#so i just need a random stranger to confirm or deny i guess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lividstar · 17 days ago

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ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Eleven: You Wonder why I’m Bitter

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 8.2k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Alone and aching for the connection that once felt so natural, you reluctantly turn to an unlikely companion: Pompidou, who listens to you pour out all the longing you’ve fought so hard to bury. While you grapple with the emptiness left by Hongjoong’s sudden withdrawal, he, too, finds himself lost, wrestling with the very feelings he’s tried to deny. Haunted by memories and choices he can’t quite reconcile, Hongjoong is caught between the familiarity of the past and the confusing reality of the present.

a/n: was supposed to upload this on the 27th cause that’s my birthday but i just can’t wait any longer 😅 keep an eye out for the littlest of details because nothing is as it seems in this chapter :P lmk what you guys think!

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl

First of all, I hate myself. Second of all, I hate myself. Oh, and did I already mention that I hate myself? I just don’t know what to do anymore! It feels like it’s been a whole decade ever since I last picked up a pen to scribble on this godforsaken journal… I wish I could just go back to the time I was writing the page behind the one I’m writing on right now and just cancel my flight to Paris. This is all so frustrating, you know? Fashion Week is nearing, and I am not prepared at all—no, not even a little. I’m supposed to be spending my hours inside the studio practicing runway walks and testing out facial expressions, but no! I’m way too afraid of crossing paths with Hongjoong to even think about the consequences of not taking my preparations seriously! And speaking of Hongjoong…

He’s driving me to the edge of my sanity. I don’t know what’s going on with him—okay, scratch that, I definitely do. I just don’t get why he’s acting so avoidant all of a sudden… I mean, like, okay, I would understand his unprovoked need for distance between us if we actually kissed that night, but we didn’t. The farthest step we were able to take was just him holding onto the sides of my face and me looking at his lips like I’m a starved dog looking at its first meal of the day before Wooyoung fortunately interrupted us—so why is he acting up?

He’s like one of those girls you’d befriend in highschool who’d show up on the hallways suddenly judging your entire soul on a random Wednesday, and I don’t like it. Seriously, what’s his problem? He made me accustomed to his usual sweet and caring persona, and all of a sudden, he wants to act like this? What have I done wrong? Wasn’t it literally him who initiated the… whatever I’m supposed to call what happened that night?

I’m just concerned, you know. It’s been two weeks, and yet he’s still avoiding me like I’m the plague. I haven’t been receiving any messages from him at all lately, either. Even Madame Dupont is asking me why she no longer sees the “small young handsome boy” waiting for me outside the apartment building while leaning against his car. Wooyoung’s been trying to persuade me into confirming his theory that Hongjoong and I are going through a lovers’ quarrel for three days now, too. And guess who’s the most troubled of them all? Seonghwa. He’s been doing his best to put us back into speaking terms for a while now, and I don’t know why—I swear I didn’t ask him to do that.

Everyone is worried. Everyone but him.

You know, this brings me back to that unrecognizable faceless guy I see in some of my blurry flashbacks. I remember him asking me how long I’ve been bottling up my emotions, and when I told him I’ve been doing so for pretty much my entire life, he told me to consider writing in a journal.

What does the unrecognizable dude have to do with Hongjoong and his unreadable behavior? Nothing.

I just noticed that it’s been a while since I last wrote a journal entry, and… it’s been a while since I last let my emotions unravel. I remember the words that came out of his mouth that day.

“When you can’t figure out what you’re feeling, or if you need to let it all out, the only thing you have to do is pull this out along with a pen, and from then on, you can start writing away. Let yourself get lost in your own world.”

You know what, in a way, I think he and Hongjoong actually have something in common. I know I can’t say much because I only have one memory of this guy, but he spoke with as much wisdom as Hongjoong does. Also… “let yourself get lost in your own world.” That’s honestly the most Hongjoong-ish advice someone could ever give, given how he himself gets lost in his own world of artistry, too.

I just wish he’d stop ignoring me. I can’t help but feel like this is all somehow my fault… Am I just hurting myself by expecting things to suddenly go back to the way they used to be?

As you closed your journal with a weary sigh, your eyes drifted to the dim glow of your bedside clock reading 2:37 a.m. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of distant traffic, yet you felt far from at peace. It was a night for sleep, yet your mind wouldn’t quiet; thoughts of Hongjoong twisted and turned within you, refusing to settle.

“Why does it feel like this?” you murmured, pressing your palms into your face, as if that could somehow soothe the ache in your chest. You longed for comfort, for answers, even for a brief respite from the confusion that had become your constant companion. “If only that faceless guy could telepathically whisper some words of wisdom to me right now…”

Two weeks had passed since you last shared any words with Hongjoong—two weeks where every glance, every passing moment, felt laced with an unspoken tension that only deepened the rift between you. It was all becoming painfully real, the shift so clear to everyone around you. But no one knew the truth—the moment you almost kissed, the silent proximity that had left you dizzy and wondering. Even Seonghwa, in his genuine concern, couldn’t know the pang of vulnerability that had filled that night, the fear and excitement mingling as you’d come closer than ever before.

Your mind flashed back to the other day when the ache of his absence had been sharpest. You passed by him in a hallway, hoping for a flicker of his usual warmth, his soft gaze that once reassured you of your place in his world. But he’d brushed past with such indifference—not even nodding to acknowledge your presence, a chill in his demeanor that left you hollow. And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you alone with a rising sense of loss.

Without thinking, you picked up your phone and opened your gallery. Photos of Hongjoong filled your screen, and your eyes drift over candid snapshots—some of you and Hongjoong working late in the studio, others of him laughing or looking thoughtful, moments caught by your camera that now feel like glimpses into another lifetime. There’s a picture of him outside your apartment building, waving you goodbye one evening. Another shot of him hunched over his desk in concentration, unaware that you’d snapped the photo from across the room. Then, there’s a particularly precious one of the two of you, taken in his office—which was likely Wooyoung’s doing.

As you scroll, an ache blossoms within you, spreading in slow, insistent waves that make your chest feel tight. You can feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, and it catches you off guard. Why now? Why does he, of all people, have this power over you? You swipe at the tears, frustrated by the sudden swell of emotion. It’s not supposed to be like this, you tell yourself. Hongjoong is supposed to be your friend, your mentor, the one person in Paris who helped you find your footing when everything felt foreign. But as the images blur beneath the glisten of unshed tears, you can’t help but wonder if that’s all he’ll ever be—someone whose warmth once felt like home, and whose absence now feels like a loss you’re not ready to face.

The soft scratching at your window pulls you abruptly from your thoughts. For a moment, you freeze, glancing back at the phone you’d just placed on your desk. Carefully, you grab your journal—a flimsy defense, maybe, but it’s better than nothing. Heart pounding just slightly, you step forward, inching closer to the window.

When you peek over, you’re met with a familiar sight: Pompidou, the resident stray cat who had made the apartment building his kingdom, sits with one paw pressed to the glass, his usual unamused expression aimed your way.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders as you let out a soft laugh. Setting your journal on the bed, you reach over to open the window, letting him slip inside with practiced ease. He slinks past you with the air of someone who owns the place and makes himself right at home, hopping onto your bed and circling until he’s claimed his spot in the center.

You sit beside him, running a gentle hand over his soft fur. It’s strange how much you missed him. For the past few weeks, your room felt emptier without his occasional visits—without that extra little creature who just… understood you, in a way. And now, with Hongjoong’s absence haunting you, Pompidou couldn’t have come at a better time.

The thought hits you harder than you expect: here you are, at your lowest, relying on a cat for comfort simply because the one person you’re used to confiding in has become distant, almost like a stranger. The ache in your chest intensifies, and before you know it, you’re lying down next to him, resting your head on the bed and gazing at his calm, indifferent eyes. It feels silly, pathetic even, to be speaking your heart to a cat, but in this silence, with no one else to turn to, you let yourself unravel.

“Pompidou,” you whisper, voice barely holding steady, “I… I don’t know what I did wrong. Everything was fine, wasn’t it?” Your fingers tremble as they thread through his fur, a warmth grounding you in the midst of your unraveling. “I don’t know how we ended up here. He’s always been there for me, and now… it’s like he’s vanished. And I’m trying, I really am, but every time I reach out, it’s like he’s miles away.”

A sharp breath catches in your throat, and you look up at the ceiling, fighting against the tears stinging your eyes. “It’s probably all my fault,” you confess in a whisper that breaks. “Maybe I was too much, or maybe I should have… I don’t know, said something differently, done something better. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him to eat dinner that night so that…” A bitter chuckle slips out as you squeeze your eyes shut. “It’s funny, you know. All my life, I’ve been terrified of being alone, of people walking out… and now here I am, trying to be okay with him pulling away like it’s nothing.”

Pompidou shifts slightly, his warm body pressing into your side, a small reminder that he’s there, and he’s not leaving. You let your hand drop to your chest, feeling the dull ache that’s settled there. “I just miss him, Pompidou. I miss the way he used to look at me like I mattered. Now, he can’t even look me in the eyes. And I don’t know why I’m clinging to that, why I’m hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and go back to being who he was.”

The silence swallows you for a moment. “Maybe it’s because, deep down, I’m still the same pathetic teenager from Arcadia Bay who’s scared that she doesn’t deserve anything better. That she’s always going to be left behind, and this… this is just proof.” Your voice falters, words thick with pain you can no longer hold back. “And if he leaves, then maybe it’s what I deserve.”

“Maybe I was the one who left him in an alternate reality, and this is the price I have to pay for it,” you joke, but it only feels like a pathetic attempt to make yourself feel better.

The pain is so sharp it almost feels physical, a hollow ache that makes every breath feel heavier than the last. You close your eyes, fighting against the helplessness clawing at your insides, but the words keep pouring out, jagged and raw, as though voicing them might lessen the weight—even if it’s only to a cat who can’t respond.

“Do you know what’s worse?” you whisper, fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt over your chest as if you could hold yourself together by sheer will. “It’s that I can’t even be mad at him. I want to be—believe me, I’ve tried. I tell myself he’s the one pulling away, that he’s the one who’s changed, but then I start wondering… what if I pushed him to this? What if I’m the reason he’s slipping through my fingers?”

A soft tremor runs through your hands, and you curl them into fists, teeth gritted as you force the tears back. “I keep thinking… maybe he’s right to distance himself. Maybe there’s something broken in me, something that just drives people away. And the worst part is, I keep wishing he’d come back, like I’d somehow be enough if I could just—”

Your voice catches, breaking into a whisper as you bury your face in your hands, barely holding in the sob that threatens to spill out. “I just don’t understand. He was my safe place, Pompidou. For the first time in so long, I actually felt like I mattered. He made me feel seen. And now… now I feel invisible all over again, like everything we shared was just temporary, like it didn’t mean anything.”

Pompidou shifts closer, his soft purr rumbling beneath your fingertips as you stroke his fur, a small solace in the middle of this storm.

“I try to convince myself that I’m fine, that I can go on without him,” you continue, voice cracking as the words spill out unchecked. “But the truth is, I’m terrified. I’m scared that if he leaves… if he’s really gone, I’ll be alone again, just like before. And I hate myself for feeling this way, for being so… so weak.”

The tears finally break free, slipping down your cheeks in a silent flood. “What does that say about me? That I’m so dependent on him, that I can’t even imagine my life without him? I thought I was stronger than this, that I’d learned how to stand on my own. But now… now it’s like I’m right back to that scared, lonely kid I used to be, clinging to anyone who shows me a hint of kindness.”

You pull your knees to your chest, holding yourself as tightly as you can, as if you could somehow shield yourself from the emptiness swallowing you whole. “I can’t stop thinking that maybe this is all I deserve. That maybe I’m meant to be alone. Maybe he’s finally seeing me for who I am, and he’s realizing I’m not worth it.”

Your shoulders shake as the sobs escape, quiet and raw, each one cutting through you like glass. Pompidou curls closer, his little face pressing against your arm, as though he understands in his own way. But his silent comfort only deepens the ache, a reminder that the person you need more than anything isn’t here, and you’re left holding yourself together with nothing but frayed threads of hope.

With a shuddering breath, you finally admit the fear you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. “What if he doesn’t come back, Pompidou? What if this is it? I don’t think… I don’t think I can handle losing him. Not like this.”

Your voice drops to a whisper, the words coming slow and soft as you gaze out the window, eyes unfocused. “I just… I miss him, Pompidou,” you murmur, fingers absently tracing patterns against the sheets.

“I miss all the little things that made it feel like he was a part of me, like he was woven into my days without me even realizing it. I miss the way he’d send me random sketches, the ones that made no sense but made me laugh anyway, like he was letting me in on his little worlds. I miss… I miss how he’d always have this ridiculous drink order for me every time we’d meet up at the café where we switched up our notebooks with one another before we met for the first time. It’s like he knew exactly what I’d need, even if I didn’t.”

The memories wash over you, and you can’t stop the warmth from pooling in your chest as you picture those moments. “I wish we could go back to that time when things were… simple. When I could sit beside him without feeling like the whole world was shifting under my feet. When he’d laugh and look at me like I was… like I was something special, you know?”

Your voice trembles, and you tighten your grip on the sheets. “And the thing is… it was just easy with him. He’d be there, always making me feel like nothing could go wrong as long as we were together. He’d be there with his quiet, comforting presence, and I could just… be. I didn’t have to pretend or put on some mask. It was like he could see right through me, and somehow, he didn’t care about all the mess he found.”

You take a deep breath, the words spilling out like a plea. “I just want to go back, Pompidou. Back to before everything felt so fragile, before that almost-kiss, before this… this distance. I wish I could reach out and take it all back. I’d give anything just to have things feel normal again.”

Pompidou tilts his head, eyes blinking up at you, and you can’t help but laugh, a soft, broken sound that catches in your throat. “I know it sounds silly, doesn’t it? I mean, how could I expect anything to be the same after that? But I can’t help it, Pompidou. I want to go back to when he’d smile at me like that, when I didn’t have to wonder if I was the one pushing him away.”

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of each memory anchor you down. “I miss his laugh. I miss his stupid jokes. I miss the way he’d lean closer when he talked about his dreams, his voice getting all serious like he could see every detail in his mind. And I miss… I miss feeling like I belonged somewhere, like I belonged with him. I miss how he’d look at me with this warmth, like I was enough, just as I was.”

The words come out like a broken whisper, a confession you’ve been holding inside for far too long. “I can’t stop missing him. I wish… I wish I could go back to that last night before everything shifted. Before the night we nearly kissed, before I even realized what I felt. I wish I could’ve just stayed there, in that moment, without letting any of it change.”

You hug your knees, curling up as the ache settles deeper, heavier. “But I can’t. And now it’s as if I’m left with pieces of him in everything around me, and I don’t know how to put myself back together without him.”

You pull yourself up, exhaling slowly, and walk over to your desk. The room feels quiet, still heavy with everything you’ve let out, yet somehow emptier too, as if releasing the words has left you hollow. With a shaky hand, you pick up your phone and make your way back to bed, curling up beside Pompidou, who has already claimed his spot against your pillow. Settling into the blankets, you scroll through your contacts, your thumb hovering over Hongjoong’s icon.

It’s just his initials next to a simple photo he once sent—a candid moment he probably forgot about, something so ordinary that it’s precious now. The way he looked when he didn’t realize anyone was watching: a slight smile, eyes softened by something he found funny, maybe even a bit endearing. The sight makes your chest tighten, and you let yourself scroll up, reading through old conversations like leafing through the pages of a treasured book.

Each message brings back flashes of shared laughter and late-night ramblings, little moments where time seemed to pause, and it was just the two of you—untouchable, safe. You linger on a message he sent on a rainy afternoon, a random joke he thought would cheer you up. Your lips curl into a faint smile, but it’s bittersweet. There was a time when it was so easy, so effortless, like breathing. He had a way of knowing exactly when you needed a reminder that he was there. But now, that comfort feels distant, unreachable.

A tear slips down your cheek again before you realize it, and you hastily swipe it away, but the sorrow wells up again, slipping past your guard. As if sensing your pain, Pompidou extends a soft paw, resting it gently below your eyes, and you feel his fur against your cheek, grounding you in a way that words can’t. His small gesture tugs a quiet, breathy laugh from you, despite the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to catch your sadness, pulling it away piece by piece, his wide eyes fixed on yours with an empathy you can almost feel.

You let your head fall, hugging Pompidou close, allowing yourself to finally surrender to the pain and let it wash over you without restraint. The loneliness, the longing, the hollow spaces Hongjoong’s absence has left in you—all of it spills out as you clutch the feline tightly, letting his warmth and steady breathing lull you into a fragile sense of comfort. The room seems to blur, softening around you as the weight of everything you’ve been holding back presses into you.

The tears come faster now, unstoppable, and your quiet sobs fill the silence, raw and unfiltered. It’s just you and Pompidou, and for a moment, it feels like you’re not truly alone. There, in the quiet solace of your room, you cling to that small comfort, letting yourself feel every ounce of longing, letting yourself miss him—fully, desperately, hopelessly.

—

Meanwhile, Hongjoong stood in his office, the warm, nostalgic tones of “La Vie en Rose” playing softly from the record player behind him. His gaze fixed on the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and he fought to keep his emotions in check. Each note lingered in the air, pulling him deeper into the web of memories he was desperately trying to forget. This song, of all songs—he could still remember how it had been playing when the two of you had stood together in the flower shop, laughing over bouquets and trading light-hearted jokes as if the world beyond didn’t exist.

Part of him knew he could walk over and turn it off. The music was his to control, after all. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. The melody was the last fragile thread that kept him tethered to you, a reminder of the warmth he felt in your presence, the comfort of knowing someone understood him.

The dim light from the city outside cast a soft glow over his office, illuminating the expanse of papers scattered across his desk, the outlines of unfinished sketches and hastily scrawled notes, all reminders of the whirlwind he’d buried himself in since he started pushing you away. Each corner of the room felt saturated with memories of you—and it was strange how a space that had once felt so alive now seemed hollow, absent of the warmth you’d brought into it.

He tried to focus on the skyline again, his eyes tracing the glittering lights of the city. It was an attempt to ground himself, to pull himself back from the turmoil inside him. But tonight, every bit of stillness he attempted felt false, every piece of composure barely hanging by a thread. All he could think about was you—the absence of your presence filling every empty space in his mind, as if refusing to be silenced.

