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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook��” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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aus-from-undertale · 3 years ago

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AUs that I personally love with all my heart 👉👈

(kinda thought it was a good ideia to make this list if you are a new follower and don't know from where to start :)

Inverted fate - It's my favorite AU. I'm trying hard to control my feelings while I writing this so I'm just going to say: READ IT

Horrortale - The angst and the world settings are so GOOOD

Echotale - Actually, it was the first Frans AU that I read. The story is so cute and I love mah G! Sans

UT Mob - Every now and then I squeeze in my post how much I love this AU. Everything is perfect. EVERYTHING!

Soulfell - One of my favorite AUs that are Underfell like 👉👈 it's a really fun read

Dusttale - Forgive me Dust!Sans, but your AU is so INTERESTING AAAAA

Caretaker of the ruins - ROOTING FOR THE PROTAGONIST TO LOSE IS SO FUN!

Aftertale - the art style and the story are all so good!

Errortale - That's right bitches! I'm recommending an ask blog! NOW READ IT ALL MUAHAHA

Underplayer - it was my first time watching a fandub, im glad it was about such an INTERESTING AU

Burstale - Chara kinda going genocide for like the 100th time is interesting (And she hot tho 👉👈)

Playbacktale - The ideia is so FUN =) i love this

Epictale - THATS RIGHT! I love this solely because gaster is a hottie with a lil' hat! Don't judge me >:0

Dogs of future past - Everything this author makes is precious, bloody hell

Flavor text Chara - Chara I wuv u 💕

Sans the Seraphim - Sans kinda became a hottie after being possessed by seven souls 👉👈

Underline - THIS IS SO GOOD! It's like a headcanon for all the stuff we can't really explain in undertale

Mergetale - SANS AND FRISK ON THE SAME BODY?! HELL YEAH

Darker yet Darker - i love mah bone bros

Drunk! Chara - Chara I wuv u 💕 (but stop fucking drinking)

Handplate - one of my favorite AUs about the bone bros

Alterverse - THE CUTEST MULTIVERSE AM I RIGHT

Name the Fallen - oh, I'll take the extremely creepy Papyrus thank you very much :D

Bromalgamate - mah bone bros becoming amalgamates is so cute 💕

Underfresh - Fresh, i don't understand you at all... But I LOVE YOU

UT circus - it kinda reminds me of UT Mob, but it's circus lol

Burstale - CHARA IS A HOTTIE PROTAGONIST IN A MANGA UHUUU

Undertoad- the mix between Mario and undertale is so cute! But the sprites are the highlight of this AU for sure

Chocoblook - Choco and Frisk fighting kinda reminds of me and my bro lok

Littletale- EVERYONE IS SMOL AND CUTE! WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR?!

Systematic restore - the concept of this AU is very interesting :0

Delta Experiment - for the fans of Deltarune and Undertale :D

Alive - ALIVE WAS MY HEART AFTER READING THIS BANGER

UT gangster Au - Yes. Another gangster AU. At least I got my priorities straight >:0

Refinedtale - What do you mean it isn't the "ultimate happy ending"?! Everytime I see daddy Gaster trying his best, my heart skips a beat >:/

The skeleton games- i didn't sleep and I have no regrets. The slow romance and fluffiness with the violent Underfell is a great combination. And the protagonist is one of my favorites of all time

Fatal error- the character is so interesting aaaaa Geno and Error is a nice combination. And the creepiness is top tier ✨

Fellswapx- Toriel is so mean, i love it 💕

Unexpected guests- UMM EXCUSE ME, DID YOU SAY DRAGON FREAKING GASTER BLASTERS?!

Underwar- Sans is so op aaaaa

Ragnartale- not really into the love triangle but the story grew on me SO HARD

Flowey-is-not-a-good-life-coach- ah yes, the angst is very tasty thank you

Growth Spurt AU - Asriel my beloved

Leaf gaster bros- ITS TOO MUCH CUTENESS BETWEEN THE GASTER BROS AAAAA

Reversed context - I LOVE THE CONCEPT! ACTING IS BAD AND FIGHTING IS GOOD

Ask the fallen royalty-OH IM OBSESSED EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE

Eldritchrune- normally I don't recommend concept aus but oh my oh my so gooooooood

Over the void - MK, Frisk and Asriel enter a portal u.u LOVE IT 7AGAGSJWJWK

Shifter au- an Au where Papyrus chose to give his life to a parasite shape shifter when he was a child!

Ghost switch - LOVE THE CONCEPT OF THE DEAD KIDS EXCHANGING THEIR ROLE DAAMNN

Spitetale- love that even Chara be like "yo frisk chill the fuck up* on a genocide run

Pedia's Clover - absolutely fun and adorable au with takes of Clover from Undertale yellow!

I would be grateful for any feedbacks or even list ideias :)

Enjoy 💕

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lovely-angst · 4 years ago

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number ‘x’ fan

a/n: um, this was a good idea in theory until i started writing it and then suddenly i wanted to trash this fic lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: a trip to Hawks’ agency gone wrong when a crazed fan runs their car into a pregnant you and your two young sons

word count: 5k

05.05.21

If there was something the nation of Japan adored more than Pro Hero Hawks himself, it was his wife and the little family he had with her. His family was something he always talked about when given any opportunity.

To think it had already been five years since Hawks introduced you to the world still baffles you.

When he had come up to you that one day, bringing up the dreaded question of finally bringing you and the kids into the public and media for all of the world to see—you were very nervous, to say the least.

You knew how terrible the media could be with all of the gossip and drama. You weren’t sure if you could handle all of the attraction so suddenly. But your husband Hawks was always so reassuring and in the most nonpressuring way possible.

“If you’re not ready, that’s totally okay! I just thought it would be more beneficial for us if the whole world knew who you guys are,” he said gently as he brought his gloved hand towards your cheek with the softest smile. “I just want the world to finally know about my beautiful family. I don’t want to keep you guys a secret anymore.”

You couldn’t help but melt into his hand, bringing your own to rub those cute little avian features on his eyes gently. “I know, you sweet bird,” you coo, watching how his lips curve up the slightest. “I just don’t know how this could benefit us.”

“Honey, the world is going to love you. They’re going to love our boys. From the pro heroes to the supportive fans I have, we have, they’ll want to protect you too. Trust me.”

Staring up into those comforting golden eyes, you took a deep breath before nodding. Of course, you’ll trust him.

And soon, the fated day of your “debut” was finally here. In your arms, you held your sweet one year old boy, Yuto, while your three year old, Kazuto, clung onto Hawks’ legs adorably.

Though you were very nervous with all of the photographers and news outlets all around you when you turned to glance over at Hawks and saw that proud and genuine smile on his face, all of your fears washed away.

Thinking back on the memory, you let out a content sigh as a smile grew on your face. Thankfully, those last five years flew by quite smoothly with the occasional rough bumps with his angry fan club, nothing that worried you terribly.

And while life was going great for you and your growing family with Hawks, it was going terrible for a self-proclaimed number one Hawks fan.

Clutching the newspaper tightly, their eyes reread the words on the front page for the hundredth time.

‘Pro Hero Hawks shows his seven-month pregnant wife some PDA!’ with a photo caught by the paparazzi showing the two of you sharing a kiss while holding hands.

The violent grip she held on the paper caused rips before letting out an angry scream, tearing the thin material into thousands of pieces letting it pool around her like snowflakes.

Hearing Hawks’ voice coming through the television, she finally snapped out of her thoughts and tuned in focus again, turning to face the television behind her. Her eyebrow irked in irritation as she watched how he wrapped a hand around her waist lovingly and securely.

“I don’t know what I would do without her,” Hawks beams to the reporter who had asked about you, “I mean, have you seen her? She’s the prettiest lady I have ever laid my eyes on and the most amazing wife and mother to our kids!”

“People say she is blessed to be married to me, but I can say for sure I am extremely blessed to be married to her”

Roughly turning the television off, the fan stormed into her bedroom before slamming the door shut behind her, causing the walls to shake. “How could you do this to me!” she screamed as she ran up to tear at the photos of Hawks she had glued on the walls of her bedroom, causing the covered walls to become bare again. “I thought you loved me! I showed you unconditional love! I’m your biggest fan! Everything was going great until that—that wench showed up!”

Boxes and figurines were tossed around, swung off shelves, quickly turning the room into a mess of Hawks merchandise.

It wasn’t until she finally looked over at her makeshift Hawks shrine that she let out a sigh, a smile growing on her lips. “Hawks, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it,” she cooed, walking up to the Hawks shrine before kneeling down in front of it. Reaching over to brush her finger gently over the photo of the two of them—a photo she managed to obtain at a VIP fan meet.

Pressing onto the photo where Hawks stood, she continued to stare at it lovingly, “I know you love me, Hawks. I’ll make sure that it will be just us again.”

“Yuto, Kazuto, hurry up and get dressed so we can visit papa at work,” you say from in the kitchen as you finished preparing lunch for the four of you—five, if you include the baby growing in your belly.

“I can’t find the Endeavor doll papa gave me!” Yuto cries, running into the kitchen with tears. Turning around, you offer the boy a gentle smile before brushing your hand through his soft blonde hair.

“Yuto, we can bring the Endeavor doll another time, okay? What if he gets lost today in papa’s big work building? That would be very sad, wouldn’t it?” You prompt and Yuto looks down before giving you a nod.

“We can find him together when we get back, okay? Right now, papa is waiting for us to come see him and he’s going to show you all of the cool stuff he does! We can wear our Hawks jacket instead to match papa. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Hearing your words, the bright red wings on his back fluff up and flutter in joy before he runs back to his room in joy. “Okay, mama!”

Placing the fried chicken into each container neatly, you covered the lids on them and placed them in the bag nicely before Kazuto walks in and takes the bag, hauling it over his shoulder. “I got it, mom.”

“Oh, honey, it might be heavy,” you try, but Kazuto shakes his head, “Don’t worry, plus your belly might make you tired, so I’ll carry this for you.”

Quick little platters rang in the air before Yuto popped back into the kitchen beside his older brother, “I’m ready, mama!”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute they were, looking so handsome, just like their dad.

“Okay boys, put your shoes on and let’s head out the door to papa’s agency.”

And it was such a beautiful day for a walk. The sun was out with little to no clouds and there was just the right amount of breeze that helped keep the three of you cool during these summer days.

Even though Hawks’ agency was just a 20-minute walk, he kept insisting on calling you a cab so you wouldn’t have to walk so far with the boys while pregnant. Of course, you declined, saying how it would be healthy for you and the baby to get fresh air and to walk around—to which he finally and hesitantly agreed on before adding a “call me when you get here.”

It was a normal occurrence getting greeted by Hawks fans on your outings like today. Most of them along the lines of, “(Name)-san! You look great today!” or “Love to see you and the boys healthy!” and not to mention, “I love you guys!”

It was sweet seeing supportive fans that your hard-working husband has.

“Ah, look! There is papa’s agency!” you say, pointing to the large and tall building, watching how your sons’ eyes lit up in awe. “Wow!” Yuto exclaims, turning over to you while fluttering his wings. “Papa works there?”

“Yep! Let’s go and give him a surprise!”

Walking over to the crosswalk just in front of the agency, you held Yuto’s hand in yours as the three of you waited for the signal to change to allow you to cross the road. “The roads are empty today, but we still need to watch for cars,” you point out to your boys as they began to look both ways.

Everyone was busy at work, so no one was on the roads besides some parked cars. The crosswalk signal changed and played a tune while you and the boys began to cross the street towards Hawks’ agency to meet up with your dear husband.

The sound of squealing tires from beside you had caught your attention and once you turned your head, it was already too late to dodge the oncoming vehicle speeding towards you and the boys.

Gasping, you tried your best to push your boys out of the way as much as you could, but it wasn’t enough.

The corner of the car was still able to hit Yuto and Kazuto, sending them crashing a few feet away from you.

Unfortunately for you, the vehicle slammed head onto you. Rolling onto the hood, your head crashed into the windshield, smashing it and rolling off. A small pool of blood forming underneath your head as the car sped off.

Your head rang as your vision slowed significantly. Turning your head, you see your boys on the ground more than an arms length away from you as they struggled to get up.

Placing a shaky hand on your belly, you just hoped and prayed your baby was safe from the impact, but it wasn’t looking too good for you, you noted.

It was surprising to you all the thoughts and information were able to process through your head after such an event.

A crowd quickly formed around you and the boys as the voices began fading into the background as your conscious state was beginning to fade.

“My boys...” you say weakly to the stranger, eyes fluttering shut as your attempts to stay awake failed. “Ma’am! Keep your eyes open! Someone call for help!”

“Get H-Hawks,” you tried once more before you succumbed to the drowsiness. Suddenly, it clicked in someone’s mind. “That’s Hawks’ wife and kids! His agency is just down the road! Someone get him!”

Kazuto slowly sat up from the rough fall, looking down at himself to spot any injuries. Spreading his wings, they seemed to be in mint condition, although his hip throbbed and his leg was slightly bruising from the impact. It wasn’t until he heard Yuto sobbing that he turned to check on his younger brother.

Yuto was beside him, face scrunched up, shaking and sobbing as his eyes met those of his brothers. “I think my wing is broken,” Yuto informed, turning to give his older brother a glance of his droopy wing.

And before Kazuto could turn to check on you, a stranger stepped in his view, blocking him from the gruesome scene where his mother lay. “Hey there, friends, it looks like you both got a little bit hurt. The ambulance is on it’s way to take you and your mom to the hospital, so don’t worry. I’ll sit here with you guys and keep you safe, okay?”

The two boys could only nod.

Hawks spun around in his swivel chair eagerly as he waited for his wife and kids to arrive. Sighing, he took out his phone for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, glancing at the last text message you sent.

From: wifey <3

‘Be there in five minutes! see you soon papa bird! <3’

But it had already been half an hour since your text. He knew that sometimes the boys took a little bit longer to get out of the house, but this was a bit off. Maybe he was just being a little impatient.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and he immediately got up to answer it, wings fluttering with excitement. But when he opened the door to find his assistant looking all frazzled, he raised a brow. “What’s up?”

“Hawks, your family,” they stammered, out of breath from running around the large building. “They’ve been in a bad accident in front of the agency. A car-”

Before they could even finish, Hawks had spun around and jumped through a large open window from his office before flying down towards where they had mentioned.

His eyes darted around quickly before catching sight of a large crowd. Sending his feathers down, his heart froze when he recognized you and his boys down there.

From the height he was at, he could already tell it wasn’t looking good. He could spot his boys’ wings from here, thankfully, shooting down towards them.

He just wanted to see his wife and kids and they end up getting hit by some low life?

Hawks landed quickly at the scene before rushing over towards his boys, who immediately noticed their father’s large wings. “Dad!”

Falling onto his knees, his hands roamed around their smaller bodies, checking for injuries before bringing them both in for a hug, relieved to see them alive and breathing. “Are you two okay?” Where does it hurt?”

“My body hurts a bit and Yuto’s wing might be broken,” Kazuto informed before Hawks immediately checked Yuto’s wing before he let out a sigh, “Just a sprain. Don’t worry, birdie.” he replies, pressing a kiss to his youngest’s head.

“Stay here, I’m going to go check on mom. These nice people will help you two, okay? I’m here now, don’t worry.” Hawks said firmly to the boys, giving them one last embrace before the stranger before stepped back in to stay with the boys as Hawks ran over to find you.

Once his eyes spotted you, he felt like his heart had stopped and died there and then.

To put it plainly, you looked dead—blood soaked clothes, unconscious and limp on the ground as the paramedics prepared the stretcher for you.

“(Name)!” Hawks called out, running to your body only to be stopped by a paramedic. “I’m sorry Hawks, but it’s best if you leave the rest to us.”

“W-where is she going?” Hawks asked as he watched them gently place your injured body onto the stretcher, following beside them and peeking at you the best he could. “We’re going to transport her to the nearest hospital. We have to check and make sure we don’t lose the baby. We don’t have time for any more questions,” and with that, they carefully lifted you into the ambulance and drove off, leaving him there with a million unanswered questions.

He wished he could be by your side, but right now, his boys needed him.

It didn’t take Hawks long to arrive at the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto. Reaching the emergency desk, Hawks immediately asked for you before receiving an answer that stopped his already shaking heart.

“There has been complications with her pregnancy, so they have to conduct an emergency C-section to try and save the baby,” they inform, Hawks’ blood turning ice cold.

“C-Section? But she’s only seven months along! The baby isn’t ready!” He cried, wings even more frazzled than before. “I understand your concern. That is why we will do our best to make sure the baby is as healthy as possible.”

Hawks could only stare in shock before turning to his two young boys, who looked up at him worried.

“Is mama going to be okay?” Yuto asked, his wing still drooping behind him. Hawks offered a small but weak smile, “the doctors are doing their best to make mama feel better. While they help mama, we need to get you two checked to make sure you’re doing okay,” Hawks continued, lifting Yuto into his arms.

“How’s it going, Kazuto? Does your leg hurt too much?” Kazuto shakes his head, “It hurts, but I can still walk slowly.” Hawks nods before reaching over to push his son’s hair back as the three walk to get the boys checked on.

“Hawks?” hear a soft female voice, Hawks quickly turned to see Fuyumi walking towards them with a small smile. Hawks quickly stands to greet the friendly face, “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Fuyumi.”

“Don’t worry about it, dad seemed worried when he told me about your situation. Anything to help a friend, right?” she says and Hawks couldn’t help but give her a relieved smile.

“Well, these are my boys. Kazuto is my oldest and Yuto is youngest. Well, with our new baby, Miyako will be the youngest,” Hawks explains as the two boys stand beside him, looking up at Fuyumi.

“Hi,” she starts, bending down towards their level, “My name is Fuyumi, I’m going to take care of you while your mama is getting better, okay?”

Yuto clings onto Hawks’ legs, “I don’t want to go.”

“You know, my dad is the number one hero, Endeavor. He’s kind of scary, but I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two about being a hero.” That caught the boys’ attention, their wings raising up.

“Your papa is the number one hero? My papa is the number two,” Yuto says and Fuyumi smiles at him. “That’s cool, huh? Your papa and my papa must be great friends.” Yuto couldn’t help but give her a cheeky smile, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, let’s say goodbye to your papa and let’s go to my house and we can eat, okay?” Gently taking their hands, Fuyumi brought them over to her side before the two boys wave goodbye to Hawks.

“Take care of mama, okay?” Yuto says as Hawks gives him a wink and a thumbs up. “I’ll tell her about how cool you two were being such big boys and not even crying.”

