state of trepidation concerning your current situation—your blood pressure skyrocketing—nearly feeling the muscular pink thing inside of you thrusting itself against your ribcage.

The white card with crimson red writing made sure to leave an impact, making you feel the most ridiculed you’ve felt all night which says a lot—leaving your mind in a complete frenzy although you refused to let it be known.

And so you sat there. Fiddling the card in between your fingers, feigning nonchalance. You were very much on the brink of cracking your facade—your sanity practically crumbling as the minutes ticked by. You didn’t think you’d last this long to be honest. Yet an hour and a half proved to be way too straining on your body, especially your heart.

He simply sat there with his hands folded on the table—void of emotion, whistling a familiar top 50s tune you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You considered shifting your focuses on trying to comprehend the tune—hoping it would ease the concerning state of apprehension you were in.

But then you remember that you aren’t that pathetic. Even though you both had probably been sitting in complete silence for about two minutes now. Up to the point where you could probably hear the crickets chirping outside his apartment, except the only sound that was filling your ears was your own conscience telling you how idiotic you were being.

Your face may be gradually morphing the same shade of crimson as the writing inscribed onto the card itself, and you may have a whole line of sweat encompassing your hairline. But it’s just a stupid little card game. You could say any stupid little answer and the stupid not-so-little boy wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care. So you shouldn’t care.

When did you become so pathetic after all?

-one hour and a half ago-

“Why can’t we just play Mario Kart or Uno? This sounds like there’s too much thinking involved,” you whine, leaning against the side of his couch.

“One, we always play that. And two, I always lose,” he grumbles, plopping down onto the floor.

Jimin rests his back on the frame of the couch as he sits in the small gap made by the large piece of furniture and the coffee table that resided in front of it. You decide to sit on the floor as well, around an arm’s length away from your friend. He places the red box down onto the table—opening the cap and revealing the contents with a mischievous glint in his irises.

Within the box was a deck of cards, separated into three piles with two pencils on either side. Knowing Jimin, you assumed this game had an ulterior motive you were unaware of, and by the title of the game, you could already tell that you weren’t going to like it very much.

“How do you even play this?” You ask, causing him to look up in return.

He bites his lip, taking a couple seconds to ponder on your question, “I don’t know it’s my first-time playing too,” he shrugs. “I was watching Jin and Namjoon playing it a couple of weeks ago and for some reason, Jungkook started crying.”

“He is a sap,” you hum in agreement, thinking in retrospect of Jungkook crying from various situations such as Iron Man dying or that one time Jin farted on his pillow and he got pink eye for a whole week.

“The biggest,” he concurs, “Hm, there’s no instructions in here.” He mutters while shuffling through the cards.

“Why don’t you just search it up?” You suggest, sliding the box to yourself as he nods and fishes his phone out of his pocket.

While holding the box in the palm of your hand, you scan the contents—turning it around in your palm until your eyes narrow in on the words printed at the bottom.

“Oh, it says something here.”

His head perks up. “Hm? What is it?”

You clear your throat at the sight of the long explanation. “We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose-driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections. Three carefully crafted levels of questions and wildcards that allow you to deepen your existing relationships and create new ones.” You internally grimace at the words. The game hasn’t even started and you already had a bad feeling about it all. “Ready?” You say through clenched teeth, purposely keeping your head hung low.

Jimin’s lips quirk up into a cheerful grin, unaware of the piercing stare you were giving him. “Okay, I think I got it,” he declares, eyes zeroed in on his phone once more, ”There’s three levels—perception, connection, and reflection. Each level we pass, the deeper and more thought-provoking the questions get. Helping us make a deeper connection and get to know each other better yadda yadda yadda.”

You nod in understanding, sliding the box of cards back towards him—forcing the grimace that kept threatening to plaster itself onto your face into a small, smug smile.

“The first thing we have to do,” he begins, taking out two pencils and two small pieces of paper, “is write messages to each other. We won’t be able to open these until after we leave.” He explains, sliding a pencil and paper towards you.

“Wow, very cryptic,” you tut, biting down on your bottom lip before more distasteful remarks decided to leave your lips. He doesn’t catch your reaction or your comment though because he’s already got his pencil in his hand, scribbling vigorously onto the tiny piece of paper. Knowing him it could very well be nonsensical insults and doodles, or a whole essay about your friendship and what you mean to him. Most likely ludicrous and full of thought, either way, just like him.

Without much thought, you lazily jot onto the paper.

know that i love u, u fucker <3

-y/n

The sound of your pencil falling against the table causes him to look up at you, eyes knit together in confusion.

“You’re done already?”

You chuckle, “I mean, I wasn’t going to write an essay. You already know how I feel about you. But it seems like you’re writing one though.”

His eyes narrow in on you—giving you an indiscernible look before letting out a small ‘hmph’ and lowering his focus back down to his pencil and paper. You dismiss his enigmatic behavior—deciding to mindlessly scroll on your phone while waiting for him to finish his MLA formatted essay.

Two minutes pass and you hear the sound of his pencil being placed onto the table. “Done.”

“You added citations too right?”

He scoffs, “No, but i’ll gladly add some if you’d like.”

You roll your eyes for what seems like the umpteenth time in the last five minutes, “Just start the goddamn game.”

He takes the first stack of cards and shuffles them between his hands. “In all three levels, there are wild cards or basically dares we have to complete. And for each level, we get two ‘dig deeper’ cards. Pretty self-explanatory. So this is the perception level. It’s basically designed for first encounters and strangers, and we’re gonna be asking each other questions about ourselves.”

Your eyes widen at the whole confidentiality of it all. “Are we going through all of those cards?” You blurt out, staring at what seemed to be like 50 cards in his hands.

“Oh no,” he quickly refutes, “It would take hours. We’ll just do like 12 cards each.”

“Alright,” you huff, letting out a small breath of relief.

“Yay! Okay I’ll go first,” he beams, his toothy smile evident as he places the deck in between the two of you while grabbing a card from the top, “What do you think my name is?”

You snort at the conspicuousness of the question, “Jamal.”

He immediately guffaws at your response, throwing his head back in addition. “Hey, I don’t mind that.”

“Are all of the questions like this?” You say in between hushed laughter.

“Nah,” he shakes his head as you pick up another card from the deck, “now you ask me.”

“Alright, what’s the first thing you noticed about me?” You ask, slightly taken aback by the sudden earnestness of the question, causing you to become genuinely curious about what his answer was going to be.

He hums, taking a second to think it through. “I think your smile and your laugh. It’s always been really contagious since the day I met you.” He admits, almost matter-of-factly as if it was something you should’ve known by now, yet you did not.

Your heart nearly disintegrates into a puddle of goop right then and there, but you manage to conceal your reaction, “Aw, you actually like me.” You tease.

He scoffs with a playful grin on his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself. You still cackle like a damn hyena.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “At least I don’t laugh at every single of Jin’s lame ass jokes.”

He gasps, jaw slack open due to your all too accurate truthbomb, “I did not ask to be attacked in my own residence.”

“Well, what are you gonna do about it then.”

He snorts. “Holy shit, do you remember when I banged my head on the corner of his coffee table.”

“How could I forget? I had the picture of the bump on your head as my lockscreen for like a month.” You reminisce, resisting the urge to pull up the picture from your phone.

“Yeah, and that same month I bought and rotated between the same 10 hats.”

“Hey! It genuinely didn’t look as bad as you thought.”

He whips his head towards you, giving you a piercing glare that made you want to redact your statement immediately.

He grins from ear to ear, the little shit, amused at the reaction he was able to garner from you.

“Aha!” He suddenly guffaws, shooting out of the floor and prancing towards his fridge. He then takes out three bottles of lychee-flavored soju and makes his way back towards the table.

Jimin being the borderline alcoholic he is, it doesn’t come as a surprise to you. Not even after he takes another trip back to the fridge to grab yet another three bottles of soju, mango-flavored to be exact. He has probably one of the stupidest grins etched onto his face as he held onto the bottles—meanwhile you were more concerned about the possibility of having to clean up a bunch of broken glass and wasted soju. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“And do you plan on drinking all of this by yourself?” you say, gesturing towards the bottles.

“I know my liver is strong, but I don’t buy this shit just to enjoy alone,” he retorts. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head as you click your tongue, “Playing this while tipsy just sounds ten times better don’t you think?.”

You shrug—although you had a strong hunch for what he was insinuating, “I mean I guess.”

He starts to pour soju into his shot glass, stopping just before it hits the brim. He slides the glass to you and you take it into your hand, eyeing the sparkling fluid and thinking about the way the contents would do its little all-too-familiar dance on your tongue.

“Well, you know what they say,” he says, pouring a glass for himself, “drunk words are sober thoughts,” he finishes while dragging out the last word—downing the first shot in one quick swig. You follow his lead soon thereafter, refusing to let your mind linger on what he had just said and the viable likelihood of you spewing out the words that could just make or break your longstanding friendship and lead to a lifetime of regret.

Obviously, everything’s going fine and dandy for you.

The next 20 minutes consisted of a plethora of superficial questions that would vary from:

“What's your favorite song lyric you can think of off the top of your head?”

Your head shoots up as if the lightbulb in your head just flashed on. “Easy. Shawty’s like a melody in my head that i cant keep out got me singing like-“

He lunges over to clap a hand over your mouth before you could sing the next line. “Na na na na no Y/N. Please stop.”

Or something along the lines of:

“What character do you think I'd play in a movie?” He asks with a smug smile.

“You’d be the second male lead that everyone secretly wants to end up with the main character because you act all sweet and kind and and genuinely cares about her but instead she chooses the other guy because something about him draws her in and it was her ‘gut instinct’ or some shit like that.”

“So I would get second male lead syndrome?” He reiterates.

“Yes.”

He sets his shot glass back down with a glower, clearly taken aback. “That is the biggest insult I’ve ever gotten in my entire life.”

You also couldn’t forget about:

“Oh, this one says to create a secret handshake.”

“No.” You deadpan.

“And why not?”

“Your pinky‘s the size of a vienna sausa—“

He smacks you square in the cheek with a pillow before you could finish your sentence. You don’t even fight back because your mind was so slow to process what he had just done. The fact that you only slept for 5 hours last night didn’t help whatsoever. Your evident lack of energy causes him to jab his finger into your side, causing a loud shriek—your fight or flight response starts kicking in as you grab the back of his neck and slam his face against the fabric of the couch cushion.

Soju was never able to make the two of you full on drunk—buzzed of course, but not enough for complete incoherency. And so you both down a bottle each before finishing the first round.

“I’m surprised we didn’t get any wild cards that round,” he says while resting his head on the couch.

You purse your lips, “You spoke too soon.”

His eyes flash open as he cranes his neck in an attempt to see the card. “Wait actually?”

You can feel your insides churn as you read the words in front of you, and you were sure that it wasn’t the alcohol talking. “Write down the three most important things to you in a relationship for 30 seconds and then compare.”

Jimin reaches over to grab two pieces of paper and pencils while unlocking his phone to find the timer app, “Okay, I’ll put a timer on for 30 seconds starting… now.”

And so the internal monologue in your head begins.

Three most important things… only three? That’s not anywhere near enough to suffice. Wait, what would the first one even be… oh yeah, trust. Trust is very much important yes, yes, yes. What else? Um, communication? Yes of course, that’s essential. Okay, what would the last one be?

You sneak a glance over at Jimin. His cheek is squished against the palm of his hand, making his cheek fat (an area in which he lacked in) more prominent and the pink, plush flesh of his lips appear even bigger than they already were.

The ceiling light emitted a faint, ambient glow—the lights and shadows hitting all the slopes and curves of his face. You never understood how someone could be so effortlessly stunning. Even the mess atop his head that’s supposed to be his hair looks purposely tousled—the ebony strands sticking up in multiple directions was framing his temples and contrasted with the honey-like hues of his skin.

Unlike the glow that radiated from the lights of the worn-down apartment and the radiance of whatever was beyond the glass of the window behind him, everything about him seemed to glow much brighter.

“Hello, earth to Y/N, your 30 seconds is up.” He interrupts pointedly, waving a hand in front of your face.

Blinking rapidly, you shake your head as well as all preceding thoughts that definitely weren’t consuming your mind a few seconds ago, “Sorry w-what?”

He laughs at your disoriented state, “Did you finish writing your three things?”

No, I wrote your name as number 3. “Yeah, I did. You can go first though.”

He nods with a small smile. “Oh, okay then let’s see. First, I put trust. I don’t know, I think everyone puts that to be honest. After that, I put communication. I feel like that’s just a given y’know. Another thing I feel like most people would say.”

You utter a timid “mhm” under your breath albeit zoning out and being unaware of what he was saying. Opportunely, you managed to scribble out his name with the mere seconds that had passed and now you were tapping the lead point of the pencil against the paper, littering the page with a bunch of grey, little dots—incognizant to the fact that he had his eyes focused on you the whole time.

“I didn’t really know what to put last. Three things isn’t anywhere near enough in my opinion. But at the last second, I wrote down vulnerability,” he continues.

You look up upon hearing the last word. “Oh wow, that’s good. I didn’t even think about that.”

He chuckles unabashedly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Right? I just figured. At first, I thought it would go in the same category as trust but then I thought about it more. Yeah, you can trust someone and someone can trust you, but to what extent does that all go to. Where does it start? And where does it even end? You need to be able to open up to the person I feel like. So I guess trust and vulnerability go hand in hand.”

Impressed with his words, you decide to chime in. “Wouldn’t communication go along with it too?”

“Hm?”

You place your pencil down. “You would open up to each other by means of communication, becoming more vulnerable, and then overall gaining more trust in the end.”

His brows raise at your sudden revelation, “Wait, you’re so right, did you just wax poetic and full cycle all that?.”

You smile, “I mean I guess,” you respond humbly, “ it does make sense though, does it not?”

He hums in agreement while downing another shot, “It applies to us, right?”

You force out a chuckle, but it comes out a lot more faux-sounding than you would’ve liked. “Haha, yeah I guess it does, doesn’t it.” Once again, starting to dive deeper into the abyss of pitiful hope and unrequitedness.

“Describe your perfect day.” He suddenly interjects.

You quirk a brow. “Didn’t I just go?”

“It’s okay, I’ll go for this one too.”

“Alright,” you say, foot tapping on the wooden floor as you look past him and out into the glass window of his living room, “well, I wouldn’t have school of course. And I think it would all depend on how I feel that day. If I was feeling particularly lazy, the day would probably consist of me binge-watching shows in bed while eating a shitton of carbs. And the other case would probably be galavanting around the city or going to an amusement park with friends.”

Jimin listens intently and smiles as you speak, causing you to avoid his stare before pigment threatened to rush to your cheeks, “Both of those scenarios sound really nice. I better be included too.”

You roll your eyes, turning away to hide the grin creeping up your cheeks, “We’ll see.”

He groans, standing up from his spot on the floor and falling onto his couch instead, “My asscheeks hurt.”

Your face contorts into a look of disgust, “And you want me to do what with that information?”

Scoffing lightly, he leans back into the cushions and tilts his head back, “It was a declaration, not a cry for help.”

“Yeah, and it’s the bony ass for me.”

His head perks up. “It’s having a flatter ass than their guy best friend for me.”

Gulping down the sad but unequivocal truth, “It’s kissing up to every teacher’s ass for me.”

His eyes narrow in pure chagrin, “It’s the crying on your teacher’s doorstep for them to round your grade for me.”

“It’s splitting your pants on orientation day for me.”

“Fuck you, people would pay to see this ass! It’s getting a concussion from falling down the main hall stairs for me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I told you that they waxed the floors that day!” You snap back.

“Okay, and who said it was a good idea to walk down three flights of stairs while trying to cram for a midterm? Yeah, exactly no one.” He says incisively, giving you an even bigger urge to push him off of the couch, yet you digress.

“This could go on for hours.” You heave out.

“Is that the sound of someone giving up I’m hearing?”

“Is that the sound of a midget I’m hearing?”

“But I’m taller than you?!” He screeches petulantly, smacking your shoulder. You burst out into a fit of laughter—toppling onto the wooden floor with pure malice.

Gasping for air, you attempt to stifle your laughter and regain your breath. “Wow, I’m on a roll today! I deserve another shot.”

He shakes his head, his anger quelling at the sight of your giddiness. “Remind me to not let you drink and play this game.”

You turn over from your side to lay on your back. “This will be the first and the last time I play this game with you.” You say almost immediately—the words involuntarily slipping from your mouth before you could stop it.

He sinks in his spot on the couch, brows knitting at your comment. “Why?”

Sobriety crashes into you like a colossal wave —your irritation dissipates almost immediately. The exaggerated tone your voice begins to register through your head—as well as the fact that you sounded a lot more disapproving than you intended.

Groaning at your hindered ability to think and process properly, you attempt to clear the air, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. We just... practically know everything about each other I guess. What else is there to know?”

He hums. “You sure about that?”

What? “Wait what?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles awkwardly, “next question.”

The straightforwardness of the next question causes you to quirk a brow, “How are you, really?”

His eyes widen. “Well, that’s a deep one, isn’t it?”

You smile. “A little.”

He sighs, a small grin lacing his features, “Hm, how am I,” he affirms, adjusting himself in his spot on the couch, “I feel content with where I am right now, I guess. Things can always be better, but at the same time they could be worse too.”

Your number one defense mechanism as of late has been to constantly tease and make jokes at the poor guy—essentially using him as your own mental punching bag. He went along with it out of the assumption that it was all caused by your stress from school while you knew the true origins of your behavior.

You smile at his optimism, "Hey, that's always good to hear."

He chuckles, shifting his position on the couch so he could face you directly, "I don't know, maybe it's the new sense of freedom. Or all the amazing people I've gotten to meet and the opportunities that are offered here. Or the fact that I'm still going to the same school as my best friend after all this damn time."

"Chim, don't get sappy on me man." You warn him while pouting exaggeratedly— slumping onto the frame of the couch while he takes a strand of your hair in between his fingers. You bask in the moment, your eyes shutting close.

"Hey, I'm just being honest! For some reason, it all makes up for the impending student debt and draining lectures and professors that have a superiority complex as fat as their paycheck."

"Too bad their paycheck still isn't as fat as your ass."

An audible gasp coming from the only other person in the room causes your eyes to flutter open.

"Aw," he coos, ruffling the hair atop of your head, "that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night. Admit it, you love me."

Out of instinct, you opt to stick your tongue at him instead of replying with a witty comeback. You turn away from him before mumbling to yourself, "More than you'll ever know buddy."

"What was that?"

Shit. "Nothing. Next question!"

After twenty questions and a whopping 10 empty soju bottles later, you are quite literally about to implode.

Your eyes stare down at the card in front of you—everything that surrounds it is blurry in vision and you can audibly pinpoint the erratic beating of your heart.

The card was practically taunting you, laughing in your face. It was as if there was a sentient being in the universe who was aware of your own subconscious and the not so latent feelings you had for the boy sitting in front of you. Same said being loved to constantly place you in a state of trepidation concerning your current situation—your blood pressure skyrocketing—nearly feeling the muscular pink thing inside of you thrusting itself against your ribcage.

The imminent headache was starting to spread towards your temples and you practically felt like you could feel your brain shifting inside your head at this point. Although you felt groggy, you were certain that your heart was at a rate that is way faster than it should be. And sitting on your legs has caused them to lose all feeling from the tips of your toes all the way up to your kneecaps. One attempt at standing and you would come crashing to the floor in a heartbeat.

To say you were mad was an understatement. Out of all the times throughout the entirety of this hour and a half that you were playing this game, he decided that now would be the best time to use his 'dig deeper' card.

There it was.

Admit something.

"Okay fine, I was the one who stuck pink hair dye in your shampoo last semester."

"Y/N, did you really think I didn't know? C’mon I know there’s something else in there.”

You scowl, brows furrowing, “Why would I keep something from you?”

“Why are you getting so defensive over this?”

"What the hell is there for me to admit to you?" You snap back in exasperation, the harsh tone of your voice rendering the two of you speechless.