He turned slowly from the window, allowing his gaze to wander over his desk. It was almost impossible to remember the last time he’d felt fully at ease in this room. The stacks of designs that had once held so much promise now felt like hollow accomplishments, each one only reminding him of the fire you’d helped him ignite. His eyes landed on a small pendant lying amidst the clutter. The flower encased inside had faded slightly, its once-vibrant petals softened by time. He picked it up, cradling it carefully in his hand, feeling a strange tenderness rise within him.

You’d given him that flower, pressing it into his hand with a shy smile as you murmured something about it bringing him luck. He could still recall the way your fingers had lingered against his, the brief but electric touch that had left him wondering if you felt it too. “For good luck,” you’d said, your eyes sparkling in that way they always did when you felt especially close to him.

Hongjoong swallowed, feeling a tightness in his chest as he held the pendant closer. How was it that something so small could carry the weight of so many memories? He closed his eyes, and the warmth of your smile flashed in his mind, as vivid as if you were standing beside him. But now, as he held the pendant, it felt heavier, like a tiny piece of the past he was terrified of losing forever.

In his mind, he slipped back to that night—the one that had started as an ordinary work session, yet had unraveled into something far more vulnerable. He could still feel the closeness of the room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows as you both worked side by side, immersed in the quiet moment you shared.

You’d shared things that night that were never meant to leave the room. He could still hear your voice, low and hesitant, as you revealed the fears you held closest to your heart. “Being left alone,�� you’d admitted, your words raw and unguarded. The truth of it had lingered between you, a quiet vulnerability that had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

When you turned the question back on him, he’d hesitated, feeling the weight of his own guarded secrets pressing against his chest. But in that quiet space, under the gentle glow of the lamp, he’d found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to in years. “Losing myself,” he’d whispered, his voice barely audible, but enough for you to hear. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Now, standing alone in his empty office, Hongjoong felt the irony of it all washing over him. He’d tried so hard to protect himself, to build walls so high that even you couldn’t reach them. But now, it felt as if he had developed a new fear bigger than losing himself—losing you.

A quiet knock on the door broke his reverie, and he tensed, slipping the pendant into his pocket as he turned. Wooyoung’s face appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of Hongjoong standing alone, the haunting strains of La Vie en Rose still spinning softly from the record player across the room.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to the player, where the melody had been looping for what must have been the better part of an hour. “Still here?” he asked quietly, a hint of concern threading his tone.

Hongjoong forced a slight smile, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Wooyoung stepped further into the room, his gaze sharp as it settled on Hongjoong. “You know…” Wooyoung began, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall, “the world can see how miserable you are. Including her—especially her.”

Hongjoong stiffened, the forced nonchalance slipping from his face as he turned away, staring intently at the record player as if it held all the answers he was struggling to find. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, the words feeling hollow even to his own ears.

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung’s tone softened, a hint of exasperation breaking through. “I know you. I know how much you care about her. And I know you’re running from something you can’t outrun. But you’re not fooling anyone by pretending it doesn’t matter.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with all the reasons he’d built to keep you at a distance. Each one felt logical, safe, a way to protect himself from something he couldn’t quite name. But here, with Wooyoung standing there, watching him with that steady gaze, he felt every layer he’d built start to unravel.

“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, barely audible above the music.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning softer, almost pleading. “Then what are you doing, Hongjoong? Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone too scared to reach for what he really wants.”

Hongjoong’s heart twisted painfully, Wooyoung’s words hitting far too close to home. He felt the weight of everything he’d tried to suppress rising within him, a tidal wave of emotions he’d buried so deeply he’d convinced himself they were gone. But Wooyoung’s words had brought them to the surface, and now, there was no escaping them.

A silence stretched between them, and Hongjoong’s gaze fell to the floor. In that moment, he felt utterly vulnerable, as though Wooyoung could see right through him, could see the aching desire he’d tried so hard to deny. He didn’t have to say it—Wooyoung already knew.

Hongjoong’s fingers were still curled around the pendant in his pocket when Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “So,” Wooyoung began, breaking the silence, “are you really going to stand here, pretending everything’s fine?”

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched, his shoulders tensing. He wanted to brush off Wooyoung’s words, to deflect with some casual response that would keep the carefully built walls intact. But his mind was a battlefield, each memory of you cutting through his defenses like a blade.

“Everything is fine,” he replied tersely. He didn’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes, focusing instead on a spot just beyond his shoulder.

Wooyoung’s brows knitted together, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That’s why you’ve been playing her favorite song on loop for the last hour. That’s why you’ve been holed up in here, avoiding anything that reminds you of her.” He shook his head, his tone equal parts exasperation and worry. “Hongjoong, you’re not fooling me. I know you, and I know you’re running from something—from someone.”

Hongjoong let out a low, frustrated sigh, finally looking up at Wooyoung. “Wooyoung, just drop it, alright?” He forced a tense smile, attempting to sound dismissive. “This… whatever you think is going on, it’s all in your head. We were just friends.”

But Wooyoung didn’t budge. “Friends?” He let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of disbelief. “You really want to go with that? Because the way you’re acting… it doesn’t look like you’re just missing a friend. You’re avoiding her like she’s a stranger, but then you’re here, playing her favorite song over and over, clutching onto that pendant like it’s the last piece of her you have.”

Hongjoong’s fingers instinctively tightened around the pendant, and he felt a pang of frustration rise within him. He didn’t want to admit that Wooyoung’s words struck too close to home. “I told you, it’s nothing like that,” he bit back, his tone sharper than intended. “You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his gaze not faltering. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re acting like a guy who’s desperately trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t even believe.”

“Wooyoung—”

“Hongjoong, you can’t keep lying to yourself.” Wooyoung’s tone softened, his voice carrying a gentleness that seemed to cut deeper than the words themselves. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I do know that you care about her. You’re not fooling anyone by pretending this distance is ‘better’ for either of you.”

Hongjoong’s patience began to fray, his frustration morphing into anger. He shot Wooyoung a glare, his voice rising. “It is better, Wooyoung. She… she deserves better. She doesn’t need to be pulled into whatever mess I am.” He paused, catching his breath, his anger mingling with something closer to desperation. “I’m not what’s best for her. And it’s better for the both of us if I keep my distance.”

Wooyoung’s expression shifted, his gaze hardening as he stepped closer, unwilling to let Hongjoong brush him off. “So, what? You think pushing her away, acting like she means nothing, is somehow good for her? You really think she’s better off without you?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong replied, his tone final, but the conviction in his voice was starting to waver.

Wooyoung gave him a long, scrutinizing look, and for a moment, the silence between them was thick with unspoken truths. Then, Wooyoung shook his head slowly. “You’re lying to yourself. And honestly? It’s pathetic, Hongjoong. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

The words hit Hongjoong like a slap, and a flash of anger surged within him, simmering beneath the surface. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “I’m doing this for her, so just… stop.”

But Wooyoung wouldn’t relent. “You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing this because you’re afraid. Afraid to admit how much she means to you. Afraid of what might happen if you actually let her in. Whatever you’re afraid of, whatever you think is keeping you from being with her… maybe it’s worth rethinking. Because if you keep running like this, you’re going to lose her. And then what?”

Hongjoong felt his control slipping, the carefully constructed barriers he’d built starting to crack under the weight of Wooyoung’s words. He clenched his fists, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “This isn’t about fear.”

“Isn’t it?” Wooyoung’s voice softened, a hint of understanding breaking through the frustration. “Hongjoong… I get it. You’re scared of losing yourself. Of losing control. But she’s not the one who’s going to make that happen. You are, by doing this. By trying so hard to keep her out.”

Hongjoong stayed silent, his chest tightening as Wooyoung’s words began to sink in. He wanted to deny it, to push back with the same conviction he’d clung to for weeks, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew there was truth in Wooyoung’s words.

Finally, Wooyoung let out a sigh, his tone softening even further. “Listen, man. I don’t know what almost happened, or why you’re so determined to stay away from her, but you have to ask yourself… is this really what you want?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to that night in your apartment—the feeling of your hand brushing his, the way your gaze had lingered on him, the unspoken tension that had nearly pulled him into something he couldn’t name. He’d wanted so badly to close that distance, to feel your lips against his, to let go of the fear and doubt that had held him back. But just as he’d leaned closer, Wooyoung’s call had snapped him out of the moment, bringing him crashing back to reality.

“Do you even understand how much she’s hurting, Hongjoong?” And there it was again—the harshness in Wooyoung’s tone. “Seonghwa told me she’s tearing herself apart over this. She doesn’t eat right anymore, and she barely even sleeps. She spends her nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong, wondering if she’s the problem.”

The words landed like a punch to Hongjoong’s gut, leaving him breathless. Images of you flashed through his mind—moments when he’d caught glimpses of your smile faltering, your laughter quieting, the spark in your eyes dimming little by little. He’d told himself it was just his imagination, that you were fine. But Wooyoung’s words shattered that illusion entirely.

“She thinks she did something wrong, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung continued, his voice filled with barely contained anger. “She actually believes she’s the reason you’re running. Every time you disappear, every time you pull away, she thinks it’s because of something she did. And the worst part? She doesn’t even blame you. She blames herself.”

Hongjoong’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as guilt clawed at him.

“Seonghwa told me she asked him if she was too much. Can you believe that?” Wooyoung’s voice cracked. “She actually thinks she’s too much for you. That she’s somehow burdening you, dragging you down. She’s convinced herself that if she were just… less, maybe you wouldn’t be running.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched, a wave of nausea rolling over him as he realized the full extent of the pain he’d caused. You—who had always been so vibrant, so unapologetically yourself—were now questioning every part of who you were, trying to shrink yourself down to avoid scaring him away.

“She’s not even angry at you, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice barely above a whisper now, each word a dagger aimed straight at Hongjoong’s heart. “She doesn’t hate you for this. She just… she thinks she’s not enough. Or that she’s too much. Either way, she’s convinced that she’s the problem.”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind reeling. He could feel the anchor of your pain weighing down on him; He’d done this to you—turned you into a shadow of yourself, left you grappling with doubts and insecurities that weren’t yours to bear.

“You’ve been so busy hiding behind your own fears,” Wooyoung continued, “that you haven’t even stopped to consider what this is doing to her. You’re so terrified of being hurt again that you’re hurting her—over and over, every day, with every step you take away from her.”

Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but the words caught in his throat. What could he possibly say to justify this? How could he explain that he’d been running not to hurt you, but to protect himself? It sounded so selfish, so small in the face of everything you were going through.

“And you know what’s really twisted?” Wooyoung’s voice dropped, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. “She’d take you back in a heartbeat. Despite everything, she’d still look at you the same way she did before you started pushing her away. She’d still forgive you, still try to see the good in you, because that’s who she is. That’s how much she cares.”

Hongjoong felt something break inside him, a quiet, shattering realization that left him reeling. You would forgive him. He knew that. He could see it in his mind—the way you’d smile softly, the way your eyes would fill with understanding, even now. Even after everything, you’d welcome him back, arms open, heart exposed, waiting.

“She deserves better, Joong.” Wooyoung’s words were softer now, the anger replaced by a raw, unfiltered honesty. “She deserves someone who doesn’t make her question her worth. Someone who doesn’t make her feel like she’s somehow wrong just for being herself. And if you can’t be that for her… if you’re too wrapped up in your own fears to let her in… then you need to let her go.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened, a hollow ache spreading through him as he struggled to process it all. He didn’t want to let you go. He couldn’t. But the thought of holding onto you only to keep hurting you, to keep dragging you through his own tangled web of insecurities and fears—it was unbearable.

“She’s barely holding up. She hides it well, but Seonghwa can see it. He told me how she sits alone for hours, just staring off into space, like she’s lost something she can’t find. She keeps her phone close, hoping maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach out. But every time you don’t... it breaks her a little more.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened painfully, each word slicing through him like a blade. He could see it so clearly now, every painful moment he’d forced you through. How you must’ve waited for messages that never came, must’ve spent countless nights wondering where things had gone wrong. The thought of you sitting there, lost in your own pain, while he’d been so focused on his own fears, was more than he could bear.

“And don’t think she hasn’t tried to talk to you.” Wooyoung’s voice turned sharp, accusatory. “Seonghwa told me how many times she’s wanted to reach out, just to make sure you’re okay, just to see if you’d give her even a scrap of reassurance. But every time, she stops herself. She doesn’t want to bother you, doesn’t want to seem needy. She’s holding back everything she feels because she’s afraid it’ll push you further away.”

Wooyoung’s eyes softened slightly, but the fire of his conviction remained. “You need to understand, Hongjoong. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about her too. You’re hurting her, and if you don’t start realizing that, it’ll be too late. She’s going to break, and I don’t think she’ll come back from it.”

Hongjoong felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. The thought of you shattering into pieces because of his cowardice was unbearable. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, to say that he was doing this for you, for the both of you. But deep down, he knew it was a lie. He was only trying to shield himself from the fear of loss, the same fear that had haunted him since that girl from his past had walked away.

“I can’t… I can’t lose anyone again, Woo,” Hongjoong finally admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “What if she sees me for who I really am? What if she realizes I’m not worth it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, frustration flashing across his features. “That’s where you’re wrong. She already sees you, and she loves you for all the parts you’re trying to hide. You think you’re protecting her by staying away, but you’re only pushing her further into despair.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced, a whirlwind of emotions colliding within him. “How do you know? How do you know she feels that way?”

“Because I’ve talked to Seonghwa, and he cares about her, Joong! He’s seen her cry over you. He told me she broke down one night, just sitting on the floor of her room, wondering why you were so distant. She kept saying she must’ve done something wrong. Do you want that for her? Do you want to be the reason she loses herself?”

The image of you curled up alone, tears streaming down your face while grappling with your worth, sliced through Hongjoong. The sheer guilt of it settled heavily in his chest, suffocating him. He had wanted to protect you, but in doing so, he had only hurt you more.

Hongjoong lingered in silence, the weight of his unspoken fears casting a shadow over the room. He could feel Wooyoung’s gaze on him, a

persistent pressure urging him to confront the thoughts he’d been too afraid to voice.

“What if…” The words caught in his throat, his voice strained with the vulnerability he couldn’t hide. “What if I take the next step, and she leaves? What if she ends up leaving just like—”

Wooyoung interrupted him by reaching forward, pressing his fingers gently but firmly to Hongjoong’s lips, shushing him with an authority that surprised them both. “I know what comes next, Hongjoong,” he murmured. “You don’t need to say it.”

Hongjoong stiffened, pulling back ever so slightly, a touch of annoyance flickering across his face. “You think it’s that simple?” he muttered, frustration bleeding into his voice. “You think it’s easy to just… forget?”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, though he held firm. “I think you’re holding onto something that’s long gone, Joong. And you’re letting it get in the way of something real.” He paused, leaning forward. “So what if the girl you loved back in middle school left you? You’re still letting her be the one who decides what happens now?”

Hongjoong’s mouth opened, then closed, his defenses crumbling under Wooyoung’s scrutiny. He could feel the words bubbling up, the excuses he’d used to justify his fears over and over, but this time, they didn’t come. The silence between them grew heavier, and he felt himself shrinking under Wooyoung’s eyes.

“It’s not about her,” Hongjoong finally managed, his voice a strained whisper. “It’s just… this was exactly how it started back then. The same moments, the same feelings, and then…” His voice broke, a haunted look creeping into his eyes as the memories clawed their way to the surface. “And then it all just fell apart the moment she left without a word.”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, his gaze filled with something close to sympathy, but there was no pity there, only an understanding forged through years of friendship. “Joong,” he said softly, leaning even closer as if he could bridge the distance that Hongjoong had placed between himself and everyone around him. “So what if some things feel familiar? They’re not the same person, are they? You’re not the same person, either.”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of anger sparking in his chest as he searched for a way to deflect, to deny the truth in Wooyoung’s words. “It’s… it’s not like that, Woo. You don’t get it.” His voice grew sharper, frustration edging his tone as he tried to hold onto the walls he’d built.

Wooyoung shook his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Really? Because it doesn’t look that way to me.”

Hongjoong looked away, his gaze hardening as he stared at the floor. “It’s not that simple, okay? You don’t know what it’s like to… to risk everything and then lose it.”

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hongjoong, I may not know exactly what you went through, but I do know one thing: you’re letting something from the past dictate your future. And that’s not fair. Not to you, and definitely not to her.”

Hongjoong’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as he felt the weight of Wooyoung’s words settle over him. Part of him wanted to argue, to cling to the fears that had kept him guarded for so long, but another part—a part he’d buried deep—knew that Wooyoung was right.

“What if I let myself try?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his words laden with the weight of years of doubt and self-preservation. “What if… what if I take that risk, and she ends up leaving?”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting a reassuring hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Joong, if she’s really the person you believe she is… then maybe it’s a risk worth taking. Because people leave, yeah. They walk away. But the ones who matter, the ones who are meant to stay—they won’t go anywhere.”

“You’re saying I should just… trust that?” His voice wavered, the question more for himself than for Wooyoung, as if he needed to convince himself that he could still believe in something other than his own fears.

Wooyoung’s mouth curved into a gentle, understanding smile. “Yeah. Trust it. Don’t let something that’s already gone keep you from what could be right here, right now.”

“What if I let her in? What if I let her see the real me? What if it’s not enough?”

“Then you fight for her,” Wooyoung replied. “You show her every day that she’s enough. You fight for her instead of running away. You have to be brave enough to take the risk, Joong. And if she does leave, at least you’ll know you tried. You can’t live in the shadow of your past forever.”

“But what if she sees me as weak?” Hongjoong countered, bitterness lacing his tone. “What if she thinks I’m broken?”

“Then you show her that even broken pieces can fit together to make something beautiful,” Wooyoung shot back. “You’ve built this wall around yourself, but you’re just hurting the one person who’s tried to break through. You need to trust her. You need to let her help you. She wants to be there for you, but you have to meet her halfway.”

The truth of those words echoed painfully in Hongjoong’s mind. He had been running, terrified of the vulnerability that came with love, terrified of the chance that he could be left once more. But he could feel the edges of that fear beginning to fray under the weight of his guilt, unraveling with every word Wooyoung spoke.