Hawks stepped closer towards Fuyumi, cupping his hand around his mouth, “Yuto’s wing has a sprain, so make sure he doesn’t use it and doesn’t sleep on it if he can help it. Kazuto’s left hip and leg is in bad shape and is pretty bruised, so please keep some ice on it.”

Pulling away, Fuyumi gives him a determined nod. “Thanks, see you in a few days.” and with that, she left the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto in hand.

Letting out a sigh, Hawks carried on over towards the waiting area while he waited for your operation to finish. It had been only an hour since he had gotten here, but it felt like forever while he waited for some sort of news.

After some time, he finally received news, great news.

His daughter Miyako had been born via c-section and had no underlying health issues. Unfortunately, because she was born premature, she would need to be monitored at the hospital until she was strong enough without the help of the equipment to finally go home.

That was fine by Hawks, of course, anything to help his baby girl.

Walking down the quiet halls of the hospital room, Hawks nervously made his way into the NICU, where his baby girl, Miyako, would be staying for some time.

“I’m here to see Miyako, I’m the dad,” he states before a nurse leads him over to her quiet room filled with the background noises of the equipment keeping her alive and healthy.

Gently walking over, Hawks peeked over where the little girl was being incubated, his heart swelling at the sight of his third child and first girl.

“Can I touch her?” Hawks asked the nurse behind him gently and nervously, seeing that she was tiny and barely over five pounds. “Of course, just wash your hands with soap.”

Doing just that, he made sure to take his time with cleaning his hands and forearms before drying them and making his way back to Miyako.

Sticking his arms into the small openings, Hawks brushed the back of his fingers across her small yet still chubby cheeks. A smile blossomed onto his lips when she stretched out from his touch and that’s when he finally noticed the little wings perched on her back.

“You have wings, baby girl,” Hawks commented as his fingers ran across her fuzzy grey wings. “That makes three of us, huh?”

He spent whatever time he could with her talking about himself, her brothers and her amazing mother before the nurse politely told him to leave so that Miyako could rest some more.

With all the terrible things that had happened, Miyako finally arriving was a good that broke the hardship.

Before he could visit your room, he was stopped in the halls by a detective who flashed him his badge, “we found the culprit behind this attack.” Hawks frowned at the detective, “Let’s go to a more private setting,” he replied as the two made their way into a private room.

“What did you find?” Hawks questioned, mirroring the detective who pulled out a chair to sit in. “An obsessed fan of yours,” he simply stated, tossing out a photo towards the winged man, “found this in the vehicle she was driving when she hit your wife and kids,” I assume you recognize the girl?”

Staring at the photo in his hand, Hawks let out a groan as he slumped back on his chair, “I should’ve never suggested bringing (Name) and the kids out into the public,” Hawks sighed.

“This would have never happened.”

“Keigo?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” he hums, fixing the vase full of your favorite flowers before walking over to you and sitting in the chair that sat beside your hospital bed.

“How are the boys doing?” you asked, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand gently when he slipped his hand into yours.

It had been a day since you woke up, but three days since you had been admitted to the hospital, Hawks being one of the only people you had seen, including the doctors and your bedside nurses.

“Well, they miss you that’s for sure,” he smiles and you offer one back. “Are they injured? I wasn’t able to check up on them before I—well, you know,” you try, but Hawks shifts your thoughts away when he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Yuto just has a sprained wing and Kazuto’s a little bruised, but they’re being cared at, at the number one’s house,” your eyes widened, “Endeavor’s?”

“Well, technically, Fuyumi is watching over them,” Hawks continues and you relax once again with a smile, “Fuyumi has always been good with kids. They must be having a good time with her.”

“And Miyako? How is she?”

“She’s cute and small and has these cute grey fuzzy wings on her back,” Hawks says with a small giggle, “her nurse says she’s doing just fine and should be able to go home in a few weeks. They still want her to cook a bit in the incubator.”

You smile at him before closing your eyes and resting back on your pillow with a relieved sigh, “I’m glad that they’re all okay. I miss them so much.”

Hawks brings a hand to your cheek and you open your eyes to look up at him, nuzzling into his warm and large palm, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just feel like this is all my fault,” he starts, bringing his hand back as his gaze drops down to his lap, “I should’ve never asked to bring you and the boys out into the public. It was selfish of me, you guys would’ve been safer and this would’ve never happened.”

“Keigo, it’s not your fault,” you say, placing a hand on his cheek, but your movement was restricted due to the IV needle in your arm. Hawks brings your hand down to your lap, opting to hold it in his larger ones instead.

“We didn’t know this would’ve happened, plus it was just a crazy fan! Instead of you being mad, I should be mad because someone thinks they love you more than how much I love you!” you exclaim and Hawks couldn’t help the small smile on his lips.

“Trust in yourself,” motioning him closer, you pressing a kiss onto his lips before a teasing smile formed on your lips “I love you more than you can ever imagine, you dumb bird.”

And Hawks tucked your words into his heart and decided to trust himself on his next bizarre idea—visiting that crazy fan of his in prison.

Sitting in the cool, metal chair, Hawks waited patiently in front of the barrier for the guards to bring out his so called, number one fan—the person who tried to take out his whole family.

It wasn’t until she came into view and noticed him that her eyes seemed to light up in shock and joy. Throwing herself on the chair, she grabbed the phone as fast as she could, bringing it up to her ear. Hawks doing the same.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you! You came! You really came to see me!” she cried, and Hawks did not give her a spec of emotion.

“I’m only here to tell you a few things,” he started and she nodded excitedly. “You are a fan of mine and I adore and cherish my fans,” Hawks states, her cheeks turning rosy at his words. “I would expect you to do something as simple as respect me as a person, as a pro hero, and to respect my family—my wife and my kids.”

“I only did what I did because I love you!” she shot back and Hawks glared her down with his sharp eyes, “and because of that, I’m disappointing that you even have the nerve to call yourself my fan. I’ve blacklisted you from attending any of my fan meets or events.”

Her eyes widened before she began to shake her head in disbelief, “No, no, no...You don’t mean that! Hawks no!”

“But I doubt you’d be leaving prison anytime soon for attempted murder on three cases,” He shoots back, her sobs and wails audible through the thick barrier between them.

“But I love you!” she cries desperately, “don’t do this!”

Hanging up the phone, Hawks turned around as the wails from the unfortunate girl filled the air behind him, leaving him feeling lighter than ever.

And it seemed as if things continued to get better from thereon.

You sat in your hospital bed excited yet nervously as the nurse carefully transported Miyako into your arms for the first time. As the infant shifted around in discomfort, you gently cooed at her, Miyako recognizing your voice.

“Miyako, it’s mama. I’m sorry it took us so long to finally meet,” you say with a large smile as she turned to face you—her poofy and fuzzy wings resting over your arms warmly.

Hawks watched in adoration of the sight of his two favorite girls finally together in each other’s arms. Miyako no longer needed any medical assistance and you, finally bandaged and needle free.

“Miyako’s been doing perfectly fine without any of the medical equipment and should be able to go home in the next few days,” your nurse says and your head shoots over towards Hawks’ excitedly.

“Honey, honey,” you chirp, “We can finally go home in a few days!”

Hawks couldn’t help the chuckle and smile that formed on his lips, especially from how excited you were. You had been in this hospital for nearly a month now and eager to see your boys and to finally be home.

Leaning over, Hawks pressed a warm kiss onto your lips before running his finger over Miyako’s plump cheeks.

“I can’t wait to have you home and in my arms again.”

And did that day finally come.

You and Hawks made your way around the hospital with Miyako sound asleep in a stroller, thanking all the doctors and nurses for their help.

And to your surprise, Kazuto, Yuto and Fuyumi were at the main doors waiting for the three of you.

“Mama!” they cried before taking off towards you. Yuto wrapped his small arms around your legs as Kazuto, who was just a bit taller, wrapped his arms around your waist gently, pressing his face into your side.

“My boys, I missed you both so much,” you cried, pressing kisses all over their faces, seeing them light up with joy after being separated for so long.

“Would you like to see your little sister?” You ask with a curious smile, watching them suddenly turn timid, but slowly, they made their way to the stroller and found a little baby girl sleeping comfortably.

“She’s so small,” Kazuto notes, glancing back up at you with his proud big brother smile. “Hi, Miyako. You’re so cute,” Yuto giggles, watching her stir.

You couldn’t help but lean into Hawks at the sight. Everything was right. Even when you finally had the energy to check your phone, you were surprised to see how all the support from friends, family, and fans alike.

“The agency called and said we have like a million gifts from the fans to pick up. A lot of them are ‘get well’ gifts for you and the boys and some are baby gifts for Miya,” Hawks states with a smile and you tilt your head at him teasingly.

“Miya? You already gave her a nickname?” you tease and he couldn’t help but look away with a blush which made you laugh. “Well, Miya is going to have the best papa bird and brother birds in the world.”

But the feeling of being at home, away from the world and just with your family topped everything else.

You were in Hawks’ arms, resting comfortably and watching as your two young boys watched Miyako in awe, commenting about how cute she was or how cute her small grey wings were every minute.

“Keigo, I’m so happy,” you state, leaning into his body more as you let out a content sigh. “Thank you for everything,” glancing up, his gold eyes were already on you before the two of you connected with a kiss.

“I should be saying that to you, dove. You’ve given me a whole family to love.”

And for all the bad that had happened, being able to rest in the love of your life’s arms with your newly expanded family, seemed to wash all of that away.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x you #keigo takami #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x you #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia scenarios

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

so ironwood was confirmed to be dead by Miles in a $42 cameo session, where the person who bought it had asked for "comforting words to soothe our anguished souls" bc she was an ironwood fan and wanted a pick-me-up after that devastating finale. miles' response was to essentially mock his fans (it really sounded like that, especially since he ended with "thank you jimmy, may you rest in pieces, crushed beneath the weight of the kingdom you tried so hard to hold up above your head."

apparently the VA, jason rose, confirmed it in DMs w the same fan who sent in the cameo ask. so like, quite apart from how rude and disrespectful it was of miles to make a mockery of james in a cameo where he'd been specifically asked for comforting words regarding the character, ngl but i think that if you have to confirm a MAJOR CHARACTER is dead outside of canon bc you failed to actually show it on screen.....you've failed as a writer. and also that kind of thing shouldn't be confirmed in an expensive and exclusive interview lmao like how hard would it have been to just talk about good aspects to james' character instead of calling him a dickbag and saying 'don't do a genocide, guys!!'

it reeks of unprofessionalism and also it just makes everything surrounding ironwood's character arc even worse since apparently 'his fate was sealed' from the moment he was introduced to the show.

Me, who received the first Moderna shot yesterday (🎉 🎉 🎉 ): Ugh I feel too crappy to answer asks today

Me, upon hearing this news: You know, I have suddenly found an untapped source of energy

Okay, all joking aside, I watched the vid and it’s definitely a lot. I don’t have any information about the request itself except for what Miles mentions in the recording, so I can’t speak to what the fan may have been looking for outside of that, but some highlights include:

“This is for the filth in my degenerate discord server” - Yeah, that’s how a lot of us (fans) talk about ourselves. It sounds like someone who really enjoys Ironwood and makes joking, self-deprecating comments about their love of a character. That’s familiar to me and speaks to the expectation that they hoped for something other than what they got. At least, if I’d sent in a request like that I wouldn’t be happy with the vid, but that’s obviously my own perspective and not this fan’s. I’d be very curious to know their own thoughts though...

“Sometimes a character we like doesn’t make it, does something we don’t agree with... or both!” - That is indeed how characters work! The real question is whether their death/actions make sense within the story, which is not addressed here. Many fans who enjoyed Ironwood don’t have a problem with him dying or turning into a villain — I’ve been honest about my acceptance of either/both, regardless of personal preference, provided it was written well — and that was always the issue. Not what happened to Ironwood, but how it happened.

“James Ironwood’s fate was sealed the moment his character was conceived many years ago.” - Personally, I don’t believe this. RT makes a lot of grand, sweeping statements about what’s been planned “for years” or “since the beginning” and too often we’re faced with writing that directly contradicts that. Though it’s unlikely we’ll ever know the truth, neither option paints the writing team in a good light. Either they’re straight up lying about what’s been planned (or twisting tossed out possibilities into assurances after the fact. For example, someone once suggested Ironwood might become a villain somehow at some point and now that’s presented as, ‘We’ve deliberately been working towards this specific ending for years’), or they’re being truthful and just... can’t write what they want to write. It doesn’t sound good when a writer says, ‘I’ve planned this the whole time’ and a good chunk of the fandom responds, ‘Then why couldn’t we see that planning this whole time?’

“When James was introduced we intentionally made him look like kind of a big dickbag, but then we realized that dickbag had a heart and was also half metal, and that was pretty cool!” - I don’t even know what to make of this. I’ve deconstructed his introduction before, but to summarize here, he’s presented as no more of a “dickbag” than Ozpin who may not be doing enough to protect the people, Winter who allowed herself to get taunted into a fight on campus, or Qrow who deliberately started that fight while drunk. Glynda is the only one who is arguably innocent here. The implication seems to be that obviously Ironwood became a villain because “we intentionally made him look like kind of a big dickbag” but then... does that mean Qrow will become a villain too someday??

The comments about them realizing he had a heart and was half metal just speak to that lack of planning. No, you obviously didn’t plan this downfall from the start if you “realized” something as basic as him caring for others partway through writing him and then allowed that care to drive his character for so long that the decent into villainy read as OOC, rather than inevitable. You obviously weren’t writing him with a backstory that influenced his character — of which his semblance is a major part — if you “realized” he was half-metal... whenever that happened. The fact that we never saw that backstory, or the semblance on screen, or returned to his half-metal nature outside of a ‘That’s coding for evilness’ theme again speaks to the fact that either a) none of this was actually planned or b) the execution is seriously lacking here.

“Let us all take a moment to thank General James Ironwood for his service to the Kingdom of Atlas, but... at the end of the day, don’t do a genocide [laughs]” - I’m having trouble articulating why I dislike this. I’m really too tired to be unpacking this right now (lol), but it has something to do with — as you say, anon — that mocking tone. Something else to do with the surge of purity culture in recent years. The tone feels like it’s tied up in an unsaid, ‘You like the character who tried to commit genocide?’ accusation when, you know, he’s a fictional character. People can like characters who do bad things. More significantly, he’s a fictional character Miles wrote. There’s something particularly distasteful about writers who feel like they’re laughing at fans for liking something when they created the thing with the intent that we would like it. And many did. So they gave attention, time, money, passion, etc. to the work and then when that part of the work finished, the creator appears to make light of that investment? Idk, I’m speaking about more than just this one line — the tone of the vid as a whole, really — but it feels much less like “You enjoy Ironwood! 😄” and more “You enjoy Ironwood... 😬” Like yeah, fans enjoyed the character that you wanted them to enjoy who you wrote to have a heart and then suddenly commit genocide instead. There’s definitely nothing complicated in all that.

“Thank you, Jimmy. May you rest in pieces crushed beneath the weight of the kingdom you tried so hard to hold above your head. Amen.” - All of the above x2 with the added issue that this was never shown on screen. Miles presents Ironwood’s arc like this seven year long plan when in fact they couldn’t even manage the basic move of telling the audience what happened to the character in his final hour. The fact that a fan had to pay to find out whether Ironwood is dead is not a gold star for the writing.

Every time the RWBY crew speaks about the story in supplementary material the canon itself gets worse. Hyping Clover/Qrow on social media pushes the canon closer to queerbaiting. We’re way closer to that with them hyping Blake/Yang. Long ago comments about Ozpin’s cane suddenly make Volume 8 a retcon. A Q&A about Ironwood’s semblance makes his arc a thousand times more confusing about how we’re supposed to read his character — to name just a few. Now this. When a friend first told me this info had dropped I thought, “Thank god. He’s not coming back then. I don’t want them writing Ironwood’s character anymore,” but really... can we believe anything the crew says? “Crushed beneath the weight of his kingdom” doesn’t mean Ironwood won’t show up in Volume 9 if it’s a spirit world type adventure. It doesn’t mean he won’t show up three years from now with even more metal in his body and a, “We said he was crushed, not that he was dead ;)” explanation. Hell, it doesn’t even mean he won’t show up with no explanation at all because, as established, what’s said in supplementary works and what happens on screen are two entirely separate things. Iffy as the vid may come across to those who did like Ironwood, I was initially happy that it at least gave us some closure... but now I’m not even sure about that.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #Anonymous

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posallys · 3 years ago

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First Lines

i wasn't tagged by anyone, but i wanted to do this anyway!

rules : list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all), see if there are any patterns. choose your favorite opening line. then tag 10 authors!!!

@chironshorseass @skaterannabeth @annabethy @annabethsinvibilitycap @halfbloodcarrie @thetitanwar @bbyannabeth and whoever else wants to!

(In order from oldest to newest)

1. Sempiternal - As she walked down the aisle towards him, Percy couldn’t help the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth and spread across his face (he’d be lying if he said there weren’t tears in his eyes, too).

2. i think of you (day and night) - If there’s one thing Poseidon had learned in his immortal (and briefly mortal) life, it was that mortals and gods don’t love the same.

3. two of my favorite things - It’s moments like this, when Percy pushes open the door of their apartment at 11:37 p.m after leaving the station late and pads into the kitchen to find her, clad in nothing more than a white button-up and black panties, blue-stained hands holding the old tattered notebook from his mom as she jumps around the kitchen to “We Didn’t Start The Fire” playing in the background, that make everything worth it.

4. i hope he buys you flowers - When Connor first came to camp, nobody was surprised to see that he and Annabeth hit it off. The two of them were practically inseparable from the moment they laid eyes on each other.

5. i've had to wait forever (but better late than never) - The gods are silent as they walk into the throne room, glancing warily at Percy, Grover, and Thalia standing over the broken body of Luke Castellan.

6. stuck in my head (stuck in my heart) - To put it simply, Percy’s day had been shit.

7. when you're all alone, i will reach for you - Seven.

8. a string that pulled me - At twenty years old, Sally Jackson was not unacquainted with strange events.

9. ocean blue eyes, lookin' in mine - It’s mid June.

10. august slipped away into a moment in time - When Sally wakes, it’s to the rhythmic in and out of Poseidon’s breath fanning across her shoulder.

11. don't be afraid (we'll make it out of this mess) - If Percy’s being honest, he doesn’t remember much about the last thirty minutes other than the fact that one second, Annabeth was behind him, shoulder to shoulder like they’ve done countless other times, and the next she was in his arms, blood dripping from her shoulder and covering his clothes while he called for Blackjack.