He averts his gaze, closing his eyes while inhaling a deep sigh. "Ever since we started college, why have you been treating me so differently?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, stumped. Yet you refuse to wither out of this.

"I– are you mad?"

"No. Of course not," he quickly digresses, softening his gaze, "I just noticed after all this time that you've only been acting differently towards me. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong Jimin. You never have."

His eyes narrow, giving you yet another indecipherable look, "I'm using my 'dig deeper' card." He deadpans.

And so you sat there. Fiddling the card in between your fingers, feigning nonchalance. You were very much on the brink of cracking your facade—your sanity practically crumbling as the minutes ticked by. You didn’t think you’d last this long, to be honest. Yet an hour and a half proved to be way too straining on you in a variety of different ways.

He simply sat there with his hands folded on the table—void of emotion, whistling a familiar top 50s tune you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You considered shifting your focuses on trying to comprehend the tune—hoping it would ease the concerning state of apprehension you were in. But then you assured yourself that you haven't reached that level of patheticism yet.

Even though you both had probably been sitting in complete silence for about two minutes now —practically anyone else could detect was the crickets chirping outside his apartment, yet the only sound that was filling your eardrums was your own conscience telling you how idiotic you were being.

This was it. There was no point in trying to weasel yourself out of this situation. If you tried, your more than futile attempt could very well end up causing more problems than if you were to go with the latter.

So instead of constantly wracking your brain with witty banter and deceitful ways to gaslight your feelings for the man sitting in front of you, you come to terms with the fact that your time had run out. You internally commend yourself for putting up a good fight, as well as internally become accosted at how immature you were at handling the whole situation.

You sharply inhale through your nose, peering at the man sitting in front of you as his eyes meet your own, "Alright."

He offers you a small yet empathetic smile in return, giving you the tiniest sliver of reassurance. His hand pats the couch cushion next to him, motioning for you to sit down next to him.

You push yourself up from the floor, immediately propping a leg onto the couch to avoid your numb limbs to be the cause of your embarrassment.

You inhale slowly through your nose and out through your mouth. "This is going to sound really absurd. Like more than absurd. Possibly borderline hysterical." No Y/N, why would you say that?

He interjects, placing a hand on your forearm. "I'm beginning to think you're becoming borderline hysterical," he lets out a small chuckle, "slow down Y/N. One thought at a time."

Your jaw is still slack open due to your previous rambling. "I'm sorry, I just—I don't think I've ever felt this anxious… around you at least."

He bites his lip, eyes trailing away from yours as he tries to think of a way to aid you, "Will it help if I turn around?

"Maybe." You reply timidly, smiling to yourself as his back came into view.

“It’ll be pretty funny if we don’t remember this in the morning,” you start off with, “I shouldn’t be saying that either I’m sorry. Stupid alcohol.”

He snickers at your drunken state, it was adorable. “Pretend I’m not here Y/N. Like you’re talking to a wall.” He advises, back still turned.

You nod although he can’t see you. “Okay. Well, hi Mr. Wall. I’ve been keeping a secret from my best friend for as long as I’ve known him and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve suppressed it all this time in hopes that it would eventually fade away, and it almost did. No really, it actually almost did. But now it’s back again and all the same feelings came, but like freaking twofold. No, tenfold. No, like a hundred fucking fold.”

Jimin tries excruciatingly hard to stifle his laughter, cupping a hand to his mouth so he wouldn’t move and distract you.

“I’m literally in love with my freaking best friend when I know he doesn’t see me in that light nor will he ever. If he did, we wouldn’t be where we are right now because I am so shitty at hiding my feelings that I am more than certain that I’ve let the truth slip a couple of times.” You say all in one breath.

He slowly detaches his hand from his mouth, eyebrows raising in disbelief in the words you had just said. His body urges him to turn around. Yet you continue to think out loud. So he digresses.

“Towards the end of high school, I think my feelings started to become more dormant because I had become more concerned over finishing high school and transitioning into college. I was content and I convinced myself that my feelings were fleeting for once.” You begin with, allowing whatever thoughts that you consumed your mind to spill all out for Mr. Wall to hear.

You sigh, taking a pillow from his couch and squeezing onto it for dear life. “That was until we ended up getting into our top picks and going to the same school. I couldn’t believe it. My stupid head tried to convince me that life had always just paired the two of us up together for some reason. And that maybe, just maybe I had a chance. But whatever I guess. I don’t know.”

A notification causes your eyes to trail to your phone. Really, Professor La, this is not a good time to tell me to finish my research paper. You swipe at the notification, revealing your lock screen—a photo of you and Jimin at an amusement park back at your hometown, sporting matching university hoodies with bright smiles on your faces that were captured mid-laughter.

Setting your phone down, you lean into the couch—letting your head fall into the cushions as your eyelids slowly start to droop shut. “What also didn’t help is how college life just seems to suit him perfectly. He just always looks so happy now. Like yeah, he’s always been a social butterfly. Yet in addition to that he has top notch grades. He charms professors. For fuck’s sake the Dean treats him like a son. His passion, his laughter, his love, his happiness. It’s always been so infectious. But college just made the effect he has on people grow even stronger. I-,” you stammer, pausing breathlessly, “it just looks like he truly belongs here. Like college was just made for him.”

He sits there in a complete stupor—still trying to process all the words that he had just heard. His body is itching to turn around, take you into his arms, whisper soft nothings into your ear. Anythings. Everything. He never wanted you to feel anxious about his feelings for you ever again.

“Mr. Wall, that was a lot, I’m sorry. But I’m really… really tired.” You utter quietly, a long yawn escaping your lips. You fall asleep.

Ten seconds pass until Jimin sneaks a glance over his shoulder, scanning your body as he notices your shut eyes and timid grip on his pillow.

“Y/N?”

You’re unresponsive.

He grins at the sight. Getting up from his seat, he makes his way toward you—slowly prying the pillow from your grasp as you carefully slides his hands under your body and picks you up from the couch.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder as he carries you to his bedroom. You are very much still asleep, yet you always had the habit of needing something to hold onto while you were unconscious.

Kicking the sheets aside, he makes room for you to lie down as he gently places you onto his bed. He quickly scurries to the other side, slipping into the covers himself as he lays down beside you.

The sudden contact causes you to shift in your sleep—suddenly wrapping an arm around his torso. He lays there, completely stunned at your actions and begins to heavily debate whether he should give into his desires or not.

The internal conflict lasts about two seconds before he turns to his side—placing his free hand on the small of your back and pulling you into his chest, leaving a small pocket of space in between your two bodies.

Unknowingly, you close the gap almost immediately—nestling your head into the crook of his neck as your arm that was lazily slung over his torso starts to tighten its hold around his body.

His arm slings over your unconscious form, his hands making his way to your back as he basks in the foreign feeling, being this close in proximity to you. It was different. Yet it almost felt like it was where he belonged. And he was scared because he didn’t want it to end.

While gently placing his chin on the top of your head, he begins to stroke your hair as fatigue starts to wash over him as well. “Things will make sense soon Y/N, I swear.”

He retracts, craning his neck in an attempt to see your sleeping form. His attempt proves to be futile when an indecipherable groan leaves your lips—brows knitting slightly and lips curling downward from the sudden lack of warmth.

His soft laughter fills the room as he obliges—carefully pressing a small kiss to your forehead before reverting back to his original position.

“For now, just know that I love you too.”

The intolerable throbbing sensation in your temples caused you to stir in your sleep.

The only events you could recall from last night was being at Jimin’s apartment, playing that stupid card game, and downing the most soju you’ve ever had in one sitting.

It only occurs to you that you’re wrapped in someone’s arms when you open your eyes and the only thing in your periphery is a firm chest, steadily heaving each time they take a breath.

Your legs were messily entangled with theirs—arms slung around each other’s torsos as you felt a strange yet dense weight on the top of your head.

Carefully, you try to pry yourself from their grasp albeit your haphazard state of mind. You pull back ever so slightly, making sure not to wake them up in the process, discovering that the excess weight was actually their chin that had been resting on top of your head. Their fingers were still twined in your hair as you pulled back, making you freeze in your spot. Curious, you tilt your head, peering upwards and catching a glimpse of their face.

The boy is undoubtedly still asleep. Eyes shut and ample lips slightly parted. Your timid movement, to your luck, which hadn’t phased him in the slightest, as he was unperceptive and nearly immobile at this point.

If it weren't for your abhorrent headache and the even more abhorrent symptoms that had rooted from your hangover, it would be an understatement to say that you would be freaking out right about now. In reality,

You'd be in a complete state of manic.

Because of the fact that your body was paying for the despicable amount of alcohol you had decided to consume the night before, an influx of any intense emotion would cause your body to exacerbate itself even more. And the last thing you needed was to puke all over the poor guy after sleeping together for the first time.

While you were physically experiencing withdrawals, your mind felt slightly inebriated nonetheless. You weren't quite sure if it was from last night's affluence of liquor or the way everything's starting to come back to you. And the longer your eyes linger on the boy's face, the clearer everything starts to become. From the foolish banter to your childish outbursts leading up to your intoxicated yet conscientious confession.

You left your heart all out for him to witness last night, and now the only thing you could do is wait for a response.

Taking a deep sigh, you retreat back to his body—deciding not to ponder any longer on the matter and wait until you had felt physically capable of doing so.

Steaming hot streams of water splash against his back. He stands under the shower head while massaging soap into his hair, replaying the events that had happened last night on loop.

The words that left your mouth were engraved into his mind as they involuntarily kept replaying over and over again—particularly your inebriated confession, which kept garnering the same reaction of both hope and frustration within him.

The solution should be simple. In reality it is, yet he still felt so internally scattered.

“—he doesn’t see me in that light nor will he ever...”

That was the singular line that he just couldn’t wrap his head around. There was never a moment where he would hesitate to drop everything he was doing to be there for you and make sure you were okay.

Yes, he knew that you two were best friends and that it was natural. But what best friend drives across town at 2am because you had the stomach flu and your parents were out of town. Keep in mind it was his mom’s birthday that day.

What best friend ditches their prom date when yours had stood you up. Or coax the drama teacher into giving you the lead in the school play because he saw the ways your eyes glimmered when you saw the words ‘High School Musical’. And damn, weren’t you justthe greatest Gabriella he’s ever seen.

Little did you know that in reality, he always wanted you to be the Gabriella to his Troy, and not Chad. Yet you seemed to have believed the latter all along.

But in the end, what the hell kind of best friend remains oblivious to the fact that for years, past exes have consistently broken up with him for the same reason.

“Your heart belongs to someone else.”

Or alternatively,

“I’m not the right person for you.”

Straight A’s don’t mean shit when no teacher has ever taught him how to realize that he was irrevocably in love with his best friend, and that she had always, almost candidly, felt the same way.

He shuts his eyes tightly, hands aggressively running through his soaked hair as he comes to a conclusion.

Being strangers could never be an option. Being friends, or moreso, best friends was fine. But that’s it. It was just fine. It was normalcy. It has been for years.

And that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore.

Your arm traces along the fabric of the bedsheets, alerting you that there was a void of space and lack of warmth from the other side of the bed. Your eyes spring open to see that there was no one laying beside you.

A long yawn escapes your lips as you stretch your limbs, body sprawling all over the bed before selfishly tugging the sheets all to yourself.

Soft hissing from which you assume was coming from his shower was confirmed to be true when your eyes spot the closed bathroom door and the small beam of light that was emitting from it.

A small, folded piece of paper that was taking up the space of where his head was resting was where your eyes shift to next.

y/n <3

You knit your brows together, knowing that it was most likely put there strategically rather than a piece of trash that had slipped out of his pocket.

It was addressed to you after all and so you grab it while making a futile attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your throbbing headache and churning insides had significantly died down. Regardless of your recovery time you internally make a promise to yourself to never get this wasted ever again. The chances of you sticking to it? Highly debatable considering the current situation you’re in.

Blinking rapidly, you finally are able to decipher whatever is written onto the paper. And it says:

hi y/n, i can already tell by the looks that you’re giving me that you already despise this game and im sorry. all i wanna say is that by the time you read this, i hope that we remain close as ever even though what i plan on saying tonight could obliterate all of that. i wanted to play this game bc i know we’re both hiding stuff from each other and it’s about time we get it out. at least for me. whatever happens, i love you. always will.

- chim :)

EDIT: for fuck’s sake y/n i’m FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU TOO I WAS SUPPOSED TO CONFESS TO U FIRST LOSER NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND T-T

“Finally awake?” You hear a familiar voice call out. He walks out of the bathroom, fully clothed (to your dismay) while drying his hair with a towel, eyes immediately softening as they connect with yours.

You swallow down your nerves, “Yeah, I’ve been.”

He walks over to the edge of the bed, eyes shifting to the piece of paper in your hand before reverting his focus back to your face, “What are you reading there?”

“I don’t know,” you huff, feigning ignorance, “why don’t you tell me.”

A soft chortle leaves his lips as he throws the towel to the side, smiling as wide as ever as he jumps onto the vacant spot on his bed right next to you.

Propping himself up, he sits against the headboard, letting out a content sigh before looking down at you once more. “Come here.” He says, reaching his arms out in hopes that you’d fill the idle gap.

And you do, shaking the sheets off of your body as you place yourself in his arms, freshly revelling in the comfort. You wrap your arms snugly around his waist, letting your head rest on his chest while he clutches onto you tightly.

“I’m sorry for pushing the subject so hard onto you last night.” He starts off with, “I guess I just never fathomed the fact that you could return the feeling, and I was too stubborn to even admit it to you in the first place.” He expresses while stroking your back, “I didn’t mean to confront you so harshly, it’s unlike me, and I’m really sorry about it Y/N.”

“Do you think I’m mad about that Jimin?” You inquire, just barely above a whisper.

He pulls back slightly, peering down at you, “Are you?”

“Of course not. I should be the one apologizing anyways for being even more stubborn and resorting to such childish ways.” You disclose whilst mentally beating yourself up.

“Hey, there’s no use in beating ourselves up over it. Look where we are now.”

“Where exactly are we Jimin?” You inquire timidly, head still resting on his chest.

His fingers brush over the base of your chin, gently tilting your head up until your eyes found his.

“Y/N, it’s honestly hard for me to formulate the words but all I know is that I think I’m in love with you. And I think I have been for a long time, no scratch that, I have been for a long time,” he says all in one breath, making you smile at how high-strung he was acting.

The grin remains plastered onto your face, “I’m not drunk still right because did I just hear you say that you’ve been in love with me?”

“Y/N…” he whines, jutting out his bottom lip as he drags out the last syllable of your name.

You can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Go on please.”

He bites his lip, “I honestly had a whole speech prepared in the shower but I forgot all of it.”

“It’s alright, I barely remember half the stuff I spewed out last night,” you chortle.

He chuckles, “Well, if you were wondering, you’re cute as fuck when you’re piss drunk.”

The compliment makes your breath hitch in your throat—your heart starting to pick up speed dangerously quick.

A few seconds pass, allowing you to slightly gain back some of your composure, “Why did you um– I mean– when do you think you fell in love with me?” You stutter.

“I was actually trying to figure that out too,” he starts, “in the shower. Well, this is going to sound dumb,” he admits, sharply exhaling out of his nose, “But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time.”

“I think so… but what about it?”

He nods. “I still remember that night so vividly for some reason,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “There were haunted houses all over the park. And they were all different themes. And I think the first one we went into together was—”

“The clown one.” You deadpan.

“Yeah!” He beams, laughing at the way you shudder after your words, “Anyways, you were walking behind me with your hands on my shoulders, but you had a razor grip and I thought my arms were going to fall off, so I made you walk next to me instead. We had our arms interlocked and you were gripping onto me so closely and you had your head buried in my shoulder the whole time.” He explains, the smile never ceasing to leave his lips.

You don’t take his eyes off of him—smiling sweetly as he explains the retrospective moment that you never knew had held so much significance to him.

“All of a sudden, you grabbed my hand, and honestly, I think that was the scariest part of the whole experience,” he admits, chuckling softly.

“But then I intertwined fingers with you. And I liked it. Thinking about it now, I probably loved it. It felt almost borderline euphoric. Like as if I was riding a high, and when we detached hands, it felt like there was just something missing. And I guess I never really put the pieces together because it just became a normal thing after that. And when our skinship kept evolving from there, I just kept dismissing it over and over again. Like as if that feeling was a normal thing to happen between friends, because I genuinely thought it was. Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.” He finishes, giving you a close-mouthed smile while he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Astounded was an understatement. You couldn’t believe that you both had been suppressing these feelings for so long. Yet somehow, this whole confession didn’t seem out of place or time, it was as if everything that had happened beforehand had led up to this very moment.

“Wow, Jimin I– I don’t know what to say.” You reply.

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to say anything Y/N. I’m sorry for making you wait for so long, after all.”

You interject, “Please don’t say sorry, I think we were definitely both in the wrong here.”

He smiles, except this time his eyes crinkle up all the way, “Alright, but can you at least let me make it up to you?”

“I’m listening.” You jokingly reply.

“Let’s go on a date,” he declares brazenly, “but tonight, after we’ve recovered from our hangovers and what not.”

The corners of your lips upturn so high that your cheekbones sting, “Jimin, I’d love to–”

“Ah, wait! I’m not done.” He cuts you off, head inching forward, leaning in so close that you could feel his breath tickle your ear and the heat rushing up to your cheeks.

“And at the very end of the night, I’ll make certain that you won’t be able to walk normally by tomorrow.” He whispers into your ear— voice low and full of lust.

Shivers run through your body as it feels like all the wind had just gotten knocked out of you. Yeah, this was definitely worth the wait.

MASTERLIST ; SEQUEL

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sinsetcurve · 4 years ago

Text

JATP FIC RECS

Oneshots-

All Those Little Moments- A series of the individual, chronological threads that make up the tapestry of the love of Julie and Luke.

It’s Always Been You (Even if it’s fake)- Julie Molina is not an idiot. She’s insanely smart and extremely talented. But, she does tend to do idiotic things. The most idiotic being telling her family that she's dating Luke Patterson and is bringing him home for spring break.

Ray and Rose and that Guy Trevor- Ray's POV on Rose's friendship with Trevor, through the years. (In which Trevor is kind of guilty but also kind of innocent.)

Head Over Knees- That one time Alex had an existential crisis over his knees.

Wrap Me Up- Julie is absolutely miserable. She’s caught a nasty flu and is so busy pretending to be fine that she’s totally pushed away everyone who could be taking care of her. Luckily Luke is more than prepared to step in.

Promises Kept- This is a missing scene from the fic We Found Wonderland. You need to read that first to really understand what's going on here. This cover's Luke's reactions to major events towards the end of We Found Wonderland.

I’m Still Breathing- Julie has asthma and when he was alive Reggie did, too. So, Reggie helps her out and cements himself as her big brother.

I’ll Love you There, Too- In her heart, Julie knew that Luke was going to propose eventually, she just didn’t know that it would be so soon, or how nervous he really was to do it.

This Hurt that I’m Holding’s Gettin’ Heavy-When Carlos got home from school Tuesday afternoon, he wasn’t expecting to find one of Julie’s bandmates in his bedroom, studying his bookshelf.

Come Again Bright Days- Julie and Luke haven’t spoken since they graduated from high school. But one night during their senior year of college, they find themselves in the exact same bar for the exact same reason: they were dragged there by their friends in an attempt to make them feel better after their respective break ups.

But Suddenly from somewhere out of the blue, I see a different light around you- Julie and Luke, family friends, end up sick together. While cooped up sick at Julie’s, a little conversation leads to a lot of secrets.

Like You Could Love Me- Julie hadn't slept in almost 48 hours. Luke was waiting for her on the porch when she gets home. Exhaustion + unspoken feelings and things are about to get interesting.

Not So Secret Relationship- Alex and Willie have been secretly dating for about a month and they've had yet to tell their friends about it. Alex decided he's finally ready to come clean to them.