“You can’t let the past dictate your present, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer now, a mixture of empathy and frustration. “You can’t keep running away from what you feel. If you do, you’ll end up losing her, and it’ll be your fault.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced as he thought of you—how you had lit up his life in ways he never thought possible. How your laughter had become a soothing balm to his weary soul. He couldn’t keep ignoring the truth that was staring him in the face. The realization washed over him like a cold wave. “What am I supposed to do?” Hongjoong whispered.

“Fight for her, Joong. Show her that you’re not afraid. Be honest with her, and don’t let fear win this time.” Wooyoung leaned closer. “She deserves that much, at the very least. Fight for her—before it’s too late.”

“But what if it already is?”

🪞 — lividstar.

#౨ৎ﹒ノ﹒lividstar．#ateez fluff #ateez x reader #hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong x reader #ateez angst #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong ateez #jung wooyoung #park seonghwa

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j0kers-light · 2 months ago

Text

His Angel: Just a Feeling (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Just a Feeling

series summary:

Y/n is secretly a guardian angel with a home base in Gotham City. All of your previous assignments have passed on peacefully and you fail to take on another; much to your counsel's growing concern. You spend your days blending in with the citizens of Gotham until an unexpected encounter throws your entire existence upside down.

chapter summary:

Thrown into an unexpected assignment, Y/n copes with the realization that her charge is not who she initially signed up for. Driven by foreign emotions, Y/n must fulfill her duties or face the consequences.

author's note:

I need some more angel!reader in my life so here we are! Fun fact, Lumen by Jada is the song that Y/n hears when she realizes that Joker is her new assignment. I love how my brain works. 🤍✨

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Angel taglist! Be alerted with the story updates!

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

The tension in the bank was palpable and for once, you were a victim, caught up in the madness.

You expected the humans in the room to evaporate or combust into goo, but a quick self reflection confirmed that the fundamentals of your glamor remained intact. You wouldn’t need to summon Amenadiel after all. Which meant the crowd was more shocked by your random appearance than seeing an angel with their natural eye.

A shame that was the least of your concerns.

Pain. You hadn’t felt it in ages; however, the dulling ache was nothing compared to the warmth of this stranger’s touch. You could feel the heat seeping from his gloves permeating your skin. It made you feel... alive. Desired. Emboldened.

A deadly cocktail in your opinion and especially towards a human.

Despite your better judgement, your e/c eyes fell closed, and you leaned into his hold. Nothing was making any sense, but you relished in the brief moment of peace.

That is, until the strange man opened his mouth.

"Did it hurt?"

Three words was all it took to yank you back into reality— or perhaps it was the intriguing sight of his pupils dilating as they bore into your soul that helped steer you back.

What could he see? Did he learn your identity just by looking into your eyes?

You didn’t want to believe this mortal could detect your angelic prowess even with your glamor at its current low levels. Nothing about you screamed, ‘ I’m an angel.’ Were your eyes glowing by any chance?

Surely it was a coincidence and you feigned ignorance to avoid further suspicion. "What?" You gasped.

Joker hated repeating himself, yet he didn’t mind if it was for you. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite place.

To Joker, life was a meaningless thing that he navigated without a care of the conclusion, until an electric charge made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt an odd sensation— like he was being watched— and glanced across the room where he felt the pull.

There was nothing there but thin air, yet Joker swore he felt a presence, observing him. He guessed that today was the day he finally lost his mind or rather what was left of it.

It wasn’t like The Joker to become distracted during a fight and Batman was not going to let the rare opportunity go to waste. He delivered a crucial blow hoping to would take Joker out. It hardly phased the clown who laughed off the pain.

However, Joker did feel something; it was strangely familiar yet undeniably foreign that overwhelmed him all at once. He wasn’t imagining things. The best way to describe it was like a phone on ten percent being connected to a charger. There was no denying it now, something happened, he just didn’t know what.

A sharp gasp drew everyone’s attention away from the fight and Joker swore he saw an angel when he locked eyes with you.

Just how could Joker overlook someone like you?

You. Doubled over, wheezing in pain, but looking as radiant as ever. Ignore the fact you appeared literally out of nowhere, Joker had to know who you were. You captured his interest without even trying and kept it firmly within your grip. Life became a lot more meaningful now that you were in the picture.

Your fleeting gaze towards Batman stirred up jealousy in Joker’s heart so he dug his nails further into your jaw to steal your attention away. "I saiddd.. did it hurt... when you, ahh, fell from heaven?" He asked.

Oh. So you did hear him correctly.

Somehow this mortal saw through your glamor and deduced your existence. That would not do at all. You weighed the options available to handle this oversight. You could wipe this man out of existence, or you could deny deny deny.

It had been decades since you harmed a human and you didn’t want to go through the unnecessary paperwork and protocols that would follow if you did so. It was best practice to talk your way out of the situation.

Or take a page out of Ario’s textbook and charm your way out. “Are you implying I’m a fallen angel like Lucifer?” you batted your lashes and watched the man falter with a response.

“Well. I.. uhh—”

“Let her go Joker.” You frowned at your charge for butting his way into the conversation. You were beginning to dislike the bat more and more.

Batman had finally come to and wanted control back over the situation. How he managed to be taken seriously in that ridiculous suit was a miracle, but you had to thank him for his service. He put a name to this odd looking man who piqued your interest.

Joker.

You could see the irony in the name. His ghastly makeup reminded you of 15th century court jesters. Long ago, you were a guardian angel to one that served the infamous Tudor King. Both men were fools in name and practice.

The present-day clown holding you hostage had yet to prove if he was one as well.

Nothing about robbing a bank in the middle of the night seemed like a joke to you. To each their own you assumed. Humans were an unusual lot.

Batman and the Joker threw insults and witty comments back and forth and you wisely tuned out their conversation. They acted more like old friends than mortal enemies. Typical male behavior.

What drew your attention away was the red paint this Joker fellow wore. It accentuated the gruesome scars etched in his skin. You didn’t care if was rude, you had the urge to touch them. Your finger brushed against his scarred check, and you knew you messed up the moment Joker stopped talking.

Joker visibly shivered and directed all his attention on you.

Nothing else mattered inside the bank. Not the terrified civilians, not the gravelly voice of Batman demanding Joker to surrender, and definitely not the sound of approaching sirens.

All that mattered was the bubble you and Joker created. That nagging feeling from earlier returned tenfold the second your finger grazed his skin. He thought he was being electrocuted; it was so intense, and you were inclined to agree.

Just who were you? You must’ve been new to Gotham or simply dumb enough to chance death; no one dared to touch him, let alone his scars.

Joker couldn’t help but make an example out of you.

He grabbed your fingers in his strong grip and squeezed. All you did was blink owlishly at him. “Do ya like em? The scars?” Joker craned his neck so you could see them better. “C’mere, we can match.”

Everything else that followed, happened simultaneously.

You watched Joker raise his army knife up to your cheek right as a swarm of people entering the room caught your eye. The police had arrived guns in hand, and one of the officers had a clear shot of the Joker and pulled his trigger to fire, all without a second thought.

You knew for the humans involved it had only been a few seconds that passed, but you watched all of this unfold naturally.

You knew without intervention the bullet would hit you and The Joker. It would barely leave a scratch on you but the wound would be fatal for him.

Batman would be too slow to stop the trajectory with his feeble Batarang. You didn’t care what happened to the clown, that is until your duty hit you with full force. Your wings bristled with the need to expand.

Your charge was in danger. Protect! You had to protect!!

It didn’t make any sense. Ario informed you that the Batman was your potential charge. He was not in any danger— yet you felt the guardian connection (at last), lock into place. Just on the wrong person.

Impossible. Fate had never made a mistake, yet there was no denying it. You were now bound to this unpredictable clown.

You stared at The Joker in a newfound light as your vows to protect him transcended through the bond.

How were you supposed to protect this man’s life when he cared so little for it? In all your years, never have you met anyone like him. Even now with the guardian link complete, you couldn’t feel anything from his side. Joker did not fear death. He sensed the danger, but he did nothing to prevent it.

He was a walking contradiction to your purpose.

You were a guardian angel, a protector of life, now bound to a suicidal maniac.

You had a brief notion to do nothing and let him to die. That would serve a better example than coddling him. You doubted this human would be missed and you would be free to move onto avoiding your next assignment, but as quickly as that thought appeared in your mind, you banished it away.

You were The Great Y/n. You did not make mistakes. You could not fail another charge. This was your duty. This was your purpose.

Somehow, you would make the best of this situation, starting with preventing Joker’s demise. And just like that, time caught up with the present and you moved faster than the scale of lumen to protect your charge.

Batman heard the GCPD approaching and shouted at them to hold their fire, but it was too late. The civilian hostages screamed when they heard the gunshots ring out and chose to duck for cover. Bats quick fired a Batarang to try and stop the bullets or at least intercept it from its intended target, but it was an unnecessary effort.

The Joker was gone.

Jim Gordon and his police officers stopped in their tracks at the Houdini act. “What the...” Gordon said aloud.

Even Batman and his detective like mind could not understand what had happened.

Where Joker was previously standing, was a single black feather gently floating in the air where it vanished upon contact with the ground.

Joker had seen some bizarre things in his life however today proved to be the icing on the cake.

He could’ve sworn he was robbing Gotham City’s Regional Bank with a small group of his goons tonight. Everything was going smoothly until Batman just had to intervene but after that, things became too blurry to recall.

Joker thought he met someone, which sounded insane by itself, but he couldn’t get the image of a beautiful woman out of his head. She was stunning, albeit aloof in demeanor, and her eyes were truly unforgettable. He never seen e/c glow the way hers did.

Was it all a dream, he wasn’t so sure. It wouldn’t be the first time that his sick mind made something up to push the narrative. It would not be the last time either.

Joker groaned as he woke up further. He didn’t know where he was but that didn’t matter. As long as he was still in Gotham, he could work with that.

A glass of water was sitting on a nearby table and Joker downed the entire cup before throwing it against the wall. The sound of broken glass was a small reprieve to his troubled mind. He needed answers. He hated being in the dark.

Joker was prone to forgetting things—with a broken mind like his it was bound to happen, but he distinctly remembered robbing a bank one moment and the next he woke up in some stranger’s room.

He got up and looked around searching for clues as to how he got there.

The apartment was decent enough yet it was sparsely decorated, giving it an empty feeling. It didn’t feel like a home, just a place to occupy when the need arose. It provided nothing but more questions and quite frankly, Joker had enough of the guessing game.

He patted his pockets hoping that his burner phone was still on him. Thankfully it was and he wasted no time dialing a number by heart. It rang until someone answered.

Joker didn’t let the person speak. “Track my location and come with answers on how I got here.” He hung up after barking his orders into the phone.

He roamed the apartment looking for personal effects, mementoes, trash— anything that would give him insight on the person who owned the place but there was nothing .

For all intense purposes, the place could be a stage home for rent. Joker was getting a headache when his search was unsuccessful, so he found himself back in the bedroom—the only place that looked somewhat lived in.

He fell backwards on the disheveled bed and sighed up at the ceiling. Just what was going on? Nothing was making sense and why did it seem like he was missing something, or rather someone in his state of confusion.

You hadn’t worked this hard as a guardian since you were entrusted to a politician.

By the time you dumped an unconscious clown onto your bed, you had to double back to the active crime scene and distort the memories of all the humans involved. All eighty seven of them.

Each human had to have alternate memories of the night that excluded you being in the bank while erasing you saving Joker’s life. It wasn’t easy yet tis the duty of a guardian angel. The hardest mind to alter was Batman’s.

He was convinced of what he thought he saw.

He threw a Batarang towards his arch nemesis (was he holding a hostage?), who simply vanished into thin air. The police officer who fired his gun had the spotty memory of someone in Joker’s arms too, although he wasn’t quite sure. It didn’t sound believable, so he dismissed the idea early on without your influence.

He only remembered catching sight of The Joker upon entering the room and firing two shots. Neither bullet hit their target, and no impact holes were found.

The security cameras were disabled before Joker and his men broke in so that was a dead end for investigators.

Everyone had the same million-dollar question. How did The Joker escape?

Batman was convinced that Joker was holding someone but every time he strained his mind to describe them, a migraine thwarted his attempts. Something wasn’t right here. There were just too many pieces of the picture missing to make a definitive report. Batman had to know how Joker escaped so it couldn’t happen again.

You rolled your eyes and added an extra sedative to Batman’s mind to make sure it remained blocked towards any evidence of the truth. You couldn’t allow anyone to know that guardian angels existed.

People could believe all they want— having tangible proof of the divine was where things crossed the line.

It wasn’t your role to decide the logistics behind the rule. You would leave that burden to your more delegated angels. Your job as a guardian was done and you prepared to return to your charge when a searing pain in your shoulder made you falter.

You were still adjusting to feeling things again.

You tried pulling out whatever causing the pain but you quickly realized that whatever it was, it was lodged in your wings, right out of your reach. You would have to extend them to remove the foreign object.

Great. That meant a trip in the clouds.

You were already exhausted from cleaning up Joker’s escape act, but the pain just would not pass.

“What I’d do to not feel once more.” you muttered to yourself.

In a flash you were airborne, high above Gotham City and the Earth’s atmosphere, as far as the human mind could comprehend. It was far enough to safely spread your wings in all of their glory.

It had been too long since you flew around so freely. Living amongst humans really did a number on you. You adapted so well that some mannerisms became second nature.

You took the subway, you adopted a Gotham accent, you paid bills; never did you forget your origin. It was hard not to during times like this.

Up in the clouds with the moon as your spotlight, you could stretch out your angel wings and bask in the joy of flight. Blending in with the humans could never take away your divinity no matter how much you tried to denounce it.

The objects wedged itself out of your obsidian feathers and you twisted midair to catch them before they plummeted to the earth below.

“Humans and their primitive weapons.” Two bullets rolled around in your palm along with some kind of metal bat symbol. This must’ve been the infamous, Batarang.

Day one of your assignment and you already took a bullet for your charge and whatever this silly thing was. What would the rest of your servitude look like in comparison? You flicked the batarang in between your fingers, lost in thought.

You felt jilted about being assigned to Joker and not the Batman.

Nowhere on the assignment scroll hinted at a possible mix up and you hated being misinformed. Being the Joker’s guardian angel vastly changed things.

You had the mindset that Batman would hardly require your protection and you were already determined to have an easy job until his death but with the Joker, that would not be the case.

Already you were put to work, and it seemed it would be a busy assignment until death earned him. You weren’t frustrated at Joker—he would remain clueless about your role in his life. No, you were upset with Ario for deceiving you.

It wasn’t like him to get caught up in these types of scandals and you flipped on your back to gaze up in the direction of home.

The batarang pricked your thumb as you mulled over how upset you were. A ghost of a smile haunted your face once you reached a decision. You would pay Ario another visit. He would be delighted to see you again.

Ario was entertaining a few angels in a communal garden when something shiny came flying at his face. He batted it away with his hand, but the fact remained. Just who would dare attack him on holy grounds?

Ario soon received his answer when a dark shadow fell over the garden.

There was only a handful of angels with jet-black wings, and he knew yours better than most. He thought you would still be on Earth observing your potential new charge and his heart grew tight, thinking that something had gone amiss.

None of that mattered. You skipped pleasantries and slammed Ario’s face into a column, allowing spider cracks to form in the once pristine stone. Shocked gasps rang out as spectators looked on in horror.

“Did you think I wouldn’t unearth your misdeeds? My, I thought you smarter.” You hissed into his ear.

In Ario’s defense, he was caught off guard in more ways than one. For starters, your anger was a new concept for him. In all the years as your friend, you never let emotions control in such a way. “Whatever are you referring to, Y/n?”

You clued him in, “Hard of hearing and scatter minded. You are becoming ancient Ario. You sent me on a botched mission. Where you aware of the deception it entailed?”

“D-Deception? My dear Y/n I would—!” His words were cut off as you shoved his face further into the stone pillar. You did not want to hear him grovel.

Your e/c eyes cut to an angel who tried to interfere with your conversation. You raised an eyebrow at their defiance. Surely she knew you would win any fight she dared to pick. She came to that conclusion rather quickly and backed off.

These new angels were too pretentious for their own good. You turned your attention back to your friend who struggled to speak.

“I mean it, Y/n, I know not of which you speak!” He pleaded. You sighed and let him go. You were drawing quite the audience, and you never were one for large crowds.

Ario had the decency to brush off his clothes, acting as though he wasn’t fighting for his life moments prior. His milky white eyes glared at the throng of angels who were watching, and his flawless skin bloomed bright crimson.

He grabbed your hand and yanked you away from prying eyes. Once he found a corner with enough privacy, he let you hear his mind. “Thanks for making a fool of me.” Ario huffed.

Your eyes fell to Ario’s hold of you. You could feel again, but it lacked the intensity and warmth displayed like when the Joker did it. You let that odd observation fade away.

“You have no one to thank but yourself and don’t touch me, I am still wroth with you.”

“Why, what have I done?” Ario looked into your eyes, trying to find reason. “I am at a loss. You connected with the human bat did you not?”

He sensed a guardian bond coming off of you. What was botched then about your mission? Ario was glad that you accepted the assignment since he and the counsel began to worry.

It wasn’t normal for a guardian to go so long without a charge, and you were well past overdue.

This was cause for a celebration, yet you did not look happy. In fact, he saw a storm brewing deep within your striking e/c eyes. It was beautiful yet deadly to witness and it made him weary. “What really happened, Y/n?”

You rolled those deadly eyes of yours, “You truly are deaf. I followed your instruction and went to observe the mortal, only to be linked to another! How could that be, unless you sent me in vain, knowing the truth.”

You backed Ario into a wall and your wings blocked any means of escape. He knew when to cut his losses.

Ario held his hands up, surrendering. “I speaketh the truth. The counsel asked of me to pass along the assignment. I had no clue of any discrepancy.”

You heard the truth laced with Ario’s word and backed off.

He ruled himself out, but you still had to find the culprit behind this confusion. It would take some time and an audience with the counsel (something you did not look forward to) to solve.

And all of this after you swore to remain in the shadows and live out your days in relative peace. This Joker would be your undoing. You already had the feeling.