12. his voice is a familiar sound - She doesn’t know what time it is—or what day it is, if she’s being honest.

as we can see, I'm not particularly great at opening lines lol. i think my fav is probably number 10 though bc posally <3

bonus: my wips

1. breakable heaven - The pit in her stomach is far from unfamiliar now.

2. illicit affair - It had only been two days since Poseidon had told her that gods and monsters were real, but Sally felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

3. untitled- Sally sits there in the soft blue light of the early morning, her fingers tracing along Poseidon’s face.

4. untitled - Some people say that the hardest part of life is learning to let go, to realize when it’s time to take a step back and let the fates continue to weave their threads throughout the universe, to submissively play your part while the world keeps turning.

5. untitled - Percy doesn’t know much about his life at the moment, but what he does know is that he is undeniably screwed.

#i officially have more posally fics than percabeth fics #lol #we love to see the slight progression <3

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catzula · 4 years ago

Text

of red things like an earphone or a thread

Synopsis: you meet a little boy who lost his big brother's earphone, crying because he's sure his brother will get mad. You decide to look for it together, not expecting to find something- or rather someone else instead of the red earphone, although tied with a red string.

Pairing: Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Honorable mentions: soulmate au, female reader, cursing once or twice, children, 1.8k words, fluff, (K/N) stands for kid name lol

One last wave at your friend and you stepped out of the warm cafe to the cold, rainy winter afternoon.

The wet wind hit you square in the face as the glass door closed behind you, and you knew you were going to get wet. You already knew it was going to rain that morning when you left your house, but you were too lazy to take your shoes off and get your umbrella. I'm not afraid of getting a little wet." You had thought to yourself like an idiot. Though it was true. You weren't afraid of getting wet under the rain, not, however, a big fan of walking through a goddamn storm.

You sighed, knowing it was your fault, and you were glad you had at least thought of wearing your good old ski jacket. Closing the hood of your jacket over your head, you wore your earphones and started walking.

~~~

cold, cold, cold, cold

Only halfway through walking, the cold was all that was on your mind. You didn't even have money on you since you had forgotten your wallet back at the cafe (your friend had texted you they had it and would give it to you the next day), so you couldn't even ride a taxi for the rest of the long walk.

Hopping over puddles of water and mud, you were practically sprinting your way back home, not stopping for any obstacle and wanting to go home as soon as you could.

Float like a Cadillac, sting like a Beemer, you thought to yourself, laughing when the image of Lightning Mcqueen came to your mind. I won't stop until I reach home, not even if Jesus himself stood before me-

You stopped just as the thought crossed your mind, eyes focusing on the small body kneeling in front of a wall, face hidden behind short, chubby fingers, and body shaking with soft sobs.

Your brows furrowed in concern when you noticed the kid had nothing but a shirt on, the shirt already wet and sticking to his body. "H-hey," you turned to the kid, afraid of scaring him into thinking you were a murderer. You got a little closer to the boy, also kneeling when he seemed not to have heard you, still sobbing into his hands.

"Hello?" You touched his freezing arm as softly as you could, pulling it back whenthe boy flinched, abruptly springing to his feet. You watched him as he wrapped his arm around himself, lips near purple and lashes wet with tears and the pouring rain. He couldn't be more than seven, you found yourself thinking as you stared into his oddly familiar olive-green eyes. You felt your heart stopping as the wide eyes stared back at you, reminding you of someone you dearly longed for and missed. You could swear you had seen that harsh gaze and the way he tilted his chin up with pride before, so familiar, yet strange.

"Excuse me," he muttered between chattering teeth, wiping the tears off his face, even though newer ones filled their places nonstop. "Did you- did you see a red earphone coming here?"

"A red earphone?" You repeated, and he shook his head violently. "Yes! Did you see it?"

You bit your lip as you tried to remember if something like that had caught your eye, watching a new wave of sobs engrave him when you shook your head no apologetically.

"I'm sorry," you muttered. "Did you lost it? Is that why you're- well, here?" The little boy wiped his tears with the back of his hand, nodding, still looking back at you with those green eyes, now even brighter with tears.

"Okay, okay, look, first calm down a little, aren't you cold?" You asked as you started unzipping your jacket and shook it off your shoulders. You smiled at him when he didn't answer your obvious question, averting his gaze with a proud, stern look.

He took the jacket without contest, watching his hands as you dressed it over him. Wind howling in your ears, you were left only with a sweatshirt, a wave of shiver running throughyou when the wind howled even louder, the rain already wetting your heair and making it heavier. A curt nod was the boy's thanks, faintly smiling when you gave him a reassuring one.

"Let's take you home, okay? You'll catch a cold if you stay out in this cold when you're wet." Your words had seemed to take a wrong affect on him, since he quickly pulled himself away from you with a new round of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"No, no- I can't!"

"It's okay, you can buy a new one and-"

"No, please- my brother will be so angry if he learns I lost it, I can't go home!" The little boy started to unzip your jacket off him with panic clouding his mind when he thought just how mad his brother was going to be. He could already vision the furious look when his brother figured it, swearing he would never lend him anything again.

"Hey- hey, stop," you caught his cold hands between yours before he could shake off the jacket. "Okay, we won't go home, but let's look for it together, all right?" You offered, trying to bargain with him and stay with him until you could convince him to go home.

"Okay." He agreed, eyeing you with soft suspicion but still walking beside you as you started to walk the way back.

After what felt like a whole day but was only an hour later, you had noticed just how many red things one could find if they looked around.

Even if you averted your eyes to your hands, there it was, a bright red thread hanging from your finger. But this was the day you had come to hate the many- many red things that littered the surface since each time you saw a glimpse, and it was never the red earphone (K/N) was looking for and made him cry even more.

You didn't have it in you to tell him even if you did find the earphone, no way it would work since it was raining nonstop for hours now, either. So you swallowed your sense of cold and went on looking with the boy, telling him funny stories, listening more from him.

You had no idea why your heart missed a beat each time he spoke of his older brother -how old are you, miss? Woah, really? Then my brother is only e year older than you!- how you found your tummy hurting with how hard you were laughing as he kept telling you a funny thing that happened to his brother and his best friend.

"He seems like a- well, nice guy." You muttered as you threw the red bottle cap you spotted on the ground to the trashcan. "He is!" The boy answered with sparkles in his green eyes, "my brother is the best!"

"That's nice." You smiled, chuckling when he went on. "He is the strongest, the coolest, smartest guy ever!"

"He does sound really cool. But also seems like he has some anger issues." You muttered as a joke, not expecting him to frown immediately. "He will be furious with me." He bit his lip, your eyes widening when you noticed the tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Hey, no- I'm sure he'll understand!" You tried to reassure him. "Your brother sounds way cooler to get angry about a red earphone." You smiled, patting his head, laughing when he sniffed. "Really? You think so?"

You thought you were reassuring him. A white lie was all it was, but then, why did it feel so real? Why did it feel like the truth, despite not even knowing who the said guy was?

You hummed. "I'm pretty sure."

"Okay then, I think we should go home." You smiled, nodding and letting him lead you as he pulled your thread-free hand.

"We're here." He sighed, meddling with his fingers as he stared at his house door. "Can yku, maybe stay with me as I tell him?"

You had opened your mouth to answer before a loud call of the little boy's name made you both jump in your places. You turned around to see where the stomping sound came from, eyes meeting the tall figure running his way to you.

"Th- that's my brother." The boy gulped, and you did the same as you watched the also wet boy coming towards you.

You quickly noticed his eyes weren't on you but the little boy standing next to you, and you bit back the urge to hide the boy behind you from his seemingly furious brother.

"Where were you?!" He shouted, his big hands running over the small face and body to check if he was injured or not, pulling the boy into a tight hug as the man took deep breathes of relief. "I was so worried- so worried, you hear me? I've been looking for you for hours!" The tall man spoke into the hug. "What were you thinking, disappearing like that?"

"I- I didn't mean to worry you." (K/N) whispered to his brother's hair, hugging him even tighter, burying his face to hide his tears. "I was- with this lady... she was helping me."

You felt your heart skipping a beat when he mentioned you, making his brother break the hug and look at you instead. "Helping you? Helping you with wha-" You watched his eyes widened as he finally got the chance to look at you, and you knew he was the owner of the green eyes your heart seemed to long for.

"Y-you-" he stammered, chest rising and falling as if he had just run a marathon, but you weren't any better. You could feel your face, your whole body heating up, the thought of hypothermia you just had in your mind a few minutes ago now turning into cursing the global warming.

You watched him as his green eyes wandered down to your hand that stood awkwardly next to you, following the red thread hanging from your pinky to his.

Never in your life had you seen the end of the string, you smiled at the thought. It would always blend in with the world, disappearing into the void, and you had tried to follow it to the end countless times, too eager to find your soulmate, to see where it tied your fate to, failing each time.

But now, you felt your hands shaking with the overwhelming sense of being able to follow it to the end, the end where it was only a few meters away from you, where it tied to the large hand that reached at yours without even thinking.

It felt warm and safe as you touched his hand, both of you smiling uncontrollably.

"You look cold." He spoke the first time to you, but it felt like you had been together forever, like you knew him as well as you did yourself, not feeling the slightest bit of awkwardness.

"I am cold." You giggled, and you could see how it only then occurred to him that your jacket was hanging on his little brother's shoulders, and you stood there wet and shaking with only but a sweatshirt. The green eyes you would find yourself admiring from then on widened with concern, quickly shrugging his jacket off and wrapping you with it.

"Here, wear this." He muttered as he zipped it as far as he could, making you both giggle.

Maybe it was an odd day to meet your soulmate, you thought, probably not the best, too, since both of you were wet from head to toe, hair sticking to your face, shivering from the cold, and probably a mess (and sick the next day). But however it was, you wouldn't change it for the world.

~~~

You got a red earphone next year in secret santa.

Hajime got a red earphone next year in secret santa, too.

A/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! Here's a lil ❤ for u. Funny thing, this red earphone thing is real lol, it happened to me a few days ago!! But it didn't end with me finding iwa, no no, we couldn't find neither iwa nor the boys red earphones and I dropped him back to his home.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi drabble #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi fluff #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x me

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2: Bump in the Road

(Yo man all these Mark pre debut pics got me feeling some type of way) (Why did nobody at my high school look like that idgi???)

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part of the Crazy Little Thing Called Love Series

Genre: Fluff, angst and awkward, experimental and extremely adorable smut

Word Count: 13.7K (Daaaaamn I really thought it was longer) (Still long as hell though)

Summary: Falling in love with Mark had to be one of the easiest things you have ever done in your entire life. However, the trials that came with loving him were all the more challenging and you didn’t know how much of it you could possibly take.

A/N: Okay so this one is all over the place (I say that about all my imagines recently) but seriously this one is kind of complicated but please bare with me. I also am not particularly a fan of how I ended this chapter but oh well. Happy reading! (The smut scene in here is actually more humorous and meant to be clumsy and inexperienced lol but honestly it sucks hahahahaha)

“Y/n! This is the mile run, not the mile walk! You have exactly twelve minutes to run four laps around the field. This is only your second lap and you’ve wasted seven minutes just dragging your feet through the dirt. Pick up the pace or else I’m failing you for not putting in effort!”

You released a frustrated grunt at your p.e. teacher’s words, but did as you were told. Back in elementary school, p.e. was one of your favorite subjects. You loved taking a break from your studies and getting to play all kinds of different sports; dodgeball, sham battle, volleyball, basketball and even doing all kinds of relay races—but middle school ruined the class for you entirely when you realized that you were no longer allowed to play around and have fun.

No. Middle school was serious business now. You were being graded on whether you changed out in to your uniform, how many jumping jacks you could do in one minute, how many times you could kick a soccer ball in to one of the field goals and today, you had to run one mile which you and the rest of your classmates have been preparing for every single day in the last two weeks. It wasn’t like you weren’t physically active enough to run all four laps; you joined cross country only two months after transferring over to Middle school from Elementary.

Running long distances were something you were used to. What you weren’t used to, was the fact that your boyfriend had p.e. during the same period you did. It’s as if fate wanted you to fail miserably. Over the last two years, Mark only grew more and more attractive and your mind always drifted back to when you first saw him going through physical changes when you were in the fourth grade. What you thought back then to be his beginning stages of puberty or so you’ve been taught in health was nothing compared to the change he was currently going through as of right now.

His features became even more prominent; his jaw was more defined, his eyebrows were sharper, his chubby cheeks were slimming down immensely and his lips have grown fuller. His voice that was once squeaky and high pitch was now deeper and more “manlier” in his words. He was even excited to tell you that he was slowly but surely growing facial hair.

It was hard for you to prevent yourself from laughing when he pulled you to the side one day at recess and showed you the two strands of hair on his chin—but it was also very cute. From the time he entered middle school, Mark would always complain about being scrawny and not masculine enough for someone in middle school. Although you were still too young to really understand what was expected to happen to both girls and boys while puberty transformed their bodies entirely, you had a feeling Mark was taking this whole “growing up” and “maturing” too seriously.

You were only two months away from moving on to the seventh grade which also meant that Mark was going to become a high school freshman. Nothing much has changed since you graduated from Elementary school and settled in to Middle school other than being able to see and spend more time with your boyfriend. From what the older boy would describe over and over to be some of the best years in school he has experienced so far—well, educationally.

All those years in elementary that he spent with you; learning more about you, getting to see that contagious smile of yours and being the main reason behind it, falling in love—or what he claimed his parents called “puppy love” with you, those had to be some of the best years of his life. Unlike you, Mark enjoyed school. He loved learning about all kinds of things. Right now, his favorite subject was social studies specifically because he and the rest of his classmates got to watch all these documentaries about some of the most important events to go down in history.

Since he had every intention on being with you as much as he possibly could, Mark brought up the suggestion that you’d joining an after school activity together. You had yet to tell anybody other than your older sister and a couple of your closest friends about your relationship in fear of your parents finding out and forcing you to break up with him. Your family was well aware of your friendship though and they genuinely really liked Mark.

For someone who was right about to turn fourteen-years-old, it was evident that he had a excellent head on his shoulders. You would always think back to the first time he introduced himself to you and how he told you his mom said he was a good boy in order to get you to trust him. He always had your best interest at heart—he did whatever it was for you in order to help you in any way possible, or just to make you happy.

Your happiness was Mark’s sole priority. Almost every single day, he would walk you back home before walking back to school for practice. On the days he had nothing scheduled for after school, he’d be over at your house playing video games with your older brothers or watching a movie with you out in the living room. It always made you smile seeing how well he got along with your family and although you had yet to really get to know his, Mark told you he was confident that they would love you just as much as he did.

In his three years of middle school, he had built quite the reputation of being the campus’ all around student. Although he could be shy and introverted towards students he wasn’t all too familiar with, he was very kind and thoughtful to anyone who had entered his path. It was also known throughout the school that Mark had one of the highest g.p.a.s in his grade. There were a few occasions that his teachers would have him tutor other students for extra credit and being the polite person his mother made sure she raised him to be, he always said yes—even if he didn’t particularly want to.

He was also very involved in sports and extracurricular activities; soccer, football, baseball, water polo, cross-country, student council—you name it. Mark just really enjoyed making new friends and taking on new challenges. Since you were the only one out of your siblings that would return back home once school was over, your parents recommended that you’d look for some kind of activity that you would find interest in. It was actually your boyfriend’s idea to join cross country with him; it was pretty much the only sport that he knew you wouldn’t get hurt in and that helped keep his mind at ease.

The last thing he wanted was something bad to happen to his favorite girl under his supervision. On the first day of practice, you didn’t think it was all that bad. Your coach had the team run five laps around the tennis court before calling it a day. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same thing for the rest of that week when you found yourself running up and down an extremely steep hill ten times. By the end of it, you felt as if you were about to throw up your lungs—it was terrible and what was even worse was the mocking laughter that came from a few of your teammates since you were the last one to finish.

Mark tried to stifle back a laugh, but it wasn’t a laugh to insult you in any way. The word proud didn’t even describe half of what Mark felt watching you put in so much effort to finish your rounds, no matter how visibly exhausted you were. He found himself giggling because he thought you looked so adorable with your flustered, pink cheeks, hair sticking out all over the place and the fact that you flopped on to the grass without even worrying about getting dirty. He waited for your coach to inform you all what he had planned for the rest of the day and allowed you some well deserved rest before pulling you up. As soon as he noticed that everyone was out of sight, he all but gently yanked you against his chest and placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, ignore them. You’ve tried your best y/n. You’re the only six grader here—everyone else, they’ve been running for years. You only joined a week ago. I’ve seen a lot of them having to stop in the middle of a race because they’d get side pains from eating right before a competition. Hell, some of them even walk when no ones watching. So don’t beat yourself up about it too much okay? You have me. I’m here. I’m always going to be here—nothing to worry about baby. Let’s go. If we have enough time, I’ll buy you some frozen yogurt before I take you home.”

You beamed up at him as your heart fluttered hearing his words. Sure, the idea of him treating you to your favorite dessert excited you—especially after all you had to suffer through, but hearing that you had nothing to worry about because Mark had your back was such an amazing feeling. Even after all these years, not once had he ever shown you otherwise. He was practically glued at your hip and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You placed a small peck on the corner of his mouth before intertwining your hands together and you grinned to yourself when you saw the blush rise upon his cheeks.

“Can I get extra toppings?” He playfully squeezed your hand before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sloppy kiss on the back of it.

“Of course you can babe. God—you’re so cute you know that?”

Although there were some days you felt as if you were still too young to be in love or to know what love actually was, you knew in your gut that what you felt for Mark was extremely intense. Hell, if what was going on between the two of you wasn’t love, you didn’t think you’d actually get to experience it because you had no intention on being with anybody else. You were overjoyed with what you had with Mark.

From what you’ve seen in movies and television shows, what you’d hear your sister go in to detail about over the phone with one of her friends and just witnessing your parents interacting with each other, you had an idea of what being in love was. You saw the way Mark would look at you; as if time stopped whenever the two of you were together and all he wanted to do was look at you in admiration—in awe of your beauty. It was in his actions; he made it a point to continue his overprotective habit he started in Elementary school—walking you home to make sure you got back safe and pushing you on the inside of the sidewalk to keep you away from the road. It was in the way he would leave his friends to go be with you.

Every single time you’d have a rough day, you would find a candy bar or a bag of skittles in your backpack as his attempt to cheer you up. He might have said it repeatedly on a daily basis—even if he didn’t understand just how powerful that four letter word was, but you’ve witnessed the love he harbored for you with his many sacrifices and sweet gestures. Nobody would do even half of what Mark does for you if they didn’t love you and honestly, Mark’s love and just Mark in general was all you could ever need.