There’s one thing on my mind- home didn't seem like home anymore for luke patterson, and so he was desperate to find a new place to write music. after an especially brutal fight with his mother, he finds himself in front of l.a. books. he isn't expecting to get much out of it, it was solely a last resort. but then he sees her, julie molina, and he ends up coming back every week just to keep seeing her. bookstore au

I’m Gonna pop some tags- Alex thinks working at Julie's family's thrift shop over the summer is going to be a good way to make money while also hanging out with his friends. Good. Easy. Fun. He isn't prepared for the skater who ran him over to be Ray's new hire.

Always- Luke is in love with Julie, and she loves him too. But it's not meant to be, he's been dead 25 years and she has a whole life to live. He wants to know why they can't just rewrite the stars, and eventually she finds a way.

He’s a little into it- Willex Hockey AU where Willie and Alex are on opposite teams.

Do a Kickflip!-It's Spring 1995, and Julie wants to spend some time at the new skate park. Unbeknownst to her, five boys are waiting to turn her summer (and life) for the better. Or! 5 times Julie ran into Sunset Curve, and 1 time she met with them intentionally.

Multi-Chaptered-

This is Where I want to Be- Luke is going through heaven and hell in his life and things take a turn when a especial someone drops unannounced into his life making him question his sanity. OR: Luke has a wicked beauty as his guardian angel and loses his mind

I’ve Got This Crazy Feeling This Isn’t our First Time Around- One second he is rocking the night away, the next he wakes up bloodied and battered in an alleyway. Found by a frantic curly-haired girl, he comes to realise nothing makes sense. He doesn't know where he is, who she is or how he got there, but one thing's for sure: It's not 1995 anymore.

Walk a Mile in my Doodled Shoes-The one where the boys use their newfound possession abilities to help Julie out of jams.

If I was you (I’d wanna be me too)- When Carrie wakes up, the morning after Julie and the Phantoms play the Orpheum, her father is gone. When her father has a breakdown, Carrie is forced to move in with Julie's family, and must confront some uncomfortable truths - about her family, her life, and herself. A house full of ghosts just comes with the package.

Time Of Our Lives- Alex, Reggie and Luke have been given an unexpected new chance at life. Will they fulfil their dreams this time?

We Found Wonderland- At the end of season one Julie isn’t able to save the boys and they are jolted out of existence. But what if there was another way? Julie finds herself back in 1995 with a chance to stop the boys of Sunset Curve from ever dying at all. But will she able to find her way home afterwards? Will she want to? Or has Alice really gone down the rabbit hole this time...

Midnight at Mona’s- Julie Molina expected many things on her impromptu road trip to Texas. She expected Flynn to be confused but ultimately supportive; she expected to relax and gain a new perspective; and she expected (or at least hoped) to rediscover the music she’d lost over the past year. What she did not expect was to be bunking with cranky rancher Luke Patterson, or the mysterious (and quite possibly magical) karaoke bar that would lead them on an adventure full of new friends, dangerous enemies, fun music, and a whole lot of love.

How Wonderful Life is While You’re in the World- Red, White & Royal Blue but Willex.

Our Life is a Playlist- They were best friends, they were family, and Julie had come to believe that they were soulmates. By the time the kids had turned thirteen, life had started teaching them the hardest lessons.

That’s Life- Julie Molina feels invisible most of the time. So what happens when she finds herself unexpectedly "married" to her handsome, popular, longtime-crush, Luke Patterson? She is about to find out. When she and Luke are randomly paired up to work on a project together for their Reproductive Health class, they have to learn to navigate the world of adulthood side-by-side for better or worse. All while dealing with the reality and drama of high school. Julie quickly discovers she's not as invisible as she once thought she was, especially to Luke. Does extra time spent together mean sparks will finally fly between them, or will it all go up in flames?

Don’t forget to support authors by commenting on their works

#please read tags #please comment on these fics!!!#and check out my first rec post. if you guys like these ones you can send requests for fics or even request another list #let me know if there are any mistakes in this list #please tag the authors on here if you know their accounts :)#support the authors!#julie molina #Reggie peters #flynn jatp #alex mercer #ray molina #jatp #julie and the phantoms #carrie wilson #luke patterson #willex #juke

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mckinnon-mp4 · 4 years ago

Text

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter: 4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster.

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings.

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky, no one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place.

He didn’t have time to think about the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to put all of that out of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time.

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack.

“Sirius–”

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection.

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.”

“Remus was saying that some of the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked.

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?”

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he needed to start acting like it.

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground.

“Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–”

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded.

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future. We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.”

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned.

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation.

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite. Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time.

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can.

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change.

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.”

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus.

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad.

“No, I would suggest you start over.”

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior.

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

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gra-sonas · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I hate to ask this, you already do so much for us! But would you mind just a tiny recap of Vlamis’ live from last night? You don’t have to go into a ton of detail or anything, I just saw that it was a half hour long. I have a weird anxiety thing that keeps me from watching lives and stories for the most. Still haven’t even been able to work myself up to watching the vlamburn one as much as I’d love to! 🙁

Either way, thank you for everything!

Okay, nonnie. I went and watched the whole thing again and wrote you a detailed account of what’s been said. I’ll link the live again, then you can watch here if you want to. Or not. Up to you. 🤗 Hope this helps. 💕

youtube

Brushing his teeth and flossing for 3 minutes while talking.

800 new follower lately “where have you been before?”

“Do you do anything to your hair at night?” He adds Moroccan hair oil in the morning, nothing at night.

“What’s your favorite of the drop?” He hasn’t seen everything from the drop (like the COSMIC tie-dye) bc he’s in Santa Fe. He loves the COSMIC and MALEX embroidered things (“so subtle”) bc they are in Vlamburn’s handwriting, he loves the Manesqueeze shirt bc you can make Alex and Michael kiss by putting your wrists together. He *loves* the candle (there’s one burning on his bedside table), the silky PJs are great, but he can’t decide on just one favorite thing.

“How’s Jesa’s sanity?” She needs like 3 weeks of sleep. He explains, that while we *are* the Vlambase, the Vlambase merch company’s just Jesa and Vlamis. Jesa has a team, but all the day-to-day things, ideas, emails/customer service (Jesa), the newsletter (Vlamis). They hadn’t collaborated with anyone before Tyler, so working with him was a new experience.

One fan mentions how they wanted to buy stuff but couldn’t. Vlamis says that he’s been there, and when he wanted something in the past he couldn’t afford, he started putting away a Dollar a day.

“Thought on One Direction?” Vlamis is a Harry Styles guy. “Harry Styles’ swagger is next level!”

“What do you think about Russia? Will Vlambase merch be available here?” Talks a bit about how annoying things are with shipping companies, says they wanted to protect themselves for the holidays, and now that the Christmas rush is over, some shipping options have become available again.

“Who came up with MANESQUEEZE” He ponders about it, and settles on Jesa. It was Vlamis’s ides to put tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves so that they can kiss tho. And Tyler came up with the idea to put a “toupee” on his head (in a previous drop, the NEVER LOOK AWAY design had tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves, but poor Alex was bald) for the design.

Someone got a MALEX pin and the candle. He knows the pin sold out fast, and he feels bad about that. They want everyone to get everything they want, but it’s difficult to make proper calculations how well an item will sell. The pandemic made things even harder. Like the PJ sets. Normally, they would wait until the sale ends and see how many sets were actually ordered, but during the pandemic, stock listings have been changing dramatically from day to day, so they had to pre-order the PJs and robes to make sure they had a certain number at their disposal. He said that they “overshot” on a couple of things, but ultimately sales have been great, and he appreciates that.

“I’m excited to make the MANESQUEEZE doodles kiss bc I do that with the NEVER LOOK AWAY shirt” Vlamis jumps up and shows his closet that’s full of Vlambase merch items.

“Why am I here, it’s almost 3am” He mentions that he’s been staying up until 4 in the past couple of days, but he has to be on set in 7 or 8 hours.

“Hello, just wanted to let you know that I got a tattoo for you” Vlamis asks for a photo and to be tagged.

“Kyle the packer [Vlamis’s roomie KA, who works in the warehouse when a new drop is ready for shipping]” Vlamis says they’re working him to death.

“Please save this live” He doesn’t know whether he’ll save it. Thinks the one with Tyler was important, but since it’s just him, he doesn’t think it’s important.

“I followed Jesa, Jesa is the real MVP” Vlamis says that Jesa is “a beast, and best in the game”. Quickly explains who Jesa is, and that she’s his partner in the Vlambase merch company. He mentions that she recently called him with an idea for Valentine’s Day, and he was like “Jesa, we need to relax!” But she loved the idea. She’s a big fan of RNM and the characters (and Tyler). “Jesa’s amazing.”

“What about new Soli art [Soli’s the artist who created the Boys Will Be Boys art for a previous drop]?” Vlamis smiles. “What about new Soli art. I like that idea. 😏“

“Your house [in New Mexico] is so cute.” Vlamis says thank you and shows the ceiling of the house (which he likes best). “Santa Fe is dope!”

“I adore your teeth” *shows his teeth* Says he had to wear braces (some even adjustable)

“I could’ve used my birthday money to buy something but I forgot” 🤨 << Vlamis��s face. “How you you forget, man?”

“Back to Twitter after this live” He mentions that he’d just been on Twitter before the live.

He got retweeted by Mountain Dew and loves it.

“I’m from Australia and hope my merch arrives before winter” Vlamis says he hopes shipping will be fast.

“Love the Valentines” They’re not actually Valentines, hence they’re “Love Notes”. Vlamis considers doing them not just around Valentine’s Day.

“You catch any of the CW shows returning this month?” “Might have to” But he knows what he’ll be catching on the 12th. “Prodigal Son, baby!”

“Where did you get the Game Boys?” Those are his Game Boys. He has a Game Boy Advanced and a Game Boy Color.

“How do you feel about Forlex?” *scoffs* 😒 “Yeah”

“So excited for the robe!” Vlamis gets excited. “The robes and the PJs are so comfy!” Talks about how it’s a bit weird, bc they don’t make them themselves.

Several people mention that their closet looks like his closet bc of all the merch and he loves that.

“How do you feel about Forlex” *gets agitated* “Why are you asking me this? Don’t do that to me, alright?” *softer* “Don’t do that.”

“How are you doing?” He’s doing very well. Very relieved that eh sale went well. This drop was like 3-4 months of work, the night before the sale felt like an entire month, too. Jesa and Vlamis Facetimed for more than 5hrs. They set up the website, and that’s how the glitch with the GIVE ME MALEX OR GIVE ME DEATH shirts and poster happened. They made a mistake and only noticed after the website went live.

“Do you know when S3 will air?” No, he thought it might’ve been sooner, but apparently not.

“I love your poetry from the last drop so why no poems this time?” He writes poems when he’s inspired, he hasn’t written a poem in a while. He’s currently preparing to direct his first movie in June 2021, and he’s been very focused on that.

“The Meet & Greet day changed.” Filming schedule changed bc they had snow, the schedule’s changing constantly. He’ll be set all day tomorrow (well, today, Jan 11) from 8am until 8 or 9pm. Sometimes they might even wake up in the morning and learn that the schedule’s been changed.

“You could talk about nothing and we’d still watch.” He doesn’t want to talk about nothing, wonders if anyone has any questions about the sale.

“I’m so excited about the robe. I was going to buy more but I’m broke.” He says we should be responsible.

Someone’s still waiting about their Black Friday stuff, but he says it’s the shipping company, not them.

“Vlamentines" He *loves* that, thinks it’s a good pun.

“Gotta support Aurora.” Always. 🥰

“Jealous Guerin in S3?” You’ll see, you’ll see.

“I placed 3 orders, last one last night. Give me Malex or give me death.” He loves it. He also mentions, that they’re working hard on figuring out how to combine orders in the future so people don’t have to pay for shipping several times. They just can’t do that logistically at the moment.

“Real talk, how often do you check your DMs?” He says, that some people might’ve noticed that he occasionally likes random photos on people’s IG pages. When that happens, it’s a sign that he read someone’s DM. He feels bad when he checks his mentions with a delay, and people’s stories have already vanished after 24hours. He sometimes doesn’t get to checking DMs for a week.

“Will we ever get the original pic of the kiss recreation?” *smiles* *waggles his eyebrows* “Maybe in the morning”

“So happy the Trevor Project was chosen for this merch drop!” He’s very happy, too. According to him, it was a no-brainer. Tyler’s worked with them in the past, so it made even more sense. They wanted to make sure that Tyler felt very strongly about wherever they’d be donating.

People urge him to go to sleep. “You want me to go to bed?”

“Why is your merch not available in India?” *deep breath* “It should be, it’s ridiculous. Unbelievable.”

“Your poetry was awesome.” He appreciates the praise and promises to write some more poetry.

Someone asks whether the movie he’ll be directing in June will be a comedy, but he says it’s the opposite. He’s mentioned in the past that Aurora and him will both act in the movie, but apparently he forgot about that. He doesn’t want to jinx the movie and doesn’t know how much he should reveal just yet. Talks a bit about 5 Years Apart.

Someone mentions that it’s Jeanine’s birthday on January 14th.

“Do (or don?) a face mask, Vlamis.” He refuses. Mentions his friend and roommate Spencer Waldner, who makes face masks.

“If there’s leftover merch, will you do another sale?” He says that most things are actually sold out bc they use Blank Clo’s blanks and will only make what’s been ordered. They might try to restock some pins tho, bc they went so quickly.

“USPS are a joke” He defends them. “They’re a public service, they’re trying hard, guys.”

“You should do a Vlambase drop with the Real Vlamis [a.k.a. Jeanie]” He’s excited and thinks it’s a good idea and asks if anyone’d be interested.

Someone congratulates him on directing his first movie. He points out that he’s directed before (Making It, a 3-part web series, it’s on YouTube).

“Would you ever come to Australia Comic Con?” He’d love to. Mentions that he’s supposed to be in Paris in May for a convention, but he’s not sure whether that’s gonna happen considering how things are currently going with the pandemic.

Some more talk about 5 Years Apart.

Circles back to doing a merch drop with Jeanine. People like the idea.

“Please save this live.” After an IG update, things have changed and he doesn’t know how to do it. In the past he had the option to save it [for 24hrs], now he can only upload it to IGTV.

“$30 shipping to Australia hurts my soul but I did it anyway.” He appreciates that and mentions, that he lived in Australia for 6 months in the past.

“Sing some Bright Eyes” He thinks his singing would hurt people’s ears.

Jesa Joy pops up in the chat and urges him to go to bed.

“Jesa is yelling at you.” Vlamis says that Jesa’s a “yeller”, and that she has a tattoo that says “Don’t yell tho”. He admits that Jesa often yells for a good reason. “I need to be yelled at sometimes.”

Someone asks him to accept a request to join his live. He says he’s pretty tired.

He says hello to someone from Germany (not me btw :P) “What’s up, Germany ✌️”

More people ask him to sing, but he says he cannot sing. He says it’s not like a joke or him being modest, he straight up can’t sing and is a horrible singer.

“Will there be a sequel to 5 Years Apart?” Maybe a sequel called “10 Years Apart” (he’s joking and visibly tired)

“Should I buy anything before the sale ends?” Yes.

Jesa Joy’s from Michigan, and Vlamis’s grandma’s from Middlesborough, Kentucky.

“Is Tyler singing again?” He doesn’t know. “I hope so. Love that kid’s voice” (Tyler’s 3.5 years older than Vlamis :P)

He’s getting sleepy and will read a little bit before bed. Considers drinking some Mountain Dew.

“Do you take design ideas.” Sure. Sometimes he sees design ideas from people they’ve been working on for months, but he’s gonna “steal” an idea from someone, he’ll tell them. He’ll steal it, though.

“Are you still reading SAGA?” He read the first one and is half-way through the second. He’s currently reading a book called “My First Movie” by Stephen Lowenstein. “How cliché.” Aurora got it for him.

Purple Skittles are his favorite. Purple everything.

“Your girlfriend’s the best girlfriend.” She is, she really is.

Asks Jesa Joy whether he should go to bed now.Even though it’s late, he’s hungry. Considers eating something. People tell him to go to bed.

He asks “Should I get naked and put on the PJs?” *waggles eyebrows* “I’M KIDDING, YOU’RE SICK. YOU’RE ALL DISGUSTING.” xD

“Don’t eat!” He laughs.

Says goodbye and says that Jesa’s posted a surprise picture.

“Any advice for aspiring actors?” Tells them to make their own stuff bc no one’s gonna hire them. (He’s being sarcastic). “It’s dark, but it’s what you need to hear.”

“Okay, love you guys. Thank you again! It was our best sale yet. Means a lot to me. Means a lot to Tyler. Us doing so well might mean that Tyler will work with us again. So I really appreciate it. Okay, I love you all.”

Jesa promises to post the pic in 4 minutes. He’s excited. “See, I got her to do it! The picture is kind of ridiculous.”

*pretends to take off his shirt, stops halfway through* “Noooooo, noooooo, noooooo!”

*throws kiss* “Love you guys, good night.”

#michael vlamis #vlambase #mgv ig #mgv interviews #nonnie asks

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themusingsofafangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Tutor

Characters: V (DMC5) x Reader (Gender neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of drugs.

Word count: 1597 words.

Credits: all gif belongs rightfully to the creator.

ModernAU. High school.

V is assigned to mentor you by your teacher as you were falling behind in studies.

It’s half past 2 in the afternoon and you were sitting in the detention room staring outside the window feeling dead bored. Failing in school was not really a problem you cared so much about at the moment because you had other pressing matters to deal every day you leave the school grounds like how to make money to pay the bills and put food on the table for you and your younger sister. But the sob story of your broken family background was now a thing of the past and all you care about is how to survive. No one knows you lived the way you do. You did not have close friends but you were not so lonely either in school. You stand on the fence of isolation and popularity, dancing on it carefully ensuring you do not fall on either side for the sake of your sanity and protection.

“___” a voice calls your name.

You look up and notice your classmate V was standing in front of you with a bag on his shoulder. You wear an expressionless façade, rendering a nonchalant vibe about the whole mentor-mentee attempt of the academia saving you from failing in school. The boy then takes a seat in front of you and starts pulling out books and stationeries. You noticed the fingerless gloves in his hands and realising that he always wears them no matter what outfit he wore. You heard from other students that he wore them due to an accident and he was trying to hide his scars. He also almost never wore any outfit that was short sleeved. Your curiousness also tells you otherwise because you noticed a few black lines traced up to his fingertips. He has a tattoo, I bet for sure. You thought.

“We don’t have to do this, V” you said with arms crossed.

V pauses from flipping the pages of the textbooks and stares at you. Suddenly he lets out a scoff, “Do you think, I wanted this as well?” he says.

You grabbed your bag and stood up, “Well then we should just stop before we start and save ourselves time,” and turned to leave.

“Wait.” V grabs your wrist to stop you.

You look down at your hands and tried to pry them off from him, but he keeps them firm.

“You and I are one and the same. We don’t want to be here but we have to. If it’s too much to ask, let’s just pretend to have you study. They’re watching me.” V explains.

You scrutinised your eyes at first after hearing him say that. They’re watching me. What does he mean by that? You thought to yourself. You looked at V and noticed his eyes was signalling something; his eyes quickly looked to the right and you caught on. You looked to your right and noticed your homeroom teacher was watching you both from the door.

Yo, creepy much? You thought to yourself again.

“Okay Mr. Poet. Let’s play pretend. With my conditions. Firstly, you’ll tutor me like how you should. But I’m not going to give a damn about a word you say. Agreed?” you proposed to him.

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “AND!” you suddenly interrupted,

“You have to tell me, why is the academic board watching you.”

His mouth hung open when he heard this proposal as his brows began to form a knot in between his forehead. “Fine, ____. So long I can save myself from trouble.”

You both came to an agreement. The first lesson he tutored you was on World History. You let him rant on explaining to you about the Great Depression, and the Korean War while you were pretending to listen, you were doodling on your notebook and creating little sketches of things that comes to your mind randomly. Three weeks passed and V was still tutoring you. However, whenever the teachers from the Academic Board leaves the detention room both of you relaxed a little and drop the charade. During times like this, V and you would have a small chat on everything else except studies. You learnt a lot about him; his favourite music, season, his pet peeves and noticed that he was not too different than you at all. Though, one has been itching in your mind since the day he first tutored you,

They’re watching me

“V, you haven’t told me yet.” You spoke up. Your friend stopped whistling Claire de Lune and looked at you confused.