But back to the matter at hand. Ario’s charming aura was giving you a headache and he knew it given that a sly grin bloomed across his face. You hated when he did that.

“Old habits my friend. Forgive me.” He cooed. He was going to sweet talk you further, until he saw your eyes glow. “Surely, this human can’t be in danger again?” He asked.

Unfortunately so. You barely left him alone for a few hours and trouble had once again found him. You blinked out of your premonition and extended your wings to take flight.

You were shaking your head in annoyance all the way to the garden’s balcony. “I must go.” You sighed to yourself.

Spectators looked on as you climbed the edge and dove head first into the sea of clouds below.

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myherowritings · 4 years ago

Text

anywhere the wind blows

SUMMARY. After hunting a bounty near Wangshu Inn, you sensed the faint scent of qingxin blowing in the familiar wind. It seemed like it was leading you somewhere.

PAIRING. xiao x reader

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

GENRE. fluff, pre 1.3 release

A/N. my first genshin fic of my fav character xiao !! i’m definitely still getting used to writing for this world and for him but i hope this isn’t too bad 🥺 i’m so excited for xiao’s story and banner and can’t wait to learn more about him! if 1.3 comes and totally undermines the small guesses abt the lore i added into this fic then…we pretend we do not see u.u ANYWAY PLS ENJOY xx sof

“A rock shieldwall Mitachurl with a resistance to cryo,” you murmured to yourself with a satisfied smile, picking up the ominous mask and heavy horn that it dropped from the fight. “No more terrorizing Wangshu for you.”

You had just accepted a bounty handed out to you in Liyue and arranged for the proper party to come pick it up. The rewards were promptly transferred to your tab and you bade the team who came to collect the Mitachurl a swift goodbye.

It wasn’t normally on your daily agenda to hunt bounty for money—though the mora was quite appealing, you couldn’t lie—but when the beasts were too close to civilization and scared both residents and passerbyers in Liyue alike, you felt a greater need to step in. And now, after a job well done with some mora in your pockets, you realized just how tired and hungry that search made you.

Looking up, you saw the peak of the inn from a distance and followed the silk flower-covered path there. It wasn’t often you frequented Wangshu Inn, but you have visited enough to know their Jueyun Chili Chicken and Almond Tofu were pretty solid reasons to drop by again.

Your appearance was rather disheveled from your fight with the Mitachurl but you weren’t too messy-looking—certainly decent enough to interact with other humans you hoped. Smoothing down your clothes and practicing a smile, you headed over to the outdoor dining area and were greeted by a waitress who led you to an empty table as she asked for your order. The exchange was pleasant enough and you were soon left to your own devices once your food swiftly arrived.

It was dark out in Wangshu. The bounty hunt took most of your late afternoon and by now the sun had fully set. The dining area was quiet and empty with only the moon watching over you.

You hummed, taking in a mouthful of the sweet Almond Tofu. The night was nice and peaceful and quiet, just like most of your evenings.

A familiar breeze blew against your face, chilling yet warm. Captivating. There was a faint smell of qingxin, like the flowers you grew fond of during your explorations around Liyue’s stone forests.

The wind was different from what you experienced in Mondstadt. That air was light and playful. Free.

The wind you felt just now, on the other hand, seemed to convey something more wistful. Almost yearning.

And it wasn’t your first encounter with this qingxin-filled breeze either. When you helped comfort Little Luo back in Qingce Village and fended off the pesky Hilichurls on her trail, this wind blew around you and cooled the heat from your cheeks. Around Bubu Pharmacy when you spent time with Qiqi, a zombie you happened to stumble upon one day, you felt the same curious breeze.

Part of you felt like you were being watched over. But not in a bad way. It made you feel safe and protected, yet empowered enough to continue your bold expeditions and help the people of Liyue when you were needed.

The wind stuck around as you finished your meal, the aroma of Almond Tofu wafting through the air from the wandering breeze, almost as if it was seeking a taste. Once your plates were cleared and your drink emptied, you headed inside the inn and hoped they had a spare room on such a short notice and—to your surprise—for once they actually did.

On the way up the stairs, you passed by an open balcony near the top of the inn where you caught a glimpse of a lean figure with dark hair looking up at the night sky. You normally would have walked away from the balcony and left the man to his own devices, promptly going to your rented room to get some much needed rest, but the familiar scent of qingxin flowers dancing in the wind made you freeze mid-step.

Wangshu Inn wasn’t too far from mountain tops where qingxin grew… It could have been a mere coincidence.

But in Liyue, you knew that believing such things could be a coincidence would simply be fooling yourself.

The person on the balcony gave no indication that he felt your gaze, but you knew intuitively that he had already sensed your presence despite not having moved a single inch. His stance was so steady you might have thought he was a statue if not for his teal-tinged hair blowing in the wind.

Could he have been the cause of the qingxin breeze that recently started following you around?

“Hi,” you said gently to more formally announce your presence. On the off-chance he didn’t realize anyone was there, you definitely didn’t want to startle him. But judging by the unsurprised expression on his face as he slowly looked over his shoulder, you sincerely doubted he was one to startle easily. “May I stand here?”

His eyes were scrutinizing but not unkind as they looked you up and down. You took your time examining him as well— From the top of his silky-looking hair to the blue tattoos wrapping around his arms and to the mysterious horned mask hanging from his hip.

“I suppose you may,” he finally replied with a single nod, his voice neither welcoming nor rude.

You stood a few feet away from him, leaning against the wooden balustrades as you let the cool air hit your face. The night was quiet and calm, dimly lit by the moon peeking through the foggy sky. Sighing, your eyes fluttered shut in contentment as you felt the wind soothe the aches from the bounty hunt in your muscles.

You wouldn’t normally let your guard down like this in front of someone you just met, but for some reason you weren’t the least bit on edge. He didn’t seem like a stranger. And you had a feeling that maybe he wasn’t.

“Have we met before?” you found yourself wondering aloud. The mask on his hip looked familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, like you’ve seen it in a book you’ve read. And the air around him certainly felt familiar, though it seemed strange to describe why.

He didn’t respond.

Huffing, you tried a different approach. A more direct one. “Have you been following me?”

His brow raised but he uttered no words.

Was that approach too direct?

After a moment of silence, he said, “Were you not the one who followed me out onto the balcony? If I remember correctly, I was here first.”

“But were you not the one who drew me here with your qingxin-scented breeze?” you shot back, tone more curious than biting.

To your surprise, he said nothing to deny it. “Attentive, I see.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite that I’m attentive rather than you wanting me to know.” You hid a smile. He wouldn’t have made it so obvious otherwise, you were certain of it. For someone who held more power in his little finger than you could possibly fathom, you knew that him alerting you of his existence couldn’t be a mere accident.

“You’re right.” He shrugged. “But it’s not so much that I wanted to call you here than I didn’t mind if you happened to stumble by.”

You ran the palms of your hands over the railings, craning your neck to the side to face him. He was a puzzling creature, giving off the aura of something greater and more powerful than a human. The ominous mask dangling around his hip seemed to serve as a word of caution to indicate a menacing side he hadn’t shown you, but his calm stance and the small tilt of his head made him seem curious—almost inviting.

It was intriguing, to say the least.

“And why did you want me to, as you say, stumble by?” you said. “Not that I mind.”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, shaking his head and looking confused himself. “Intuition? I noticed you fighting, helping the people of Liyue. You’re doing a...good job.”

You shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck as you shied away from his praise. “So you summoned me here to thank me?”

“I don’t know,” he said again, his impassive tone sounding almost frustrated.

At the small frown playing on his lips, you couldn’t help but let a noise of laughter escape you. He gazed at you in question. This whole situation seemed strange and peculiar, straight out of a dream you’d have at random only to forget the next morning. He seemed strange and peculiar, like a figure out of a story book lost in the ruins of Liyue.

And yet you found yourself enjoying this odd encounter.

“Well, Mr. Stranger, since you seem uncertain of so many things still, are you going to continue to have your wind follow me around Liyue until you figure whatever it is out?” you questioned teasingly, not at all minding that prospect.

He glared, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s not that I was following you. I only sensed someone in need but happened to see you rushing along the way and decided to let you handle it. The less involvement in the affairs of mortals, the better.”

So he wasn’t a mortal himself, you thought, his words confirming your previous suspicions. Still…

“Is that so?” You quirked a brow. “And what is this if not for involvement in the affairs of a mortal?”

He folded his arms and didn’t say a word.

“Let me guess— You don’t know?”

“Hmph.”

You smiled. “Well, I guess it’s okay you don’t know. It’s okay not to know sometimes, you know?”

He blinked. “You aren’t making sense.”

“And you are?” you retaliated. “I still don’t know who you are or anything about you yet. But… I know you smell like qingxin flowers and feel like a cooling breeze. And I know that I rather enjoy it.”

The mysterious entity looked out into the mountain scenery, gloved hand resting on the dark balustrade. He seemed both lost in thought and completely aware of his physical surroundings at the same time. Suddenly, he spoke up.

“Xiao.”

Your gaze met his as he nodded once. “Xiao?”

“My name. Now you know who I am.”

You laughed, startled by how blunt he was. “I guess you’re right. Nice to meet you Xiao.”

“Hm.” Xiao waited one moment before he asked, “Do you plan to keep exploring Liyue?”

At his question, you briefly considered your options for the near future. You liked Liyue and there was so much you had left to see. Was it like home to you? No— Not yet anyway, though it could be if the situation was right. But that didn’t mean you wanted to leave just yet.

Not when you may have found a reason you would want to stay.

“For the time being, yes.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “That’s good. You being there to help the people of Liyue means less involvement with mortal affairs for me.”

Though his tone was haughty, he didn’t seem like he actually minded what he considered mortal affairs. If he did, why would he be so alert when he sensed people in need?

“And, if you ever need assistance during your ventures, I’ll be there.”

Xiao’s words comforted you as you looked at him, his hair blowing in the wind. Maybe one day you could reach out and touch it. But not today.

You sensed this meeting was about to end. The breeze picked up and you could feel him getting ready to leave. Whether he was going to leave to go to bed or leave the mortal world, you weren’t sure. But you would rather treasure this encounter than dwell on an inevitable—and hopefully temporary—farewell.

“Thank you, Xiao. And if you ever need assistance with...whatever it is you do, I’ll be there too!” you said confidently. “As I’m sure you’ve seen, I’m pretty handy at weilding a sword myself.” You doubted he would ever need much help in the physical or martial department. “Or, I could simply lend an ear as well.”

It happened so fast, you weren’t sure if it was actually there, or if your eyes were playing tricks on you— Xiao smiled. At least, you thought he did. But in the mere blink of an eye, it was gone.

Still, you don’t think you would ever forget that peaceful image no matter how hard you tried. Not that you wanted to.

Sensing the night coming to an end, you asked, “When will I be able to see you like this again?”

He paused. “In this human form, you mean?”

You nodded, though you figured the answer would be those three familiar words he had said many times tonight.

“I don’t know.”

A wry smile played on your lips. Knew it.

“The mortal realm is not where I naturally belong,” explained Xiao, amber eyes glowing brighter than the moon in the sky. “But I will meet you again in this state soon.”

The scent of qingxin grew stronger as the wind picked up. His skin grew paler, almost translucent as he met your gaze one last time for the night.

“Even if it takes time, at least the wind will tell me when you’re near.” You smiled, raising your hand in a wave. “Goodnight, Xiao.”

“Sleep well, traveller.”

And in your dreams that night, with qingxin in the air, you felt contentment and serenity in ways you never had before. You would see the entrancing being who called himself Xiao again. Soon. But you had the wind to keep you company while in wait.

#genshin impact #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #genshin imagines #xiao imagines #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin xiao

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letswritebangtan · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s Get Tattoos Together

pairing: tattooartist!Jungkook x female!reader

prompt: Jungkook dreamed of opening his own tattoo parlour with his hyung, Yoongi, and when he finally did, you show up on his doorstep asking for a job and he’s not happy to give it to you. Lord knows how you two end up having sex in his studio. :)

warnings: mature content! 18+ read at your own risk.

ask box: open

masterlist

_________________________________________________________

You know those moments where you expect too much and then feel more pissed than let down because damn they fucked up bad? That moment was now. Jungkook and Yoongi stared up at the neon signboard in utter disgust and shame just thinking about how someone could screw up this bad.

“It’s not even black.” Jungkook muttered in disbelief.

“It’s neon.” Yoongi confirmed.

“They didn’t even get the spelling right.” Jungkook continued.

Yoongi huffed “. . . What’s ‘BONKED’ supposed to read as?”

“Sounds like a strip club.”

“Yup.” Yoongi said popping the ‘p’.

“We can’t afford a new one, hyung.” Jungkook whined.

“You don’t think I know that?” Yoongi said gruffly.

He was beyond irritated at this moment. Both him and Jungkook had poured their entire life savings into opening this tattoo parlor and he was one hundred percent sure that absolutely no one was ever going to walk into a painful neon green store called BONKED to get a tattoo or to get anything for that matter.

“We’ll just have to make do.”

“I feel like I’m gonna barf.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Well your barf on this building won’t make it look any worse.”

The weeks went by and the boys worked hard to start up this little business of theirs. Jungkook spent hours walking around handing out flyers to people to let them know that what they were standing in front of was indeed a tattoo parlor and not some front for a shady business. Meanwhile, Yoongi sat indoors and worked on how he could at least make the inside of the store look decent. It was a tough few months for them but they kept going. A few customers popped in once in a while and it was mostly Yoongi who worked on them because between him and Jungkook, he was more experienced and they wanted to leave a good first impression on their customers.

Jungkook spent his after-hours in the store working on sketches and practicing on himself. He was running out of space on his right arm so it was time for him to start thinking of where to go next. Even though Yoongi was more experienced, Jungkook was incredibly talented in his field. His attention to detail and the focus he had when working on a piece was flawless. Jungkook didn’t tattoo often, but when he did, his work always turned out to be perfect.

A few months into the business was when things started to get a lot more rocky.

“Did you clear out the register yesterday?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah, they’re in the safe.”

“We need to start doing our accounts, Jungkook-ah. Let’s see if we have anything we can use to change this place up a little.”

Hours and hours into doing their accounts the two fell face-flat onto their desks.

“We have nothing. Zero.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Actually, it’s negative. We’re in a deficit.”

The two of them groaned and flipped through more receipts and bills in hopes of some good news but they couldn’t do it.

“I guess I’ll grab some dinner.” Jungkook said as he stood up and cleared the table.

“Make it quick, I’m starving.”

“Okay, grandpa.” Jungkook mocked and Yoongi sent him a glare, making the youngest snicker.

The bell chimed and their attention moved immediately to the door. They watched you in surprise as you entered the store around 5 minutes before closing time. Looking around, you got slightly startled when you saw two guys gawking at you, but you cleared your throat and stepped forward slightly.

“Uh hi, you guys aren’t closed yet are you?”

There was a small silence for a while. Jungkook couldn’t find it in himself to speak so Yoongi took over.

“We aren’t, but if you’re looking to get a job done you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you smiled nervously, “Actually I’m not here for any of that. I noticed that you guys are relatively new in the area and I was wondering if you needed any help around here?”

Yoongi looked confused, “As in, you’re looking for a job?”

You nodded.

Jungkook spoke up, “As a tattoo artist?” he said skeptically. His tone sounded offended and it struck you as quite rude.

You frowned at him, “No actually, not as a tattoo artist but as anything else.”

“Sorry, we don’t need anybody.” Jungkook dismissed you gruffly.

God, why was he being so rude?

“Really? I couldn’t help but notice that you guys aren’t doing too well here.” you spoke back.

Jungkook eyed you up and down. “Excuse me? What makes you say that? We’re doing great and business is booming. Isn’t that right, hyung?” he looked at the older man.

“Um, well it hasn’t-”

“See? Just fine.” Jungkook retorted.

“That’s a lie. I can tell if businesses are doing well or if they aren’t.” you crossed your arms smirking.

“Can you now? What makes you think ours isn’t?” Jungkook scoffed.

“Well for starters, I don’t see anybody in here-”

“We’re about to close.” Jungkook defended.

“I didn’t finish.” you said raising your eyebrows. “I don’t see anybody in here ever.”

Jungkook scowled, he was annoyed at the audacity of this random stranger to be entering his store and criticising his business.

“Secondly, no one around here knows what this store does. I spoke with the lady from the bakery across the street and she claimed that this was some kind of gay bar?”

Yoongi and Jungkook looked perplexed and their expressions had you holding in your laughter.

“It wasn’t until my friend came in the other day for a tat, that he told me this place was actually just another tattoo parlor.”

“Jesus Christ.” Yoongi huffed.

“Oh and also, the sign-”

“Don’t even.” Jungkook huffed and looked away.

You felt proud of yourself, but at the same time looking at these young, passionate boys’ faces you knew they must have put in a shit ton of effort to get this place up and running, and you had no right to just come in here and point out their flaws like that. What they needed was a solution.

“With all that being said,” you paused momentarily. “I can help you guys fix it.”

“I told you that we don’t need-”

“Jungkook, shut up for a moment will you? Go on.” Yoongi urged you.

“I majored in Accounts and Finance, I also have knowledge and experience on marketing, plus I’ve got a decent eye for things and that being said, that signboard has got to go.”

“Accounts? Wait, take a look at these.” Yoongi called you over to the table and Jungkook just watched in disbelief. The betrayal he felt from his hyung was unbelievable.

You stood over the table which looked like a mess, by the way. Papers strewn everywhere, random documents, some cash pile in the corner and a half-full mug of coffee.

“Sorry, it’s a little gross.” Yoongi apologised.

You chuckled, “It’s no big deal. Could I have a look at those receipts?”

The two guys watched you as you silently picked up different sheets of paper and scanned it thoroughly, mumbling numbers to yourself in the process. Well, these guys weren’t doing too bad but you knew they could do better. You glanced at the pile of cash at the corner of the desk and looked over to Yoongi.

“What’s that?”

“Hyung, she’s after our money.” Jungkook said quickly.