Even if he were to be the only friend you’d have in your entire school career, he was the only friend that mattered. If the butterflies that would swarm in your tummy whenever you’d see him were any consolation, that breathtakingly beautiful boy was the rightful owner to your heart. You did whatever you could in order to even pretend that you were going to put more effort in to your movements, but you were too busy watching Mark swing his bat at the baseball.

Out of all the clothes he owned, why did he have to wear a muscle tank? You didn’t think biceps came with puberty but you weren’t complaining. Since all of your focus was on your boyfriend, you failed to notice the rock that was dead center on the track until you face planted right on the dirt. You heard a few people calling out for you; you assumed one of them had to be your teacher while the others were your classmates—but the voice that was quick to grab your attention belonged to none other than the person who was to blame for your accidental fall.

“Shit—y/n are you okay? You ate the ground pretty badly. Are you hurt? Does anything hurt?”

He brought his hand up to your face and squeezed both your cheeks. Immediately, your boyfriend began to scan your face for any cuts or bruises and his brows furrowed once his eyes landed on the huge gash in your arm. You were always so clumsy and sometimes you failed to pay attention to your surroundings—however, this was the first time you ended up practically face planting on to the floor. Before you could say or do anything, he was picking you up from right of the ground and briskly walked over to your teacher.

She was obviously worried for numerous reasons, but you had a feeling she saw that you were distracted. If so, you could only hope she didn’t know exactly why—but it didn’t matter. What now had your full attention was the throbbing pain in your right ankle. You were no doctor, but the pain was excruciating and it didn’t move when you tried to twist it a little bit.

“Would it be okay for me to take y/n to the health room?”

She had no choice but to say yes—not that she planned on saying otherwise. Mark had you pressed tightly against his chest as he carried you bridal style; your teacher wasn’t born yesterday. Anyone could see that Mark wasn’t only volunteering to help you out because he felt bad. Also, the way he was holding you; so tightly and protectively as if he were to lose you if he set you down led everyone to believe that the you both were well acquainted with one another. As the two of you began making your way to the office, Mark pressed a sweet kiss on your nose all the while giving you a concerned look.

“My clumsy girl—how did you even fall? I saw the custodians smoothing out the track yesterday. Were you not paying attention? Did your shoelaces get untied without you noticing—“

“Stupid muscle tank.”

You were currently hiding your face against his chest, so your sentence came out as a mumbled whisper. As much as you hated to admit that your boyfriend was the reason you were probably minutes away from heading to the hospital, it was the truth. You were surprised that only now you made a fool out of yourself and got in to an accident. It was currently three months in to the last semester and you found yourself ogling over Mark with every chance you got during p.e.

There was one time your class and his class had to share the basketball court and instead of teaming up with his classmates and playing games with them, he decided to teach you how to make a jump shot for that entire class period. You secretly thought it was his excuse to have his hands grip your waist, but you never said anything or questioned him about it—and you were quite a fan of his touch, so you weren’t really bothered knowing that he needed to always have his hands on you.

“I didn’t quite hear that, what did you say?”

You shook your head, hoping he would just drop the entire thing. Even if you were to lie and give him another excuse, Mark knew you like the back of his hand. You’d feel pathetic if he knew you lost your balance because your focus was directed on him and his ever-changing body. He could tell right off the bat when you weren’t being completely honest with him.

“I think my ankle is broken.”

He looked down at you and frowned. Mark has been playing sports long enough to know what a sprained ankle looked like. To his dismay, the area was bruised and swollen. Yeah—you definitely twisted your ankle. Good going y/n. You didn’t realize just how popular Mark was throughout the school until you heard almost all the staff currently in the office greet him. You were in a trance; completely mesmerized with how friendly and respectful the older boy was. It was one of the things you admired about him the most.

He had so much confidence in his personality and he had every right to—he was the actual sun in human form, radiating positive energy everywhere he went. The nurse smiled up at the two of you as soon as you both entered the room, but her smile was quickly replaced with a look of worry and concern when she saw the look of discomfort on your face.

“Hello Mark dear, what brings you two here today?” He gently placed you down on one of the beds and grazed your cheek with his thumb before turning back towards the elderly woman.

“Y/n tripped and fell in p.e. and she thinks she might have sprained her ankle. I also noticed a couple of cuts and bruises on her arms and her left knee.”

“Oh no—that’s not good, let me take a look.” She pulled a rolling chair over to where you were lying down and reached for your leg. “Do you mind if I take off your shoe?” You shook your head in disagreement and allowed her to examine your swollen foot. You looked up at Mark and gave him a sad smile when you saw that he was already looking at you.

If this was under different circumstances, your heart would’ve fluttered with the way he was looking at you, but the pain was unbearable. She had you prop your foot on a few pillows while she began inspecting just how much damaged your fall did to your leg. You couldn’t help but hiss at one particular lift of your leg—not once in your life would you have ever thought you’d twist your ankle—it was even harder to believe that your boyfriend was the reason.

Sure, you knew you were at fault; if you just did as you were told and completed your run, then there was a chance you wouldn’t be having to ice your ankle as you watched the nurse call your parents. However, you weren’t really all that upset and it was probably because deep down, you knew you’d do it again and again. All you ever wanted to do was take as much time as you could gazing at your boyfriend in adoration while mentally tracing out his charming features.

Whether or not he was there, you were sure that you’d get distracted by him one way or the other. Your mind would always drift off to him—sometimes even when you weren’t aware of it. Honestly, the hollow and empty feeling you would get when Mark wasn’t around and the indescribably warm and ardent feeling that built up in your chest as he held you in his arms was enough proof that he was your purpose; the reason why you’d wake up excited every single morning knowing that you’d get to see him later on that day.

Your mood for the entire day depended on whether or not you got to see or hear from him. If this was how you felt for the older boy as a pre-teen; still having yet to gain more knowledge about life and it’s many ups and downs, you were excited to see just how much better things would get for you and your boyfriend as the two of you got older. Mark motioned for you to sit up so that he could take his place behind you; he had you lay your head on top of his lap in the hopes of making you feel the least bit at ease. He began running his fingers gently through your hair; twirling some stands in between his fingers and smiled lovingly at you.

“Hey—I’m sure you don’t want to hear this right now, but can I be the first one to sign your cast? Ow—what? I’m being serious babe—with the amount of times you’ve hit me just now I find it hard to believe you’re in any pain at all. Fine, fine, fine. No jokes about your temporary disability. Although, I’m sure hopscotch would be all the more challenging now that you can only use one leg—you know what? I think it’s time for me to head back to class. It’s obvious that someone isn’t all that appreciative for carrying her all the way here—“

To his surprise, you made sure the nurse was still busy on the phone with your mom before you pulled at the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips all but innocently against his. However, right as he was about to deepen the kiss, you pulled your mouth away before things could escalate any further.

“I’m very thankful for all that you’ve done for me and continue to do for me. Not just today—for every day I’ve known you for. Thank you. I’m very grateful for you. You mean so much to me Mark, I don’t think I say it enough.”

You could tell your words visibly moved the older boy by the way he couldn’t stop the huge smile from occupying his entire face. While Mark was a boy of both words and actions, you didn’t think you were all that smart to actually form sentences to describe your feelings for him. Little did you know, on the rare occasions that you did express to Mark how happy you were being able to call him your boyfriend—each and every single word tug on his heartstrings.

God, he was so in love with you.

Just like how it always was when the two of you were together, you and Mark were too caught up in your own little worlds that you failed to hear what was going to happen to you. The nurse walked back over to you and your boyfriend from behind her desk and gave Mark a knowing look. You wouldn’t have been surprised if she caught you and Mark being affectionate—and honestly you were beginning to care less about your teachers and faculty members finding out that you and Mark were in a relationship.

If they weren’t too favorable towards the idea of middle school relationships, it wasn’t like they could really do anything about it anyway. Who were they—or anyone else for that matter able to tell you that your feelings were invalid because you were “still too young”? Love was valid for anyone and everyone of any age.

“Y/n, your mom is on her way to take you to the emergency room. I don’t want to scare you, but I think you might have to get surgery on your ankle or else that part of your foot will be permanently paralyzed. As for you Mr.Loverboy, I think your job here is done. Thank you for helping y/n out, but it’s time to head back to class.”

You quietly sighed to yourself at the thought of not having Mark with you while you went to the hospital. The thought of surgery didn’t worry you as much as it should have; needles, knives, blades and anything sharp never failed to make your skin crawl. However, you were too upset knowing that Mark wasn’t able to be there with you. You knew he’d be able to take away any feelings of anguish and despair just with his presence alone. He was quick to notice your sullen expression and brought his hand up to tenderly cup your cheek.

Other than your older brothers and hanging out with your boyfriend’s friends, Mark was the only boy you really got to learn about. You didn’t think teenage boys were capable of such compassion and tenderness, but Mark wasn’t a normal teenage boy. He put the feelings and well-being of others before himself. Sure, he loved playing video games, reading comic books and going to the park to practice his free throws, but none of that could compare to the sheer happiness you would bring him.

“You’re going to be just fine okay? It’ll be over before you know it. I’ll try my best to make it there to you, but if I can’t—please remind your mom to call me when it’s over? I hate the thought of you suffering. Forget froyo this time baby, I’ll buy you a whole gallon of ice cream. I’ll see you later, I love you.”

He felt extremely shy having to kiss you in front of any adult; even more so now that the nurse was aware of your relationship, but he wasn’t too sure when he was going to be able to see you next. Mark would lose all his sanity when it came to you. You just had that effect on him; but it was something he was very fond over.

He loved being in love with you.

“I—um—I’m sorry Mrs.Kim, do you think you could turn around?” His cheeks were red from having to ask such a question and he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. The older lady giggled softly at his request and nodded in agreement before giving you and Mark your privacy. While grazing his thumb over your forehead, he lowered himself so that his lips were barely touching yours and finally did both of you a favor by connecting your lips together. His lips were soft and his kisses were gentle; he kept his hands to himself because he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave if he were to touch you.

Not wanting to get either of you in any trouble, he stole a few more fleeting kisses from the corner of your mouth before wishing the kind woman a nice day. “That boy must really like you. I’ve never seen someone his age so starry-eyed over a girl before. I must admit, the two of you are very cute together. I’m just assuming by your age that your parents have no idea about your relationship so—I guess it’ll be our little secret.”

You gave her a tired smile before murmuring a quiet “thank you.” As kind as she was, you were grateful when she left the room to talk with one of the other staff members. It was nice having people around, but you do enjoy the moments you had to yourself, by yourself. The only person you didn’t think you could ever get tired of being around was Mark, but that was a given.

Even if on some days he could joke around during the times he was supposed to be serious, no matter how much he could get on your nerves, you could never stay mad at him for too long. Almost fifteen minutes later, your mom was frantically storming through the office asking around for you; but once one of the counselors led her to the health room and she saw that you were taking a nap, she immediately relaxed and the nurse began to inform her of what happened.

Although it was expected, you needed to get surgery to help with the swelling and the tension. This also meant that you had to stay out of school for the rest of the school year. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy getting to stay home and having your siblings wait on you hand and foot. The only thing that really upset you was not getting to experience all the festivities that came at the end of the year. Mark in more or less words was an absolute angel.

He came to visit you after school was finished almost every single day. There were days that he even asked his mom to call him out sick so that he could tend to you as much as he possibly could. Both the Tuan family and your family were understanding when it came to the older boy going over to your house in order to spend time with you. Your sister let out snarky remarks and a couple of eyebrow raises here and there since she had a feeling what went on between you and Mark behind closed doors, but it was all in good fun.

You weren’t going to lie; it was extremely frustrating not being able to move around as much, Mark did whatever he could to help uplift your spirits and take your mind off of your leg. Once you and your mom arrived home the day after your surgery, your brothers were quick to want to write on your cast as soon as they realized you had one, but you were adamant on having Mark be the first one in doing so—even if you playfully threw punches at him when he brought up the idea.

“I can’t believe you actually let me write on here. I hope you feel better soon princess.-Mark”

He told you he wanted to write something more romantic but he didn’t want your parents getting suspicious as to what your real relationship with Mark was. From what he’s told both your mom and your dad and what they witnessed, he was like an older brother to you—and because he got the chance to watch you grow from this tiny, adorable kindergartener who was a Picasso in the making to the upcoming seventh grader who only grew prettier and sassier as she got older, they understood why he was so protective and so fond over you.

Over the course of a month and a half, you continued to do your school work at home; you kept your leg elevated on a couple of pillows and hardly ever left your bed unless you really had to. You were upset at the idea of not being able to witness Mark’s graduation, but you were even more worried knowing that he was moving on to high school. It didn’t really occur to you that your boyfriend was going to be a high school freshman—nor did you think that things were going to change in your relationship.

Nothing happened when Mark transferred over from Elementary school to Middle school and honestly, the distance helped your relationship thrive. If he was willing to walk twenty minutes in order to visit you two years ago when you were just about to move on to the fifth grade, and how he was eager to ditch both school and practice to give you any assistance you needing during your healing process, then you were sure nothing was going to change—or so you could hope. Your parents surprised you with a pair of crutches and informed you that your doctor said it was okay to get up and start moving around if you were physically and mentally ready to do so.

As much as your family loved helping you out, you understood that they all had their own things to worry about and having to tend to you practically every fifteen minutes was a lot to handle. You decided to keep it a surprise from Mark that you were going to be there for his graduation; your mom already told him that she didn’t feel like it was a good idea seeing as how you weren’t really ready to be mobile and the look of disappointment on his face really made both your stomach and heart ache. You never wanted to see Mark anything but happy. All he ever did was put others before himself; and the happiness of the ones he loved—you especially was his main focus.

You remember hearing a conversation between your sister and her boyfriend and he told her she deserved the entire world. For the entirety of that day, you tried to think about what exactly that meant. Instead of asking your sister in fear of her getting mad at you for eavesdropping, you asked your mom out of curiosity. It means that person really adores you and wants nothing but the best for you. That’s exactly how you felt about your boyfriend. Mark Tuan deserved the entire world on a silver platter and you were going to take the time to learn what you had to do in order to give it to him.

You did particularly enjoy knowing that he wanted you there—you would be upset if your favorite person just so happened to get injured and wasn’t able to see you on one of the most important days in your educational career. But it proved to you how important you were in Mark’s life. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of how much Mark adored and thought the world of you. The older boy practically had it tattooed on his forehead. You just loved being reminded of the love you had for one another.

On the day of Mark’s graduation, you and your family picked up some gifts for him and planned on sitting a few rows back from the stage so he didn’t see you just yet. Hearing your principal describe Mark as such a hardworking, dedicated student who was so caring and quick to lend a hand to whoever needed it made you feel proud of him. Today was supposed to be a happy day for him, yet his smile didn’t completely reach his eyes and his shoulders were slumped. Your sister playfully nudged you knowing that you were the reason for his sullen demeanor.

Once the graduation ceremony was over, everyone made their way towards the football field in order to congratulate the graduates. It was hard to describe the feeling that built up in your chest when Mark’s eyes landed on you. Although his entire family came out to congratulate him, it was obvious he wasn’t all that happy and honestly, he looked as if he couldn’t wait till the entire thing was over. However, as soon as you came in to view, his jaw dropped and he wasted no time in running toward you and picked you up as if you were as light as a feather.

Neither of you even seemed to care about your crutches falling to the ground; he was just feeling so many different emotions in that moment to even bother about anything or anyone. Mark was extremely grateful that his grandparents flew all the way from Taiwan to come and see their grandson shift over to high school—graduation of any sorts was a huge milestone in their family—but he was most excited for your appearance. He didn’t even give himself time to think before smashing his lips against yours out of pure happiness.

“You came—I can’t believe it, you don’t know how much this means to me—God, you’re so amazing. I love you so much—“ If you didn’t hear the cough that you assumed came from your mom, you would’ve continued to kiss him; but it was in that moment that you realized you and Mark weren’t alone and he just gave away your relationship.

“Oh—I—um—I—I’m in love with your daughter. I hope you’re not mad.”

You didn’t even want to look at either of your parents; you were sure they either had looks of anger or disappointment on their faces and the last thing you ever wanted to do was go against their wishes. However—your relationship with Mark was the only thing you had no problem breaking your parent’s trust for. He whispered a mumbled apology in your ear and was right about to say something else, but your mom was quick to respond to his sudden outburst of love for you and her next few words shocked you.

“I know. I’ve actually known for a while now. You’re not particularly as discreet as the two of you probably think you are. I wanted y/n to be honest with me instead of forcing it out of her. You’re a good kid Mark. Although I still feel as if you both are too young to be dating, I see how much you care for my daughter and as a mother, that’s all I could ever want for her. You make y/n extremely happy. Thank you for taking care of her. With that being said, there will be some ground rules for your relationship—but we’ll talk about it another time. Congratulations again sweetheart.”

Your family stuck around for a couple more minutes—allowing you enough time to celebrate Mark’s big accomplishment. When your parents did decide it was time to go, you said your goodbyes to Mark and his family before leaving a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Congratulations again baby.”

You got an earful in the car while the six of you made your way back home, but you were just so content that you no longer had to hide your relationship with Mark from your parents any longer. It took one more month for your ankle to completely heal and for the rest of that summer, you and Mark found yourselves going anywhere and pretty much everywhere your hearts desired—well, anywhere your parents allowed you to go. One of their rules was that you had to be under adult supervision, but it was expected.

Your sister and oldest brother got a kick out of having to take you to the arcade or to the movies. The love you held for Mark continued to grow the more time you spent together. You learned something new about him every single day. His favorite color was blue—specifically navy. He loves ketchup but hates tomatoes and his favorite tv show was Full House. Sure, any time spent with your boyfriend never failed to send you over the moon, even if the two of you were doing nothing at all.

You’d rather do nothing with him than to do something so exciting with anyone else. But it was in the moments where he’d tell you his dreams and worries for the future that you savored the most. Knowing how introverted Mark could be, it must’ve took him a lot of courage to tell you about his fears and doubts and to trust you with his deepest secrets. Your seventh and eighth grade years went by in the blink of an eye. If you were being honest, you didn’t particularly care of any of it.

There wasn’t much excitement that came with middle school and you couldn’t wait to move on to the next chapter of your education. Mark raved about how exciting high school was. He claimed it was the most fun he’s had in his eleven years of being in school. There was more freedom for High school students; they could eat lunch wherever they wanted, they no longer had to wear uniforms, there were more sports that Mark wanted to get involved in and there were a lot more places on campus that he could study at other than the library.