“Told you what?” he asked.

“Why they watching you for?”

He sat up straight and placed both his elbows on the table, his hands perched under his chin.

“Yours truly, is on the verge of expulsion.” He sighs.

“Expulsion? A kid like you? No way.” You replied.

“Yes. Well, I was framed that’s all I know,”

“Framed? By who?” you asked.

“I don’t know, but I was framed for supplying ‘the good stuff’ in school.” He answered. “Only your homeroom teacher believed I didn’t do such a thing.”

“Miss Fayeman?”

“Yup. So, she gathered all the members of the Academic Board and told them that if I manage to tutor you to pass this term, then it proves that I’m no dealer.” He added on.

You sat there confused and in disbelief that a man like him would do such a thing because based on your observation, you damn well knew that V would not go that low to do such a thing in school. He has his pride and his motivation to achieve and drugs were out of the question entirely.

“And that is why ____, I need you to pass this term.” he says quietly.

You felt guilty after hearing his plead; but you did not want to show him your emotions. You too had your pride and image to maintain so you just looked elsewhere instead of him.

“I have to go,” you said. You packed all your things and rushed out immediately after that. You knew that you were the weakest in your class in terms of academics but you felt ashamed that someone else with other problems was dragged into yours just to help you clean up your act. You were out of mood the entire day, so much so that your sister left you a piece of Twinkie in front of your door. After going through some thinking, you decided that you wanted to help V clean his name. You still put up with the charade after school hours with him when he tutors you under the watchful eyes of the teachers, but when you got back home, you would recall all that he explained and revise them again in your room – the constant burning of the midnight oil even put a strain on your shoulders and back from slouching at the study table too long.

Exam season came, and you were ready to ace everything. V doesn't say much on that day, but the look on his face somewhat shows that he did not expect too much from you. You still kept your act; pretending to be unbothered about studies. When the results came, your homeroom teacher called you and V into the office.

“My, my.” Miss Fayeman says. “Looks like no one is getting expelled.”

V and you shared the same expression of confusion.

“Here, look for yourself.” Miss Fayeman added and pushed a slip of paper towards the both of you from across her table. You both scooted closer to the table and eyed the results carefully. Every single one of the subjects either had an A- or A on it and lastly the commentary from the Principal down below wrote,

Extraordinary improvement. Congratulations. Keep it up.

When the both of you left Miss Fayeman’s office, you held onto your result sheet and bolted out of the school building leaving V behind. You did not know what to feel. You could not believe that you actually studied to save a friend of yours whom you suddenly had feelings for from expulsion.

“___, wait!” he shouted and chased after you.

You ran out of the school building and made your way to the football field. You climbed up the bleachers and just sat yourself there, gasping for air. Not knowing how to react to everything that just happened. V made his way to where you were too, panting for air in his frail looking body. The poet made his way up to where you sat and crashed on one of the seats beside you.

“Jesus.” He exclaims. “What is wrong with you?”

You were still panting, but a smile slowly grows on your face. You felt like you have won the lottery – but most importantly, you saved someone from being expelled.

“V,” you said.

“Yeah?” he answers still gasping for air and cooling down his pulse.

“Would you come with me to homecoming?” you suddenly proposed.

“W-wha-“

“Homecoming, silly. I want you to be my date.” You said.

“I- uh. Yeah sure,” he says wearing a look that leaves him so puzzled.

“You and I are one and the same, indeed.” You added.

You got up from the bleachers and wanted to walk away, but V stops you from doing so by holding your hand and turning you around to give you a kiss. This caught you by surprised but you guess that your feelings for him was valid and mutual. He lets go from the kiss, smiling as he says,

“Joy is my name, - Sweet joy befall thee.”

“Blake, oh, Blake,” you said and pulls him in for a kiss again.

#vitale #v #dmc5 #v x reader #vitale x reader #devil may cry #devilmaycry5 #dmcv #vdmc #oneshotwednesdays

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thegrimmgrimm · 5 years ago

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oh im sorry did you think i was done with this?? 😂😂 https://thegrimmgrimm.tumblr.com/post/620532449904132096/an-idea-bouncing-around-in-my-head-for-the-last

Fair (I'll Stand Here With You)

Jaskier lets himself into the apartment, loudly declaring his entrance, and fairly sure he's left the two lovebirds enough time to finish up their morning celebrations. (Which he is certain will have involved pancakes, and copious amounts of maple syrup and whipped cream.)

Thankfully for his sanity, it appears he's correct in the assumption. He hears Yennefer call him into the kitchen where she stands nursing a fresh cup of tea, hair still damp from the shower and frame dwarfed in an obviously stolen shirt. Jaskier can't see any more of her from behind the counter, but he has to imagine that's all there is to the outfit. She gives him a lazy grin and a wink as greeting

Behind her, Geralt is quietly swearing at their perpetually-broken coffee machine and mumbling about infernal machines, wearing nothing but the most colourful pair of unicorn-patterned boxers Jaskier has ever seen. He turns to greet Jaskier with his own warm boneless-seeming smile and Jaskier can't help but laugh affectionately at the pair.

"Do you two still need a bit longer? I can go for a walk around the block and come back later?" Jaskier teases, watching Yen roll her eyes and Geralt huff out a silent laugh. Geralt just pushes a steaming cup of coffee across the counter towards him, looking fond and exasperated already.

"So, year number five, eh? I, for one, am pleasantly surprised you two haven't managed to kill each other by now." It's Geralt's turn to roll his eyes at the line, but he's well versed in Jaskier's style of affection by now.

"What are we in for this time, Jaskier? More maudlin tunes to send us to sleep?" Yennefer asks, though the fondness in her expression takes the bite from her words.

Jaskier puts a hand to his heart in mock-horror. "Yennefer, you wound me. I have it from a good source you love all my songs."

Yennefer eyes him skeptically, then turns a suspicious eye on Geralt, who is suddenly very interested in the coffee machine again.

The three of them polish off their drinks whilst catching up around the kitchen counter, and soon enough Jaskier finds himself ushering his dearest friends into the living room to sit over on the couch.

He sets himself up on their sturdy coffee table, one leg tucked under him that he knows will fall asleep before he is finished but can never bring himself to care. Yen and Geralt sit watching him with the expression of school children told to be on their best behaviour.

Jaskier pokes his tongue out them and pulls out his phone to rest on his knee with lyrics he won't need, while they settle themselves down more comfortably and naturally. Yennefer sits forward with her knees tucked under her, and Geralt lounges back against the sofa with an arm thrown around her waist.

Jaskier smiles at them fondly before clearing his throat, "Right, now don't get all judgey-judgey. I've worked hard on this and no, I will not accept criticism."

They just laugh softly and Jaskier shakes off the barest of nerves daring to threaten him. It isn't really stage fright, or anything like that, and nor does he think they would be cruel or mean about it, not really. But Jaskier really has poured his heart into the song, and it'll feel inadequate if they don't end up liking it.

"Right then." Jaskier clears his throat again and starts plucking away at his guitar.

"It's what my heart just yearns to say In ways that can't be said..."

He watches his friends' reactions as he sings the first few lines, though he soon finds himself uncharacteristically overwhelmed by the attention and he looks down sightlessly at the words on his phone screen.

There are lines that draw small sounds of amusement from the two, but mostly they're silent as they watch and listen. Jaskier's eyes drift closed as he holds each line in his mind and tries to focus on keeping his voice steady. Each time he feels his voice strain or crack he fights a wince, as strong emotion threatens to choke his voice away.

There's just something about capturing how Jaskier sees the love between the two, and offering it back to them, raw and bare and honest.

"...Oh how, oh how unreasonable How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do I'll spend my days so close to you cos if I'm stood here Then I'm stood here And I'll stand here I'll stand here with you."

He fades off into a dreadful silence and waits for a moment before looking up, hiding only a little behind a hand he cards nervously through his hair. Yennefer and Geralt are staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"So, it was... good?" He ventures, tension growing in his stomach. He'd expected a much more jovial response, perhaps he'd overstepped? Maybe they're just that impressed. Completely lost for words. Jaskier is confident, but not that confident.

Yen and Geralt turn to look to each other in such synchronicity that Jaskier almost laughs aloud, and they share an indecipherable look before turning back to their long-suffering friend.

It's Yennefer who moves first. She rises from the couch to stand in front of Jaskier and gently takes the guitar from his hands. Confused, he hands it over without complaint, did she not like it? She leans the instrument against the coffee table and her hands come up to cup both sides of Jaskier's face, her expression serious, yet somehow awed.

"Is that truly how you feel?" Her voice carries the same awe as her eyes, and Jaskier swallows round a lump in his throat, unable to answer with more of a jerky nod.

Something alights in her expression and all of a sudden, her hands are sliding back into Jaskier's hair and her mouth is on his mouth and she tastes of too-sweet tea and mint toothpaste and she's kissing him.

She pulls back and it's Jaskier's turn to stare in shocked awe. His traitorous voice remains elusive and his eyes flick to Geralt who looks so astoundingly soft and fond as he also moves forward, brushing his thumb gently across Jaskier's cheekbone, before he also captures Jaskier's lips in a kiss.

It's soft, and hard, and sweet. When he pulls back Jaskier eyes flick back and forth between amber and violet, slowly losing his mind. His hands are clinging to the fabric of his jeans, knuckles white, and he's sure he doesn't even have the leg he's sitting on anymore. "Hm." Jaskier finally manages.

"That's my line," Geralt rumbles back, and it's like the breaking of a dam. Yen's laugh ripples like a river over rocks and Jaskier can't help but join in, even as she pulls him in for another kiss, and Geralts hands pull him up off the table. He stumbles a little on his sleeping leg but is caught and held fast by strong arms. Cheeky ones at that.

Hands tease at the hem his shirt, and there's a mouth attached to either side of his neck, which is lovely, but might also kill him. Finally regaining the use of his hands, Jaskier twines them with one each of Yen and Geralts, briefly halting their fervour.

Jaskier clears his thoughts with the slight shake of his head, but the only discernible thing is, why on earth would you want to stop this? And Jaskier is hardly one to argue with himself, especially on such matters.

He gives an encouraging squeeze to each of the hands grasped in his and nods with a somehow shy and sly smile towards the bedroom door. "Should we, uh...?"

Yennefer's grin is cat-like and almost feral, and the rumbling groan he hears from Geralt is almost enough to make his knees give out, but like so many time before, but also like no other, Jaskier finds himself dragged after these two. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometime later, (Minutes? Hours? Days? Who can say?) Geralt is, predictably, fast asleep, and Jaskier lies tracing meaningless shapes on the soft skin of Yennefer's back with his fingertips.

"So, I take it you liked your gift," Jaskier teases, mouthing softly at her shoulder.

Yennefer preens like a cat, dark curls falling about her shoulders. "Definitely the best one so far."

Jaskier gasps mockingly at her candour and she nudges him away with a laugh, sending him dramatically sprawling backwards, though careful not to wake the sleeping mountain. Yen just scoffs and rolls her eyes at him.

"Though, I'm not sure who out of us really got the better end of it." Yennefer teases back, and her smile turns devious. "We shall just have to endeavour to have you beat next year."

Warmth spreads through Jaskier at the implication, "You're on." He challenges, and he returns to doodling on her back, this time words forming under his quick fingers.

"What are you writing?" Yennefer asks, though she can probably sense the answer.

"Next year's song, of course." Jaskier hears the low rumble of laughter from behind him and Geralt's warm forearm wraps around his waist, stubble scratching between his shoulder blades as Geralt softly presses his face in.

"A hard act to follow," he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. "But I'm sure we'll think of something."

#Geraskefer #Yennskier #Geraskier #The Witcher #modern au #rip my fic apparently yall get 1500 words of fluff instead #ohohoho #happy friyay #enjoy

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queenlists · 5 years ago

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Teacher’s Pet

Summary: Not being a fan of school, the reader never paid much attention in class until the new teacher came in. Not long after, she became a teacher’s pet.

Word Count: 2616

SPN Taglist: @morguleth

A/N: We’re at 148! Almost 150, I’m so excited. Thank you all for the support. I appreciate you all. I made a post about my tag list a little bit ago if you want to be a part of it, shoot me a message!This is a fic involving AU!Professor Dean! WARNINGS: NSFW (18 and older, please), masturbation, sex, cheating, dom Dean, etc. F/N = friend’s name! The masterlist will be at the bottom as always. I really hope you all enjoy this ✌

Post Date: 04/10/2020

Part Two is up!

Doodling in my notebook, I drowned out the noises of the classroom. It was only the first week and there wasn’t anything worth being paid deep attention to. The hustle and bustle of the classroom was overwhelming and this..this was all I could do for the next hour and a half to keep my sanity.

My concentration was interrupted by a slam of the door. Jumping a little bit, I looked up to meet the gaze of a beautiful green eyed stranger. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his as he glided his way to the front of the classroom. Once in front of the class, he lifted himself up onto the desk and put his briefcase right next to him. Taking off his coat, he smiled “I’m Dean Winchester and I’ll be your teacher for the rest of the year!”

His unwavering gaze never left mine as hands rose up, questions waiting to be answered. His pink tongue slowly poked out, licking his lips before pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth. I felt my heart rate speed up as my palms began to sweat. Sucking the air through my teeth, I let out a quiet moan before biting my lip back at him. With a big smile, he ended our gaze and began to interact with the rest of the class.

Clearing my throat, I shook my head and got back to my doodle. I couldn’t shake him out of my mind. His eyes. His lips. The way he made me feel without touching me. I couldn’t help but to imagine how his touch would feel. How good it would if he lifted me on that desk and-

“I can’t believe that, can you?” my best friend, (F/n), plopped down beside me, interrupting my dirty daydream. Blushing, I put my hands against my face “Believe what?” I looked up at her as she squinted her eyes at me. Scoffing, she rolled her eyes “You’re already not paying attention? The teacher we were supposed to have already quit! Isn’t that crazy? It’s only the first week of school!” I nodded, mildly smiling “Wow, crazy!” I looked back to Mr. Winchester who was happily listening to another student. “He’s pretty cute, huh?” (F/n) grinned at me, wiggling her eyebrows. Laughing, I agreed “Yeah, he is pretty cute”

It didn’t take long for class to get over. As we piled out of the room, Mr Winchester gently grabbed my arm “Can you stay for just a minute?” I looked over at (F/n) who shrugged at me, stopping in her tracks. “Alone,” (F/n) raised her eyebrows at me before slowly walking away, shooting me concerned looks as she left.

My heart bumped in my chest as his grip tightened. “I saw the way you looked at me,” Mr Winchester slowly shut the door as he twisted the lock. “I saw the way you bit your lip at me. The way your eyes gazed at my body,” “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-” I stuttered, only for him to smother my words with his soft, plump lips.

Frozen, I didn’t kiss back, but he didn’t seem to mind. He let go of my arm and placed his hands gently on my hips. His lips peppered mine with gentle, quick kisses. His hands slowly glided up my body, his fingers made their way under my shirt as they danced on my bare skin. Giving up, he pulled his face away from mine and looked at me with those toxic green eyes. He didn’t have to say it because I already knew. He demanded to be paid attention to.

His face lowered once again. Not to my face, but to my neck. He kissed, sucked, and nipped at my neck. I began to feel myself pant as he pushed my body onto his desk “Mr Winchester, I-” I gulped as he shushed me “Call me Dean, baby” He gently laid me back before stepping back to watch me. He smirked as he gawked at me “You’re so sexy with clothes on. I can’t wait to see you without any,”

Before I could say anything, there was a knock at the door. I jumped off of the desk, feeling sweat bead up on my skin. Dean rolled his eyes before walking over to the door “Yeah?” he asked, his fingers played with the lock as he waited for an answer. “Dean, open the door. It’s me, Jo!” I could hear a woman’s voice. Dean looked back at me, his eyes glazed over before he unlocked and opened the door.

A woman with blonde hair walked in with two bright eyed children who resembled both her and Mr Winchester. “Why are you here?” Mr Winchester sighed before smiling at the children. “I saw that your class got out, so I was just coming to see where you were!” the woman explained. “Why are you here?” Dean asked again harshly, emphasizing ‘here’. “The kids and I wanted to celebrate your first day by surprising you and taking you out,” the woman rolled her eyes at him before looking at me.

“Who are you?” her voice shook as she stared at me. “I-I’m Y/n! I’m one of Dean’s...Mr Winchester’s students!” I shakily smiled as I extended my hand out to her. “Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Jo Winchester, Dean’s wife,” Jo looked at Dean, her lips pressed together into a thin line. Dean bit down on his jaw, not looking Jo in the eyes. “I was just leaving!” my voice shook with nerves as I hurriedly left the classroom without looking back.

Staring at my bedroom ceiling, I wondered why he wanted me when he had her. He has a wife. He has two children. What did he want with me? A broke college student. Still, I could not shake Dean out of my mind. I licked at my lips, hoping to taste his. I wished I had kissed him back. I closed my eyes as I let the images of us together dance around in my head. My core became soaked at the thought of what could have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. I bit my lip as I imagined what he looked like without clothes.

I bet his body was gorgeous. I bet the scruff on his face would tickle mine. I let myself sink into my bed as my fingers slowly drifted down to my core. I pretended that my fingers were his, pumping my fingers inside of me at a steady pace. “Dean,” I quietly moaned out, biting down on my lip. I imagined how he’d feel pressed on top of me. I could feel my fingers going faster and faster as I began to pant out his name “Dean!” I kept going until I rode out my high. With an unsatisfied sigh, I rolled over to my side and for the first time in my life I was excited for school the next day.

Walking into class, I saw Dean standing against his desk as he flipped through pages. I kept my head down as I made my way to the back avoiding contact. “Why are you going to the back?” Dropping my bag, I took a deep breath before looking at him “Class is cancelled. I sent out an email,” Dean walked over to the door. “Oh, I didn’t get an email!” I quickly picked up my bag and started to make my way to the front. “I know because I didn’t send you one,” Dean smirked, nudging the door shut. Dean dropped his papers to the ground as he pulled me close to him “I wanted to pick up where we left off”

Dean pressed his forehead against mine as he held my body close to his. I could feel the thud of his heartbeat against my body. “I want you, Y/n. Do you want me?” Dean whispered in my ear. Sighing, I looked down and grabbed his hand. I stared at the shiny wedding ring before looking back up at him “I can’t. You’re a husband and a father. What do I have that your wife doesn’t?”

“You’re my toy. My pet. Not my wife. Understand?” Dean raised my hand up and kissed it gently. I gulped down air, nodding “Yes,” the words stung, but they were a relief. I wasn’t a replacement, just a pet. A willing pet. “Now, do you want me like I want you?” Dean cooed into my ear, giving me gentle kisses along my jaw. Thinking of yesterday, I nodded “Yes, Dean. I need you,” the desperation poured out of me as a devilish smirk washed over Dean’s face “You need me, huh?” I nodded at him, my chest heaving as I struggled to slow down my breathing. “I can’t hear you, Y/n. Did you say that you need me?” “Yy-yes!” I stuttered.

Dean purred “Good girl,” into my ear and within seconds I was once again on his desk, but this time with him straddled between my legs. I watched as Dean removed his shirt revealing his bare chest “Damn” I breathed out, biting my lip. Dean grinned as he began to unbuckle his belt “Start undressing,” I shyly began to take off my clothes. I avoided his gaze as I removed every piece of my clothing until I was completely bare. “Mmm, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined!’ Dean grinned, cupping both of my breasts in his hands. I felt myself blush as he began to kiss my chest.

His mouth closed around one of my nipples, sucking and nibbling on it gently. My eyes rolled back as I let out a shaky breath, my fingers combing through his hair. Dean moved to the other nipple and did the same thing while circling his thumb around the other, squeezing and pulling on it occasionally. I felt my core becoming soaked as he kept at it. One after the other, back and forth before his lips left my chest and went to my lips.