You glared at him and he shot you one back. Why was he out to get you? Despite his annoying traits, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was extremely good-looking. Well, the both of them were. But there was something about Jungkook that had you drooling in that small secret compartment of your head. He was well-built, his pecs pushing out through his t-shirt, his sleeves clinging to his biceps and his defined collarbones on full view. His hair was like a black mop, it looked soft and silky and it framed his face nicely. He had a really cute nose and the softest looking eyes but his expression was harsh towards you and you had no idea why.

“It’s what we owe. We’re running in a bit of a loss right now.” Yoongi said ignoring Jungkook.

“A loss?” you asked confused. “That shouldn’t be right, look.” you moved to sit next to Yoongi and showed him the contents on the paper. After explaining to him in detail you moved the pile of cash from the end of the table towards them.

“This is all yours, you guys. You’ve been looking at it wrong. This shop isn’t doing too bad, but it isn’t great either. If this keeps up, you’ll probably start making losses in the next 3 months or so. But you might not, if you’ll let me help.” you persuaded.

“And I’m not here to steal your money.” you said pointedly to Jungkook. “In fact, I won’t ask for anything for the first few months. When I’ve proven that I’ve improved this store and when you can afford it, you can pay me then. What do you guys say?”

Yoongi looked convinced, and he turned to the youngest to ask for his approval.

“Looks like we need her after all, Jungkook.”

Jungkook squinted his eyes at you and took a deep breath, letting out a loud huff. “Fine, so be it.” he said grumpily.

You beamed and thanked them, Yoongi even shook hands with you.

“Hold on, you didn’t even tell us your name.” Yoongi asked.

“Oh shit, right. I’m sorry that was rude of me, I’m y/n.” you apologised.

“I’m Min Yoongi, and this is Jeon Jungkook. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, so we’re pretty close. It’s been a dream of ours to open this place.” Yoongi said smiling softly.

“That’s amazing, you guys should be proud that you’ve gotten here.” you said genuinely.

Jungkook glanced at you then and you made eye contact with him. He awkwardly picked up his car keys and phone whilst looking away from you.

“I’ll go grab dinner before they close.” he spoke to Yoongi.

“Oh no, did I hold you guys back? I’m sorry, you should really have your dinner. I’ll leave now.” you stood up.

“That’s alright, oh and Jungkook will walk you to your car, won’t you Jungkook?” Yoongi asked smirking.

Jungkook looked startled and had that same look of betrayal on his face, this time there was a shade of pink.

“What? But she can- ugh fine.” Jungkook grumbled. “Hurry up.” he snapped at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’ll have to excuse him, don’t take it personally.” Yoongi said to you once Jungkook was outside.

“Well that’s gonna be tough.” you replied playfully. “See you tomorrow! Good night.” you said cheerily and followed Jungkook outside.

____________________________________________________

Your first week at the job went by pretty quickly. Yoongi showed you around so you’d get used to the place. He showed you to your working space which wasn’t the best but it was the best that he could afford. There was that desk you used when you first entered, and there were some cute little plants on the table. They even gave you new pens, pencils and a calculator. There was a desk fan attached to your table and its wires were heavily tangled everywhere but it was all they had. It was obvious that they did their best to welcome you, and you felt touched about it.

Most of your time was spent doing the accounts of course, and you were really efficient with them. It was a really relaxed work environment, sometimes Yoongi showed up with coffee or some snacks which you appreciated. Jungkook would ask to borrow a pencil from time to time, and as much as you were mad at him you couldn’t say no because they probably gave you everything they had to make a good first impression and the thought that they couldn’t afford to buy more pencils saddened you. During your breaks you’d lounge around and maybe check up on Jungkook to see what he was drawing. Whenever you’d ask him he’d always reply with an annoyed grunt or he’ll shoo you away.

One day, you really tried to find that goodness in your heart to do something nice for Jungkook so that maybe he wouldn’t be so pissy towards you, so you bought him a carton of banana milk and a pack of oreos. When you handed it to him, he looked at you so weirdly and you became so uncomfortable that you never wanted to be in situations with him like that ever again. So the acts of kindness stopped. There was also another thing you made yourself be in charge of: weekly meetings. Yoongi always told you that you didn’t have to make it so official since it was just the three of you working just like how three friends worked on a group project but you insisted.

“Do I really have to write all this down?” Jungkook complained.

“Aren’t you secretary?” you scolded.

“Well yeah, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you better do your job before I fire you.”

Jungkook gaped at you and turned to Yoongi. “Hyung are you hearing this?!”

“Don’t make her fire you, Jungkook.”

It was about 10 weeks later and you were close to hitting the target set for the store. It was important that you proved to them that you were good at your job and that you deserved a place here. You didn’t want to leave, because it was really nice working with them. You felt secure and they were like your friends, or at least Yoongi was. That night, you stayed after closing time to continue working on statements. Something just wasn’t working, and you had to figure out what. After hours of staring at the same numbers over and over again you felt like you needed a break. Just then, Jungkook entered the corner of your workspace.

“You’re still here?” he asked surprised.

You nodded, “Well I’m not finished so yes. I don’t think I’m leaving anytime soon.”

“Well don’t stay up too late.”

Surprised, you looked up at him so fast that you startled him slightly.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you laughed softly as you stretched your body in your chair.

He scoffed, “I only said that because I’m the one who has to close up after you so if you don’t leave neither can I.”

“Thanks for ruining the moment.”

“My pleasure.” he replied with a smug smile.

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from your chair and grabbed your phone and purse. “I’m going to get some coffee, want anything?” you asked.

“Coffee at 10 p.m.?” he asked while judging you.

“Well, I guess that’s a no.” you mumbled and headed to the door.

“Wait.” he called out. Turning around abruptly you didn’t expect him to be that close behind you that you ended up crashing into his chest. You stumbled but he caught you by your shoulders to steady you. He was looking right at you and this was physically the closest the two of you had ever been.

“Easy there, if you’re hurt Yoongi will literally rip me apart.” he mumbled.

Trying to ignore the redness in your cheeks you smiled awkwardly and stood upright as Jungkook let go of you. “I don’t blame him.” you shrugged and laughed when you saw Jungkook’s annoyed expression.

“Wait, I forgot why we ended up here. What was it you asked me?” you said.

“Right, I was uh- just you know thinking of maybe asking if you’d like me to drive you...to the coffee shop...” he said nervously.

“Wow.” was all that you replied, and Jungkook looked even more embarrassed.

“Forget it.” he said moving away.

“No! Sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-just, yeah. Drive me, I’d like you to drive me there, please?” you asked quickly.

Surprised by your sudden reaction he felt his heart relax a little when you didn’t reject his offer.

“Okay cool.” he said clearing his throat awkwardly.

It was really quiet in the car, and also really awkward. There was so much tension with that embarrassing encounter the two of you had just five minutes ago. You tried to take your mind off it, and your thoughts aimlessly wandered to how handsome Jungkook looked while he was driving. His hair covered his eyes a little, and you could see all the piercings on his left ear. That’s hot, you thought to yourself. His tattoos on his right arm were visible as he gripped the wheel with that hand and at this point you were shamelessly staring at him.

“Enjoying the view?”

You hummed, and then snapped out of your daydreaming only to see Jungkook chuckling at you.

“I mean, no! I was just- I was looking out the window and I wasn’t really looking anyway I was thinking and your biceps were distracting so I-wait! No no no, shit what’s wrong with me?” you freaked.

Jungkook only laughed even more at this and then turned to look at you.

“Does y/n have a crush?” he teased.

You looked at him with a deadpanned expression, “Are you seriously teasing me about a guy when that guy is you?”

“So you are crushing on me. Interesting...”

“Oh my god, shut up! I am absolutely not, in no way attracted to you.”

“Ouch.” he winced playfully.

“You heard me.” you grumbled as you turned to look the other way so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. You thanked god that it was dark and he couldn’t see you red all over.

He snickered and pulled up in front of the coffee shop.

“I’ll wait here, could you grab something for me too? Surely you’d do anything for me since you know, you like me and all...” he continued to tease.

You grabbed your phone and purse and stormed out of the car. “I ain’t getting shit for you, asshole!” you yelled as you walked away which had Jungkook dying of laughter since literally everyone around was staring at you.

Back at the store, you sipped on your coffee as you worked out more numbers. Jungkook sat on the beanbag across from you sketching by himself. Yoongi had already left a while ago so it was just the two of you.

As you were writing something down Jungkook spoke up.

“How’d you know that this was my usual?” he asked holding up the coffee cup.

You looked up from the paper and looked back down, pushing your work glasses up your nose. “One time, Yoongi accidentally handed me your drink instead of mine and when I took a sip it tasted like garbage so followed my intuition and I ordered the worst thing in there.” you said plainly.

“My drink is not garbage.” Jungkook retorted.

“Yes it is, it’s not even coffee. It’s all milk and sugar.”

“Well I’m a milk and sugar person, what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is your offending the real coffee-drinkers out there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with adding milk and sugar to your drinks.” Jungkook whined and you couldn’t help but to smile at him being effortlessly cute.

“Okay, whatever you say.”

But Jungkook wasn’t too happy with that response. “Say it like you mean it.” he ordered.

“Excuse me what?” you looked at him confused.

“Say that there’s nothing wrong with my drink.” he demanded.

You scoffed, “What are you, eight?”

“Well if you’re not gonna say it...” he shrugged.

You ignored him and went back to work. A few seconds later you nearly had a heart attack because Jungkook was pouring some of his coffee into yours.

“What the hell!” you yelled and tried to grab the cup from him and both your coffee’s ended up spilling all over the accounts sheets.

You just stood there in shock and disappointment as you stared at the soaking wet paper that could not be saved. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took in a sharp breath. “Jungkook.” you muttered lowly.

The poor boy was also in shock, knowing he fucked up badly and now he was going to have to pay for it.

“I- it was an accident I didn’t intend to-”

“Why are you such a brat?! You couldn’t just leave it could you?! I spend day after day rotting my ass off here trying to crunch these numbers and when I’m so close to finding something you had to shove your annoying ass into my work-do you know how much time has been wasted now that all these are gone and Yoongi is going to kill me if I don’t get this done in time even though it was your fault! And no, I will never admit that there’s anything fine with your drink, you or your stupid!-mmpfh”

It came to you as a shock when you realised you had a pair of lips pressed against yours. They were soft and they molded against yours perfectly making you weak in the knees. A hand cupped your face and brought you closer, your waist pressing against the table in front of you. Your hands rested below you on the desk as Jungkook kissed you, capturing your lips with his over and over again until you pulled away breathless. You couldn’t think with your mind in a haze. Jungkook looked at you in silence, waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was fall back to the chair behind you.

“y/n?” Jungkook said concernedly.

You cleared your throat and stood up quickly again. “I-I’ll get the mop and bucket.” you said softly before running out of there into the storage closet and shutting the door behind you.

You cursed yourself for reacting so stupidly. Jungkook must think that you hate him, but obviously you don’t. You really, really, like him, especially after having the feeling of his lips on yours - oh god, you fucked up. You remembered his scared and hurt expression when you scurried away like that. The worst part was that you had to go back out there. When you returned with the mop and bucket, Jungkook was gone, but so was the mess. He had cleaned up all by himself, wait, how long were you in there? You sighed and saw that he had left the store key for you to lock up, which means he had probably gone home. You had no idea how it had escalated to arguing about coffee, to this. But you knew that you’d rather be buried alive than to ever have to face Jungkook again.

_____________________________________________________

Yoongi had asked if you could pick up breakfast that morning since both him and Jungkook had an appointment and of course, you agreed. Business was picking up recently because let’s face it, you’re great at this job. Even though you lost those numbers since they got soaked in coffee, you managed to work your way around it and pulled up some income statements and cash book entries which clearly showed how well the store was profiting. You and Jungkook have not spoken since the incident and that was more than a week ago, and it was killing you. You wanted to talk to him and explain yourself but you were too scared. Plus he has been extra mean to you ever since, which made you not want to apologise even more. The only time he ever said something to you was when you were in the way and he practically snapped at you to move. That’s gotta hurt.

Most of the time you’ve been coming up with ways to avoid him, but today was not that day since you had to hand him his breakfast. You entered the main room where Yoongi was working and dropped his off. He thanked you and immediately went back to work. You were kinda disappointed, you had hoped Yoongi would give Jungkook’s breakfast to him but that was unrealistic so you guessed that now you would have to face a painful and awkward situation. After taking a deep breath you knocked on the door. You heard a muffled ‘come in’ and you stepped into the room. To say you felt awkward was an understatement. You wanted nothing more to crawl into a hole and die.

There was a female customer on the tattoo chair with the top half of her body completely bare and sitting in only her panties. Jungkook was leaned over her tattooing her breast and stopped to look at you. There was a warmth rising to your face as you just stood there and stared at them for a moment.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asked annoyed.

That snapped you out of your thoughts as you held up the bag shakily. “U-uh breakfast!” you might have said a little to loudly and then cursed yourself for it.

“I-I’ll just leave it here.” you mumbled quickly and put the bag of food down on the desk.

“Would you like anything?” you heard Jungkook ask the lady.

She giggled, “If you don’t mind sharing.”

Your face twinged in disgust, luckily you had your back facing them.

“Sure.” Jungkook replied shortly.

“Could you go a little higher, like over here?” you heard the lady ask and when you turned around to leave you saw her guiding Jungkook’s hand across her bare body and something inside you just made you feel so hurt and so shitty.

Jungkook’s eyes locked with yours. You immediately looked away and left the room. You couldn’t describe how you felt. This was Jungkook’s job, it was what he was passionate about, but you couldn’t stand to see people take advantage of that. He had just kissed you so passionately a week ago and of all days it was today that you had to bring him breakfast, and it was today that he had to have an appointment for a fucking breast tattoo. You groaned and muttered a string of curses as you walked back to your desk to eat your own breakfast. You chomped down on your egg McMuffin and got to work, hoping it would distract you from what you just saw.

An hour later Jungkook emerged from his room with the lady and readied her bill. The cash register was just opposite from where you sat so you watched them closely. Jungkook smiled and thanked the lady and obviously she enjoyed that attention but you were relieved when she finally left. Jungkook turned around to walk back into the room when he saw you watching him and his demeanor somersaulted upon looking at you.

“What?” he snapped coldly and you jumped in your seat a little.

You shook your head and looked back to the papers would were scribbling on, “N-Nothing.” you whispered.

He went back to his studio as Yoongi came out of his to get more plastic wrap.

“What’s up with you two?” he asked concerned.

“It’s complicated.” you huffed.

“I’ve never seen him that mad before.”

Hearing that was like having an arrow shot into your heart. You were right, he really did hate you.

“I-I..” you said with your voice breaking.

Yoongi looked alarmed, shit, what should someone do if a girl cries?

“It’s all my fault.” you sniffled as tiny droplets fell across your cheeks.

“Okay, no, nope. None of that. You are not crying, missy, you hear me? You are strong, and bold, and confident, and you aren’t crying over some stupid guy. Got that?”

You sniffled and wiped your tears away quickly and straightened up.

“That’s it. y/n you walked into this store on your first day like a boss and you criticised us left and right and you put this place into shape. You’re freaking superwoman, okay? You shouldn’t be crying.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s unprofessional.” you mumbled.

Yoongi sighed and sat down next to you. “Don’t be sorry. And we’re friends, there’s no need to be professional around me.”

“We are?” you asked smiling slightly through your watery eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Of course we are. And as your friend, I really suggest you talk to Jungkook.”

You shook your head, “But he’s scary.”

“Jungkook puts on a tough demeanor but he’s a kid at heart. He’d never do anything to harm you, you can count on that.”

You nodded and smiled softly at him, “Thanks, Yoongi.”

“What are friends for, hm?”

________________________________________________________

Now you had a task at hand. Talk to Jungkook. You just had to talk to him. No big deal, it’s just talking. To Jungkook. Fuck, you had to talk to Jungkook. Slamming your pen down you ran your fingers through your hair and whined. It was about time you grew a pair but it wasn’t that easy. Time flew as you sat at your desk and pondered about what to say and when to say it. It drove you crazy. Until one fine moment, all your courage rose from the pit of your stomach and you stood up determined to talk to the guy. Just as you maneuvered around your table to go to him the bell chimed. Hot damn, who was that?

This guy had a face sculpted by god himself. He was tall with brown hair, his wrists adorned with multiple strings and bracelets. His silver piercings shining under the store lights. The way he dressed really stood out to you, a beret on his head, sunglasses and patterned clothes, he really reminded you of a gucci model. He smiled at you as you walked over to him and you smiled back waving at him.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” you asked.

He removed his sunglasses and wow he looked even better.

“Oh no, I don’t. I’m actually here for the job? My name’s Kim Taehyung, I saw the sign outside.”

You had convinced Yoongi and Jungkook to finally place a “We are hiring” sign on the window because they could now afford it, plus, it would attract more attention.

“Oh I see! So you’re a tattoo artist?” you asked interested.

“Well, I’m hoping to be.” he said making the two of you giggle.

“Well are you good?” you inquired.

“Hmm, I would say I have a few things up my sleeve.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Well let’s hope you impress us.”

“I hope that I shall.”

The two of you laughed together again, man you really liked this guy.

“What’s going on here?” you heard a deep voice. Jungkook appeared from his room and scowled at the two of you laughing together.

“Oh, t-this is is Kim Taehyung, he’s here for the job.”

Taehyung reached out to shake Jungkook’s hand but he left him hanging.

“Another case of y/n, hm? That’s not too good.”

You gaped at him and you were about to retort when Yoongi joined in.

“Ah, you must be Taehyung.” Yoongi said smiling.

Taehyung finally felt comfortable seeing a familiar face. “Yes, and you must be Yoongi hyung. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine. A friend of mine knew Taehyung in art school and he recommended him to me. Let’s see if you’re as good as Seokjin claims you are.” Yoongi said.

Taehyung laughed, “I promise to do my best.”

So that led to the current situation. The three of you huddled around Taehyung watching him work on a piece. He had gotten one of his friends to demonstrate the piece for him who’s name you learned was Jung Hoseok who was also pretty cute. You were questioning the odds of you being surrounded by attractive men all at one time wondering if the universe had something planned for you. But you ignored it to watch Taehyung working. One thing you’ve noticed since working here is that every tattoo artist has their own unique style. They were all different, yet all so incredible. Taehyung had the same amount of focus and concentration Jungkook always had when he was working. Yoongi was always more relaxed, his talent flowing from him naturally. However, Taehyung could perfect designs neither Yoongi or Jungkook had ever done before.