To your dismay, your fears of growing distant with Mark came true as soon as he started high school. Being the adventurous and athletic guy he has always been, it was only natural for him to join practically ever single sport his school had to offer. High school sports were a lot more different than middle school. The athletes were expected to give all their time and effort in to the sport that they played; this meant more of Mark’s time spent on the field and in the gym and less time with you.

You only really got to see him on the weekends and you tried your best to show that it didn’t bother you—but you did worry that he would one day forget about you completely. There was a point where you wondered if you and Mark should take a break; you were at that age where you understood how to manage someone’s priorities and what needed to come first. It took a while to accept it, but you were no longer Mark’s main priority and it did hurt you—but there was no way you’d allow yourself to interfere with that part of Mark’s life.

What really made you sad was that Mark didn’t think anything was wrong—but why would he? He was too busy experiencing the dream life; he became captain of the baseball team only a month after he joined. He was the first freshman to ever be captain and you were elated that he was having a good experience so far. However, you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head telling you that Mark was better off without you. It was something that began to plague you more and more each day.

The last thing you ever wanted to do was be a burden to your boyfriend. On the days you did get to hang out with him, all your worries seemed to disappear. Mark was extremely apologetic with not being able to see you as often and he did remind you that he hated not getting to spend time with you. That’s the reason why you allowed yourself to stay with him. With time, you knew things would get better.

It wasn’t like he was purposely ignoring you—when he did have free time, he always called you and sent you text messages to see how you were doing. The effort he put in, no matter how tired he probably was never failed to tug on your heartstrings. You loved Mark and you knew he loved you. That’s all you really needed. After what felt like forever, you finally completed middle school and made your way in to High school. Mark was more than happy to welcome you with open arms and to show you around the campus.

On your first day of school, he barely even gave you two seconds to take in your surroundings before introducing you to his group of friends. They all seemed to be very friendly and outgoing; they were quick to offer you help if ever you needed it. Your boyfriend was extremely excited now that he was going to see you more; and he began planning out so many things with you. He was quite the gentleman; seeing as how he got his license back in his sophomore year, he would pick you up from school every morning and if he had the time, he would drop you back home.

He would walk you to class and even waited outside so that he could go with you to lunch or to your next class. His friends would tease him about it, but he would even feed you out of habit. You were able to attend some of his practices and even a couple of his games and it didn’t take you long to understand why Mark enjoyed being in High school so much. There was just a lot to get involved in and be excited for. At least once a month, there were pep rallies held and it was always so much fun.

Your High school was also very supportive and involved when it came to sports. The seats would always fill up at a lot of Mark’s tournaments and you knew seeing all those people in the crowd gave him the motivation to do his best. His friend Jackson joked around about you wearing his jersey so that girls would know he was in a relationship and back off. You didn’t know that your boyfriend had girls chasing after him, but you weren’t surprised.

He was a sight to behold; plus, he was so gentle and sweet. He was soft spoken and just so happened to be the MVP for both the basketball and football teams. Every time you attended one of his games, your cheeks would get sore from how many times you would smile hearing all these people cheer him on. He was quite the popular guy, but he always was. Mark stood out from the crowd whereas you believed you blended in, but not in a good way.

It wasn’t until Jackson made that comment did you find yourself observing the way that other girls would look at him or interact with him. A lot of these girls were very pretty—prettier than you thought you were and you soon grew very insecure about being the lucky person who Mark was in love with. You felt as if you needed to change your look to impress him—you didn’t think skinny jeans, band tees and converse shoes were going to cut it anymore.

Most of these girls wore dresses, curled their hair and put on makeup. It was only a matter of time that Mark would come to the realization that he wanted someone more mature who actually took care of themselves. You were too focused on having to worry about other girls that you failed to notice Mark never batted an eye at any girl that would approach him. His heart has been yours since the day he approached you over ten years ago.

You were the most beautiful girl in his eyes and you’ve captivated him in ways that he never thought he was capable of experiencing. Mark believed he was one of the lucky ones. It’s rare to hear about couples who started dating when they were really young that were still together. Mark knew even at seven years old that you were going to be someone very special in his life.

Actually, he was growing irritated every time a girl would come up to him because he made it very clear with how he would always hold your hand or wrap his arm around your shoulder that he was in a relationship. At first, he did like the attention he was receiving for his athletic talents—but when it came to romantic feelings, you were the only person he wanted to receive attention from. He did feel bad letting girls down, but he was more afraid of you growing insecure if you were to see just how many girls had a crush on him.

There was nothing you had to be insecure about—nobody held a candle to you. There’s a saying, “nobody’s perfect”—Mark believed it was complete and utter bullshit. You were nothing less than perfect in his eyes. As soon as he received a team jacket with his last name and number on the back, he gave it to you and asked you to wear it so that everybody in school knew that he was yours and that you were his. You never gave him any reason to be jealous—you only made three friends and even then, they weren’t ones that you’d spend time with other than when you had class with them.

You were always with Mark and his friends and you’ve grown very close to them in a matter of days. Your freshman year was a great start to your high school experience and as excited as you were to become a sophomore, you weren’t excited knowing that this was Mark’s last year in High school. He never told you his exact plans once he were to graduate, but you did hear his mom talking on the phone with his grandmother one day when you were at his house and you heard her mention that he was looking at a University in Massachusetts that specialized in engineering. You asked him about it a few times; out of sheer curiosity but he always seemed to redirect the question as if he didn’t want to answer it.

A part of you felt as if you deserved to know—it was just as much your future as it was his, but you didn’t want him to get annoyed with your continuous pestering. In your first semester, health was your first class and to your delight, BamBam and Yugyeom had it during the same period. It was nice seeing familiar faces and Mark’s friends always make you feel so safe. However, you were soon regretting your excitement when your teacher began covering sex. You and Mark had yet to get intimate and honestly, sex wasn’t something you were all that interested in just yet.

In fact, from what you’ve learned in class so far, you were terrified. BamBam and Yugyeom always made dirty comments about you and Mark—they even had the audacity to ask if you guys did it yet. You ignored them because it wasn’t any of their business, but you couldn’t help to wonder if they asked Mark and what he said about it. Did he want to have sex? He had to at least thought about it once or twice; you learned in health that boys desire sex earlier than girls do.

There were a few instances where your make out sessions would get a little too heated and Mark would excuse himself to go use the bathroom. It didn’t make sense to you why he always seemed to have to pee whenever the two of you would kiss, but after taking health, you realized that he wasn’t in the bathroom for the reason you thought he was. The more you learned about sex, the more curiosity ate at your conscience. Was it as amazing as people claimed it out to be? Did it hurt as much as you felt it would? What happens after the first time a girl has sex? It didn’t take too long for your curiosity to get the best of you and you wanted to know your boyfriend’s outlook on it.

One night, you were sleeping over the Tuan’s residence in order to keep your boyfriend company. His family went to Taiwan for his cousin’s wedding but because he had a tournament, he wasn’t able to go. At first, your parents were hesitant to let you stay over because they didn’t like the thought of you and Mark being alone—but they trusted you and they trusted your boyfriend. Sometimes more than they trusted you.

The two of you were cuddling up on his bed, watching a movie; his thumb was gently grazing your thigh and you didn’t think much of it. Skin ship was something normal in your relationship and this wasn’t the first time he had his hand on your leg. However, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never experienced before. You felt as though you wanted him to bring his fingers higher up to where there was now a warm and tingling sensation. Neither of you expected it, but a sex scene came on out of no where and it felt awkward watching the two characters naked and pressed up against one another.

You could tell it was also affecting Mark with the way he sat up and pulled his hand away from you. You decided that you would use this time to ask him the question that’s been on your mind the day your class was learning how to put a condom on a wooden penis.

“Hey Mark?”

He paused the movie before turning towards you—giving you his full attention. You quickly picked up on how red his ears were and it was something you’ve discovered would happen when he was either embarrassed or flustered. He hummed in curiosity before bringing his hand up to your cheek.

“Do you—have you ever—do you want to have sex?”

The fit of coughs that fell from his throat made you feel like a child; stupid BamBam and Yugyeom for telling you that sex was a natural way of life and that Mark told them that the two of you already had sex on multiple occasions. You’ve been with Mark long enough to know he wouldn’t do such a thing. Whatever went on with you and Mark stayed between the two of you. He was just as defensive when it came to his privacy. He looked at you in shock before taking his hand off of your cheek and bringing it up in to his hair.

“Wait—what? Sex? Are you asking me—I mean—right now? Wait—sex? You want to have sex—please correct me if I’m wrong babe—are you insinuating that you want to have sex or—where is this coming from—“

It was always a sight to see whenever Mark would get shy or flustered if you were the cause behind it. He was eighteen years old now and it made you laugh that even as an adult, he still had his childlike qualities to him. You could only hope he’d continue to be a child at heart because you’ve grown to learn that sometimes life isn’t all that kind to us and we tend to lose track of ourselves if we become too serious. Mark looked as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown; so you crawled over to him and did the unthinkable—you sat on his lap and wrapped your legs about his back while you brought your hands around his neck.

You were well aware that you were stepping in to new territory. This was the closest you’ve ever been to your boyfriend and it was a closeness you were quickly growing to enjoy.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean for it to sound like I’m asking you straight out to fuck right now—“

“Woah, language missy—“

You playfully rolled your eyes before thumping his forehead for interrupting your confession. “I was just curious if you wanted to have sex—theoretically. We’re learning about sexual intercourse in class right now and I just—I don’t know. I’m sure you have your needs and desires or carnal urges as my teacher refers it to—you’ll be going off to college soon so I was just wondering if it ever crossed your mind that you wanted to have sex—and if you’d want to do it with me.”

Your last words caused him to look at you as if you grew another head. He couldn’t process the idea that you felt he would want to have sex with anyone else other than you. Once he finally decided to take a look at you and saw you biting your lip in anticipation of his response, he all but gently gripped at your chin and pulled you in to a searing kiss. He playfully licked a few stripes against your bottom lip and nibbled on the top teasingly before pulling away.

“Look at me.”

This all felt like deja vu. You were reminded of the day back in elementary when you confessed your feelings for Mark and refused to look up at him. You could feel your heart racing because of the proximity and because you knew he was probably going to be upset with the fact that you were questioning his future plans.

“Babe, you’re crazy to think there’s ever going to be anyone else in my life for me to do anything with other than you. I’ve loved you and I’ve been in love with you for over ten years now. You’re stuck with me y/n. I plan on loving you for the rest of my life. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. You silly girl—why would you even think I’d want to do something so important with anyone else? You’re my person baby—my soulmate. Yes, I’ve been thinking about sex a lot these days—especially because I can never seem to take my hands or eyes off of you. You only get more and more beautiful as you get older and it’s getting harder for me to resist wanting to finally relish in our love together in that way. I just wanted to wait for when you were ready. I’m sure the idea of losing your virginity is scarier as a girl than it is for a guy—but just know that when that time comes, I’m going to take such good care of you okay? Wait—BamBam and Yugyeom didn’t set you up to this did they?”

It was your turn to look at him in confusion and he giggled softly at your expression. You wouldn’t have been surprised if they did talk to him about what they’ve been bugging you about for the last three weeks. They were all guys; you were sure they were all excited talking about their sexual lives amongst each other. It was something you assumed all guys did.

“Those assholes weren’t bothering you too much about were they? I’ll kick their asses if they ever made you feel uncomfortable. They told me they had class with you and then they began asking me all kinds of questions about our sex life and if we did it yet. I guess for guys, it’s a competition to see who does it the youngest or the most—it’s really stupid if you ask me. Sex is supposed to be romantic—making love to someone is more than just penetration and reaching an orgasm. It’s two people connecting on a spiritual and intimate level. Sex is just a body count to the guys; to me it’s something so special. To be honest with you, it doesn’t matter how old we are when we both agree to have sex—just know that I’ll wait however long you need me to baby.”

With the way he was looking at you so lovingly; holding so much tenderness in his eyes, you were just seconds away from saying fuck it and giving him what he’s been wanting for some time now. Like Mark said—sex was more meaningful than what a lot of people painted it out to be. You didn’t really look at it like that, but hearing him speak so passionately about it sent off a burning sensation in your chest. A part of you was very nervous, but it was expected. You were still learning about your lower region—hell, you were still getting used to menstruating. You didn’t think you were desiring sex as of right now but that was because you didn’t understand it completely. You didn’t know what took over your body in that moment, but you found yourself leaving sloppy kisses along Mark’s jaw while running both your hands through his soft, curly locks. He let out a soft sigh and his hands made their way down to your lower waist.

“Baby, what are you—“

“It’s time we get BamBam and Yugyeom off our backs. Let’s give them something to talk about shall we? I—I want to be one with you Mark. I don’t want you thinking I’m doing this for your sake; I’ve actually have grown curious to see what sex is actually like and I’ve always wanted to take things further in a sense with you. I trust you Mark—with my entire being. I’m safest with you. I’m yours if you’ll have me baby.” The noise that came from the back of his throat wasn’t one you’ve heard before. It was a mixture of a growl and what you assumed was a moan—it was extremely sexy.

“Fuck—I—you’re otherworldly you know that? I love you so much—so so much. I got you y/n. I’m gonna take really good care of you okay? Just tell me if it hurts or if you want to stop okay? I’m so fucking excited.”

The laugh that fell from your lips hearing how eager he was to finally make love to you was natural. He was so adorable—what did you do to deserve him? It was a question you always seemed to ask yourself even after a decade of knowing him for. You didn’t doubt that he was going to be gentle with you during the process of taking away your innocence. It was obvious that he was nervous—he had no idea what to do himself. This was going to be a learning experience for the both of you.

As he reconnected his lips with yours and tightened his grip on your waist, you could feel the adrenaline running through your bones. You were about to give yourself—your body, mind and soul to the breathtakingly beautiful boy in front of you. Your relationship was going to change but you knew it was in a good way. Goosebumps began to rise on your skin with every graze against your arm and every moan he hummed against your lips. There was a fire building up inside of you that you were dying to put out and you had yet to learn what it was exactly. Less than five minutes in to your steamy make out session, you felt something hard press up against your thigh and the feeling made you giggle. “Mmm—Mark—“

He pulled away gently in fear that he was doing something wrong. Your sudden mumbling made him worry; was he taking things too fast? “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just—every single time we’ve made out in the past—you’d leave to use the bathroom. You never actually used the bathroom while you were in there—did you?” He shook his head in disagreement while a cheeky smirk rose on his face.

“I’m gonna tell you this right now; I get hard just by the thought of you alone baby. So anytime you touch me, hug me or kiss me—I get kind of excited, if you know what I mean.” The two of you laughed at how blunt he could be but the playful banter was quick to end as soon as he felt you palming him through his sweats.

“Shit y/n—“

You continued your movements while bringing your face in the crook of his neck. Everything about your boyfriend was so flawless; so pretty. His skin was so soft and milky—his neck was long and you wanted nothing more than to leave love bites along his nape, letting everyone know his bed was spoken for. You grazed your teeth right above his collar bone and absentmindedly began grinding your self against his hardened member. You must’ve been doing something right with how he was helping guide you along his girth and by the way he was growing vocal the longer you continued.

He brought his hands up in to your shirt and you shivered at how cold his fingertips felt against your skin. When he started to play with your bra, you had an idea of what he wanted to do and so you unclasped it in one swift movement—taking it off and flinging it somewhere in the room. You then brought his hands up from your lower back to your breasts and squeezed them all but lightly. It was your turn to let out a moan—the feelings of his hands gripping on your perky mounds only made the coil in your stomach tighten. You never really thought much about your boobs; they were a part of women bodies—you weren’t someone who necessarily obsessed over them.

There were girls in your p.e. class that would compare their bra sizes and some of them would grow excited if they noticed their boobs got bigger. You didn’t think you had the biggest breasts ever, but then again you were still going through puberty. What you had thought may not have been big in your eyes as a completely different story with your boyfriend.

He never had the guts to admit it to you, but there were times where he had to force his stare away from your chest. It was as if your breasts grew overnight and he wasn’t complaining at all. Every time you wore a tight shirt to school, he had to bite back his tongue. He loved every single thing about you; but your breasts were now one of his favorite body parts of yours. He began to show love to your mounds—massaging and kneading them while pinching and twisting your nipples. Right as you were going to make a comment to get him to continue his movements, he playfully jiggled both your breasts and earned himself a punch on the shoulder.

“Ow—what was that for? I’ve been dreaming about the day I got to play with these pretty titties of yours. They’re so big and bouncy—you know, I’ve heard from some of my friends that it’s normal for women to be rough during sex but I don’t think this is what they meant. Having you hit me isn’t the way I’d be getting bruises tonight. Fine, fine—I’ll stop. You’re no fun. I hope you know I plan on fondling and playing with these every time I get the chance so start getting use to it. Would it be okay if—I um—can I take off your shirt now?”

Did he really go from confidently playing with your breasts to shyly asking if he could take your shirt off? He was so whipped for you. As soon as you pulled your shirt off and tossed it to the side, his mouth widened in shock. It was one thing to cup and fondle your sensitive buds, but it was another thing to actually look at them. How were you so perfect? There was absolutely no flaw on you.

“Close your mouth Tuan, you’ll catch flies.” You knew he was about to retaliate so you decided to tug at his shirt with every intention of him discarding it.

“Someone’s eager.” He wiggled his brows contently.

“Shut up.” One by one, every piece of clothing was now scattered throughout his room. What you felt as you gazed at him with nothing but his underwear on was hard to fathom in to words—sure, you’ve seen him shirtless whenever the two of you would go to the pool, the beach or after practice but this was the first actual time you’d be seeing him naked and bare.

“You’re so hot.”

His cheeks grew pink at your compliment—anytime you were to tell him how handsome, intelligent, talented and hardworking he was never failed to fluster the older boy and you would purposely say or do whatever you could to see him so bashful.

“Well—then, that must make you fucking sexy. You’re so breathtakingly beautiful my love. God, your body is a wonderland. I can’t wait to be inside of you—ah, hold on. I’ll be right back.”

A smirk rose on your face watching him practically run out the door as your eyes fell to his cute little butt. It wasn’t really hitting you that you were just moments away from losing your virginity; you were now more excited and ready to give yourself completely to your boyfriend. What should have been some of the most nerve-wracking minutes of your life waiting for him to return and being alone with your thoughts were eerily calm. Less than a minute later, he came in with a tiny piece of foil in his hands and from your lessons in health, you were sure it was a condom. He held it up as if it was a trophy of some sort and the concept caused you to giggle.