Smiling, I happily kissed him back this time. Letting my lips dance with his and my tongue play with his. I drank his kiss, savoring his taste and making a note to remember it. I whined once Dean pulled away and got off of the desk. I watched as he sat down on his chair, pulling me towards him. Instinctively, I closed my legs. He let out a displeased growl as he ripped my legs back open “Don’t ever do that again unless I’m done with you!

I propped myself up as I watched Dean pull himself closer to me. “God you’re wet,” Dean grinned. Gulping, I nodded unable to speak as I watched him admire my body. His fingers gently ran over my slit before pushing deep inside of me. My head snapped back as I panted. His tongue lapped at my core, his fingers pushing deeper and faster. My legs began to shake as he got his fill. His scruff gently scraped against my skin as he helped himself to my core.

“Dean!” I moaned out, arching my back. Wanting more, Dean stood up and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me towards him. Dean had a fistful of my hair with one hand as the other hand slowly stroked at his length. I watched as his hand pumped his cock, slow and steady. The slit of it leaking with pre-cum. “You like the show?” Dean growled at me, his green eyes staring right at me. “Yes, daddy,” the words slipped out of my mouth as I looked up at him.

“Call me daddy again,” Dean groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure as his hand pumped faster and faster. Smirking, I leaned up and licked the strip of pre-cum that was leaking down his glistening, red cock “That tastes so good, daddy!” Dean growled, pushing me back against the desk.

Putting one of my legs over his shoulder, Dean leaned down to me and stuck two fingers in my mouth “Suck!” Dean demanded, thrusting into me without warning. I arched my back as the shock took over my body, gasping. “I said suck, bitch!” Dean’s voice boomed through his panting.

Moaning out, I obediently sucked on his fingers as I watched his face turn read and his forehead bead with sweat. I took a deep breath, he smelled of sweat and woodsy cologne. I moaned against his fingers as he moved faster, groaning out loud. The desk screeched as it moved from side to side against the classroom floor. “You feel so good Y/n!” Dean groaned out as his thrusts became rough.

Dean took his fingers out of my mouth, gripping my thighs and digging his fingers in them. I couldn’t help, but scream out his name as I arched my back. “Fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath as his thrusts became sloppy. His chest heaved as he worked himself up into finishing. “Fill me up, Dean!” I moaned out. Dean’s mouth hung open, the tip of his tongue pressed against the back of his front teeth as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his thrusts slowed as he finished inside of me.

He let his body fall against mine, his heart thumping as he caught his breath. I kissed his sweaty forehead as I felt him breathe into my neck. Smiling to myself, I held onto him savoring the moment and not wanting it to end. Soon an alarm sounded off, I looked around as he groaned. Dean got off of me, digging into his pants pocket to retrieve his phone “The next class will be here soon,” Dean began to dress himself as I did the same.

Watching him, I noticed his tattoo “Nice tattoo!” I smiled at him. “Thanks. Nice ass,” Dean smirked at me. I playfully rolled my eyes at him as I gathered up his papers from the floor. “Try not to throw papers next time,” I giggled, handing the papers to Dean who pulled me close to him. “No promises,” he smirked as he leaned down to kiss me.

The door swung open as students began to pile in. Dean stepped away from me and made his way to the front, welcoming the students in. I grabbed my backpack, mildly smiling at the staring students as I made my way out of the door. I stopped in my tracks as I pulled out a note containing my number. Turning around, I gave Dean the note “I just thought that you should have this. You know, in case there’s any extra credit or one on one study opportunities,” I smiled at him before leaving the classroom.

“How do you always get an A? I swear you never struggle in this class,” (F/N) groaned, flipping her paper over before dramatically banging her head against the desk. Flipping her paper over, I rolled my eyes playfully “You literally have a B!” “You’re a notorious teacher’s pet. He must give you the easy versions!” She joked.

“Suck it and you get an A,” Dean bit his lip, sitting back against the car door. I traced the vein in his leaking cock with my thumb before looking up at him “We just got done!” “I’m giving you an easy way out! I know you haven’t studied, you’ve been with me all night,” Dean smirked at me. Thinking about it, I nodded with a smile “Deal,”

I shrugged, smirking. My eyes wandered across the room to my green eyed secret. Dean winked at me before looking back down at his paperwork.

“I’m definitely a teacher’s pet”

masterlist

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jimimn · 4 years ago

Note

HHFJSLASI YOU AND I ARE JUST PROFESSIONALS WHEN IT COMES TO RAMBLING AND I LOVE IT I'LL MAKE THIS FIRST ASK SHORT SO THAT YOU CAN ADD THE READ MORE AND PUT THE REST UNDER THE CUT SO THAT YOUR FOLLOWERS DON'T HAVE TO DO A LOT OF SCROLLING LMAO - 💫

your brain i love it 😌😌

MISS SHIVI YOU'RE TOO SWEET 🤧💞 HFAKKA JUNGKOOK MADE THE WORLD STOP WITH THAT HAIR DYE AT THIS POINT I'M JUST ✨ manifesting ✨ a selfie of him with that hair and I know for a fact that the moment that one selfie comes out ITS OVER FOR US and OMG IN A BUN??? JDJAKJD I THINK YOURE SPEAKING THE DEVIL INTO EXISTENCE. BLONDE JIKOOK SELCA LETS GO BOYS COME ON DON'T BE SHY 🧚‍♂️🌸

OOOPS THAT IDOL PERFORMANCE DOES LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE THO...ESP ALL OF THEIR GROWLS..CALM DOWN??? JIMIN?? EXCUSE YOU.

AND JUNGKOOK'S OUTFIT WAS SO HOTJFJSLQJDJWKA. I did watch the performances later and can attest that DYNAMITE SLOW JAM IS NOW MY ANTHEM AND BLONDE JUNGKOOK SINGING IT IS DEFINITELY NOT GOOD FOR MY SANITY

CHANEL MODEL!JIMIN MISS SHIVI I AM THINKING MANY THOUGHTS NOW FOR REAL THO HE SHOULD TOTALLY WEAR MORE CHOKERS AND CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM FINISHING A PERFORMANCE ANF THEN RIPPING IT OFF AND THROWING INTO THE CROWD LIKE JSLWLAKF DEATH UPON US ALL!!! Honestly he can wear anything at this point and ummm 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ BUT FBKSKA I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD BUT I JUST THOUGHT OF JIMIN'S COLLARBONES PEAKING OUT FROM UNDER THE CHOKER AND WE'RE GOING A LITTLE FERAL AGAIN

BODY ROLLS DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED THERE IS NOTHING MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN HIM NOT ONLY BEING SO HOT BUT ALSO USING PERFECT TECHNIQUE!! AND THAT GAZE BYE I'M SHORT CIRCUITING HE CLEARLY KNOWS HIS POWER AND ISN'T AFRAID TO USE IT aND THAT LOOK GAAAAH 5TH MUSTER JIMIN COME HOME PLS THE FOOD IS COLD AND EVERYONE'S ASKING WHERE YOU ARE (me....I'm everyone) NO NOO DON'T BE SORRY I LOVE IT TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR MUSINGS *cups face in hand and leans on table*

AND I AGREE!! TAEHYUNG LOOKING GOOD IN THAT SUIT ONLY SHOWS US THAT THE GODS TOOK THEIR SWEET TIME ON HIM AND LMFAO I MEAN THEY'RE NOT WRONG THO 🤡 IS A PRETTY ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF US and omg you've got a sister!! that's so nice 💓

LITERALLY ON WITH THAT DANCE BREAK IN A CONCERT WITH JIMIN JUMPING OVER JUNGKOOK WHEN I TELL YOU I UGLY CRIED FOR HOURS AFTER SEEING THAT DURING THE MV PREMIERE I DON'T THINK I'LL LIVE KNOWING THEY DID IT IN A CONCERT and ooooooo you should definitely keep hoping!! We got an I need u performance, so anything's possible!! I got into them with bs&t so it makes me very 🤧🤧🤧 in retrospect but nothing about jimin dancing his jacket off was 🤧 it was more of a 🥵😵🥴🤕🤒 type of feeling LMAO

I KNOW RIGHT I LOVE HOW THEY ALWAYS GIVE US LIL UPDATES EVERYWHERE LIKE "OO I WENT CAMPING" "OO WE ATE BREAD!!" "OOO LOOK WE'RE JUST GOING TO DROP COVERS AND SELCAS SO YOU CAN LOSE WHATEVER LITTLE SANITY REMAINED!!" BUT YES TIMES LIKE THAT WHEN HE TWEETS JIMIN IS THE LITERAL EMBODIMENT OF THE BIGGEST HEART EMOJI

AND FJSLADHK I NEVER TOLD YOU LMAO MY BRAIN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️ MY BIAS IS JIMIN!! I MEAN BY THE LOOKS OF IT YOURS IS TOO HE MAKES US ALL SO 💕💓💫💓💗💕🌺🌈💘💓✨💗💓🌸💕💝🌈💓💗 ITS A LITTLE EMBARRASSING HOW MUCH HE MAKES ME FEEL LIKE WOW HOW AM I LETTING A MAN WHOM I DON'T EVEN KNOW HAVE SO MUCH CONTROL OF ME. HE'S JUST... EVERYTHING 🥺 I'M IN MY BREAK AND A LITTLE TOO EMO RIGHT NOW!! BUT I GUESS YOUR BIAS IS JIMIN TOO RIGHT? TAKING BY YOUR LOVELY BLOG AND BRUTALLY HONEST (IN THE BEST WAY!) URL LMAO IF NOT THEM I'M SORRY FOR PRESUMING 🙈🙈 but tell me!! how did you get into them??

(god...I'm just looking and I see I wrote too much I'm so sorry fksjwlfo)-💫

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i love seeing your asks in my inbox ok they make me very happy 🤧🤧 BLONDE JIKOOK IN A BUN SELCA I AM MANIFESTING!!!!!!!! BOYS JUST OPEN YOUR GALLERY AND DROP THEM SELCAS I KNOW YOU HAVE A LOT OF THEM PLS SPARE SOME FOR US THANX 😭

JIMIN IN THAT IDOL PERFORMANCE HOLY SHIT YES 😳 LIKE EXCUSE ME WHAT KIND OF DISRESPECT IS THAT 👁👄👁 and then in the same week he became small cuddly jimin with a boopable nose during the home performance 😔

istg jungkook looked like a very hot rich ceo of a huge company or sth 😳😳 (which he actually is sdfghjk atleast partially sdfg)

CHANEL NEEDS TO CALL JIMIN ASAP 🔫🔫🔫 AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAKING ME IMAGINE WILD SCENARIOS LIKE THAT 😭 ok imagine him smirking the “i know im hot” smirk after he throws the choker DEATH OK ABSOLUTE DEATHHHHHHHH and omg yes his collarbones along with the choker 😳😳😳😳 (and no its not weird asdfghj chill)

AND OMG THAT IS THE BIGGEST PROBLEM RIGHTTTTT!!!! THAT PARK JIMIN IS ABSOLUTELY AWARE OF THE POWER HE HOLDS AND HOW HOT HE IS!!!!! AND HE USES IT JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT WHICH IS KNOWS IS ENOUGH FOR US TO GO ABSOLUTELY FERAL and he’s such a fucking tease too dear lord i can’t with him 😭😭😭😭😭 AND OMG “*cups face in hand and leans on table*” STOP BEING SO CUTE OKAY WTF I AM BLUSHING HERE 😭😭😭😭

AND YES 🤡 IS DEFINITELY ALL OF US 🤣 i remember waiting for 12 am kst every freaking day for a week before BE dropped and big hit was like “not today you absolute clowns” on all our faces 🤡 AND YESS AAAAAAAA she’s not my own sister though!! she’s my aunt’s daughter. they’ve come to visit us for a week 🥰🥰

ON DANCE BREAK WITH JIMIN JUMPING OVER JUNGKOOK HOLY FRIKKIN YES BUT HAVEN’T THEY STOPPED DOING THAT JUMP IN THE RECENT PERFORMANCES? im sad :(((( BUT YES THAT IN A CONCERT WITH ARMY CHEERING AND FANCHANTS AND EVERYTHING HOLY SHIT CAN’T IMAGINE THE ENERGY IN THE STADIUM DURING THAT 🤯🤯🤯🤯 ARE YOU KIDDING I GOT INTO THEM WITH BS&T AS WELL. i am never ever ever going to be over that song. and yes jimin’s “accidental” jacket flips in bs&t are the reason is why i live and breathe 😌😌 (and simultaneously die multiple deaths) I AM NOT EVEN MAKING SENSE ANYMORE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND OMG I KNOW RIGHT WHEN CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED WITHOUT A FUCKING CLUE I WENT !@#$%^&*()&^%$#@q@#$%^&*( BECAUSE I HAD JUST WOKEN UP FROM SLEEP AND /?????? NEW SONG FROM JIMIN??????? THAT FELING WAS JUST HHHHHHHHHHHHHH atleast tae gave us a hint BUT I WAS STILL NOT READY WHEN SNOW FLOWER DROPPED. DAMN I HOPE THEY DON’T DO THIS NO WARNING THING WITH KTH1 AND JJK1 BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE FUCKING SLEEPING WHEN THEY DROP ASDFGHJK AND JIMIN AAAAAAAA JIMIN I MISS HIM SO MUCH CAN HE GO LIVE AGAIN PLS I JUST WANT TO HEAR HIS SOFT VOICE AND SEE HIS EYE SMILE AND FLOOFY HAIR AND TINY HANDS :(((((((

AND OMG YOURS TOO???? 😭😭😭 AND PRESUMPTION WHAT PRESUMPTION OMG OFC MY BIAS IS JIMIN (and six bias wreckers 😌😌) LIKE I HAVE JIMIN IN MY ICON AND IN MY HEADER AND IN MY URL AND I GIF JIMIN MOSTLY SO 😭😭😭 WHAT PRESUMPTION 😭😭😭 and god yes i love every little thing about him 🥺🥺🥺 FROM HIS SOCK DOODLES TO HIM BEING SUPER CLUMSY AND HIS JACKET FLIPS AND HIS SEXY BRAIN AND HIS KIND HEART AND HIM NOT GIVING TWO FUCKS ABOUT GENDER TO HIM GROWLING ON STAGE TO HIS NIPSLIPS I JUST!!!!!LOVE!!!!!!EVERYTHING!!!!! 🤧🤧🤧🤧 AND yes lmao my url ok story time!! so when i made this blog... i didn’t know i’d get into giffing and stuff lol so the friend who got me into bts (i’ll come to that story later) suggested jiminsjacketflip as a url for my blog but i was like nah this doesn’t sound cool so i added a bit of ✨pazzaz✨ and made it flipthatjacketjiminie LMFAOOOOO and ive been wanting to change it for a while now because its so fucking long and my watermark on gifs looks shitty because of that 🤡 but i haven’t found anything as unique as this one yet and i also think that if I change my url people won’t recognize me so im just..... living with this one lmaooooo 🤡

AND OKAY OMG so i got into them at the end of june 2020. My friend anna (who also has a blog and makes a++++ gifs @/lifegoesmon) got me into them. She made me listen to them and the first song i heard was stay gold as far as i remember and then it was BS&T AND GODDAMN THE WAY I GOT FUCKING HOOKED TO THE SONG I KEPT LISTENING TO IT ALLLLLLLL DAYYYYYYY and then she showed me the performance for bs&t and i knew i was a goner 🥴🥴 then I watched chaotic bts compilations and they were so fucking funny and adorable that i went like???? how are they so sexy and intimidating on stage and this adorable and chaotic off stage?😭😭😭 we listened to bts’ discography for like three hours on the first day and she shared her playlist with me and stuff and god I just fell for their music. and then obviously with their dance and then obviously with everything about them 🥺🥺 HOW ABOUT YOUUUUUUUU? WHEN AND HOW DID YOU GET INTO THEM???? (and pls don’t be sorry sdfghjk i love reading your asks 💖💖💖) OH ALSO DID YOU WATCH RUNNNNN???????? WHICH ONES DID YOU WATCH????

#anonymous #replied #💫

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thatmultifandomhoe · 5 years ago

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Daydreaming About Dandelions

Word Count: 3,343

Pairing: Hoseok and Reader

Genre/Rating: Daycare AU - Fluff - PG13

A/N: Also, this was heavily influenced by D.O’s song, That’s Okay and is the song being played at the end.

Warning: Fluff that is the level of tooth rotting and makes you want to squeal into a pillow.

Requested

Master List

Drabble Challenge Prompt #40: “The kids, they ambushed me.”

©thatmultifandomhoe 2019. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Working at a daycare meant that your days were never less than interesting. Specifically, with the little kids. The daycare you worked at had a range of kids from a year old all the way up to twelve, but you primarily worked to help care for the kids ranging from ages five to eight.

Most of your nights were spent coming up with activities that the children would enjoy, preferably for long periods of time until their guardians picked them up, but that wasn’t always the case. Over the years, you learned that if paint and food were involved, it was a guaranteed good time.

You smiled and waved as the last child was picked up, promising to see her again tomorrow after she got out of school. When the door was shut, you groaned, stretching your arms over your head for some relief. As much as you loved your job, you also loved the end of the day when it was quiet, allowing you to relax, play your favorite music, and clean the classroom you were provided with for the next day.

Walking over to your desk, you perched yourself on the edge as you scrolled through your phone, swiping away notifications that didn’t interest you and seeing what you missed in the world.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

You quickly looked up to see a man standing at your door, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion but his brown eyes light with happiness.

“Hi,” you greeted, making your way over to him. Maybe he was a parent? He looked about your age, so maybe he was an older sibling and was lost. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Hoseok, the new hire. Mrs. Cora said that we’d be working together until I was able to get my own classroom.”

You blinked in confusion; head slightly tilted to the side as he explained. Mentally, you tried to rack your brain for any mention of a new hire, or even that you’d be sharing your kids and classroom with him, but nothing came to mind.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “She said that an email had been sent this morning,” he added, hoping that it would be of some help.

“Um, let me check.” You quickly said, providing him with your name as embarrassment flooded you, quickly pulling up the emails on your phone. “I’m so sorry, with the kids it’s easy to forget things unless I write them down.”

He chuckled, but nodded in understanding. As you searched, he took the chance to look around the classroom you had. There were two rectangle tables in the room with small chairs, multiple bookcases that were painted soft yellows, greens and blues were against the walls with not only books, but serving as storage areas with wicker baskets as containers for toys and crafts that were at the moment, not so neatly organized. Not that he judged, seeing how he had passed by a little girl and her mother who had come from your classroom, he figured your day had only recently ended.

Near to the door were locker style cubbies, kids’ names were carefully written out with doodles on different colored laminated construction paper were stuck on each individual locker. From that he gathered you had a total of ten kids under your care and supervision.

“Ah ha,” you softly spoke, capturing his attention as you tapped the screen of your phone. “Mrs. Cora was right, there was an email sent out.”

It had been sent during the afternoon and remained unopened, which was why you didn’t remember it. Earlier you had taken the kids out to the playground and showed them how paint with chalk, so your emails had gone unread.

Briefly scanning it, you gathered that Hoseok would be working with you until the fall enrollment, that way he would not only have his own classroom, but because parents would be able to have the choice of meeting with and possibly choosing him to watch over the children.

“It says that you’d be working with the older kids?” You asked, exiting out of the app.

He nodded, running a hand through his black hair revealing his forehead. “Yeah, I used to teach dance and through that, had an easy time connecting with that age group.”

You smiled, leading him further into your classroom. “Ah, well you’re going to have an interesting time. Most of my kids are five through seven. I have one eight-year-old this year, so she’s a little more independent than the others, but it can still get wild in here.” Grabbing a basket with label glue sticks neatly written on it, you began to pick up the classroom. “There’s not much to do right now besides cleaning up, so you can head out if you want to.”

But Hoseok shook his head, joining in as he gathered up the scrap paper from this morning. “Two makes cleaning go by faster,” he joked.