The buzzing stopped and Taehyung stepped back to review his work. Everyone was in awe, he did a really great job and Yoongi loved it so much that he asked Taehyung if he could post it on their shop’s Instagram.

“That depends,” Taehyung said, “Are you going to hire me?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Need I say any more? y/n, what do you think?”

You smiled, “I think he’s great.”

“What do you know about tattoos?” Jungkook snapped.

You looked at him angrily and he ignored your stare.

“For a tattoo artist it’s surprising you don’t have any tattoos.” Jungkook questioned.

Taehyung frowned, “Do I need to have them?”

Jungkook looked slightly dumbfounded with everyone staring at him. “No-I mean, it’s just surprising-”

“Yeah it is.” Taehyung ended the conversation abruptly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and looked away.

“It’ll be great if you could start today. We have a customer coming in anytime now.” Yoongi said.

“But he’s scheduled for me.” Jungkook spoke up unhappy.

“You can take the 3 o’ clock, Jungkook.” Yoongi dismissed.

Jungkook licked his lips, obviously irritated by Yoongi’s decision.

“I never got your name?” Taehyung turned to ask you.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you smiled.

“It’s great to meet you. I have a feeling we’ll be getting along pretty well.” Taehyung grinned.

You blushed slightly because how could you not when this insanely attractive man was outright flirting with you.

“Your 3 o’ clock is here, get to work.” Jungkook snapped at him.

“Right, I’m on it.” Taehyung cleared his throat.

_____________________________________________________

Taehyung blended in pretty well. He was no doubt good at his job, a lot of customers end up super happy with what they get and so Taehyung was really good for the store. The two of you also got along great, he was like your new best friend. He would come over and talk to you between breaks and he’d send you a lot of memes which kept you happy and entertained throughout the day. One time he brought a pack of cards to work and once you guys were done for the day you played Snap while eating dinner, which was a terrible idea because Taehyung kept hitting your hand real hard and one time he spilled his entire bowl of soup and himself and started to yell because it was hot and man did you laugh until you couldn’t breathe. Obviously, Yoongi and Jungkook were there to witness all this because you guys always spent meal times together. Yoongi would usually ignore the two of you and go on his phone, and you’d call him a grandpa for not wanting to play card games. Jungkook was reserved, also on his phone but he would glance over to the two of you from time to time.

It was another night at the shop and it was nearly opening time so you were at your desk drafting statements and also counting the money from yesterday’s earnings. Jungkook was on his beanbag sipping some banana milk and sketching on his notepad as usual and Taehyung was next to you helping you separate the bills.

“I’m really curious as to how you got a job here.” he asked you.

You scoffed, “Why, can’t a woman get a job in a tattoo parlor? Just because it’s a sausage fest in here, I can’t be a part of it because I don’t have my own sausage?”

Taehyung laughed heartily and you smiled, giggling to yourself.

“You know what I mean.” he urged.

“I just came in one day and asked. At first they said no, and then I made them a deal they couldn’t refuse.”

“Why would they say no? You’re great at what you do.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Tae. But the shop wasn’t like this back then, they couldn’t afford me.”

“Hmm, but you did so well at university. You could have had many other options, why here?”

“Well, I saw two guys desperately trying to make their dreams come true and you know, I just wanted to help them.” you said smiling softly. You remembered all the fond memories you hard building up this place with them. They were priceless.

Jungkook could hear everything the two of you were saying, he felt a pang in his heart when he heard how all you wanted to do was help them, and he had been nothing but mean and rude to you from the very beginning.

“That and, well, I needed to start earning something. My parents have gotten pretty old. Mum is really sick and dad spends all his time taking care of her. Before that, they used to own that bakery across the street.”

“Wait, you mean Rosie’s bakery? Like...the pretty fucking amazing one?”

You laughed, “I guess you can say that.”

“I used to go there when I was a kid, it’s been around for so long. It’s such a shame it got closed down. I’m really sorry about your mother too, by the way,” he said sympathetically.

“No that’s okay. She’s still around, I thank the heavens that I get to see her for just one more day. They wanted me to take over, but I could never do all that by myself.”

“Why not? I’m sure you could.”

You shook your head, “I never want to let them down, you know? That bakery was like their baby, I didn’t want to step in and ruin it. Some things just eventually come to an end.”

“I understand.” he nodded, “But you’re here now though, things worked out, right? Look at how lucky you got, you now have a Taehyung in your life!”

You grabbed a book and smacked him across the shoulder with it and he yelped, but laughed along with you after. The bells chimed and the first customer came in, Taehyung left to work on them so it was just you and Jungkook in the room. As you picked up your pen to work again a voice made you halt.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him in shock and confusion. Why was he talking to you all of a sudden?

“What?” you asked confused.

He sighed and put his sketchbook down and walked over to you. He sat on the chair next to you and all you could do was watch him.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you since day one. There’s really no excuse for that, I’m really sorry.” he said looking at you.

“Jungkook...” you trailed off.

“Yoongi and I worked really hard to get here, like really, really hard. There were days we never got to eat, nor did we have a roof over our heads. Despite all that we always had each other, and we had each other’s backs. When we finally opened our shop, I was beyond excited. Even with that shitty sign outside that we got rid of, this shop was still a great achievement. When you showed up, I just...felt threatened? It was stupid, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just felt like someone might screw this up for us or that all of this might go away and that was so terrifying for me. I realise now that you genuinely wanted to help us even though I was an asshole, and I just owe you the biggest thanks ever y/n because you played a huge part in making my dream come true. Instead of thanking you and showing you my appreciation all I did was yell at you and piss you off and I just, god, I hate myself for it. I’m really sorry. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and so does Yoongi. We owe it all to you.”

For the past month Jungkook never said more than two words to you, but now he was giving you a whole ass speech? Man, here comes the waterworks.

“Shit, y/n, are you-oh god please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I’ll stop I just,” you inhaled, “I can’t stop.” you sobbed.

Jungkook pulled you to his chest and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. He murmured reassuring words, telling you that it was okay while he rubbed your back softly. You pulled away embarrassed and tried to hide your face as you wiped off tears messily and sniffled. God, you must look so horrible right now.

“Sorry I-” you sniffled, “I’m fine now. I’m fine.” you heaved.

“You sure?” he asked.

You nodded and smiled at him, making him smile back.

“I uh-” you started, “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for making you feel insecure, and no it’s not stupid, your feelings are absolutely valid, Jungkook. I just had no idea I made you feel that way, it must have been bad for you, I’m so sorry. And I forgive you, thank you for saying all that but, it’s not me who made all this happen. It’s you, and Yoongi. The both of you are so talented, I’ve seen how you work too. Jungkook you’re incredible, okay? Like, yeah I don’t know anything about tattoos but I know a pretty thing when I see it and your work just blows me away and you should be so proud of that. That’s what brought you here, not me.” you said.

Jungkook nodded and looked at you fondly, “Thank you for saying that.”

“And uh...when you walked in that day-”

“It’s fine.” you cut him off feeling embarrassed and not wanting to talk about it.

“No y/n, it didn’t mean anything, okay? I saw how hurt you looked and I felt really bad.”

You shook your head, “Jungkook you have nothing to feel bad about. It’s your job, I was wrong to be upset anyway.”

“You don’t have to be jealous.” he chuckled.

You groaned, “She was blatantly flirting with you!”

“And I ignored her. Plus, I didn’t share my food with her.”

“You didn’t?” you asked hopefully.

“No, I didn’t.” he chuckled, making you grin.

You bit your lip and nodded back at him. “And, you know, what happened that day...”

His eyes widened and he took your hands in his, “I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that, I made you feel uncomfortable and I still hate myself for doing that to you until this day...” he said apologetically.

“No it’s fine, I shouldn’t have ran off like that, it was so stupid of me.” you shook your head.

“I thought I scared you.” he said with so much guilt in his tone.

“Jungkook,” you whispered. You laced your hands with his firmly, “You didn’t. Not at all, I was just surprised and I didn’t know how to react. I must have hurt you, I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I really like you and...yeah.” you said shyly.

Jungkook had a small smile on his lips, “You do?”

“Mhm.” you said looking away.

That smile turned into a smirk, “So I was right, y/n did have a crush.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “It’s gonna fade if you keep at it.”

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. I like you a lot too, y/n.” he said looking right into your eyes. His confidence was admirable.

“You could have been nicer you know? You wouldn’t stop sending me daggers through your stares and I even got you banana milk so you’d warm up to me but that was just weird, so then I didn’t know what to-mmpmh.”

And there it was again. Those soft lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your hands moved to his hair to bring him closer as he pressed his lips against yours, occasionally pulling away only to dive back in again. His hands moved to your waist and pulled you on top of him. You finally felt all that muscle on him through his shirt, he really was as ripped as you imagined him to be. He poked his tongue softly past your lips and you let him in.

“Always...wanna...kiss you.” he said in between kisses.

You sighed and let out small noises of pleasure, grasping on his locks.

“So pretty.” he mumbled as he pulled away and moved to your neck, planting wet kisses there.

You moaned when he bit down on the flesh of your neck, which made him sigh heavily.

“You sound exactly like I pictured you would. So needy.” he growled.

“Jungkook.” you said breathlessly.

“Hmm?” he hummed as he continued to mark you.

“W-we really shouldn’t-ah-be doing this here.” you squeaked.

Just then his lips met your sweet spot and you could help but let that loud moan ripple through you, catching Jungkook by surprise.

“Fuck, you even sound pretty.” He continued to abuse the skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue until he finally pulled away to look at you.

Your face was flushed, eyes hazy and lips swollen. Jungkook tucked your hair behind your ears and rested his forehead on yours. He placed another soft kiss on your lips, making you smile. Your hands remained around his neck and you fidgeted for a bit before asking him.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I said that we shouldn’t be doing this here.” you said biting your lip.

He looked taken back at your sudden boldness and smirked at you.

“Are you saying you want me to have you over my chair in my studio?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

_______________________________________________________

“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung asked with his lips pressed together.

“Yeah?”

“Are they-”

“Yeah.”

_______________________________________________________

Business was picking up yet again, and to celebrate the anniversary of the shop’s opening, Yoongi decided to throw a small party at his and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Taehyung promised to get the alcohol and dragged Jungkook with him. Yoongi was spending the day cleaning the apartment and grumbling about how Jungkook is gross and never keeps the place clean. Yoongi was also inviting his other friends Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. They apparently graduated art school together and were some of his best buds. Jungkook knew them too, and he had introduced you to all of them. You were pretty close to Seokjin since he just has an incredibly friendly nature and he’s always cracking lame jokes which you can’t help but find funny. So it was your job to get the food for the party and Seokjin was told to go with you.

“y/n there’s soju!” he called loudly in the supermarket where literally everyone can hear him.

“I told you, Taehyung’s in charge of the booze, he probably already got some!”

“But he doesn’t know the good kind, like I do! Pleaseee, look there’s like 8 different flavours.”

“Seokjin.” you huffed.

“Okay fine, but if this party’s lame I blame you.”

“Why am I even friends with you, dork.” you grumbled.

Seokjin helped you reach the foods on the higher shelves and you were grateful for that. He also paid, another reason you became extra nice to him. It was already late in the evening and you guys had to get back and get ready for the party. You lugged the huge bags of snacks through the corridors, these guys really did eat a lot. Seokjin rang the bell and after a while Jungkook answered the door.

“You guys eat like pigs.” Seokjin huffed as he carried the huge bags of food.

“Hyung’s the one who goes through all the chips!” Jungkook retorted.

“Do you hear how he speaks to me?” Seokjin complained to Namjoon.

You giggled at them and moved to enter when Jungkook blocked your way.

“Nu-uh.” he said smirking.

“Move your fat ass out of the way, these are heavy.” you huffed.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, kiss first.” he demanded puckering his lips.

“Gross, who would wanna kiss you?” you said fake disgusted.

“y/n!” he cried like a child.

You laughed and dropped the bags on the floor and stood on your tippy-toes to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and wrapped an arm around your torso keeping you pressed against him. You pulled away and nuzzled your nose against his.

“Can I come in now?”

He caught your lips with his again and bit on your bottom lip. You moaned softly making him inhale sharply.

“Guys, can you not do it at the damn doorstep?!” you heard Seokjin yell.

Jungkook and you laughed and he moved to carry the bags in being the strong man that he is. Later that night all of you huddled in front of the TV with blankets and more snacks. Most of them were passed out due to the high consumption of alcohol. You and Jungkook were still awake, and he was playing with the hem of your shirt while placing soft kisses on your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“You smell good.” he mumbled, pressing more kisses on your neck.

You only smiled and let him continue.

“Wonder if you taste good too.” he said casually.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you smacked his arm softly.

“You would already know that.” you played along.

“Hm, yeah I do.” he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

He turned your head to face him by cupping your cheek.

“y/n” he murmured against your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Wanna taste you.” was all he said before his lips touched yours again and your mind went into a frenzy.

I’m just gonna say that the guys were lucky to have been knocked out that night. There were some pretty scandalous things happening in Jungkook’s bedroom.

_______________________________________________________

the end! wow this took me the entire day to write but it was totally worth it. who else is whipped for kook? :”)

also stream dynamite! love u guys <3

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wordsablaze · 4 years ago

Text

13~ masked by my pride

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: sorry it’s been a month but guess which dorks tried to borrow the braincell from scorpion ??

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @havenoffandoms @lasaga666 @mayastormborn @alllthequeenshorses

previous chapter

“You’re Jaskier the bard, aren’t you?” someone asks as soon as they get to Piana.

Jaskier doesn’t miss a beat before he nods, smiling politely. “That would be me, yes, lucky for you. Who’s asking?”

Eskel moves to go stable Scorpion but even as the stranger starts talking, Jaskier squeezes and tugs on Eskel’s hand just enough to stop him from going anywhere. He could easily pull out of the bard’s hold but he finds that he doesn’t want to so he just waits, biting back his smile lest he scares the stranger off.

There is no logical reason - or any other kind of reason, for that matter - as to why he’s become addicted to the feel of the bard’s fingers interlaced with his own and yet, he’s already resigned himself to that fate. And he’s not complaining.

“-nd should I report back a confirmation?” the man asks.

“Of course, it would be rude of me to refuse such a gracious offer,” Jaskier replies smoothly, and Eskel wishes he hadn’t zoned out of the conversation.

It’s not until they’re seated in the corner of a tavern that Jaskier relaxes, leaning into Eskel’s shoulder and slumping in his seat.

“Is something wrong?” Eskel asks, now trying to hold himself as still as possible so he doesn’t jostle Jaskier; he’s used to blending into the background but this feels different, like something precious.

“Of course not,” Jaskier replies immediately and, much to Eskel’s dismay, straightens up and pulls himself to his feet.

Eskel definitely does not sound at all forlorn as he asks, “Where are you going?”

Jaskier cocks his head to the right and holds his lute up with a small smirk. “We’re in a tavern, darling, and I’m a bard. The situation speaks for itself, I think.”

He’s bounding towards the man who looks like he’s in charge before Eskel can point out that he should probably take care of his own stomach before everyone else’s ears, but he’s not sure if that’s specifically a Jaskier thing or a general bard thing so he lets it go for the moment.

Obviously, he regrets it when Jaskier starts singing about Eskel heroically saving the continent from sirens, but he thinks even that’s growing on him already. And either way, watching Jaskier move through a room is a rewarding experience in itself, not that he’s incapable of taking his eyes off the bard, what an absurd situation that would be.

“Sing the other one! With the other witcher!”

Jaskier pauses, having just finished a song about pirates or something, and his eyes flicker to Eskel before he nods, launching into toss a coin with an easy smile. Eskel tries not to dwell on wanting to punch the man who’d requested the song - it has benefited them all, after all - and instead wonders how long it’ll take for Lambert to complain he’s being left out.

The second time Jaskier leans into Eskel’s shoulder is almost equally as precious. “How long before you need to set off again?” he asks as he tucks his lute back into its case.

Eskel frowns, pushing one of the two drinks that’d been set down on their table towards him. “We’ve been travelling all day, Jaskier.”

Jaskier nods but doesn’t move, clearing his throat after taking several large gulps and wincing. “You said you had somewhere to be.”

“There’s no hurry,” Eskel says, and he’s not even lying just to be polite; his path is generally north towards the keep but there’s still far too much time before winter sets in to be hurrying. Besides, he has little motivation for cold treks when he can feel Jaskier’s warm breath brushing against him.

“Well, in that case: fish.”

It takes Eskel a moment to realise that’s not some sort of cursing and instead a reference to food, which Jaskier immediately goes to find, leaving Eskel clutching a lute. It’s quite frankly just ridiculous how many times Jaskier gets away with slipping off somewhere in such a short space of time.

“Smells nice,” Eskel says honestly as Jaskier returns with two plates.

The bard smirks at him. “What, me or the fish?”

That takes Eskel a second to recover from. He shrugs. “Good point, could be either.”

Jaskier elbows him in faux offence as he settles yet again, but neither of them say anything more until their plates are empty. Not even two seconds pass before Jaskier yawns so hard that his eyes water.

Eskel laughs quietly. “We should head to the inn.”

“Oh but that would require moving,” Jaskier complains.

It was probably meant to be a humorous comment but Eskel can’t help frowning, wondering why Jaskier hadn’t asked for another break or something during their journey if he’d been getting so tired, not to mention why he’d decided performing was a good idea if he was ready to fall asleep.

“Stop that or I’ll actually write a ballad about the frowning witcher’s adventures,” Jaskier grumbles, poking his arm.

Eskel’s frown fades naturally as he smiles. “I thought you said the metaphors would be too hard?”

At that, Jaskier sits up and squints at him for a moment. “So you were listening after all, then. Is that a challenge, darling?”

“Maybe when your eyes aren’t drooping,” Eskel suggests, very much hoping Jaskier forgets about the whole conversation by tomorrow.

“My eyes are not drooping!” Jaskier argues, but the fact that he’s slumped against Eskel again doesn’t seem to do him any favours.

Eskel hums. “As you say, bardling.”