“I had to dig in my parent’s drawer for this. It’s fucking gross thinking that they’re still doing it at their age—“

“Only you could ruin a sexual moment with such an unnecessary comment. Just hurry up, put the damn thing on and fuck me already. I’m going insane here.”

“Wow, never in all my years of knowing and loving you would I have ever thought you had such a naughty mouth on you. I love it. Your wish is my command baby.”

He made his way on to the bed, crawling towards where you were waiting for him up against the headboard. You kept your eyes on his—he held so much emotion in them. Lust, excitement, happiness, worry, nervousness—losing your virginity was a huge deal and he wanted to make sure you had an amazing experience. Right as he took his underwear off and you saw his hardened erection, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

It wasn’t because of his size—no, definitely not. You didn’t have anything or anyone to compare him to, but he was extremely big in your opinion. His cock was long and pretty girthy; you didn’t know how it was supposed to fit inside of you but you were so ready to finally find out.

“Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy hearing that contagious laughter of yours—especially when I’m the reason behind it. But I don’t know how I feel hearing you laugh right after I pull out my dick.”

“It’s not—I’m not—it’s just—penises are really ugly.”

“Babe seriously?”

“What? I’m being honest. Yours is an exception though. I guess it’s attractive? M—Mark stop! Please—I’m—sorry—babe!!”

He was quick to pin you to the bed with one hand while tickling your sides with the other. You didn’t think sex—or what you were told was foreplay could be all that humorous, but it was your fault you were so ticklish. Thankfully, Mark seem to have read your mind and placed a sloppy kiss the corner of your mouth. Hearing him rip apart the conform wrapper brought your attention to his pelvis and you could physically feet your throat choke up.

He kept eye contact with you as he rolled the thin rubber on to his cock. You had a feeling he was more nervous than you were; his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and his movements were shaky. Once it was finally on, he lined himself up against what he believed was your entrance. His lips were rough against yours—his tongue was needy; the need to kiss you with so much passion and fervor was all he could think about.

“Ready baby?” You gave him a gentle smile—hoping you weren’t underestimating him and what he was capable of.

“Remember, if it hurts or if you want to stop, just let me know.” Since you were well aware that he was right about to make his way inside of your soaking walls, you took in a deep breath to calm yourself down. However, the penetration you were expecting never came.

“Wait, what the hell? Where’s the hole?” This earned him a look of confusion and you had to cry out in laughter—honestly you were growing to believe that tonight wasn’t going to end the way you anticipated it would.

“Y/n, I’m gonna need you to help guide me, I have no idea where your vagina is.”

It took your boyfriend almost five minutes to finally line himself at your core—two of those minutes were filled with laughter and snarky comments; more so from you about how unprepared the two of you really were but it made tonight all the more memorable. He kissed you with all the passion and energy he had in his body and it wasn’t until you felt him finally make his way in to your pussy did you understand why he did that.

The stretch was exceedingly uncomfortable; more uncomfortable than it was painful, but still. It felt as though someone was pushing their hand down on your clit with so much pressure and it wasn’t a feeling you particularly cared for. Your boyfriend—just like he always seemed to in every single situation picked up on your uneasiness. He brought one hand up to cup your cheek as the other was placed in to your hair.

“You okay?”

“Mhm, just a little uncomfortable. How are you feeling?”

“Incredible. You’re so fucking tight and you’re practically soaking.”

“Is that a good thing?” He nodded adamantly and smiled at your innocence.

“Well, it feels fucking insane. You feel so amazing. I—uh—please tell me when I can move. You feel so good baby—but like I said, I’m not doing anything until you give me permission. Tonight is all about you.”

After you non-verbally gave him the okay to quicken his movements, he started to pump himself in and out of you. You weren’t going to lie; the first couple of thrusts felt like hell and you were worried that there was a chance he could have been doing something wrong since it was his first time also. But soon, the pain turned to pleasure—sweet, fervent pleasure. You both began to moan together in unison at how wonderful it felt.

There were so many kisses shared between the two of you—some rough and needy while others were sensual and feather-light. His thrusts only fastened and grew harder the longer you continued your love making session. Countless love confessions, sweet nothings and dirty fantasies were thrown back and forth to each other.

All-in-all, it had to be one of the best nights in your entire life. Albeit a little clumsy and hesitant at some points, Mark fulfilled his promise of allowing things to escalate at your pace and ultimately taking good care of you. You could tell he was holding back a lot of the time not wanting to harm you if he acted on his desires. Once you both reached your highs, Mark left you for a little while and came back with a wash cloth and a water bottle. You were too exhausted after spending almost two hours exploring the depths of one another.

Mark loved on your body like a man starved; he left multiple hickeys across of your chest and on your lower stomach. After cleaning you up, putting one of his shirts on you and giving you a pair of his underwear while he also got prepared for bed, he took his place right next to you. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist while he placed his cheek against yours.

“So, is sex everything you could ever hope it out to be?” He beamed down at you while furiously nodding his head.

“It was so much better than I was already expecting it to be. You were perfect baby. That had to be one of the best experiences I’ve had ever. I’m gonna have to make love to you at least ten times a week from now on. God—I can’t even describe in to words how much I love feeling you wrapped around me and how beautiful you look right as you were about to come. How was it for you though? I didn’t hurt you too much did I?”

You shook your head and left a quick kiss right above his eyebrow. Less than twenty minutes ago, he was pounding his dick inside of you as if he had vengeance against you. Now he was treating you as though you were such a delicate flower. Mark Tuan—always the charmer.

“No, not at all. That was honestly so mind blowing and I know it’s because you were trying your best to make sure I was having a good time. You always put others before yourself and tonight was no exception. I’m also going to second that notion—I love how you stretch me out. It felt so good. I love loving you and being loved by you. Thank you baby.”

From that night on, you and Mark had a sexual awakening. Whenever you had the chance, the two of you would relish in your love no matter where it was. There were countless times where you’d find yourself sucking him off in a janitor’s closet or being pressed up against the lockers in the boys locker room; Mark took advantage as team captain having access to the keys and took you up against every surface the locker room had to offer.

Unfortunately the closer Mark got to graduating, the more time he took signing up for scholarships, applying to many different collages, taking up as much extra credit as he could and completing his senior project. He finally admitted to you that he had no plans on staying in your town for college. The only thing holding him back was the thought of leaving you.

All he really wanted was to stay with you and wait until you finished graduating so you could both attend the same college together, but you refused to let him give up on his dreams and being able to experience better opportunities that your small town didn’t have to offer. You knew there were so many colleges out there with better sports teams and even better choices of majors that he could choose from.

Mark always wanted to be either an architect or an engineer and you were very supportive of each and every one of his endeavors. However, you hated overthinking what would happen to your relationship if he did get accepted to a university in a different state. You knew the love you had for one another was undefeatable; indestructible.

Deep down in your heart you believed your relationship with Mark wouldn’t falter even with 5,000 miles in between the two of you. But the doubt that weighed heavy on your heart taunted you—what if he were to get frustrated with the distance? What if he didn’t want to be alone and found someone new at his university? What if he decided that your love didn’t mean as much to him anymore? You tried your best to stop the negative thoughts from taking over, but he was never around anymore to prove otherwise?

As dramatic as it sounds, if you were to lose Mark, you’d probably die of a broken heart. He loved you more than life itself; there was no doubt about it—but sometimes love just wasn’t enough. It was the last semester and you secretly wanted the days to go by slower to prolong Mark’s stay. You couldn’t help but feel selfish wanting him to change his mind about leaving you—but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you were the one to prevent him from having a fun college experience.

You were currently in science class; everything your teacher was explaining about mixing carbon dioxide with hydrogen peroxide went through one ear and out the other. Thankfully, your lab station was in the far back, so she wasn’t able to catch you texting your boyfriend about your plans to hangout after school. You didn’t even realize she stopped speaking until you heard a different voice—one much deeper and obviously belonging to someone younger. This caught your attention; it wasn’t one of your classmates—you’ve been with them for five months now, you would have recognized them immediately.

When you looked up to see who it was, your eyebrows raised for reasons you didn’t quite understand. He had to be a new student; you don’t remember seeing him once on campus and although your school was enormous, he had a distinct look to him that stood out. His face was sharp and so were his eyes. There were two tiny freckles right below his left eyebrow, his hair was dark and just below his ears. His skin was pale and he had extremely broad shoulders.

You had to admit, he was very good-looking—but you’ve become desensitized to anyone other than your boyfriend. Something about Mark—well, many things about Mark drove you to the brink of insanity and you didn’t think there was anyone who could set your bones on fire like he did.

“Everyone, this is Im Jaebeom. He is a foreign exchange student from South Korea. He plans on staying with us for the next two years, so be nice to him, introduce yourselves to him and try to make him feel welcome. Jaebeom dear, you can take a seat at the empty chair next to y/n in the back.”

When his eyes landed on you, he sent a flirty smile your way and gave you a wink. He placed his bag on top of the table and took his seat next to you. Your eyes were quick to land on his hand that was now right in front of your face.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you y/n. I look forward to having you in class.”

Yeah, you were screwed.

#got7 imagines #got7 #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

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prairiedust · 4 years ago

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The Further Folklore of Supernatural

Here’s a little more folklore meta in light of how season 15 has been playing out if anyone is game. I genuinely thought that Moriah would be the end of the folklore stuff and tossed out “Folk the Author” as an “epilogue,” so this is probably less of an addendum than it is a waymarker as I try to continue to parse these themes into the last seven episodes.

Welp. *waves hands at everything* THIS is not how anyone expected 2020 to go. Things got a little bit big and I stopped thinking about Spn in light of needing that energy elsewhere. But I also don’t want this crapfest to ruin how I fan my favorite show, so here I go again. I will attempt a TL;DR, too!

If you’ve read my old “folklore” analysis here about how I think fairy tales and all their baggage fit into Supernatural season 14, you know that I believe Castiel has stepped into a Sleeping Beauty type story, and that coincidentally a few themes and symbolism from Snow White kept popping up around Dean. (I hold Sam to be a Protagonist in the modern “literary fiction” sense of the word, but emotionally, thematically, and narratively he’s always been a little inaccessible to me. I finally understood him when the death-of-the-author plot surfaced, and I’ll get to Sam eventually here. And Jack, there’s a little Jack in here, too.)

If you would rather have the TL;DR than read several thousands of words about how folklore and myth *might* be abstractly connected to an American genre show, all I can say is that I tried. The textual support is all in the folklore posts. This is as succinct a summary as I could fabricate. At least I’m not gonna talk about Sam and bricolage and freeplay! This is an almost completely theory-free post! If you don’t want to read or don’t need a refresher and just want to know how this has been working in 15, you can scroll down to “END OF TL;DR”.

So, to catch up, I’m not talking about the folklore and mythology that this show has always relied on for plot and MOTWs. I wasn’t drilling down into urban legends like Hook Man or world folk monsters like shtrigas or pishtacos. By “folklore” I mean the study of storytelling tropes and tale types that have been with us for ages. One of the many subtexts of the end of the series. I’ve been tracking this because I think it’s fun to see how fairy tale imagery and mythology might layer preconscious suggestions into the text of the show. I personally think it was loud enough to be seen easily, but more than likely viewers felt unsettled, felt cheered, or felt like they knew what was coming? I’m curious to know. Anyway.

When we found out that Kelly Kline was going to name her baby “Jack” waaaaay back in season 12, things started chiming. Jack and the Beanstalk. Jack the Giant Killer. Jack Tales. Jack is a powerful Western character, sort of a cross between a noble hero and a trickster, featuring in stories that often blur lines and boundaries. He is both the poor man’s youngest son and the equal to King Arthur’s heir. Jack is both everyman and extraordinary. Jack is so cool, I wish I had more time to parse that but his qualities are not subtle in the text/subtext, anyway.

But back to my half-crack reading of seasons 14 and 15.

Once upon a time in Supernatural, there were two fairy tales being told. Both fairy tales are found all over the world and in many forms, but they all can be grouped together because they all contain shared elements of the same basic plot or shared themes, and these two in particular are sister stories. So when I mention “Sleeping Beauty,” I’m talking about lots of different versions of the folk tale, and the same for “Snow White,” which can be found in one form or another in storytelling traditions all over the place. It is both helpful and irritating that these are both Disney movies, too.

Jack makes an allusion to Sleeping Beauty in 14x03 The Scar while talking to Castiel-- it’s the kind of subtextual flash that in and of itself means little and proves nothing, but then beginning with The Scar we got three stories in a row that dealt with “sleepers” of some sort-- Lora in 14x03 doomed to die because of a witch’s spell, Stuart in 14x04 Mint Condition in a coma because of a ghost attack, and Sasha’s father in 14x05 Nightmare Logic under the spell of a clever djinn. It’s powerful subtext, like a soft light that bathes these episodes in the color of fairy tale and makes Jack’s Dramatic Swoon at the end of Optimism all the more Dramatic-- subtext amplifying the plot. Jack goes to Heaven, but is eventually cornered by the Shadow, who wants him in the Empty where he will sleep forever-- the Shadow being an entity who has claimed the husks of dead angels since their inception and thus implies a “curse” laid on Jack from the moment he came into being-- but Castiel, who is ever a thief in oh so many ways, makes a bargain with the Shadow and essentially takes over the consequences of Jack’s Sleeping Beauty story (hence my rarely used but hilarious tag “Castiel Thief of Endings.”)

Now that we know from 14x20 Moriah that the Shadow and Billie the Reaper are, if not allies, at least working together when Jack is awakened in the Empty, does that mean that Castiel’s deal is still on the table, or has that fate been thwarted? *pounds table* Was Jack’s death and Chuck’s rise as a “greater threat” in 14x20 enough to shift Castiel’s ending? It’s the kind of subtextual question that lends tension to the narrative and it’s what I am here for.

Well, speaking of thwarted expectations, Dean’s arc was being shadowed by a Snow White tale type. We all know Snow White but why don’t I sum it up anyway, since Disney messed up the folktale ending lol. Snow White is cast out of her home by her jealous stepmother (and echoes of the stepmother’s magic mirror show up in 15x02 Gods and Monsters) who sends her huntsman to kill her; the dude can’t do it and turns the girl loose in the forest instead. Snow White joins a band of outsiders who live in the forest-- in the Disney movie and the Grimms’ tale they are dwarfs, in some versions she happens upon a band of robbers-- and they love her very much and we presume she’s safe for the rest of her life; Michael mysteriously turns Dean loose to join Sam’s gathering of hunters, however we know, like Stepmom, Michael is still out there. The stepmother finds out that Snow White is actually alive and contrives to kill her herself. Eventually succeeding, Snow White appears to die and is usually laid to rest in a crystal casket/glass coffin. Her stepmother’s machinations have _stolen her agency_ (further paralleling Dean’s possession by AU!Michael.) A Handsome Prince stumbles upon Snow White, is besmitten with her, and he asks her protectors if he can have her, as one does. Leaving the Disney adaptation aside, Snow White awakens when whatever item that has caused her death-like state is dislodged (piece of apple in her throat) or removed (magic corset) or withdrawn (poisoned hairpin) by her protectors. Snow White is a story about the community of the dwarves of band of robbers or adopted family caring deeply for her, and when Dean starts making his own crystal casket, the ma’lak box, in which he will ride out eternity in tormented symbiosis with Apocalypse Michael, he has to rely on his family to help him see the plan through. However, here’s where Jack-- who is as much a chaos engine as his surrogate father Castiel if not more so-- steps in and ruins the ending. Jack smites Michael. Dean Winchester is saved. Again. To put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, Jack later destroys the ma’lek box entirely.

That was quite the surprise ending… for one of the stories.

Was the end of season 14 the end of the Sleeping Beauty theme, also?

END OF TL;DR

I quit writing about “folklore” for a while, but that doesn’t mean it stopped being a theme. It just stopped being fun to write about as the story got more and more dark, and when it transmuted into two parallel themes of “folklore” or storytelling by the people versus Death of the Author--or storytelling by a lauded authority-- and there was so much angst about the boundaries of Chuck’s powers, I just wanted to sit back and enjoy that. I did distill my thoughts about Sam’s new arc in the DotA plot, which I thought would subsume the folktale themes but hey, we still have folktales around, too. I mean, we have Sam and we have Dean, and we have two “literary” subtexts, or maybe rather two subjects about the nature of story, something that I thought was a little bit of a surprise.

Storytelling was a Feature of 15x07 Last Call, both in the sense that Lee and Dean swap new stories and tell old tales of their adventures together as they catch up, but also in the sense that we got additional “text”-- hints of a backstory where John and Dean hunted with Lee in that swampy long-ago “Stanford era,” and again we get storytelling when _Lee recounts how he ended up keeping a marid in his basement_. There is also an allusion to the Thousand and One Arabian Nights in that episode that I yelled about in a meta that I never put on the interwebs, but the “marid” is in a specific tale in many editions of that collection, and thus calls in not only a different folktale tradition but the concept of a framed/nested narrative, which I believe will be important to understanding the last episodes of the series, but that’s an aside. In 15x08 Our Father Who Aren’t In Heaven, Castiel _tells Michael the story_ of how everyone ended up where they are now to convince him to help. And Michael and Adam’s allyship, if not friendship, was probably the best subversion of any “storytelling” expectation we’ve ever had on this show. Belphagor set us up for “room full of crazy” or something, but, no. We got symbiosis.

That almost sums up how I’ve been viewing the last “era” of spn. This wasn’t in the master post, but I shouted a lot about underworlds before 15x09 Purgatory 2: Return to Purgatory, and then stopped shouting because I had to ferment for a while. Also, as has been mentioned, the world turned to crap. But talking to other meta writers during the ramp up to the resumption of the season helped me realize just why this reading of myth to folktales to literature feels so right.

Underworlds and Otherworlds…. Everybody has crossed into an “underworld” or three in Supernatural, it’s really nbd. It was actually surface-level plot in season 13. By the time 15x09 rolled around, our heroes are just, like, strolling in and out of “sealed off” Hell after doing a level one spell and chilling with Billie in the Empty and even that Purgatory trip didn’t have the same feeling of danger that, say, crossing into the AU did. But also, we’re at the point where subtext is leading us to a _satisfactory_ ending. Where before we had serial text, like a cumulative tale type-- “The House that Jack Built”-- which just kept adding more and more plot, we’re hurtling o’er the apex of Freytag’s pyramid now and things are getting loud.

But they’re also getting very shifty.