You raised an eyebrow at him, but shrugged. If he wanted to stay and clean, then fine by that. “Alright. The baskets are on the bookcases. Just put everything back in their places and then we can wash down the tables.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

For the next hour, it was comfortable as the two of you worked on cleaning up the classroom, sharing small talk in an attempt to get to know each other. On your desk sat you phone, softly playing music to keep the atmosphere from being awkward when the conversation stopped.

It had been a while since you last shared your classroom with another adult, and while you enjoyed the independence, it was nice to know that there was someone else to pass the time with. You loved your kids, truly you did, but there was something about being able to have a conversation with another adult that did wonders to your sanity.

“Alright,” you finally spoke. The room was cleaned and organized with nothing out of place, just the way you liked it. “I really appreciate the help Hoseok.”

“It’s no problem. We’re going to be working together from now on, it only makes sense to stay and help.”

You nodded in agreement, taking a moment to pull your hair up. His attitude had been upbeat and you found yourself relaxing around him. Walking to your desk, you crouched down to open the bottom drawer, taking out the bucket of smooth rocks that you had gone searching for last weekend. They fit comfortable in your palm, plenty big enough for the kids.

Setting the bucket on the middle of the table, you chewed your bottom lip as you thought, trying to decide on how you wanted to set this up. There was way more rocks then there were kids, so they could paint several if they wanted to do so.

Hoseok, who had been drying his hands with paper towel, raised an eyebrow at the bucket. “What are you gonna have them do with the rocks?” Stepping closer, he reached down and plucked on from the pile. It was smooth and grey, a solid weight in his palm that reminded him of the rocks he used to skip at the river when he was younger.

“Paint them.” You answered, getting out the mason jars you used to hold your paint brushes. “My kids are more on the quiet and artsy side, so I figured it’ll be fun for them to do.”

He watched as you moved around the classroom with ease, the skirt you were wearing flowing softly as it skimmed your ankles. It wasn’t for the first time since he entered your classroom that he noticed you kept calling them, your kids. With the other staff, they either said, the kids, students or their names, but you affectionately called them yours.

“How much did the stores sock you for them?” He asked, joining your side.

You handed him the paper plates and giant roll of paper towel as you held onto the basket of bottled paints. “Nothing. There’s a river near my house, so I went there and picked out a bunch.”

Hoseok hummed in surprise, placing a plate in front of every chair and setting the paper towel down at the end. When he glanced up, his eyes widened for a moment. The blinds on the windows were up, allowing the sunlight to enter and warm up the room. But as the sun began to set, the light softened and filtered around you, making you appear as if weren’t from this world.

“Well, that’s it for now,” you murmured, stepping back and out of the light to look around. “I can fill up the water jars for them in the morning. Besides that, we are free to go.” Turning to Hoseok, you smiled at him as you headed back towards your desk, gathering up your purse and shutting down the computer as well.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning,” he stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t sure what he saw – it had to be a coincidence that the sun happened to highlight your figure like that – because it would not be in good taste for him to fall for you on his first day on the job.

He didn’t stick around much longer, and you waved as he walked out of the classroom. When you were sure that he was gone, you shook your head, softly chuckling as you finished packing up your own belongings. He seemed like a good fit, and there was a youthful vibe that radiated from him. Not because he most likely was your age, but in a way that he knew how to have fun and hadn’t let adulthood ruin his dreams.

As you turned off the lights, you had a pretty good feeling that there wasn’t going to be a single dull moment tomorrow.

“Good afternoon Lori,” you greeted, leaning over to hug the small girl as she entered the classroom.

“Afternoon Miss,” she shyly spoke, her arms tightening around your leg before going back to her mother.

You heart cooed at her. Even though she had been coming to you for the last year, she was still a sweet shy little girl. There was already a handful of kids sitting at the table with Hoseok, who had opted for sitting cross legged on the floor at the corner of the table and was painting his own rock.

He graciously declined your offer of a chair – you didn’t realize that he was much taller than you until this morning – and sat with the kids. Every time a small hand tapped on his arm or called out his name, he stopped what he was doing to give the child his undivided attention, oohing and awing whenever they showed him their masterpieces, even if they had showed him five times already.

“Lori, would you like to meet Mr. Hoseok? He’s going to be staying with us until the fall.” You asked, crouching down to her height after she hung up her belongings in her cubbie, still holding onto her mother’s hand. She was only six, but it still took some effort to get her to let go.

Her mother, dressed in red scrubs had to get leaving, so you held your own hand out for Lori to take, smiling when she slowly switched hands with yours and nodded. With a grateful smile, her mom smiled at you and waved bye to her daughter, slipping back out the classroom as you led Lori over to Hoseok.

Having been keeping one ear to the kids and the other to you, Hoseok set his paintbrush down as you came over with the little girl. He cooed as she tried to hide behind your leg, but with your gentle touch you were able to coax her out.

“Hi there,” Hoseok greeted, finger waving so as to not scare her. “I’m Mr. Hoseok. What’s your name hun?”

She glanced around the table before focusing back on him. “Lori.”

His own smile widened, and it was then that you noticed that his lips naturally curled into the shape of a heart. “Well Miss. Lori, it’s very nice to meet you. Would you like to paint a rock?”

With a little more reassurance coming from you, Lori was quickly under the same spell as the other kids, listening to his every word as he explained what they were doing and pointing to the colors the she wanted to use.

You watched for a few moments until there was a tug on your arm, thinking to yourself how much of a natural he was with them, and quickly withdrew from the daydream as you focused on Christopher as he asked for help. It was then that Hoseok looked at you, his heart racing a little faster as he watched you interact with the kids.

It wasn’t a strange feeling, he knew what was happening, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to act on it. You were his coworker and if anything were to happen, he’d hate to lose someone like you. In this world, you were the dandelion determined to grow in a cracked sidewalk.

By the time you glanced in his direction, Hoseok was already helping Lori and Jessi, the eight-year-old that was on the other side of him, unaware of the soft smile you were wearing.

Hearing a knock on the classroom door, you stood up from where you were crouched over by Johnny and opened the door, smiling when you saw multiple parents waiting outside. “Hey guys, come on in and I’ll get the kids ready.”

One by one they came in, and like all curious kids, they couldn’t help but look up to see who had entered the room. Several excited mom’s, dad’s, and even a grandma, had them up out of their seats as they hurried to hug their loved ones.

It was after the happy greeting that you gathered their attention once more. “Before you guys go, just remember that your projects won’t be ready to go home tonight. They’re still wet so they’re gonna stay here and finish drying, but you can bring them home tomorrow. Why don’t you guys go show them what you made.”

Excitement filled the room as the group led the adults over to the counter by the window where their rocks were drying, their names written out in their own handwriting on the paper plates they had used.

Like you and Hoseok had been doing all afternoon, the adults all oohed over the child’s hard work while you waited by the door. You had made it a custom to give every one of your kids a hug goodbye as well as the promise to see them tomorrow.

What you hadn’t expected however, was for the small group of them to rush to Hoseok first, who had been taking the moment to stand and stretch his legs, surprising him when several hands wound their way around his limbs.

You stifled your laughter by covering your mouth, finding his shocked face adorable. He quickly recovered and hugged each child one by one, and after they received their hug they hurried over to where you were waiting for them.

“See you tomorrow Mr. Hoseok,” you heard Lori call out as she made her way over to the door, her hand in her grandmother’s this time.

“See you tomorrow Lori,” Hoseok promised.

His eyes were lit up with a happiness that couldn’t be contained as it slipped through with his giggles and smiles. It was like the children were feeding off the emotion that he radiated, unable to contain themselves as they spoke fast and giggled even faster.

When the last child had hugged the two of you and left with their guardian, both you and Hoseok sighed in relief, taking the moment to crash on to the floor with your backs against the cubbies.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, letting your limbs relax before you needed to get back up and clean the classroom. Tomorrow was Friday which meant they were going to be extra hyper for the start of the weekend. You were too in a way, except your weekend was going to be spent catching up on chores, paying some bills, and curled in your bed with Netflix on you TV.

“The kids,” you heard Hoseok say, and opened your eyes to face him. “They ambushed me.”

You giggled with a nod. “They really like you. Are you sure you don’t want to work with the younger kids in the fall?” You teased, gently bumping his shoulder with yours.

He laughed, ruffling his hair as he sat up, drawing his right leg up to rest his elbow on his knee. “I don’t know how you do it every day.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“That’s because they love you. You treat them like their yours.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze take you in before focusing on your eyes. This time you were wearing light colored capris and a sky-blue blouse with sandals, and he somehow managed to almost match you in his own tan colored pants and white dress shirt. It was a miracle that the shirt had been spared of getting paint on it.

Shrugging, you brushed your hair back behind your ear. “Well in way, they are for a few hours. You don’t realize it at first but sometimes, these few hours are the only time they get to be kids and have fun. They’re all precious and I love them, and they know that. Kids need love to grow, and they know that this is a safe place for them to be exactly what they are…kids.”

He hadn’t expected such a response from you, it stunned him speechless. But he shouldn’t be so surprised. With all the care and attentiveness, you put into the classroom and gave to them, it should have been obvious. Maybe there was something otherworldly about you after all.

“Well,” you sighed, focusing on the table. “I think it’s time that we cleaned up. The paintbrushes will dry up if we don’t wash the paint out.”

Standing, you held your hand out for Hoseok to take, smiling down at him. “Work isn’t over just yet.” You teased.

Hoseok slipped his hand in yours, allowing you to pull him up. “Yeah, but soon it’ll be the weekend,” he weakly added, hoping you hadn’t noticed the way his hand lingered in yours before pulling away.

As you pulled up a playlist on your phone, just like you had done last night, Hoseok checked his own for any messages and was relieved to see one from his friend Yoongi, asking if he wanted to come over for a drink. Glancing at you, he softly smiled as the room filled with the soft chords of an acoustic guitar and the soothing lullaby in a foreign language.

He thought back to when you said that you had gathered the rocks at the river near your place, suddenly picturing you stopping to take a break, enjoying the sounds of the river gurgling down stream and the singing of the birds. He wondered if there had been any dandelions nearby and if you saw them, would you leave it grow and thrive in the sun, or would you pluck it and hold it near your lips, gently blowing it as you made a wish, the soft breeze flying the seeds into the air with the a childlike hope that maybe it might come true.

A part of him wanted to stay up tonight and make his own wish at 11:11 pm.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked back down at his phone and responded with a yes, tucking his phone away. If he was going to try and just be friends with you, he was going to need that drink with Yoongi tonight to keep his daydreams exactly that, simply daydreams.

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hoopdiddies · 6 years ago

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I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 7)

A/N: This is probably the longest I've written in this series. Again guys, thank you for the support, your comments and likes mean so much! My tag list is always open so feel free to ask. And on a slightly heavy note: the next chapter could be really angsty. Just a heads up right there uwu

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: Angst, slight drinking, slight swearing, (yeah the fluff is still present)

W/C: 5k-ish

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

Edited// I forgot to link the previous parts

Parts: 6 5 4 3 2 1

(Got the pic from Pinterest hhh-)

Storing the luggage bag you've purchased for a fair price in the spare room, you come across a small box of sundries tucked in one corner with cobwebs clinging to the sides. Your eyes light up with curiosity spiking within you, you pick it up and dust the webs off, blowing the particles away from the top. You squat on the floor and open the flaps, discovering small yet familiar items that had been lost in time– one of them being a sepia-toned polaroid of you and Ben posing dramatically with hilarious doodles drawn on your faces. You forgot about this, feeling a little guilty that you had hidden it away in a drafty box without remembering doing anything of the sort. You flip the picture over and spot a date and an unfinished sentence written in faded ink on the bottom left part. This was taken on Homecoming night.

'I'm not going-' it says, clearly discontinued next to the date. Silly to think that the picture somehow represents a puzzle piece torn away from its board.

You were bound to graduate the week after and barely a day after, not see each other for several years due to your career paths and post-college choices.

You pull on the hem of your shirt, clearing the picture of dust and any more impurities, finally fitting it into your back pocket to finally treasure it the way it was always meant to be treasured.

The door clicks as you bring it close, your eyes gluing themselves at the hardwood floor seconds to having self-pity billow over you at how quickly your tears surface in the corner of your eyes from the memory of Ben spinning Rosy around - the exact way he did with you -and kissing her like she's a pouch full of life.

You clamp down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to stain your cheeks with your pooling tears. "Jeez, you just-" you pace back and forth in frustration, balling your fists as you gesticulate lazily, "you just don't get it, Y/N! Ugh, you're so- fuck, just get over it..." Knowing your harsh soliloquy would be getting you nowhere, you snarl strongly at yourself and roughly wipe your tears away with the back of your hand.

"He loves Rosy. F-freaking deal with it!" The reminder takes a hiss from your quivering lips for it to sink in; you have your own place in his life– a place behind the line you'd drawn in the years prior. The friend zone couldn't be any more hollow and cold than it already is.

And a polaroid pic is the only remnant left of how inseparable you and Ben were in the early days.

At the same time you're feeling your heart tear itself apart, Ben pulls out a picture - similar to what you've found - from the inner pocket of his old varsity jacket in the middle of rummaging through his wardrobe. He leaves his room in his pajamas and tosses himself on the couch next to a sleeping Frankie, softly apologizing to the little beagle for disturbing her cat-like nap. As he cuddles Frankie close, he scrutinizes the picture and it's also from Homecoming, but in it both of you are beaming widely with your arms slung around one another– the doodles ever-so-present on your faces. Behind it, the date and the continuation of the trailed-off sentence written at the back of your share of the memory.

'-anywhere at all.'- it ends in Ben's part of the duality. He grins fondly at the long lost picture, feeling twice as guilty for not keeping it safe and...close to his heart, just as he had promised you that night.

- - - - - - - -

In the convenience of Lucy needing some company to shop with for awards season just as she had returned from her get-away with Rami, she drags you along happily, having to pass through you insisting that you stay at home and study but purposefully ending up under her mercy anyway. You couldn't say no to her, she's basically your sparkly, glam counterpart and you're in need of her life-altering sparkles as of now. Especially since you're going to be tagging along with them, mainly as Joe's date cause you know, you're his 'girlfriend' and all.

You're at the mall, in a stylish boutique full of lines of voguish clothing and shoes that could span miles if not compressed together. For once in the hours you've spent scampering around the mall with Lucy to hoard dresses, skin products and make up, you admit that this is the most aesthetically pleasing space in the entire building.

You traipse along a section with black dresses fashioned into different forms, silently praying that what you have with you will amount to at least one of the varying prices.

Lucy's on the opposite side, ogling at the most colorful section in the boutique for a piece to wear. She peers over at you to make sure you've chosen your 'fighter'. A few swishes of the dresses lined up and you do, holding it up high to evaluate the appropriateness.

It's a sleeveless, halter neck satin that's just a few inches above the knee. Utterly backless but it ends right up the small of your back. The fabric is stretchy enough to move around and breathe in as it simultaneously hugs your shape. You love it but gulp as you prepare yourself for the price. Flipping the tag over, you suddenly wish you could let out the biggest, girlish squeal the human race has ever heard with how surprisingly affordable it is.

"Finally picked out yours?" Lucy pokes her head up playfully and you nod, quite speechless but giddy. She makes a grabby hand at your dress to examine it for herself.

Well she's the fashion guru so why not? You hand her the dress and as she trails her eyes from top to bottom, her mouth falls at the simple yet elegant details. "This is perfect! I highly doubt that it's not going to catch every exposed eye present at the event."

Your flush profusely at her comment. "Thanks but I'll be bringing a coat with me."

That triggered her, but of course you're only teasing. "You better effing not." She warns you and you chuckle, taking the dress from her and evenly brushing the skirt.

"I won't, you can sleep soundly tonight."

You assure her of the possibility. As you exit the boutique with a few bags you're not used to holding, Lucy takes out her phone and gasps, her face contorting with a little disbelief. "Uh oh, this might ruin your mood." She hands you the phone and you gape at her confusingly before taking a quick look.

Ben's posted some updates on his wedding preparations, shockingly tagging you, Joe, Gwil and Lucy in one photo. He's pretty busy alright; unable to text or call you for days but miraculously tagging you out of nowhere.

You come to disregard it until you notice one minute but important detail hidden in plain sight in all of his posts– there isn't a single one with him and Rosy together alone. None of such as well on his new ones.

The only post he's had with a close girl is the one with you, which is at the very bottom of his Instagram feed. You won't admit it but it warms your heart a little. Actually, a whole lot despite wondering why there's none of him and his fiancee. You hand Lucy her phone back and tilt your head to one side, suddenly finding the eagerness to go on shopping. "Let's go."

The following week comes as a radial blur contrasted to the slightly moderate one you just woke up from; your manager phoning you up to take the earliest shift you've had in years at the expense of your allotted time to rest, the heavy workload and rush hours in the upcoming hours followed by the slowest progress of filing your travel documents and visa needed for your departure on the 26th. You've got tons of missed calls from your parents and Joe, who's requested for you to pack up early since you'll be leaving for LA with Lucy on the day of the awards but earlier.

Also noting that you still need to double check the costs for flying to LA and back, ruling out the one exclusive for your flight on the 26th.

For mere days you feel as if you could lose your sanity as your life spirals into madness with everything you're required to do– whether or not you're obliged to do it.

But they are effective distractions for that problem you are still very much preoccupied with. That's a matter noteworthy of later discussion. Amidst all the chaos happening, part of you wishes for Ben to reply to your messages or even talk to you in the slightest. You never bothered to call this week since he's tied up but the least he could do is let you know how he's doing, if he's thinking of you once in a thousand passing seconds.

You give up for a day waiting on him and drown yourself in work.

- - - - - - -

Securing your phone between your tilted head and your shoulder as you indulge in your talk with Joe through the line, you crouch and zip your luggage bag close. Your eyes fixating themselves on two, separate luggage bags for two, separate travels.

"Was that all of it?" Joe's disembodied voice asks. You spring up and take your phone between your fingers. "Pretty much. I better have a kick out of something by the time we touchdown tomorrow– it's my first visit to the US." You inform him, leaping into your bed and landing comfortably.

He chortles softly and ensures you. "I know and you can be sure to expect a good par- ow! Bad kitty!" His smooth transition to a yelp amuses you for split second.

"Are you alright? "

"No. I'm finally feline food to my kid." He refers to his pet cat that has taken a small nibble on his finger, in which Joe returns with a light ruffle to its fur. You can't help but giggle heartily at him.

"Anyway, I'm picking you and Lucy up from LAX tomorrow." He gives you that heads up and you bring your hand up to your forehead. "Where will we be staying?"

"I've booked a hotel earlier so you've got nothing to worry about the moment you land." A faint crunch can be heard from your end and you mind to ask Joe about it. "Are you- are you eating?"

To answer your question, he bites down on his food sloppily and guarantees you of what you heard. You smack your lips together as your eyes narrow in bewilderment.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Sometimes you make it easier for me to hit you with a pillow."

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend?" He taunts at you and cackles, his distorted voice bouncing off of the walls of your room. You sigh, defeated by the fact that this charade is still going on. It's silly and immature yet you and Joe somehow managed to stick to the act.

"Speaking of boyfriend though– would he be furious if I told him that I couldn't be there on his wedding day?" Since you're rested and got nothing else to distract you, you pop the question to Joe.

"Ben?"

You hum softly.

"There are two scenarios that we need to consider," on his end, Joe taps his finger on his lips as he thinks of said scenarios, "Best case scenario- he would get discouraged and slightly unmotivated, and obviously sad, but he'd still support you cause that's your dream."

You sit up and twirl the ends of your hair around your finger, swallowing. "And worst case scenario?"

Joe falls silent before exhaling harshly. "You'd crush his soul, heart, everything ranging from physical to spiritual and it would take a toll– and I mean a substantial toll on your friendship."

"Joe, don't make it sound like a prospect! "

"That is, " he adds strongly, "if he finds out that you had meant for him to be oblivious to it." And he's right. But you had a reason. You still do. Even if you do end up telling him and he supports you, you need a great deal of space to move on.

As long as he's committed to Rosy and you're in the sidelines still in love with him, it's just something toxic. You couldn't love anybody they way you do Ben and you feel like you'll never love someone like him ever again. Albeit how clueless he is sometimes and clumsy, you both had survived every storm and wave. So sticking around to witness him give his hand and heart to someone else is torture for you.