Jaskier pulls himself upright to prove his point, his hands on his hips as he raises an eyebrow. “See?”

Grabbing Jaskier’s lute as he stands, Eskel nods. “I see. Shall we head to the inn then?”

Jaskier’s mouth drops open as he glances between their now empty seats and Eskel. “You- Did you just- Did you just trick me into…?”

Eskel snorts, neither denying nor confirming the accusation. Thankfully, the inn isn’t far and they manage to get there with no problems, though that’s possibly because their hands are linked so even if Jaskier had started to wobble, nothing major could have happened anyway.

“We humbly request one of your fine rooms, if you will!” Jaskier beams at the innkeeper, a woman who looks a little sceptical at first but quickly softens as she looks over them properly.

“Just the one?” She asks.

Jaskier nods emphatically. “Just the one! No need to wear out the bedrolls, right?” he asks, more for Eskel’s benefit than the innkeeper’s, really.

“Right... Up the stairs, third door on the right,” the innkeeper says, handing him the key and nodding at Eskel with a hint of a smile, to which he nods back gratefully.

Jaskier pulls him along and yawns loudly as they find their room, finally letting go of his hand and flopping back onto the bed with his arms spread out. He’s only managed another quieter yawn by the time Eskel gets himself out of his armour and somehow, that’s equally as sad as it is endearing.

“Jaskier, you need to take your boots off at least,” Eskel whispers, trying his best not to laugh.

Jaskier looks up at him as if he’s just declared that lutes are outlawed. “Are you sure?”

Praying that he doesn’t take it the wrong way, Eskel sighs and goes to tug Jaskier’s boots off himself. He tenses up initially but when he realises what’s happening, he just laughs and awkwardly shrugs his doublet off to contribute.

“If you wanted to take my clothes off, you could’ve just asked,” he drawls, but then promptly yawns again.

“Unfortunately, I don’t speak yawn,” Eskel replies, and this time he does laugh, nudging Jaskier so they can both settle properly.

Jaskier vaguely kicks at him in response - assaulting only the air, of course - before Eskel feels arms around him. It takes a moment to relax his muscles and by the time he’s comfortable with the idea of Jaskier once again acting as a very strange but far from unpleasant blanket of sorts, said bard has already drifted off. Surprisingly, he finds himself doing the same.

“Eskel?”

He jolts awake immediately, his grip instinctively tightening on his weapon. Except it’s not a weapon he’s holding, it’s someone’s waist. Jaskier gasps sharply and Eskel all but flings himself out of the bed, leaning heavily on the closest wall as he clenches his fists and breathes slowly.

“Alright so perhaps waking you up with your name isn’t such a good idea,” Jaskier says eventually.

“I’m usually a light sleeper,” Eskel replies, beyond relieved that Jaskier seems to be amused rather than scared - he’s not sure what he’d do if Jaskier were to be scared of him.

Jaskier nods. “Right. Except you weren’t just then. Well, no matter, but if I don’t get to the privy in the next two minutes, we definitely will have a matter.”

Eskel doesn’t realise he’s kind of laughing until their room door swings shut. And even though Jaskier had taken absolutely no offence, he can’t help but feel embarrassed. So much so that he makes sure to slip out of their room just as Jaskier returns, freshening up before heading to the stables instead of opting for breakfast.

“Hey, girl,” he mumbles to Scorpion, who all but huffs impatiently when she finds his hands to be empty. “Sorry, I was in a rush,” he adds.

He opens his mouth to explain but she seems to be having none of it, stomping on his feet hard enough for it to hurt. He’s only just able to sidestep to avoid her doing the same thing twice, cursing under his breath. “You don’t need to break my toes to stop us from leaving,” he mutters angrily.

“You were leaving?”

Oh no.

Eskel turns on the spot even as the air fills with smoke and ash. Not literally of course, but it may as well be with how horribly strong the scent of distress is.

“Jaskier, I was just-” Eskel starts.

Jaskier shakes his head, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want to- Could you just answer the question? Please? Were you leaving?”

“No,” Eskel replies immediately. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that. And nor would Scorpion, it seems.”

Warm, fresh bread dilutes the smoky distress in the air and Eskel sighs with relief; apparently Jaskier believes him.

“Is everything okay?” Jaskier asks eventually, as if the answer to that doesn’t depend on his own emotions rather than whatever Eskel is thinking.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Eskel says honestly, “I just needed a minute.”

Jaskier nods. “I can give you a whole day, actually. How does meeting back at the inn tonight sound? Yes? Great, see you then!”

For all the good that enhanced senses do, Eskel wishes they came with enhanced processing because he’s getting tired of being too slow to register the bard’s words before it’s almost too late. Almost.

“Jaskier, wait!”

He’s not fast enough to stop Jaskier leaving the stables but thankfully the bard doesn’t disappear down some alley this time and he manages to end up in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. When Jaskier doesn’t say anything, biting his lip, Eskel sighs. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but it’s probably wrong. I simply… felt bad.”

“For what?” Jaskier asks softly, frowning.

Eskel clears his throat. “For this morning.”

Jaskier’s frown deepens. “What happened this morning? Did you break something or-” he gasps, “-did you hurt my lute?”

Eskel shakes his head, thoroughly confused. “Of course not! I- Why would I do that?”

With a shrug, Jaskier pinches the bridge of his nose. “What are you all guilty about then? We’ve not even been awake for an hour yet, what else could you possibly have done?”

“When you woke me up, I- I thought I might’ve hurt you?”

Jaskier blinks. And blinks again. He opens his mouth to say something only to close it again, then laughs. “Seriously? Oh, darling, that was nothing! It felt like getting hugged by an over-enthusiastic child, far from painful and definitely not something to fret your handsome self over!”

Eskel sighs, inwardly cursing himself for somehow having acted strangely enough to be compared to an over-enthusiastic child, and in an attempt to stop himself from genuinely attempting to flee, focuses back on something else that had bothered him.

“What did you mean by being able to give me a day?” he asks.

Jaskier offers him a sheepish smile. “That man yesterday? Well, I may have promised the Alderman I’d play for him again and then uh, forgotten? Turns out he didn’t forget and he’s ever so nicely offering to overlook the fact that it’s been several years if I perform today. Nothing important but it happens to be someone or the other’s name day and I usually attend those alone so…”

Oh. Of course very few people would want a witcher at their name day and even if they did, they wouldn’t want him; it’s not like scaring the children is ever part of the event.

“Well, I would hate to interfere,” he says after a pause.

Jaskier frowns again, seemingly considering something but only nodding in response. “Yes, there’s really no need. I’ll be done with it all by dinner and if you wouldn’t mind staying another night, we can set off tomorrow?”

Eskel smiles. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Marvellous! Until then, my dear witcher!” Jaskier smiles brightly and this time, does slip past him, fleetingly squeezing his hand as he goes.

Never has he had such a bewildering conversation before breakfast. He thinks he can maybe understand why Geralt had initially seemed averse to travelling with a bard but no, he still cannot comprehend how all the warmth and kindness wouldn’t be seen as worth any amount of confusion.

He appears to have been blindsided by said warmth and kindness though, because it takes him a stupidly long time to remember that he’s capable of spending the day doing something other than just waiting for Jaskier. Capable and very much required to, in fact.

It seems he’s spending his day with the local drowner then.

i'm beginning to suspect this fic is merely a myriad of clichés hiding in a trenchcoat but we're too far in to question it,,, my utmost appreciation to anyone who's somehow still sticking around <333

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

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fairynavi · 4 years ago

Text

stronger than you | strong! fem! reader hcs

you are a 2nd year manager of karasuno and here are hcs on how noya, tanaka, and ennoshita react to you being physically stronger than you seem

☆ nishinoya yuu

you, along with yachi, were introduced by kiyoko as new managers for the club. you've been in the club for quite some time now and you're well acquainted with everyone now

especiall noya since the both of you are in the same year (and he's very excited about how they have a manager who's in the same year as him)

noya is just an energetic and spontaneous ball

he'll go to your classroom and shout your name so you could go to the clubroom together

you would find it very endearing if it weren't for the knowing looks your friends would give you whenever noya came by

OKAY SO

you joined in your 2nd year after leaving the martial arts club

why'd you leave? you weren't too keen on the suffocating competitive atmosphere in the club

the club president wasn't very good in keeping everyone organised

the club was overall just a mess and you didn't want to get involved in any more problems

while everyone's cleaning up, hinata and kageyama snuck to the court a bit a do extra spiking drills

you heard them bickering but you didn't actually expect they'd do anymore drills

but at this point, you weren't surprised anymore

this time, hinata went a bit all out and the ball came flying towards an unsuspecting noya who was drinking what's left of his water bottle

fortunately, you were nearby

you immediately drop whatever you were holding (which were brooms) and immediately go in front of noya, fixing your stance (like how you would during a hand to hand spar)

you use your arm and hover it steadily in front of your face where the ball was going towards

you successfully stop the ball, which you grab from the floor

you're unaware of the stares from the other people in the gym

"hinata! kageyama! be careful! you could have hurt someone!" you lecture the first years, to which they immediately apologize for (after they've completely processed what you just did)

you turn around and look at noya, who's just looking at you in awe

"noya-san? you okay there?" you wave your hand in front of him, where he finally responds by blinking

he finally processes everything, he's confused, he's blushing, he's staring at you in awe because a girl saved him?? a v v pretty girl saved him from a ball that could've hit his head??

he's just shocked, my dood

for the first time, he's at a loss for words

"earth to noya-san?"

he finally speaks

"[y/n]-san... that... that was so aWESOME! you're... i guess you were stronger than i had initially thought, y'know? thanks for saving my head there! you're so cool, [y/n]-san!"

you're blushing now too

sure, you've been called cool by other people, but it seems that when noya says it, it just feels so different

"thank you, noya-san..."

the next few days, he'll just bother you about where you got so strong and when he learns that you know martial arts, he just WANTS you to teach him some self-defense

he was already attracted to you when you joined the club as a manager

now he learns that you're actually physically stronger than you seem??

bro, he's infatuated

wait no, scratch that

he's head over heels for you

expect a lot of compliments from him

also expect a lot of, "[y/n], do you think you can carry me?"

"for the last time, noya, i am NOT carrying you"

☆ tanaka ryuunosuke

you already knew tanaka, during your 1st year, even before joining the karasuno volleyball club because of ennoshita

but you've only met with him once or twice on the rare occasions where you'd do a group project with ennoshita

you joined the volleyball club in your 2nd year as a manager for the boy's team when the club that you were previously in had disbanded due to lack of members

to everyone's surprise, tanaka recognizes you the moment you enter the gym

you quickly become well acquainted with everyone

it's been like 3 months since you've joined the club and you're comfortable with walking home with everyone

especially with tanaka since coincidentally, you live in the same neighborhood as him

this one particular day, tanaka says he'd forgotten his textbook in coach ukai's shop while you were already walking home with him

you guys weren't that far from his shop but you were already tired enough to go back with him

you let him go and retrieve his textbook, assuring that you'll be fine on your own

he runs back to the shop and you lean onto a pole nearby, waiting patiently for him

that's when two creepy men approach you and begin small talk, getting into your personal space too many times

they crossed the line when one of them tried to lift up your skirt, the other one pinning you onto the wall

before they could do anything else, you immediately go under his arm and out while it was still a bit loose and you immediately strike your hand on his nape, earning a pained groan from the man

the other one hesitated to attack you but he did, trying to punch you, but you immediately dodge, making him stumble and fall

using whatever strength you had left, with your adrenaline helping, you lift the other and drop him onto his companion, earning groans from the two of them

the moment tanaka comes back, he's immediately in front of you, in a very defensive stance, barking at the strangers

he doesn't look at you as he grabs your arms, pulling you close to him as you continue walking home

finally, he looks at you and notices the state that you are in

your blazer's unbuttoned, the blouse underneath lost the top button, your clothes are creased and your hair is just everywhere

you're sweating, still not recovering from the adrenaline rush from earlier

lowkey you look attractive rn

"[y/n]! are you okay?! are you hurt?! the hell happened back there?! did those guys try to touch you?!"

"tanaka, chill, i'm fine. just some random dudes trying to get touchy with me. nothing i can't handle"

he's relieved that you're okay and he makes sure you get home safely (ohoho what a gentleman) and once he gets everything in his head, he's in love

i mean, who wouldn't be attracted to a girl who just DESTROYED two men trying to touch her

the next day when you greet him, he's all blushy and scared because you might beat his ass if you felt like it

he later learns that you were taught self-defense at an early age and continued training up until now

tanaka will stare at you whenever you're talking with someone, hoping you wouldn't notice, but boy's just too obvious about his infatuation

the whole team probably knows his crush on you without him confirming it

☆ ennoshita chikara

you joined the volleyball club shortly after transferring to karasuno in your 2nd year

you're classmates with ennoshita, so you were relieved that you knew someone in the team

you quickly became friends with everyone on the team a few days later due to them being very friendly and kiyoko never leaving you confused during practice

once you're comfortable enough with them, you've shown your very playful side

leading you, along with noya and tanaka, to get some lectures from ennoshita

you were never one to actually do dumb things, but you always encouraged them to do the dumb thing

"im not a bad influence i swear" turns into "lmao yea, you should totally give that snake a pat"

even though you seem playful, you're still very reliable when the situation calls for it

you stopped a good amount of class fights and bickering to avoid it elevating to a physical fight

you've also stopped hinata and kageyama's bickering a few times

of course, ennoshita's noticed this and has developed an admiration to you

he didn't notice the thin line between admiration and infatuation

he finds himself staring at you a lot during practice now, always denying that he had a crush on you and just convinced himself that "i just respect her a lot"

it's currently the last day of the tokyo summer training camp, and you're helping out unloading a few more stuff that they bought

you're carrying two fairly heavy coolers, both of which are filled with refreshments

ennoshita sees you and sprints up to you, offering to help

"oh, there's no need ennoshita-kun, go ahead and eat, you should enjoy yourself"

there it is, that very sweet consideration that sends ennoshita's heart flying

"don't worry [y/n], i want to help you"

you smile and take up his offer, giving him one of the coolers

he almost droos the cooler from how heavy it was

he initially thought it wasn't at all heavy since you didn't at all look like you were having a hard time, he underestimated the weight of the cooler

you look at him in worry but then you burst into a fit of laughter, earning some attention your way

ennoshita was embarrassed as he tried to tell you to stop laughing at him

"sorry ennoshita-kun, but that was the reason i didn't want you to carry it, come on, give that back to me"

he stares at you for a bit, still not over the shock of learning how strong you actually are

you wave your hand in front of his face and he comes back to reality

"no, no, i can carry this, your shoulders might get sore, [y/n]"

AWWWW HE'S CONCERNEDD

while the both of you walk, you tell him about how you underwent some intense (somewhat unnecessary) training during middle school as you were part of the track & field club

once you deemed that the training was far too much and your body couldn't take it anymore so you quit when you went into high school

the reason you transferred was because your mom landed a job as a teacher for karasuno high

he's in awe about... just about everything about you

it's honestly not hard for him to fall for you at this point

he'll listen to you the rest of the day, wanting to get to know you more and more

when someone goes to help you carry something particularly heavy, he anticipates for their reaction over you being stronger than they are

he just loves you at this point, really

i hope i depicted them properly TwT

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #strong fem! reader #haikyuu headcannons #hq headcannons #ennoshita chikara #nishinoya yuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #ennoshita chikara x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke x reader #haikyuu imagines

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction| They see you on a date after you break up

A dash of angst with a fluffy ending for all.

Namjoon

You and Namjoon had broken up a month ago. Your heart didn’t ache any less. In fact it seemed to grow worse the longer you were apart from him. You missed him terribly. However your friend was tired of seeing you in such a slump so what did they do? Arrange a date for you to help you get over him. You knew it wasn’t going to work, but decided to humor them anyway. You felt bad for the guy so you let him know right off the bat what your intentions were with this date. He completely understood and the fact that he was so nice made you feel bad.

“I’m sorry. You’re a really great guy and all and I feel like if this were under different circumstances I would really like you. But you’re just not...”

“Namjoon?” He finishes for you. You nod, completely unaware that he was actually standing close to your table waiting to be seated and had heard every word. “I understand. From what you’ve told me he sounds like a really good guy. I can’t compete with him. You talk about him like he hangs the moon in the sky every night.” He hears you chuckle at that.

“Well, he definitely was the moon that lit up my darkness that’s for sure. Now that’s he’s gone though I worry it’s going consume me.” Namjoon’s heart breaks a little more when he hears that. He can’t listen to anymore so he walks over to your table.

“N-Namjoon?!”

“Uh, hey y/n. Can we talk maybe?” Your date stands up and offers you a smile.

“Hey man, I’ve heard a lot about you. Y/n is a nice person so make things right with them alright?” He places a hand on his shoulder and walks off. Namjoon slides into the booth next to you. He’s absolutely taken with how beautiful you look and he loses his train of thought.

“What did you want to talk about?” He snaps out of his daze.

“I uh, kind of overheard what you were saying. I’m sorry please don’t be mad at me for eavesdropping. I couldn’t help it when I heard my name mentioned.”

“So.. what then?”

“I was wondering if maybe you would consider giving me another chance? Just as I’m the moon to you, you’re my sun. My days have been dark and dreary without you in my life and it sucks it took us breaking up for me to realize that. But I really care about you y/n. I love you.. maybe a little too much. Can we just start over?”

“I don’t want to start over.” Namjoon’s heart sinks. He moves to slide out of the booth but you place your hand on his cheek to guide his face back towards you. “I don’t want to start over because I’d rather just pick up where we left off.” Namjoon smiles as you both lean in to press your lips to one another, both of you finally feeling a happiness you thought was gone forever.

Jin

“Yah, who’s this guy y/n is out on a date with?!” Jin had been walking into the frozen yogurt store to pick up something for the younger members after practice with Yoongi.

“Don’t know… never seen him before. But y/n is allowed to date other people. You broke up with them, remember?”

“Yeah but it was for their own good! The company found out we were together and they would have forced us to break up anyway so I cut it off before it hurt even worse later down the line.”

“Jin you don’t know that. There is no dating ban in our contracts. Y/n really loved you, you know? You were together for a long time. Breaking things off so abruptly with the shitty excuse you gave probably really hurt them you know?”