I wrote a little bit about Sam Winchester successfully reviving Eileen in 15x06 Golden Time and the “Orpheus and Eurydice” symbolism of him keeping his back to her. (I’m not linking it because it’s so, so rough.) But because Sam is not an underworld hero, not completely-- I see him as a modern Protagonist coming to terms in a psychoanalytical model with things like mortality, fallibility, and mastery-- maybe bildungsroman, even -- he was able to subvert the tragic ending of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice because it is not “his” story. But if I were pressed to find a mythic or folk tale type to measure Sam against, I could. I would probably sideye “the sorcerer’s apprentice” trope (ATU 325-The Magician and his Pupil :D ) which began as a poem that entered European folklore on different fronts. (and weirdly, that story was also Disnified in Fantasia. That’s probably more my own limitation as a gen x american lol than anything coming from the writer’s room.)

Dean got his moment in Purgatory where he was able to finally come to grips with his anger and heal the rift between himself and Castiel because Purgatory is a different kind of underworld. Dean is a successful threshold-crosser, having crossed that boundary out of Purgatory before, but in 15x09, his prayer to Castiel is all a subtextual evocation of doing the emotional and mental work of therapy, which Sam, as a modern protagonist, is usually caught up in. The mythic hero also deals with mortality, failibilty, and mastery, but in different terms. I hope I’m doing an okay job peeling apart these nuances that I’m seeing.

Since Castiel accompanied Dean to Purgatory, and in the past made his own wildly successful incursion into and out of Hell with Dean’s soul, and was the one in The Trap who actually retrieved the Leviathan blossom, Castiel counts as an underworld hero, too, but you can pull the lever and send the tumblers spinning again and make him a fairy tale character in that he has made this Bargain with the Empty which is both in the “modern” tradition of subverting a fairy tale, and the tale type “deal with the devil.” Or he could be seen as a modern protagonist in that he’s lowkey grappling with questions of selfhood and identification. “I am an angel of the lord.” “I am no one.” “It’s Steve, now.” “You are nothing.” “I am an angel.”

We even got an episode that playfully explored the concept of “hero” by subverting our expectations (Sam and Dean were rescued by, of all people, an upgraded Garth.) It was called The Hero’s Journey, after the Joseph Campbell book about mythic heroes.... !!! Like, what??? !!!! I didn’t even have anything to say about that episode, it just rocked. The “meta” was just all out there in plot, like the olives and boiled eggs in a 1950’s gelatin recipe.

Some of this slipperiness in the subtext points right at the study of folklore and the (admittedly Eurocentric at first) efforts to transform a “soft science” into something approaching scientific rigor. The Aarne-Thompson-Uther folktale index is today a codifying or cataloguing tool, with which anthropologists and literature scholars can line up stories based on the motifs found within them-- it is useful for cataloguing tales, making comparative studies, and for trying to trace these stories back through human history to find the One First Story of that type, for instance the ur-story that led to Snow White. When did people first start telling that tale, where, how did it spread, and why are we still telling it today? The danger in using the ATU index is that by stripping a story down to it’s bones, we lose the story, if that makes sense. The beauty of using the ATU index is that you find many, many more interconnected stories. It’s sort of a paradox. Some scholars criticize the ATU, claiming that one could take a random selection of these motifs and shuffle them to create a story and, you sort of could? That’s the beauty of the system.

So that brings us to Jack. I feel like Jack, as in Jack of all Trades, is anything that the narrative needs him to be. As far as I can find, “Jack” is not a “tale type.” He shows up alongside any number of them-- sometimes as a trickster, sometimes as a hero, almost always as a kind of slippery character. In the first folklore post, I invested many words in exploring Dabb’s obsession with threes-- AU Michael asks three beings what they desire, asks his human victim to guess his name three times, then we follow three sleeper stories, and so on. The original TFW was three people. But Jack makes four.

What is Jack’s story going to be?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And speaking for a sec about the origins of myth and folklore-- what about ALL OF THE OTHER PEOPLE in the world? Are they lowkey churning the matrix of reality on their own and generating their own content, like Becky and her AO3 stories and mackettes?

*¯\_(ツ)_/¯ intensifies*

It all just feels so good at this point, even the peril that I feel surrounding Castiel.

I *think* this will be the last of the longform metas before the end of the series. I mean, I can only hope so. I’ll drop some stuff about individual episodes that might be applicable as I rewatch, and I might clean up my post about Last Call and drop it on here, but I just wanted to kind of hold this up as a mile marker before the Final Seven air.

#the folklore of supernatural #idk even what to tag this

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honeym4rk · 4 years ago

Text

station (jjh)

college! jaehyun x reader word count: 3.0k summary: four times you find yourself alone with jaehyun at a bus station.

There is comfort in the silence.

With every step you take, there is a crunch of fallen, juniper leaves at your feet. Your canvas tote bag is looped around your shoulder, your fingers clinging to the straps like it would shield you from the awkwardness of the current circumstances.

He’s got his hands hidden in the cavity of his hoodie. His knuckle cracking is sporadic, and you cringe at just how many times they’ve made an encore in the past two minutes.

You really should have begged Mark to tag along and leave the shindig so that this wouldn’t have happened- but alas, the boy was still hooked by the prospect of winning the next round of Mario Kart against Donghyuck. ‘It does some good to my self-esteem,’ he’d said.

So here you are, sauntering bashfully to the bus stop with Jaehyun.

“So, uh- what bus are you taking?” You muster up the courage to speak up after a few minutes of painful reticence.

“I’d have to take 922 or 153 from the opposite stop to get back to hall,” he sighs. It’s clear that he reciprocates the weird, distinctive tension here.

“And you?” He faces you with his raised eyebrows and you’re baffled by the sudden eye contact made. Your eyes dart elsewhere.

“Oh, I’m taking 922 from here.” You nod your head imperceptibly at the bus stop ahead of you.

A few metres away, there’s a zebra crossing, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re finally about to part ways. Oh, you’re sure Jaehyun is a nice person and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that the unspoken, kind enmity in the air is capable of being taut so hard around your neck that you asphyxiate.

Ten more steps. Come on.

Five steps.

Three steps.

“I’ll see you next ti-”

Yet he doesn’t stop at the crossing. Instead, he continues his stride in tandem with yours towards the station. You stop in your tracks, slowly gesturing towards the beaconing street light with the hand you raised to bid adieu.

“Aren’t you going to, you know..?” Eyes hinting at the yellow streaks of light, at the bus stop across the road, anywhere away from his own. Jaehyun notices your halt and follows suit.

“Well, I mean, Mark did ask me to see that you got home safe....”

You immediately wrack your brain for an appropriate response to his chivalry. It’s unclear how you should react; he really caught you by surprise. And from the way he’s gnawing at his inner lip and raising a hand to scratch the nape of his neck, you infer that he’s abashed too. All you manage is a small, “Oh,” as more silence ensues, before you start to blabber,

“No, no, thanks, Jaehyun, but it’s really fine, you don’t have to.”

His lips are taut into a firm, straight line and he lets out a surreptitious hum.

“Let me just wait ‘til you board your bus. Is that okay? It’s getting pretty late.”

You want to vehemently object.

And you’re about to, but you let out a consenting “Yeah, alright.”

He’s invading your desiderated solace- yet something about his offer seems so genuine and saccharine that you comply out of curiosity. You’d heard things about Jaehyun around in school before, good things, especially seeing that he was well acquainted with your friends like Mark, but you’d never really encountered him until tonight, thanks to Donghyuck’s birthday celebration. Being a Linguistics student, fate hadn’t really presented many opportunities for him to meet someone majoring in Pharmacy.

Therefore- you think to yourself- it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s unlikely that you’ll actually talk to him again, since you’ll probably never be within a radius of at least ten metres from him again. It’s alright, it’s okay. You decide to let him be a gentleman.

So you bask in the quietude shrouding the two of you, as you sit on the metal form, awaiting the arrival of a yearned 922.

After all, there is the slightest hint of comfort in the silence.

There is also comfort in the familiarity.

You’re sure there’s a sense of déjà vu. It’s a similar scene to what had ensued a few weeks ago, at least, and you’re definitely surprised to be here again, with him . However, you’ve both abandoned the multi-layered cake of unease. It’s almost been completely devoured now. Fortunately.

Jaehyun’s chuckling relentlessly- nearly doubled over laughing- as you recount the earlier occurrences of the Friday night.

“Yeah, no, but I’d give anything to see the look on Donghyuck’s face again.” His eyes crinkle into small crescents as he runs a hand through his silver hair.

“He looked so confident that it was going to work and I’d already told him otherwise, but I really don’t know what he expected.”

Tonight, there had been an effort to study in Donghyuck’s apartment; considering the looming exam season. This purpose was indeed fulfilled, to some extent.

Then Donghyuck, feeling rather ravenous, decided that he wanted to indulge in a quick and easy two-ingredient Oreo mug cake. The video tutorial truly looked too good to be true- you’d seen multiple YouTubers debunk the content-farm produced recipes.

The wide-eyed boy was too desperate, however, as he credulously decided to fill his mug with crushed oreos and milk to the brim. He swore that it looked and sounded promising until a loud Pop! reverberated in the kitchen 30 seconds into heating.

Everyone gathered around to watch Donghyuck cry over his spilt milk, literally, as his appliance perpetually emitted smoke, its glass door burst open. Burnt mounds of moist black and white cookies were thrown at the white, metal walls of the microwave. Donghyuck fanned the plumes of smoke hastily.

“It looks like a volcano erupted.” Mark added, coughing, as he tried to swallow the chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat.

“Dude- I don’t want to say I told you so but,” You began to implore, before Donghyuck interjected.

“Maybe I should just try again, I think the microwave setting just wasn’t right.”

And so he did- but to no avail.

The two of you approach the tiny station side by side, and you relish the warm, fuzzy feeling establishing in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but maybe more like a tiny sprout popping out of the ground.

“To be fair, though, it didn’t taste half as bad as it looked.”

You snort. “Sure, because it’s literally sugar and milk with a dash of hidden carcinogens.”

He lets out a low chortle. Jaehyun nails the bellowing dad laugh right down to a T, and some part of you finds this endearing.

A flash of bright light emerges as you look up from your feet. 922 has arrived and you’re rummaging through your bag for your bus card.

“I feel like I left my card at Donghyuck’s, shit,”

The bus halts.

“Here, use mine, I’ve got a spare.” Jaehyun offers without a second thought, pulling his card from the pocket of his denim jeans.

“Go on, the bus driver’s waiting.”

You would have thought this through for a little while longer, but he was right. A scowl that said ‘Stop wasting my damn time,’ is plastered on the driver’s face, and it urges you to carefully pick the card slotted between his fingers.

“Thanks so much- I’ll return it tomorrow, or something.” Your eyebrows furrow together and you clench your teeth together in a grimace.

“Yeah! Yeah, whenever. Good night, Y/N. Get home safe,”

“You too, thanks again!”

Boarding the bus hastily, you wave at him through the glass door as the bus sets off. He doesn’t leave until you’re out of sight.

You can’t help but grin as you examine the portrait on his student pass. He’s handsome, skin clear and glossy, hair parted such that there are a bunch of strands obstructing his forehead. It’s black in this image. You wonder how many colours it's been dyed. His dimples replicate the poked slime in the myriad of videos you’ve seen, and his cheekbones are incredibly prominent.

It dawns on you that you don’t have his number, or follow him on Instagram, or have any means to contact him at all. You guess that you’ll have to fish something from Mark, but Jaehyun seems to beat you to it.

Unknown, [2340]: hey this is jaehyun lol hope you get back safe :-)

A sudden flash of the many possible outcomes this could entail breezes past your mind. You’re quite uncertain about how this will play out, and you unlock your phone to reply.

Y/N, [2341]: hii hahah thanks again! i can return your card tomorrow, just lmk where i can drop by

Jaehyun, [2341]: yeah sure, i think i’ll be cooped up in starbucks doing work w my friends lol

Jaehyun, [2341]: u can join if ud like :o

There is comfort in the unknown.

There is comfort in the noise.

Your whole herd of boisterous friends are walking uphill from yet another study session at Donghyuck’s- there’s been quite a number of them since the first. You’re honestly amused by how many people can fit in his apartment. The study group has expanded from a mere four to a whopping seven people in total.

Thankfully, there haven’t been any microwave oven explosions since then, but you’ve had your good share of fun and company, and more importantly, productivity.

The pack of young adults currently divulging the extensive, latest gossip and hall horror stories, you and Jaehyun stray further behind. You’re trying to listen in and pick apart information, but you’ve joined the conversation a bit too late for context.

“Oh my god, Lia, you’re going to hate hearing this, but…” Jungwoo begins, his voice entering a decrescendo.

“But Jeno has a girlfriend? Yeah, I figured.” Lia wails. “I saw them together in the library the other day, being all cute and shit. My heart shattered .” She emphasises this by hitting Jungwoo’s shoulder out of pure frustration.

“How long have they been together, though?” Ryujin quips, to which she gets a reply, but you try to drown out the rest of their conversation.

You tug at the arm of Jaehyun’s sweatshirt, and he leans closer to you as you query, “Who’s Jeno, again?”

“Cute dude that she keeps bumping into at hall, I think,” he mumbles. His words are semi-intelligible, because of the commotion right in front of you.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.” The infinite frequencies are hard to tune out, and it gets increasingly arduous to do so when Ryujin gasps.

“Oh shit, the bus is here!” Your friends are immediately ready to break into a sprint, but Jaehyun’s feet seem heavy as he continues to meander with you.

“Jae, aren’t you coming? The next one’s in thirty minutes!” Jungwoo shouts as they begin to dash across the road.

“It’s fine, go on! I’m just a little lazy. See you!” Jaehyun dismisses him with the wave of his extended hand, and receives an incredulous look. The lame excuse confuses you, bamboozles you, but you wave goodbye to your friends anyway.

It’s been long since you’ve been caught alone here at the bus stop with Jaehyun- you usually head home with Mark every Friday. He’s not here, though. He’s crashed at Donghyuck’s for tonight.

“Uhm, what was that ?” You chuckle nervously, the little sprout in your belly magically reappearing. Truth be told, after the many lighthearted, late-night messages exchanged over the past few weeks, and after unravelling Jaehyun bit by bit, the sprout has grown into a pocket-sized garden. It brings its own butterflies, but you don’t quite have the audacity to admit this. There’s a different kind of trickiness lingering in the air tonight.

“Well, you know- Mark…and it’s- it’s getting late, kinda.” He’s timorous tonight. Under the luminescence of the bus station’s lamps, you see the pink tint land on the tips of his ears, something you’ve learnt happens when he’s rather shy.

“I wanted to ask you something, too, though.”

“Okay, shoot.” You take a seat. He sits a modest distance away from you, cracking his knuckles instinctively.

“Well, I uhm, I’m not quite sure how you’ll react to this but,” he licks his lips.

“But?” You encourage him to carry on, staring as you await his continuation.

He looks as if he’s got the words at the tip of his tongue, the sea of sentences about to overflow from his mouth, and they’re spilling when he starts speaking again.

“Would you-” You listen intently, attempting to read his lips. However, he’s cut off by the booming wails of a velocious ambulance. You whip your head around to watch the vehicle pass by.

Jaehyun breathes sharply, exhaling in frustration. The cries subside, so he tries again.

“Y/N,” he clears his throat, and you face him once more.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I was wondering if-”

A fire truck zooms past the bus stop, and your attention is grabbed by the monotonous siren that raids your ears. Jaehyun notices your bus approaching, and he panics. The air-raid isn’t becoming distant; the truck’s obstructed by the imposing red-light flashing. There’s only so much time left to ask what he’s been dying to- and he can’t believe he’s getting cockblocked by the emergency services right now.

You’re hearing Jaehyun spill a string of words but they’re incoherent- all you can seem to comprehend is the blaring repetitions that are relentless.

“What?!” You shout, fighting past the cacophony. “I can’t hear you!” You’re signing this to him, pointing to your ear and shaking your hand vigorously.

Your bus halts before you. Jaehyun’s in an absolute frenzy now. He doesn’t want to do this online. Something about hiding behind his screen sounds so ingenuine to him, and you’re already standing, shit, but he can’t win against the absolute pandemonium and doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the small crowd that’s alighted the bus, but he’s also not sure when he’ll get to talk to you in private like this again,

So he clamours.

“Do You! Want To Go Out! With Me!” He’s cupping his large hands around his mouth, screaming into the makeshift amplifier with all his might, as you walk towards the front doors of the bus.

You look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open in disbelief as you gawk at the boy who’s sheepishly glancing at everyone and using his hand to defend himself from their stares. The butterflies that have erupted in you are merciless.

And then you burst into a fit of laughter- Jaehyun curses the sirens for piercing through such a pleasant sound- and you nod profusely, one foot already boarding the bus.

The glass doors shut close, and you’re enthusiastically gesturing to your handphone, waving at him. The bus whizzes away.

He’s shell-shocked, and he’s unable to will his hands in drawing his phone from his pocket. The sudden series of vibrations brings him back to his senses.

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝),[2257]: WAIT ask me again

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: idk if i heard u right

Jaehyun, [2258]: k

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: dude come back </3

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: YES lol

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: yeeeeeeees

It heavily hinders Jaehyun that night, but there is comfort in the noise.

There is comfort in the isolation.

It’s only the blinding fluorescent lights and the cool breeze presenting company at the bus stop- you’re grateful that the occasional cars speeding by are helping you break down the very last walls of tension between the two of you, if there are any.

Whoosh.

“I really enjoyed today.” He smiles and steals a quick glance at you. You’re at a different bus stop now- a month later and you’re amazed that you’ve gone out with Jaehyun at least three times now.

You catch the slight twinkle in his eyes as he scoots a whole foot nearer towards you on the cool metal bench. The distance between the two of you is closing slowly yet your heart rate is augmenting. It’s accelerating now- faster than any of the rambunctious vehicles that race down the road, their engines revving dirtily.

Whoosh. A black BMW zooms past you both and you take the opportunity to reciprocate the cheeky glimpse.

“Me too.”

There’s fumbling of fingers and twiddling of your thumbs before you notice the sudden influx of light and buzzing and realise that your bus has arrived. Pure languish rushes through every vein in your body- you don’t want this night to end.

Jaehyun begins to stand and shoots a quizzical expression when you don’t follow suit.

“Let’s wait for the next one,” you grin, your legs swinging back and forth as you continue to glue yourself on the elevated seat.

The sound of his chuckle envelopes you into a warm hug- it’s deep, and strong, yet soft at the same time- and then you’re pulled to your feet by your wrists before he embraces you with confident hesitation too.