"I'm gonna be direct and say-" just as you begin talking, your phone shrills to another caller, cutting you off from Joe.

One look at the screen and your heart begins racing. Speak of the devil. You reserve an explanation for cutting off and answer Ben, clearing your throat. "You're late."

Ben's gruff chuckle welcomes you back. "I know, I'm so sorry. Busiest week I've had and the lady at Starbucks signed my cup like a snail."

"What are you doing tonight that requires coffee?"

"Call me dramatic- or do so, given that I'm an actor- but I just want to stargaze right now." You hear a light rustle coming from his end, like he's seated out on his lawn.

Silently giving him the 'oh really' look, you spread one side of the curtain to let some moon light in. "Ben, you're leaving early tomorrow."

He hums, seemingly enjoying himself. "But that's not an excuse to not enjoy the night." This boy can not get any cornier. You cast your gaze upon the moon, sighing profoundly. "How did the wedding planning go? Good?"

"Hm, yeah. Church wedding, big reception. Whole lot of booze binging planned out. And a killer bachelor party the day after the awards. " He jokes through the line and you tell him off in a playful chide. "Benjamin Jones, you better-"

"I won't. I won't." You sense his gentle smile from your end, checking the time and reluctantly coming to the decision to hit the hay since you'll be leaving early as well. As much as you want to recreate those late night conversations you once had with him, you can't.

"Hey?" You coo somehow.

"Yeah?"

"I gotta sleep. I have to meet Lucy at the airport at 5."

He gives out a throaty grunt as if he's pulling himself up. "Tragic. I'll see you in LA then, love."

Your lips curl up into the gentlest smile with the moonlight blessing it from the window. "You too. Tell yourself and the rest- especially Brian and Roger- that I'm gonna be rooting for you guys to get up on that stage."

"I will. Thanks for the motivation, Y/N. All the words coming from you just mean so much to me. To all of us." And in his voice, you can hear his utmost sincerity and fondness just highlighting his tone.

"Anytime. Now let me sleep, you bloke. "

"Haha, alright. Love you tons, love."

Shifting your eyes to the sky once more, you reply, allowing the words you're about to say to mean more.

"I love you too, Ben. Good night."

- - - - - - -

24th

You had promised Lucy you'd arrive 10 minutes earlier than her and you really didn't hold on to that promise. As soon as you arrive at the airport nearly bathing in sweat and deaf from the multiple rings Lucy has given you, you both take off to the waiting area with your heavy luggage where you spend an hour and a half waiting for your flight to board. Joe has sent two texts telling you that he's still in the middle of having coffee and it's a questionable action since he's 8 hours behind you and is expected to be asleep by now.

You reply with a simple, "See you there" before heeding to the call of your flight number from the speakers.

All the rushing and you haven't had a bite of breakfast yet. An eleven hour flight doesn't sound so bad, as long as you make sure you don't reel everytime you get up to use the bathroom and acquire jet lag the moment you land from a direct flight without any pit stops. The flight is long as you are awake but by the time you fall asleep in between hours, it shortens the duration. The pilot announcing your arrival wakes you and Lucy from the latest nap you've had on the plane. After gathering your luggage and answering a couple of phone calls on you way down the plane, the arrival area is where you spy Joe behind the red tapes, a scarf around his neck and an eager look plastered on his pale skin, just waiting for you and Lucy to step in. His eyes crinkle as he sees you both treading towards him with a handful of luggage. He greets you both with a tight hug and ushers you to his car, assisting with the transport of your things.

He's booked you in the hotel he's staying in to, of course, avoid some minor inconveniences especially since the awards start at 7 pm and you drastically need Lucy to help you prepare. Upon reaching the hotel, he leads the both of you up the second floor and into the hall for your rooms.

Apparently you and Lucy will be sharing which is the great and Joe will be staying in the room right across yours.

After giving yourselves a brief tour of the room, you settle in and unpack your essentials.

"Y/N, bring out your fighter!" Lucy declares with a giggle, pulling the dress she's chosen from her suitcase. It's a purple, off-the-shoulder, crepe satin and black velvet gown that cascades gracefully against the stable air.

Your eyes widen in awe at how it looks against the light. "No need for a match, Luce. You win," you raise your hands up in surrender, "that's- that's catching more eyes. From Rami of course."

"Oh shut it. You'll look smooth in black." She clicks her tongue and smoothens it at the edge of the bed. You whip out yours and hold it up high, wavering a little at how you'll look like in it tonight. How fortunate you were to find 3-inch, black pumps closeted when you were 'panic packing' the night before. You take it out from your suitcase and set it aside before striding towards the blinds, pulling it up and beholding the breathtaking view of Hollywood before you.

Your first visit to the US and you're already headed to the Oscars. This isn't the real life. This is just fantasy.

- - - - - - - -

"We're having a dinner party afterwards, I don't see any reason for two sandwiches before the ceremony." Staring blankly at how Joe's handling waiting for you and Lucy to emerge from your room, Rami purses his lips quizzically– he's come by to pick up his girl as well. The two men look dashingly handsome in their black tuxes and slick hairstyles– their individual charm strong as they highly anticipate for your appearances.

Joe swallows the chunk in his mouth before speaking. "I'm stressed."

"About what?"

He bites down on his last sandwich, dusting his hands off crumbs as he reasons out. "It's the Oscars. Biggest ceremony of the year."

With a shake of his head, Rami opens his mouth to protest but pauses as the creak of the door behind them butts in their conversation. Lucy - exquisite in her cascading satin gown and look dotted in light to moderate make up - emerges with her purse in hand and eyes heady on Rami.

Joe wishes he could loosen some hinges in Rami's jaw since the latter has got his mouth agape at her girlfriend's evening look. To him, she is his ultimate award and he wouldn't have it in any other way.

"Hey, babe." Lucy smiles delicately and kisses Rami's cheek, to which he responds with a breathless, "Luce, you look..." His starstruck silence finishing his compliment for her. Joe hums, agreeing with crossed arms. "I wish I was as pretty as you, Boynton."

"You boys look handsome, too." Lucy giggles softly and Joe begins to wonder. "Where's Y/N?"

"She'll be out in three...two..." As Lucy deliberately pauses her countdown, you come out of the room, head down as you feel a bit hesitant to continue but you regain your confidence and look up timidly– your appearance putting Joe in the same position Rami was just in with Lucy. The dress really agrees to your form, contouring every curve of your body in a semi-sensual way, guaranteeing that you'll be snagging some looks tonight. Your (H/C) hair frames your face intricately with your light make-up emphasizing the color of your eyes and lips. The light brush of air against the skin of your exposed back makes you clutch your purse tighter, deeming it uncomfortable.

Lucy smiles proudly at her work and that is you. "Well, how does she look Joe?"

Joe lets out a hitched exhale, hazel eyes wide as a sinkhole and a slacked jaw struggling to budge. "Like my girlfriend."

"You wish." You can't help but retort playfully and he brings his finger up to his lips, hushing you. Rami compliments you as well and you thank him as the four of you make your way to the elevator– your arm on Joe's and Lucy's on Rami's.

You've taken a limo for the sake of convenience, since Joe and Rami wanted to propose a pre-toast - with the champagne present in the vehicle - to their successes and hard work in the past year. You have faith they'd bring home an Oscar; considering how spectacular their work was portraying the members of Queen. You're also thrilled that you're about to meet Brian and Roger.

The limo parks just across Dolby Theatre and the four of you climb out, making your way arms-in-arms into the place crowded with paparazzi and attendees. You see yourself as a small fish swimming in a sea full of majestic dolphins. This is the big leagues right here and you're not even one bit of a celebrity– at least you feel like you aren't one. After a couple of shoulder brushes with either familiar and unfamiliar faces and escaping the blinding flashes of the cameras, the four of you reunite with Gwilym who has Roger and Brian present by his side. You are introduced to the two Queen members by Joe and you couldn't be any more happier to meet them in person. A couple of moments of interacting with the rest of the crew and cast, Ben joins the 'party' looking sharp and admittedly drop-dead gorgeous in his white tuxedo blazer and slicked back hair with Rosy by his side.

Before he could even reply to the greetings of his friends, he lays his eyes on you and for a while– his pupils dilate and his expression flits faster than he can command it to. He can't believe what or who he is seeing before him amidst all the glam. Letting go of Rosy's hand for a minute, he steps close to you, indescribably captivated. "Y/N...h-hey."

You keep your composure, musing back. "Hey. You look left out, outfit-wise, and a like a million bucks."

It takes him nearly five seconds to reply with the way hes has his eyes transfixed on you. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. Your evening look setting him back to Homecoming night and something inside him just tweaks. You avoid his mindless gaze and break the silence, trying your hardest not to flush. "Ben, please talk. It's just really-"

"You look...beautiful." He breathes out like he had just gotten up from under water.

#queen #borhap #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap imagine #joe mazzello #ben hardy fanfic #imagine #fanfic

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imagining-supernatural · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 2: History Class

Cracks In The Dam Series – Bucky’s POV

She’s a quiet engineering and physics major trying to forget the demons of her past, and he’s the campus playboy trying to turn over a new leaf. Their friendship is unlikely, but just might be forged to withstand the cracks in the dams they’ve built to protect themselves. (BuckyxReader college au)

Word Count: 2723

“Hey Bucky,” one of the girls in my history class said with a grin and a wink. I just gave her a slight nod as I finished the rest of my coffee. I didn’t remember her name, but I was pretty sure we’d hooked up once or twice. She didn’t seem too familiar though, so it was probably at least a year ago.

I might not remember the names of all the women I slept with, but I sure as hell remembered their faces. I wasn’t a complete douche.

“Have you started on the term paper we have due?” She shifted her weight, popping her hip out a bit and pushing her boobs forward as she pouted slightly. “I just can’t pick a topic. There are so many good options.”

I wasn’t up for this today. I’d spent all of last night on the phone with Aunt Jeanie, trying to figure out what to do with Rebecca. I was running on about two hours of sleep, five shots of espresso, and a prayer to make it through the day. Chatting with someone who, I’m sure was a great person, but didn’t seem to have much substance around me was just too exhausting.

“I’m halfway done already,” I said carelessly, tossing the empty coffee cup in a nearby trashcan. “Good luck with yours, though.”

And with that, she actually let me pass by. Thank God she wasn’t one of the clingy ones.

Once I was through the doors and into the lecture hall, I surveyed my options. My usual seat in the back was already surrounded by a few of the guys I hung out with and a group of girls. If I couldn’t even handle a conversation with that chick earlier, there was no way I would survive an entire hour surrounded by them.

That left two options: Sit alone or take the seat that always seemed to be open next to Y/N and finally see what she did all hour in her notebook.

It was basically a no-brainer decision.

I’m halfway in my seat before I speak up, giving her no chance to tell me to fuck off. “Another exciting day learning about fifteenth century history.”

“Oh lovely,” she says, not even looking at me. “Another stimulating conversation with Bucky.”

How she knew it was me, I have no idea. But the idea that she was hyperaware of my presence makes me laugh. “It’s been a long two days without me. I know it’s hard, doll.”

“Why don’t you go sit with your harem? I’m sure they need your attention more than I do.”

“Probably.” So she did pay enough attention to me to know where I usually sat. This new information made me grin and sit back in my chair. Was she always this observant, or just when it came to me?

Just as I’m about to say something else, and God knows what would come out of my mouth, she glances at her watch before pulling her phone out of her backpack. Her head shakes slightly as she reads whatever’s on the screen.

“God,” she mumbles. “It’s like babysitting a five-year-old.”

Underneath her slightly annoyed expression is that same small smile she had after that Tony guy drove off on Friday night. “That the dude from your date on Friday?”

“Yeah,” she says almost without thought. At least, I assume it’s without thought because she normally never reveals anything to me. “But it wasn’t a date.”

“Not a date,” I scoff as she types out a text. “Right. Dressed like you were? Doll, that dress you wore was probably more than my last paycheck.”

And just like that, my mind flashes back to that night and that dress. Damn she had a nice body. Just the memory of how she looked was enough to wake me up even more. Sitting by her had definitely been the right choice today.

For the first time since I sat down, she turned in her chair and faces me head on. Her eyes bore into mine and there’s a slight smirk playing around the corner of her lips. Her very kissable lips. Dammit Steve.

“Why so interested in my love life, Barnes? Your one-night stands getting boring?”

And there was the deflection I was so used to from her. So I mimic her posture, leaning forward with my elbows on the desk. “Why so defensive, Y/L/N? Jealous that your best friend found her true love and you struck out on Friday night?”

Her groan was immediate, and it made me smile. This wasn’t just a ploy in our little bantering game. That groan was a genuine Y/N reaction. She probably wasn’t aware, but her walls were slowly coming down around me.

“Oh, God, don’t remind me about Nat and Steve. They’re disgusting. Literally, they’re always making out on the couch or in my kitchen or… ugh.”

Even under her complaining, I could see that she was happy for her friend. She wasn’t one of those girls who got jealous over someone else’s happiness. It just made me like her all the more.

Her phone vibrated again and she read the messages, rolling her eyes.

“Boy trouble?” I can’t help the teasing any more than she can help the glare she throws my way.

“Boss trouble. Gimme a sec.”

As she puts her phone to her ear, I think about her last few words. She’d just excused herself from our conversation. Politely. She probably didn’t even realize she did it, but it was a sign that some part of her liked talking to me.

“Go to the damn hospital, Tony.”

No greetings, interesting. I had a feeling I was about to get a very close look into what made Y/N tick.

“I will drag your stupid ass to the hospital myself.” Didn’t she say this was her boss? “If I’m going to be on my A-Game this week, then you need to be too. I need your brain.” What kind of a boss let their employee talk to them like that? “It’s the whole reason I have a job. I’m going to tell Jarvis to call that ambulance.”

If I didn’t already like Y/N before now, this conversation between her and her boss was certainly cementing it. This was a woman who wasn’t scared to tell someone to fuck off. This was a woman who could give my shit right back to me. This was the kind of woman that I wanted – no, needed – in my life.

“For fucks sake, man. I’ll do the presentation. Your brain is your best asset and no-no, don’t say anything. I regret that word choice already. You need to make sure you didn’t fuck up and ruin it.”

Seriously, what kind of a person did Y/N work for? Whoever it was, she was familiar enough to cuss him out while trying to take care of him. For someone who was pretty quiet around most people from what I’d seen, this was a whole new layer.

“I’ll believe it when a doctor tells me that.” And, without any farewell, she hung up. In the next second, she was dialing another number. “Jarvis, I’m overriding whatever stupid command Tony gave you and telling you to call a goddamn ambulance. Override code: Please and thank you.”

I learned more about her, but there were so many more questions piling up now as she hung up. Her eyes flashed over to me and I grinned. “I’ve never heard anyone talk to their boss like that.”

“You’ve never met my boss,” she said with a weary voice. “You’d understand.”

My mouth opened, but I was once again cut off before I could get any words out. The professor started the lecture and I listened with half an ear. History was interesting to me and I spent a lot of my life searching out the stories on my own, so I knew enough to be able to give only half of my attention to the professor.

The other half of my attention started wandering to Rebecca and Aunt Jeanie, but I quickly pulled it back into place. I could worry about them later. Things were a mess, but I couldn’t let it overtake my entire life.

So I glanced down to Y/N’s notebook to see what kind of a notetaker she was. Instead of dates and names and events the professor was saying, her page was covered with drawings and calculations. I knew she was smart. Nat wouldn’t shut up about how smart Y/N was. But I’ve never seen her in action. She was entirely focused on whatever the hell she was trying to figure out. Arrows, numbers, and scribbled out equations littered the paper.

Just as she got another text and read it on her watch, I leaned closer and saw what looked to be a drawing of a boot.

She muttered something under her breath, probably about the text, and I leaned closer. She obviously wasn’t paying attention to class, so I wouldn’t be distracting her too much. “You a fashion designer or something?”

Obviously not, since most clothes didn’t require advanced calculus.

“Or something.” Her hand on my shoulder pushed me away a bit. “Dude, personal space.”

A few minutes passed where she just stared at her paper with squinty eyes. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. Damn, I wish I could see her thought process. Instead, I leaned over and pointed at one of the boot-looking doodles she was staring at. “If you’re wondering what color to make it, I’d go with a bright green.”

“Not helping.” She was so focused on her notebook. Why had she even come to class today if she wasn’t going to pay attention? Either she already knew all about the Ming Dynasty and the spread of Islam into Africa, or she was so lost by this point in the semester that paying attention wouldn’t do any good. If the latter was the case, I could use that to my advantage.

For the rest of class, I made my plans. From what I’ve learned about her so far, getting Y/N to spend more time with me was going to be difficult. I had to play my cards just right. She was a busy woman, so carving out any portion of her schedule would already be like climbing Mount Everest. And there was the fact that my reputation preceded me, so I would have to overcome her preconception that I wanted to spend time with her just to get into her pants.

Not that I didn’t want to get into her pants. Any guy would be an idiot to refuse her. And, like Nat said last weekend, any chick would be an idiot too.

But I needed Y/N in my life to keep my sanity. Between her, Nat, and Steve, I felt like I had a chance of making it through my last few semesters of college and talking some sense into my little sister. Three people who weren’t afraid to call me out.

I needed Y/N. Even as just a friend.

“Well, that was a fascinating lecture, as usual,” I said, holding back a grin when Y/N snapped her head up with wide eyes, surprised that class was over.

“I sure hope none of that’s gonna be on the test.” Her weary mumble gave me hope. So she didn’t have a clue as to what was going on in this class.

Good.

That was what my entire plan was built on.

Now I just had to figure out how to bring it up… It wasn’t until we were outside the classroom that I decided to just come out and say it.

“You know, I could help you out with this class.”

“You?” She seemed far too doubtful. “Really?”

Did she really think that little of me? “Hey now, just because I’m hot and sexy as hell doesn’t mean I can’t be smart too. You should know.”

“Right,” she scoffed. But I wasn’t sure if the scoff was directed towards my comments about me or about her. She obviously knew how smart she was. But she had to know how attractive she was, too. I almost said something, but then I caught sight of the way her forehead was scrunched up a bit and the way the corner of her mouth twitched. She was considering my offer.

“No strings?”

“What kind of strings would I attach, Y/L/N?”

She stopped right outside the door and turned to stare at me. I wasn’t unused to having people’s eyes on me, but something about Y/N unnerved me. I tried my hardest not to let it show, though.

She was so close to accepting. I could see it. I just needed to find the right way to tip her over the edge. Coming right out and offering to help her seemed to get her attention. Suppose it couldn’t hurt to be completely truthful.

“Okay. Fine. One string,” I amended.

“Ha! I knew it.”

Tell it like it is. Y/N was friends with Natasha. She had to be used to blunt truths. If I was completely upfront with her, my chances at actually being her friend had to be better, right?

“One string…” I looked straight at her. “Friendship. That’s it. I promise. I’ll help you, but you have to admit that we’re friends.”

“Why?” She was completely taken aback. I guess that friendship wasn’t a request she ever expected from, what had she called me two weeks ago? The campus playboy bad boy?

Since the truth thing seemed to be working, I kept with it. I knew exactly how she would take my reasons, so I just decided to own up to them. “Alright, this is going to make me sound like a complete douche, but it’s the truth, I swear.”

“Spit it out, Buck.”

Buck. Not Bucky. Not Barnes. That was a good sign.

“I like this.” I gestured between us as if there were some sort of a string, or an invisible blob of whatever the hell our relationship was at the moment. “Because you’re not into me. Besides Nat, you’re the only other woman who doesn’t try to get my attention or get into my pants. It’s refreshing.”

Her face twisted into fake sympathy. “Poor Bucky. It must be so hard to have all the women falling over themselves for you. Being the resident sex-god must just be the worst.”

Resident sex-god. Campus playboy bad boy. I would have to file these away for the next time I updated my resume.

I mean, she was right to some degree. “I know, I know. Douchey, right?”