“Is this- it’s okay, right?” He just wants to be sure.

“Yeah- very.” You breathe, and his boyish smell fills your lungs. There is difficulty in naming what scented cologne he’s used today; but you devote no more attention. You just wallow in the tangy, mellow fragrance that has permeated your senses.

He’s got his arms coiled around your waist, his palm extended to press your back closer to him. You’re playing with the sharp, freshly cut hairs on the back of his neck. You run your fingers through them and he dives his head further into the crook of your neck. Jaehyun’s muffled voice is tickling your shoulder-

“Your hair smells really nice.” The corners of your lips edge upwards into an unrelenting grin.

“Thank God.”

There is comfort in Jaehyun.

#nct #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #jaehyun #nct imagines #nct oneshot #nct au #nct fanfic #hm4rk os #hm4rk jaehyun

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hozier-mp3 · 4 years ago

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destiel au fic recs?

Oh yes.

Once upon a time I made a post of every single one of my Fic Recs, and I’m especially fond of AUs, so I give you a list of just, solely, AU fics.

Let me start with my shameless self promotions. (They’re actually full of shame I’m sorry but those are my three AU fics I’ve written.

Alright, time for the real ones. *cracks knuckles* A Million Ways To Go by ChasingRabbits on AO3 - Castiel Novak is a preacher's son living in a world of black and white. Pragmatic and dutiful, he doesn't understand why anybody would want to make waves.Then the Winchesters move in down the street. Soon many of the skeletons in the Novak family's closet are exposed, and as the family faces them, Castiel begins to understand that there are many ways to see the world and so many more ways to live than what he's been told. - This is one of the few fics I’ve reread. The summary pretty much covers it, though, so I’ll let that one speak for itself.

Word Count: 91,079

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086183/chapters/2185029

Smiling Out Of Fear by thepinupchemist on AO3- Castiel Novak is a product of the system, having gone through too many foster homes since the age of seven. At fourteen, he lands himself in Sugar Lane Mobile Home Community under the care of Missouri Moseley. There, he meets one Dean Winchester. A story about teenage hooligans, growing up, and finding a home. - Okay, I’m not going to say anything other than the fact that thinking about this fic literally makes me almost start crying happy tears. I adore it. (I pretty much recommend everything thepinupchemist has written, but I haven’t gotten through it all yet.)

Word Count: 117,494

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007755/chapters/1998660 25¢ Pocket Guardian Angels by hopelessheathen on AO3- Dean walks into his local bank one day and notices that someone has filled the old gumball machine with these tiny, wiggling, sentient angels in individual plastic packaging. Deeply concerned about their air supply and the fact that they're trapped there in the sun, he starts pumping in quarters to rescue them. This is worse than leaving a dog in an overheating car. Now he's got forty of the little guys running all over his house, and god knows how many others might be trapped and dying all over the city. - I love this. I could read it three times a day and still get a smile on my face. It’s just a little one shot, but it’s worth the time it takes. Word Count: 13,325

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359713

Burden by riseofthefallenone on AO3 - Mutants are considered second class citizens, or worse. Discriminated against at every turn, mutants are marked and monitored by The Registry and any deemed too dangerous are taken away to The Facility. It’s no surprise that many try to hide or choose a more permanent way out if a mutation develops. Castiel’s parents hid his mutation and hid him away from the world. He’s grown up with the knowledge that the world will hate him, no matter what he does. If he leaves the house, he can only do it with a long, heavy coat that covers the most beautiful part of him. It takes a pair of brothers to help him really spread his wings and live. - Yet another I adore. If you’ll keep a secret for me, I’m actually not caught up, but I oh so desperately want to be. I’m kind of a sucker for wings in general, though, so that helps.

Word Count: 317,582

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613731/chapters/48945302

Out Of The Deep by riseofthefallenone on AO3 - Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better. - Okay, but holy shit. This was one of the first Destiel fics I read, and it heightened my standards to unbelievable places. I adore it. I could write essays.

Word Count: 488,608

https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676 True As It Can Be by whelvenwings - Growing up in a small town in Kansas, Dean learned from a young age that there was only one rule that couldn’t be broken, one place he couldn’t go - through the forest, to the long-abandoned Angel’s Hollow. But when Sam disappears, Dean’s left with no choice but to follow his brother's tracks through the dangers of the wood; little does he know that the most dangerous creature of all lurks not among the trees, but in the Hollow itself. Dean sets Sam free, at the cost of his own liberty - and, bound by magic, resigns himself to living out the rest of his days in the Hollow, at the mercy of the being within. The angel of Angel’s Hollow, however, has a story - is a prisoner, too, as much as Dean is. Only one thing can free them both - but it is impossible. For, after all: who could ever learn to love a beast? - This was the first, and last, Beauty and the Beast AU I ever read, but for good reason. I’m scared if I read another, that this one will absolutely shit on it and I won’t be able to enjoy it. I loved this fic very much.

Word Count: 71,952

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048568/chapters/24631101

Okay, before I even mention the next one, please read the tags. There are quite a few possible triggers and the tags, luckily, have accurate trigger warnings. And, of course, archive warnings. (And, of course, be sure to read tags on the others.) If you have issues with that, just scroll past this one, because the others are fine. (I think/hope so. At least. If you have any issues, please, let me know. I’ll put warnings above those too)

Defiant by thestorygirl on AO3 - Dean Winchester has devoted his career as a police officer to helping angel slaves in any way that he can. He even formed and heads the "Angel Welfare Task Force," which involved him being called to consult on any case involving slaves. This passion stemmed from an incident that happened twenty years previously, when a thirteen year old Dean failed to help his friend Castiel escape being sold to a sadistic owner. Dean had never really harbored any hope of finding his friend. He saw his work as something he did in memory of Castiel, to prevent others from suffering the same fate. But, when called out on a routine case one day, Dean was startled to find that he recognized the victim. - So, usually I avoid the Non-Con archive warning at all. But with this one, honestly, I’m lucky I didn’t. I could seriously write essays on this fic. I’m gonna shut up about it, just because I don’t want to talk too much about it. It’s seriously perfect.

Word Count: 133,352

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180202/chapters/4771569

Alright back to the ones that don’t quite need trigger warnings.

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster - Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?- I love Cas in this fic, his agoraphobia fits his usual outsider-ness and it’s just all beautifully characterized. I very much enjoy “the only exception” tropes as well, so....

Word Count: 94,054

https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747?view_adult=true Four Letter Word For Intercourse by Bendingsignpost on AO3 - As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties. What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.) - Holy shit. That’s... that’s really all I can say. Holy shit. Easily made my top five.

Word Count: 194,739

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591 Now, onto the one I haven’t finished, but like... so far.

Beck and Call by Soupernabturel on AO3 - 1922: Dean Winchester, eldest heir to the Winchester Estate, has a less than orthodox relationship with his servant, Castiel Novak. - Like I said, I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m vastly enjoying it at the moment.

Wow, it was really hard not to include canon ones lol. Anyways, I hope this helps Anon, and I hope you enjoy! I love all these authors, and you should give them all the love!

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bangtan-madi · 5 years ago

Text

All Of Our Lifetimes — Five: Requiem

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 5 / 15

Warnings — language

A/N — Taglist is open! Comment, message, or ask and I’ll add you to the roster :) (Also I’m a freakin’ moron and forgot to post on Wednesday night like usual, which was yesterday. So enjoy this late chapter lol!)

Previous — Next

The first person you text is Namjoon. To you, he was the obvious choice. Friendly, open, and the first of the members to accept you into their enclave. It wasn't anything in particular, just saying hi and reminding him of who you are and that you were looking forward to tomorrow.

Not two minutes later, he replies and invites you to join a group chat he'd just created for you and all seven members.

"This way, we can all keep in touch!" he says. "DMs are fine, of course, but if we all wanna get to know each other, group chats can be a lot of fun."

He wasn't wrong. The remainder of Sunday evening is spent texting the members. On the way home, while you cook a quick dinner, and when you're relaxing before bed. They're flooding your messages with all kinds of hilarity. Jungkook and Hoseok are a fan of memes, while Yoongi seems to prefer the straightforward communication that gifs provide. Jimin and Namjoon adore emojis, and Jin sticks to his usual bad dad jokes. Taehyung replies to a question every now and then, but for the most part, he's absent from the conversation.

"You're awfully quiet, Taehyung-ssi," Jimin teases half-way through a conversation on whether or not mint ice cream is edible.

"I'm working, but you guys are blowing up my phone so it's hard to concentrate."

A sigh slips out as you reply, "You can put your phone on vibrate, Taehyung. Really, we won't mind. Or at least I certainly won't."

His response is speedy. "Okay. I'll talk to you all tomorrow."

Namjoon sends you a private message. "Don't let him bother you. He can get like this when he's focused. He doesn't do well with things distracting him."

"Yeah...you're probably right."

"Oh, I definitely am!"

"Hey, thank you again for everything. Except for Kim Taehyung, I really feel at ease with everyone. I feel like we're going to get along great at the set tomorrow."

"My pleasure, [Y/n]. I really wanted to avoid you feeling like more of an outsider than you probably already do. Being in a new country, even if you speak the language, can be scary. I've been to enough of them to know that there's no place like home...but maybe we can make it a bit easier."

A smile spreads across your face at his genuine spirit and pure kindness. "You have, big time! Each of you is really fun to be around. Honestly? I can't wait for 'Run' tomorrow! Can I ask where we're going? I didn't see a production report yet, and Director Hyeon hasn't responded to my email."

"We'll probably knock out a few episodes in one night, and I think we're closing down the Seoul Museum of Art. They're going to close a bit early so we can have it to ourselves. The games we have planned will happen there!"

You turn your eyes away from your cell phone at the mention of the museum. Recalling what happened over the weekend, returning to that place doesn't seem like a terrific idea. But then again, if you are there with Taehyung, maybe the two of you can finally talk about what you see in your dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, you can get those answers.

Your resolve strengthens a little bit, and a new message comes through, one not from the group chat or Namjoon. You click out of your conversation with the leader and check the notification.

"Who are you?"

The question is blunt and straightforward, coming from the second-youngest member via a private chat. You open the message, and your fingers hover above the keyboard for a few moments.

"Hi Taehyung. What do you mean?"

"I know we've met before. I can't remember where."

You bite your lip at his statement. So you were right; he does have some sort of familiarity with you, too. Now, to figure out just how much.

"Have you been to a concert before? Or a fan-sign? Maybe you worked on the set of Hwarang?"

"None of those. I actually didn't listen to much of your music before recently, and I've never been to a concert or fan-sign. And I've never worked on any set before."

"You weren't a fan of BTS? Even though you applied to Big Hit?"

"Nope. Actually, my roommate Milo was the Bangtan superfan. I heard of you guys through her, and then of Big Hit. I applied because I wanted to live in Seoul. It's been my dream all my life. Big Hit just happened to have the job I wanted in the ideal location. Call it fate, I guess."

A half-truth, but it will have to do for now.

"I know. I remember. Your gut feeling."

You pause, your fingers halting mid-type. How did he already know about that? You hadn't mentioned it in either the group chat or in the earlier conversation. In fact, the only person you'd mentioned the gut feeling about Seoul to was—

"I have to go, sorry. I'll see you at the museum tomorrow. I think you know the way."

The museum looks almost spooky after the sun begins to set over the buildings that touch the sky. Downtown Seoul is as beautiful as ever as the bright oranges and pastel pinks bathe the exteriors of each in brilliant colors. If it weren't for the thirty or so Big Hit employees rushing about, you might've stood at the entrance for much longer than thirty seconds.

But the moment you're on-scene, you go to work. One of the producers flags you down, offers a brief introduction, and tells you where to hide the English words.

"Have you seen what we did a few episodes back, eighty-seven and eighty-eight?" he asks, shoving a stack of stickers into your hands. "When we put Hangul all over the Oil Tank Culture Park?"

You shake your head, offering a sheepish smile. "I haven't...exactly watched too much 'Run.'"

The producer waves it off. "Just run around the building and stick these wherever you think seven boys may or may not find them. Feel free to go crazy. We have fifteen minutes to get everything set before filming starts. The boys should be here soon. So, go! Once you're done, come back here. While they're running around, you can help me with the grading system."

"Grading system?"

"They're going to make sentences with the words they find. Since you know English the best, you can award points to each word based on difficulty in using."

A smile spreads across your face. "Got it! Sounds fun."

You speed off into the museum, weaving past the sound and lighting crew that are attempting to set up. Several of the museum staff have also stayed behind to give guidance, and you're relieved that the boys and company have the entire building to themselves. This wouldn't be possible during daytime hours when the public is here.

You begin sticking several dozen stickers along the walls, on the frames of pieces of art, on the marble floor. Basically, anywhere you can reach. You cover the Van Gogh exhibit with difficult words like "effervescence" and "halcyon," along with colorful words like "lilac" and "vermilion."

The further into the building you move, the fewer and fewer people you see. Once you've passed the room of modern art and approach the Winged Victory of Samothrace, there's no one in sight. Down to your last few words, you slip into the dimmed hallway and turn the corner.

Winged Victory is just as you remember. Tall and beautiful and haunting. The statue is still so familiar to you. Looking at the base, you can almost see the body of the woman from your dream. Right before you and Taehyung started running for your lives, this was where a murder occurred.

You flinch at the memory of the blood, but something else inside you is pulling you out of the room and towards the fountain. Last time you saw it, you ran from the room and left the friendly acquaintance behind. Part of you wonders what he must've thought. Surely, you looked like you'd seen a ghost.

But you might as well have.

Your feet tip-toe on the marble. The boys have most certainly arrived, and the filming has started from the sound of it. Their crazed and excited laughter fills the echo-y halls. Seeing as there aren't any stickers this far into the museum, you take your chances and continue moving deeper in. The producer could wait just a few more minutes, couldn't he?

The last of the sunlight ricochets across each panel of glass in the dome ceiling, greeting you with shards of light skewed in every direction. Like fireflies dancing together, they bring an almost magical aura to the open space, one very different from the horrors of your nightmares. The columns are made of ever-moving fire, and the fountain is made of glittery stars.

As you stand in the doorway, your throat drys and tightens. Seeing this place again, no matter how different, brings back the memories you can't explain. Are they even memories? Surely, that has to be what they are. But from when or from whom, you can't explain. They're a requiem for someone you hardly know.

Does Taehyung know the answers? Does he know more than you about this event you keep playing over and over in your mind? He's been in your dreams ever since you were a child, as a version much older than you were then and even older than you are now. Who has just one dream their whole lives, unless the explanation is that he has that dream, too?

You shake your head at the absurdity of it all. "What am I doing here?" you murmur, running your hand through your hair.

"Are you okay?"

The deep voice behind you causes you to jump and spin, eyes wide as you spot a familiar face at the entrance to the fountain. Taehyung stands with his hands in the pockets of his pants, his head tilted as he observes you.

"Holy shit, don't sneak up on people!"

The brunet smirks a little and shrugs. "Didn't mean to, sorry. You were staring off into space and didn't even hear me walk down the hallway. And it's hard to be quiet on marble floors."

"God, sorry, I didn't mean to snap." You run your hands over your face. "This museum has...some strange memories for me. I thought coming back here would help, but I think I've made it worse."

"How do you mean? I thought you hadn't been to Seoul before?"

"I haven't. It's complicated." Your eyes flicker to the corridor behind him. "Where's your cameraman?"

"I ditched him, told him I was running off to the restroom. But I didn't see you anywhere, so I figured you'd be back here."

Eyebrows pulling together, you reply, "How'd you figure that?"

"Well, you seemed really freaked out last weekend. You ran out of here like a ghost was chasing you. I was honestly worried until I saw you at Big Hit the next day, and you seemed fine, so..."

He trails off, and the realization of his words hits you. "Wait...shit, were you the one I was talking to both times I visited here this week? The one in the hoodie and mask?"

Taehyung nods, though there's a tiny line between his brows that shows he's as confused as you are. "Yes? I thought you knew that from day one, when you spoke to me at the Van Gogh exhibit."

Shaking your head fervently, you spout, "No! Not at all. I had no idea, honest to god. I just thought you were shy or introverted or maybe had a tough time talking to girls. I never, ever thought you were..." You gesture to all of him.

His brown eyes widen as he steps closer and out of the doorway. "Wait, really? You had no idea."

"None!"

He chuckles softly, turning to gaze at the fountain as the sunlight fades to soft blues of night. "I'd assumed you knew who I was. You were so open and friendly to a perfect stranger. I thought you'd recognized me."

"Not at all," you retort. "I was being nice and friendly because there was something about you that was so damn familiar. Kind of like this whole place, actually. I don't know. I can't explain it."

Taehyung nods and runs a hand through his curly locks. "I won't lie, there's something off about this place for me, too." He shifts his attention from the fountain to you. "You weren't lying about anything you said before, were you? About you being called to Seoul and not knowing why?"

You lock eyes with him as you reply, "I promise, everything I said was true."

"Then why did you run away?"

A heavy sigh slips out, and you sit down on the water fountain's edge. Looking into the water to your side, you run various ways to go about this disclosure. Blunt truth? A comforting lie? A bit of both?

"[Y/n]?"

"I've had this...nightmare, ever since I was a little girl. Ever since I could remember. It's always the same. I'm running for my life with someone I know that I care deeply about. We're trying to escape a murderer who's closing in behind us. He's just slaughtered one of our friends and he's coming for us."

You pause to take a breath, and Taehyung takes that pause to sit beside you. He doesn't say a word, only waist patiently for you to continue.

"We're eventually trapped. The man with me tells me to run while he distracts the murderer. Of course, I don't listen. There's a fight. We're both injured. And we both die."

There's a pregnant pause in the air before Taehyung hangs his head and murmurs, "That sounds horrible."

"I haven't told you everything," you reply. "I'm afraid I shouldn't...but what the hell." You gesture to the space around you. "In my dream, the entire thing is set here, in the Seoul Museum of Art. Our friend was killed at the base of Winged Victory. The fight happens among these columns. And the man and I, we die in this very fountain, bleeding out from gunshot wounds."

You turn to face the man beside you, seeing his eyes shift from his feet to yours as his head tilts slightly. "And every time, it's the same three people besides me. The same woman at the base of Winged Victory, the same murderer with a gun, the same man that this nightmare-version of me loves. I have no idea who the first two are..."

In your hesitation, Taehyung says, "But you know the last one."

Nodding, your knuckles turn white as you drip your knees. Here it goes. All or nothing. No turning back now.

"I do. He's—"

"—Me."

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can, @jaienn

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