“It’s conceited, is what it is.” Now that the offer was out there and she could start processing everything, she started moving again. I easily kept pace. “I can guarantee you that Nat and I are not the only women who don’t wanna sleep with you. You just never notice the girls who don’t pay any attention to you.”

And that’s why I needed her to be my friend. That’s why I needed her in my life. She called me out on my bullshit and took my ego down a notch. If I was ever going to make it through whatever drama comes with Rebecca, I needed people like her around me.

“You’re probably right. But about our deal, whattaya say, friend?” I had one last argument up my sleeve. “Besides, we’re gonna spend a lot of time together anyway, with Nat and Steve dating. Might as well accept the inevitable.”

She glanced at her watch again, reading the message that came up. Her lips quirked up at the message, then she looked up at me and her smile changed a little, but it was still a smile. That was a good sign.

“Let’s see how the first study session goes.”

My grin was instantaneous. I was going to be late for my next class if I didn’t hurry, so I started walking backwards, away from wherever she was heading. “Tomorrow at one? Grab some lunch while we’re at it?”

“I have to work all day. I can do Wednesday at one though.”

It would be tight with my schedule, but I couldn’t chance her cancelling. “I’ll meet you at your place with food then. See ya later, friend!”

----

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houseofvans · 7 years ago

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ART SCHOOL | MICHAEL C. HSIUNG | VANS US OPEN 2018

Michael C. Hsiung has a special imagination, one filled with mermen, dragons, creative landscapes and intriguing narratives. His humorous illustrations will evoke your inner child and leave you wanting more. If only everyone could see the world through his eyes, maybe we’d live life a bit more light-heartedly. Now let’s dive into who this creative genius is and what he created on this year’s Vans US Open skate and BMX course.

Photographs courtesy of Ginger Caranto

What is your background? I was born in Chinatown, Los Angeles and raised in the San Fernando Valley. My folks emigrated from Taiwan to the US in the mid-late 70’s, and I grew up in Northridge where I discovered art, comic books, fantasy, skateboarding, Dungeons & Dragons and heavy metal. Now, I’m a self taught artist who has been lucky enough to draw and show my art to folks who hopefully like a good chuckle or two.

How did you get into art? My childhood was always filled with drawing, scribbling, and coloring books. I was always really stoked on comic book art, Dungeons & Dragons artwork, Pushead, Frazetta, Gorey and anything with skulls or dragons.

How did you start making art / what drives you to continue to do so? I grew up doodling, coloring, and using my imagination to play and have fun. So naturally I always kept a sketchbook or journal to record my thoughts through drawings or doodles. Tried endlessly to draw my own comic to no avail. Eventually I stopped drawing for a long time because I just didn’t think my drawings were good enough. I didn’t think I had the talent for it, so I stopped. Years passed . . . I didn’t find myself drawing anymore, not until, I moved back to Los Angeles in 2007. I was hanging out with my old skate friends, and one of them was making art (Mike Stilkey - amazing artist), as was my sister, Pearl. They both encouraged me to draw with them while we chilled out from nights out on the town or when we were killing time. It was the perfect window for me to create and revisit drawing.

Eventually with enough encouragement through my friends and various random folks on the internet, I started to draw more and more. This eventually led to me showing work, taking on projects, and ultimately finding a purpose for myself. That was about 10 years ago, and it has been quite the ride. What drives me to continue has changed over the years, as I think it does for most folks who try and make a living doing art or freelance. It isn’t a easy career, though it may seem super fun and exciting, which it is of course. But also there’s what the reality is too– it is a lot of work, sacrifice and constant ups and downs. That being said, drawing is so much a part of who I am that while it has its challenges I know if I stopped, I’d be unsatisfied with life. I draw and make art to keep my sanity, and hopefully bring joy to folks who come across it.

Who are your biggest influences? Hands down my older sister Pearl who is an amazing artist and painter. She was always drawing me things or painting my door with cool comic characters. Later on in life, she encouraged me to draw again, just for the therapy side of having an outlet.

What does your creative process entail? My process has changed over the years. I used to just sit down, draw immediately, form ideas, and BOOM – that would continue for many years. Nowadays, I really have to find time and a spark or inspiration, then spend the hours sitting, pondering, sketching, and erasing before I even get to the point of wanting to pen in the lines. Sometimes I chuck things before they have even been half way finished. It is hard not to overthink what you do when you’ve been doing it for a bit, but I try and stay fresh by focusing on ideas and interests that inspire me. I also try and create a fun and relaxed environment in my studio with little to few distractions–almost as if to take me back to when I was a kid drawing just for drawing’s sake.

What is your most important artist tool? Is there something you can’t live without in your studio? My most important artist tool is my imagination. Growing up I was lucky to really have to use my own imagination to play and create worlds, which has helped me as an artist. Imagination and creativity is what gives life to my art.

Many of your drawings feature a hybrid animal. Who is this character and what does he represent to you? I think the first hybrid animals I started drawing were merman. I am fascinated by mythology and old tales, so I wanted to re-imagine what these creatures were like, who they were, and why the mermaids left them. I started to create these stories in my head, so I wanted to draw out my own narrative. I love reading and exploring the origins of mythological creatures such as centaurs, harpies, satyrs and then re-creating my own tales about them in the modern world or with modern vices. They allow me to explore the world in a different way as well as express my passion for cryptozoology, mythology, and fantasy.

Where do you find inspiration for your work? Inspiration is a strange thing, but I get inspired by things I read, strange facts, old books, sometimes movies, adventurers, old tales, friend antics, mythology, fantasy, crystals, nature, skateboarding and the list goes on. I try and let my mind find other interests that can inspire my work in a new direction.

How has your style changed over your career? When I started drawing again in 2007 my art was looser, naive, and more freeform but thematically I was drawing what I touch upon now. I was and am still drawing mermen, weird animals, and strange people. I’ve worked on honing my ideas, drawing with intention, and making my art cleaner, straighter and well executed. That’s what happens when you start to show art with other amazing artists - it makes you up your stuff!

Can you tell us about the mural you created for the Vans Park Series course? This year for the Vans Park Series course I created four different painted illustrated pieces–a bear skating on all his paws, a Slip-On shoe wizard, a mustached dude on a log board, and a bear with a sun hat on one as well.

The bear on the board is a character I’ve been drawing for a few years. She’s kind of a combo of a California State bear, a friend and a reference to my last name, which in Chinese translates to BEAR. Bet you didn’t see that one coming ha.

Well I’m super into wizards and super into Slip-Ons, so it was just a natural thing that came to being hah. I did that piece for my wife Rachel too! I even added some crystals for her since she’s a total rock hound.

The last character is just a rad cruiser dude who I imagine seeing all over town just laying back on his deck with his road soda. Just enjoying life.

What is your favorite part about painting a mural? My favorite part about painting the mural is when you see it getting shredded by all the amazing skateboarders!

What was the painting experience like working with multiple artists on the course? It’s such a great bonding experience when you’re painting a huge skate course in 3 days with other artists. I love seeing everyone’s approach, style and learning about their art and who they are.

It was my first time meeting Benjamn Marasco and Ellen Rutt, and I have to say those are some inspiring folks. They tackled their massive murals within tough conditions and never flinched. I love that.

It is always fun to work alongside Jack Graydon! He’s the best. You wanna learn about spray paint? Jack’s your man. You need help with a color choice, Jack is the man!

Then it was a special treat to work with artist and bud Phil Morgan. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was real special. We helped keep each other on track and just like always bounce ideas off each other. Lots of time I feel like you’re working out your problems in the bowl with other artists. It’s fun!

Do you have a favorite memory from your time spent at the US Open? So many fun and memorable moments, but my favorite memory from the time in the park was definitely the last day when we were all finished with our murals and sitting together on the spine looking around and checking out each other’s pieces. I mean you spend most of the time there focusing on your mural and painting that you don’t actually get to see each other’s work before it gets skated - so that end moment is special :)

What was the most challenging part of the mural you created? The most challenging part of the mural really is the weather (super hot in the bowl!) and painting on the transition. You don’t realize how many muscles start working until you wake up the next morning. Standing and balancing while trying to paint a straight line is probably the hardest part, but you learn to get loose and go with the flow. Let it flow!

Do you have any advice for people who have dreams of becoming an artist? My advice to people who have the dream of becoming an artist–if you have a great imagination, feed it with books, music, art, and play a board game once in a while.

Follow Michael on Instagram and check out his online shop here.

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Vansusopen #vansskate #Michael Hsiung #Interview #Art School #Huntington #Mural #artists #Humor

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smol-gay-werewolf · 6 years ago

Text

Hunger

Warnings: cannibalism, blood, gore, Character death

Kyoya struggles to keep his mind on track, ends up letting something in that he thought he had repressed.

The music was way too loud, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. I told him to stick with classical but he just had to go with the ‘cool new commoner music’. He’s an idiot, I don’t think he realises that not everything commoners do is magic and amazing and whatever else he thinks it is.

But I’m being mean again, Fiyumi keeps telling me about that. It’s not like I try to be, I guess it just comes with being ‘pessimistic’ as she calls it. I don’t eve- Wait, I’m getting off track again...where was I?

ah yes, I was leaning against a wall in the corner of the ballroom. We were hosting another ball, it was after halloween but Tamaki had insited that we postpone the ball because he wanted to try ‘trick-or-treating’, I don’t understand why we couldn’t just buy the sweets.

Surprisingly I don’t understand much that he does, but that’s beyond the point. The point is that the music was loud, I don’t like loud. I leave the party, no one noticed, they never do.

That’s why I’m the shadow king, when they hear the term they assume that it’s because I’m the hidden power in the club but in all honesty Ibelieve that it’s because I can go places the others would never be able to and do things that they would struggle to comprehend.

Or am I just being mean again?

Anyway where am I now? Oh I’m in the club room, I sit down at my normal table and open my black book. It’s a new page, I take my pen and swirl the ink into a spiral. It’s not so blank anymore, I draw some more. I find these little doodles very calming, they keep my mind blank. I unload my thoughts onto the page in the form of black ink.

A noise snaps me out of my calm state, what was that? It sounded liek some sort of ani- Oh, it was just me. I’m a little hungry, I’ve hardly eaten today. It’s fine though, I’ll have some crackers and cheese later. Now back to doodling.

It’s been about half an hour since I left the party and still no one has noticed, I don’t mind though, it gives me more time to doodle. Speaking of my doodles..they seem to be a bit darker and more messy then when I started. I sigh and turn the page, having run out of room. I stare down at the page and...I just can't seem to concentrate on my doodles.

I stand up and go to look out the window, it's rather late and yet I can still hear the booming music from up here. It's not as loud though and it brings a strange feeling to the night, what with the smell of sweets and sugary things as well.

I can hear footsteps, has someone come to check on me? I wonder who it i- oh it's Renge, Haruhi must of sent her to check on me.

"Kyoya? Haruhi told me to see where you'd gone, why did you leave the party?"

Why did I leave the party? I would have thought that was obvious but I guess not. She sits at my table and looks at me curiously.

"I left the party because the music was giving me a headache."

She nods. "That makes sense, you could have told someone though." I could have told someone? Why would I do that? They were all busy hosting and I wouldn't want to disturb them, besides its not like I need to ask permission to leave a party. I'm not a child, though I suppose legally speaking I am but so is everyone else in that aspect. I guess that excludes Honey and Mori though but mentally speaking Honey is certainly a child. Speaking of whi-

"Uhh...Kyoya?"

"Yes?"

Oh dear I had gotten off track again, what had she even asked me? .

"Are you OK? You seem a little off."

"Oh? Well I don't see why, I'm perfectly fine."

I guess I'm ok, I mean I'm a little hungry but other then that there's nothing wrong with me. Although I really should get a snack soon. Renge nods slowly and smiles. "Do you mind if I hang here with you? I do like parties but I don't want you to get lonely."

I nod slightly. Lonely? Have I ever actually been lonely? I mean I've been alone but that's not the same thing... Money is when your sad because your alone isn't it? No I don't think I've ever felt that.

She smiles as I sit down opposite her, I don't doodle because that's rude to do in a one on one conversation but I do tap my fingers on my dress pants. I've got to keep my thought in line somehow.

Speaking of my thought, right now I'm thinking of food. I'm actually really hungry, I don't think that a plate of cheese and crackers will cut it. I need something bigg-

No. Bad Kyoya, we can't do that. That's a disgusting thought, you shouldn't be having these thoughts anymore, keep them hidden. Ok, I need a distraction, what's Renge doing? Oh she's talking to me? What's she saying? Something about those silly dating games she plays.

I can’t concerntrate on what she’s saying, I need to doodle. I open my book again and put the pen to paper. It help me focus, I listen to her rant. I’d never play one of her games but her voice makes a welcome distraction to the ones in my head.

After a while I look down at my doodles..oh god..what the hell is wrong with me?

I’ve drawn Renge, but I’ve drawn her torn open..blood and guts have become swirls and flowers. It’s not something I’d normally draw but..I’ve drawn something similar in the past...No, I’m not the same child. I have dignity, I have sanity, I have a reason not to.

But I’m hungry...

I stand up, I don’t really know why I just do. Renge looks up at me. “Are you ok there buddy?” I ignore her, that’s rude, why do I do that? I walk behind her, oh no... I grab her neck and grip it tightly, she looks shocked and struggles.

Please...I don’t want this...

I dig my nails into her neck, breaking the skin. I watch her shudder with pain, she’s oddly quiet. Luckily for me.

No! It’s not lucky! SCREAM!! SNAP ME OUT OF THIS STUPID TRANCE! I DON’T WANT THIS!! CALL FOR HELP!! DO SOMETHING!!

I force my fingers into the side of her neck, she goes to scream but passes out from pain. I grip the sides and rip her neck in two, blood goes everywhere, it’s on the table, it’s on my shirt, it’s on the floor, it’s on my face.

OH GOD I HAVE DONE A TERRIBLE THING I AM SO SORRY!! SOMEONE STOP ME HOLY SHIT I NEED HELP!

I reach my hand down her throat, pulling out her insides. I let it fall to the floor as I grab her by the shoulders and pull her to the ground. I remove her clothes and toss them across the room, they’d only get in my way.

Her skin is so easily torn by my hand, it’s so smooth, the only inperfections are made by me as I tear her open to reveal the glistening crimson insides. I scoop up a handful of the red stuff. It’s taste is so sweet and yet so bitter, I can help but to have more. I see small teardrops fall onto the body, it adds just a tiny bit of salt flavour to the meat.

PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!! MAKE ME STOP!! I DON’T LIKE THIS! I DON’T WANT THIS!! I HATE THIS!! PLEASE!!! I CAN’T STOP MYSELF!!!

I hear footsteps, I ignore them in order to keep eating. It seems that I can not stop devouring the beautiful red flesh. This gives me some sort of strange pleasure, I just can’t get enough.

Please...please just stop...I can’t take it...OH NO WHAT WAS THAT?!

I hear a scream and turn in the direction of the noise. It’s Haruhi, she’s staring at me and what I’ve done. She run forward and shoves me away from her, then kneeling and crying over what was once Renge Houshakuji.

I hit my head on the table, it snaps me out of this wicked trance I was in. I instantly curl up under the table, tucking my knees under my chin. There is both blood and tears on my face, only the tears are mine.

I watch as Haruhi holds Renges body close, picking the corpse up and laying her on a chaise lounge.

Does she not understand how much those things are wor- No, Bad Kyoya. That’s not the point, a friend is dead because of you.

She glares at me and frowns. “Stay. Do NOT move from where you are. Understand?” I can bearly nod before she leaves the room. I curl up some more, I’m shaking.

Oh god she hates me. She has good reason to hate me. I deserve to be hated. They’re all going to hate me and I deserve it all.

After a few moments, Haruhi returns with the rest of the club following her. She shows them the body and most of them gasp, Honey is the first to start crying. The others are crying but silently, Tamaki brushes Renges hair out of her face and mutters something the french before turning to Haruhi.

“Who...Who did this..?”

“Kyoya did.”

More gasps, mumbles and mutters circulate around the small group. I curl in on myself more, trying to disapear entirely. I shut my eyes tight, really wanting to disapear.

“You’re joking right? Kyoya would never do something like that, he’s not a bad person. Just because he acts a little off at times just not give you the right to-”

“Tamaki. I’m not lying, I promise.”

“But..he wouldn’t..”

“He has. But I don’t think he wanted to.”

“huh?”

I can hear their footsteps appoaching where I am, I shake my head repeatedly. I’m slowly rocking back and forth.

I hate this..I want to go home...I need my mommy...I need a hug.....I don’t like this...I really don’t like this..

Haruhi pushes my table away, I can hear her. I can feel their eyes all staring down at him.

“Wow...”

“Kyoy-”

“I’M SORRYY!”

I fall forward, arm on the floor. In a bow, not looking at anything but the floor. I’m shaking and sobbing uncontrolably. I hate this..YOU’RE WEAK!

“P-PLEASE! I’M SO SORRYYY!! I DID...I DIDN’T MEAN TO!! I HAD NO CONTROL OVER MYSELF!!”

I can feel their judging gaze, I can hear their little murmurs as they disguss what has happened and what I am saying.

“I think he’s telling the truth, he did have an animalistic look on his face when I caught him.”

“Yes but we can’t ignore the fact that he’s killed someone...”

“...and not just someone, Renge of all people...”

“...and not only did he kill her, he ate her!..”

“...are we really just going to forge-”

“Enough! Both of you. Look at poor Kyo~Chan, he’s not himself.”

“But do we even know...”

“...who he really is anymore ?”

“p-p-please...believe me...at least grace me with that...”

Tamaki grabs both of my hands and pulls me up to stand, I can hardly manage it, I’m shaking too much. He gives me a sympathetic smile, more little pitying.

“I’ve known you for over two years now Kyoya, I refuse to believe that you would murder someone without good reason. Am I correct?”

I give a small nod as he guides me to a seat. He holds me by the shoulders and sits me down, crouching next to me and holding my hands.

“So am I write to assume that you’re trying to tell us that your lost control of your body?”

I nod slowly, finally plucking up the curage to look him in the eyes. “Y-yes...”

“And you understand how ridiculous that sounds?”

“please...I-I know how it sounds...but....I swear it’s the truth..”

Tamaki slowly nods, clearly still not sure wether to belive me or not. I can see the others, they clearly aren’t convinced. I don’t like this...

Well I can help

No. No you can’t.

“Ok then Kyoya, can you please explain what you mean?”

“O-oh, of cour-”

Tell them about me and I’ll kill them all.

I stop halfway through my sentance and look down. The other look at me in confusion.

“I...can’t...”

“Well why not?”

“I’m not...I’m not allowed”

They all look confused, Hikaru rolls his eyes, prompting Kaoru to hit him gently.

“Who’s stopping you?”

Tell them, go on. I DARE you.

“I...I...”

“Go on Kyoya, it’s ok.”

Oh yes, do go on~

I start shaking my head.

No! I won’t..I WON’T LET YOU!

“Kyoya..? It’s ok, you can tell us”

“I CAN’T!! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I-I JUST DON’T WANT YOU TO GET HURT!!”

They looked between eachother then back at me in confusion.

Don’t you see? You’ve ruined everything, they’ll never trust you again.

JUST SHUT UP!! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!! NOT ME!

But I’m not real, how could I have doen anything?

I cover my ears, I scream to drown out the noise. The others all panic, Tamaki quickly wipes my eyes and tried to move my hand away from my ear.

“Kyo-Kyoya listen to me.”

I- No wait...

I let out a dark chuckle, looking up and those poor little idiots. I stand, looking up to face them. They of course notice my little switch I made with Kyoya. I step towards them, smirking at how they cower away.

“You know...I know I’ve just eaten, but...”

I lick my lips and walk around them to lock the door. Their eyes widen and they back away slowly, the blonde one sighs.

“Kyoya...”

Cute, he thinks Kyoya has power still.

“Nope, not Kyoya, not anymore.”

He slowly takes a step ba- wait no, forwards, towards me.

“Then who?”

I laugh, a beautiful laugh that sends shivers down their spines (in theory).

“My name? oh my dear, my name is Yami~”

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