“Who’s side are you on Min Yoongi?”

“I’m on the side of not being a damn idiot and going and getting the love of your life back.” Yoongi shoves Jin towards you at the last word and he quite literally bumps into your table. You startle and drop your cup of frozen yogurt on the ground.

“Oh silly, clumsy me! I am so sorry random stranger. How about if I buy you a new one?” He grabs your arm and tugs you up with him, leaving your date rather confused.

“Jin, what are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Y/n please just let me explain.”

“No. Now let me get back to my date.”

“Y/n please.. just a few moments. Enough time for you to make your order and that’s all I’m asking for. You eye him suspiciously but nod. “The company found out we were dating and I thought they were going to make us break up anyway so I ended things before they could get too serious and it hurt worse.” You turn around, anger flashing on your features.

“Before it got too serious? Wow. Okay. I guess you really didn’t feel the same way about me as I did about you. Good to know. Bye Jin.” You go to leave but suddenly Yoongi is blocking your way.

“Jin is really shit with words he didn’t mean it like that. Please just hear him out? I’m tired of hearing this guy whining about how much he misses you and how much he loves you and didn’t want to let you go.” Yoongi walks away and you look over at Jin now.

“Is that true?”

“It is.. I really regret leaving. I don’t know why I freaked out so much. When have I ever done what the company told me to do anyway? I think I just got really afraid of losing you. If the company found out then that means other people can too. What if you can’t handle the spotlight and having your privacy invaded? What if the fans send you hate messages and it gets to be too much? Having our relationship known is a scary thing for me too and I panicked and acted stupidly and impulsively. If you’d be willing to give me another chance, I would make sure you never regret it.” You can’t deny his sincerity, and you definitely have really missed him too.

“Okay. I’ll give you another chance. But we really need to sit down and talk about what making our relationship public is going to mean for the both of us and when we both feel we are ready. And you have to buy my yogurt.” Jin laughs at that.

“Okay. It’s a deal.”

Yoongi

Yoongi knows you two broke up, but he didn’t think it would take less than a week for you to get over him. It makes him feel like you didn’t even care about him at all if you are already out on a date with someone else. Jimin and Hoseok see the hurt flash across his face when he walks into the cafe and sees you laughing and smiling with another guy.

“Yoongi maybe we should go…” Jimin tugs on his shirt sleeve but Yoongi wrenches his hand away.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get our coffee and go.” You laugh loudly and it sounds genuine, like you’re really happy. And that hurts Yoongi more than anything. He storms out of the cafe and you hear the door slam. Your gaze shoots up and you see the back of his head as he rounds the corner and walks towards the alley next to the cafe. Jimin and Hoseok are standing there looking back and forth between one another and the door. You stand up and walk towards them.

“Jimin? Hoseok? What are you guys doing here? Was that Yoongi?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jimin nudges Hoseok hard in the side. “I- I mean no! Of course that wasn’t him. Why would it be Yoongi?”

“Oh really? I could have sworn that was his blonde hair I saw go running out of here. Guess you won’t care if I go after whoever that was then huh? They seemed pretty upset.”

“Just go back to your date y/n. Seeing you is just going to hurt him even worse.” Jimin says.

“Wait what? What date?”

“Oh come on y/n you’ve been smiling at that guy and being all flirty since we got here.”

“Wh-… He’s my coworker and he has a fiance! We were just here getting coffee for the other workers.. please don’t tell me Yoongi actually thought I was out on a date.” Jimin and Hoseok share a look that lets you know your suspicious were confirmed. “Oh gosh..” You throw open the door to the cafe and head towards where you saw him heading. You see Yoongi sat on the ground, knees tucked up to his chest. He notices you out of the corner of his eye.

“Y/n please just go.”

“No. Not until you let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. You’re out on a date. Clearly you’ve moved on and I’ve just been sulking alone regretting everything by myself.” You move to sit in front of him and cup his face in your hands.

“I’m not on a date. That was my coworker. Do you really think I’d get over you in less than a week?!”

“But you were-“

“He has a fiance. Not to mention I love you. I would never be on a date with someone else, especially not so soon you big goof.” You flick his forehead and Yoongi can’t help the smile that forms on his face.

“I’m sorry for getting mad.”

“It’s okay. I would have been the same if the situation was reversed.” You sigh and sit next to him, letting your shoulders brush up against each other. Yoongi has never been a man of many words, he shows he cares and what he wants through his actions. So when he lays his hand palm up on your lap, you don’t hesitate to take it and lace your fingers together.

Hoseok

“Isn’t that y/n?” Namjoon points ahead and sure enough, there you are. Walking down the street heading towards them walking with another guy. Judging by the way you are laughing and smiling you must be on a date. His suspicious are confirmed when the guy leans in to kiss you, however you quickly turn your head to the side so the kiss is placed on your cheek instead. The guy seems disgruntled and immediately Hoseok sees red flags all around this guy. He sees him grab your wrist and tighten it, causing you to flinch and you stop in the middle of the sidewalk, trying to wrench your grip away from him. Hoseok doesn’t need to see any more to know something needs to be done. He walks over to you, loudly calling your name.

“Y/n! Long time no see! How have you been sunshine?” The look of relief that washes over your features makes Hoseok feel a sense of pride that you still feel safe in his presence.

“Oh! Hey Hobi it’s so good to see you!” The guy lets go of you and you walk quickly over to Hoseok, stepping in closer to him.

“Who’s this? Your friend?”

“I’m y/n’s date. Who are you?”

“Ah, just an old friend in town. Listen I know you’re on a date but I haven’t seen you in forever and I miss you. Can we hang out for a little bit?”

“Sure! Um, I’m sorry but can we reschedule for another time?”

“Fine.” The guy walks away and you let out a breath and visibly relax.

“Oh my god Hoseok thank you so much. He had been super touchy with me the entire time and you know I hate confrontation so I didn’t say anything..”

“I know, I remember. Are you okay?” He grabs your hand without thinking twice about it to inspect your wrist, there is a mark there from where he gripped you and Hoseok has half a mind to go back and find that guy and beat some sense into him. “Please don’t ever go see that guy again.”

“I won’t. I promise. I’ve had such lousy luck since we.. you know.”

“Ah. Yeah I get it. I haven’t really had time to date anyone but I’m sure none of them would come close to you anyway.” Hoseok’s eyes widen, not meaning for that last part to slip out. Your gaze softens.

“Why did we even break up in the first place?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember at all.” You both are looking at each other now, lost in one another when Namjoon loudly clears his throat.

“Uh, listen I’m no relationship expert here but... if you both still clearly have feelings for one another why don’t you start over?”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Y/n?”

“Sure. I would really like that.”

Jimin

Jimin was getting more and more annoyed as he eavesdropped on your date. He didn’t want to. It just so happened you decided to go on your date at the same place he went out with Jin for dinner. This guy was a total tool. He only wanted to talk about himself, and the things he was talking about that he liked were things you hated. Even though he wasn’t facing you he could picture you rolling your eyes in his head and sighing heavily, getting a little attitude like you did when you were annoyed. He giggles to himself and then slaps a hand over his mouth, afraid you had heard him. Jin shakes his head, letting Jimin know it was fine and you hadn’t heard him.

“Well this date is going great do you think we could go on a second one?” Jimin hears you scoff and he holds back his laughter as does Jin.

“Um.. no I’m sorry I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Why not babe? We had great chemistry.” Babe? You hated that pet name, He thinks to himself.

“No babe we don’t. All you wanted to do is talk about yourself and we have nothing in common okay? Jim- I mean uh, you know what never mind. Can you just go please?”

“Whatever. I’m not paying for this date then you can foot the bill yourself.” Jimin hears the sound of your date’s chair scraping across the floor and sighs in relief that he’s gone. Him and Jin share a look.

“Was y/n about to say your name?”

“I think so..”

Why don’t we see if y/n wants to sit over here. Or you can go over there Jimin. Don’t let this go so easily. Okay?” Jimin nods and gets up, walking towards your table. He sits in front of you but you don’t look up.

“This seat taken?”

“Fuck off will you I don’t need another-.... Jimin?!”

“Hey, jagi.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but immediately smile back. “Your date was a real ass you know that? Where the hell did you find him?”

“My coworker set me up, told me he was a great guy and he would help me get over you. Clearly that wasn’t the case because the entire time I was with him I just kept wishing it was you.” Jimin blushes slightly at your confession.

“So since this date went to shit can I take you on a proper one? Maybe we can go out for dessert somewhere? That bakery you like up the street?” You smile at that.

“I would really like that, Jimin.”

Taehyung

It had been a few months since Taehyung had seen you. He had been walking around the city taking photos when he spotted you outside of a cafe, leaning against the building. You were just as beautiful as ever and it broke his heart all over again. He debates walking over and approaching you. Until he sees you smile at someone and a guy approaches you. He moves in to hug you and kisses your cheek. And you let him. The way you smile at him reminds him of the way you used to look at him, and his heart completely shatters. He can’t help the sob that escapes him and clearly you had heard him because your gaze snaps over to him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Taehyung?” The sounds of your voice saying his name is too much. A few more tears escape and he turns on his heels and quickly walks away from you. “Taehyung wait!” You turn to your date. “I’m sorry can we postpone this? I need to do something.” Your date calls after you both but at the moment you don’t care. Right now Taehyung is upset, and that takes priority over everything. You both had decided to end things mutually. He was getting too busy with his career and he felt he wouldn’t be able to focus on that with a relationship. It hurt both of you terribly, but you both knew it was for the best.

You go running after him calling his name and he finally turns down a side street and stops.

“Y/n go back to your date don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He can barely get the words out, he is most definitely not fine. You approach him slowly, and let your hand rest gently on his back, rubbing your hand over it to soothe him. He visibly relaxes but then his shoulders start shaking again.

“Can I hug you?” He nods and you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. His hand trails down and laces with yours. You both stand there for a few moments, relishing in the other’s touch.

“I miss this so much. I was stupid we never should have broken up. I’m absolutely miserable without you.” Taehyung turns around in your arms. You reach your hands up and wipe his tears away.

“I miss you too. So fucking much. It still hurts.”

“Can we try again? Please just give me one more chance y/n, I won’t mess up.”

“I don’t know Tae.. your situation still hasn’t changed any. If anything you have become even more famous since we broke up.”

“I know that. But I’ll make time for you, for us. Just please. If we don’t give this another chance it’s just going to break my heart all over again.” You stare at him for a few moments and take in the sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay. We’ll try again.” Suddenly you’re pulled into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you y/n.. Thank you so much. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Jungkook

His heart sinks when he sees you laughing and talking to another guy. He just came to the restaurant to pick up his food and the last thing he wanted was to see you out on a date with someone else. He runs past your table hoping you don’t see him. He’s waiting to pick up his food and can’t help but overhear your conversation.

“So it sounds like both of our friends set us up on dates so we could get over our exes.” He hears you say.

“Yeah seems that way. I don’t think either of us are ready though are we?”

“I don’t think so. I really miss him a lot.” Your voice cracks but you don’t let the tears fall.

“I completely understand. I really miss my ex too. We were perfect for each other and I still don’t understand where we went wrong.”

“Ah see I know where we went wrong. I got too jealous he was spending more time with his career than me and I ruined everything.” Jungkook can’t take anymore. He turns around and walks over the table. Your eyes widen in shock.

“J-Jungkook?”

“You didn’t ruin everything y/n. I only broke up with you because I was hoping you would find someone that could give you the perfect relationship you deserve. You were miserable at home by yourself all the time and it was because of me. I couldn’t stand that.”

“I didn’t want a perfect relationship I just wanted you. I understood about your job and everything. Was I sad? Absolutely. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t willing to work at it. I loved you.”

“Loved?” Jungkook’s hearts sinks.

“Yes. And I still do.” He feels himself filled with hope at your words.

“Do you think.. can we um..”

“You want to try again?” Jungkook smiles.

“I would love that.”

465 notes · View notes

herohotline · 5 years ago

Text

Broken Record (Shouto x You)

A/N: wow i wish i had a Shouto standing up for me everytime some dude tries to stalk me

Prompt: A creep won’t stop trying to hit on you, so you take a random stranger and call them your boyfriend so that the creep would leave you alone.

Today started out alright, and then it took a dumpster dive. You had just gotten off work, the sunset just beginning to make the clouds a brilliant pink when some sleaze decided to target you. He was tall, broad, and persistent- someone you definitely couldn’t fight off alone if you needed to. The anxiety from him following you around made you sweat, and you were becoming desperate. How many times does someone have to say ‘no’ and ‘go away’ until they … go away?

“Listen, sir,” you quicken your pace to try and deter him but he mimics you without a problem. You sigh. “While I’m… flattered… that you’re interested in me, I can’t go out with you!”

“Why not?” Ugh, it’s like talking with a child. “Give me one good reason.”

“I really don’t want to.”

“I can change your mind! Just give me a chance, baby!”

You shiver in disgust and groan. “Well... I have a boyfriend, and I’m not a cheater. Sorry!” This is a lie, but maybe it would shake him off?

“He doesn’t have to know. Come on, I’ll give you a good time.�� Dammit!

“I-“ you look ahead and see a group of people talking just outside a building. One of them is tall and he looks fairly tough, his red hair framing his face nicely. Maybe you could take a chance…?

“Look! There he is! My boyfriend!” You loudly proclaim and hold your hand out to the stranger, inwardly screaming in hope that this man will help you out as you wrap a hand around his arm. “I’m so happy I ran into you like this, honey!”

You look up to the stranger with a weak smile, and then you freeze as you meet his eyes.

He doesn’t have red hair… he has red and white hair.

Oh my fucking god you just called Shouto the number 2 hero your fucking boyfriend oh my god you’re so dead.

“I-is that Shouto?!” The man is shocked, as are you.

“U-uh, yep! Shouto, the great hero, my… b-boyfriend. So, you can leave now! Please go before my boyfriend beats you up!”

Surprisingly, you feel an arm wrap around your waist and pull you close. You look up with wide eyes at Shouto, who’s glaring daggers at the man.

“Please leave.” He practically commands. The creep doesn’t have to be convinced more than that before he’s bowing and apologizing wildly and then running off.

You find yourself relaxing as he runs away so cowardly. Finally…

Remembering who you're connected to, you quickly detach yourself from Shouto’s side and bow.

“Thank you so much for helping me! I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you!”

Shoto shakes his head. “I’m glad I could help.”

You blush slightly and then bow at his friends, which you realize is number one hero Deku and number 10 hero Uravity (oh my fucking god!). “I’m sorry for interrupting your evening. Thank you!”

They politely decline your apology, just as Shoto did, saying it’s no big deal with smiles on their faces.

“W-well,” you stutter nervously. “I should head home now. Thank you again!”

“I’ll come with you,” Shoto says and your breath hitches in surprise. “I don’t want anyone else following you.”

“Are-are you sure?”

“It’s no big deal,” Shoto smiles, just barely at you before turning his head toward Deku. “I’ll see you at your place.”

“Right!” He grins. “See you!” And then he and Uravity head off down the street, chatting animatedly while you stand next to Shouto and watch them go.

Then you kick yourself into gear. “R-right. My place is this way-“ you point to the right, “and thank you again.”

The two of you start to walk side by side down the block. “You don’t have to keep thanking me.”

“Well, you didn’t have to, and it’s really kind of you to go out of your way…”

“I am a hero.”

You laugh. “I guess that’s true! And you’re probably used to getting thanked all the time- maybe it’s like a broken record at this point.”

“Broken record?” He looks at you curiously.

“Do you not know what a record player is?” You ask him, surprise in your tone. He softly shakes his head. “Oh! Well, it’s kind of outdated. People used to play music on it, with these big disks. And then you put a needle on it and it would play music through a speaker, I think?” You gesture what it would look like with your hands, not realizing how silly that might be. “But sometimes the device would break, and the music would shutter and just repeat itself a lot. And it’s annoying because you want to hear the rest of the song, not just one part.”

You realize at the end of your explanation that you were rambling, and you blush in embarrassment as you put your hands back to your sides. “So- so yeah. A broken record.”

Shouto huffs through his nose, and when you look up at him again, you see him smiling. Did you make him laugh- kind of? “You remind me a lot of Deku.”

Deku?! Did Deku ramble a lot?

“I- I hope that’s a good thing!”

“It is,” The hero says simply, still looking ahead. Since he isn’t really paying attention to you at this point, you decide to take a chance and observe him. Usually, when you see heroes, they’re in the middle of a battle and tense and angry. But right now, Shouto is relaxed and calm, though you suppose he’s like that when he’s fighting as well.

Oh, he’s so pretty. And even though he’s just wearing a t-shirt and jeans with a sweater around the waist, you can still tell he’s well built and healthy. Man, what if Shouto was your boyfriend? You don’t think you’ll ever get that lucky!

“Do you see something you like?” You hadn’t noticed he caught you until he spoke up, his eyes looking at you with a teasing gleam. Your face heats up as you nervously laugh, quickly looking away from him.

“Hmm, wouldn’t you like to know?” You decide to throw back at him rather than turn into the flustered mess your body is on the verge of being. The number 2 hero is walking you home! Make this a memorable experience! “But, honestly, you’re just very... pretty.”

“Oh,” when you look back up at him, Shouto doesn’t look like he’s blushing but he definitely looks embarrassed. You suddenly realize that maybe pretty isn’t the right word to use.

“Um! Or handsome, if you like that better!!”

Shouto actually chuckles at you as he shakes his head, discreetly putting his hands in his pockets. “No, it’s nice. Usually, the fans and news articles can’t stop calling me sexy or handsome. Pretty is a nice change.”

“They all mean well, but I guess you have your fair share of people who make you uncomfortable too, huh?” You think back to how Shouto was so quick to help you out with the creep on your back. “It must be kind of hard.”

He doesn’t look that upset. Just... indifferent. “Everyone says it comes with the job.”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like people idolizing and categorizing you, Shouto. You don’t have to pretend it’s fine just because it comes with the job.” You’re nearing your apartment now, and you look down to the sidewalk as you sigh. “You’re allowed to be uncomfortable. I would be if I had so many eyes on me every day, you know?”

The hero beside you doesn’t answer besides a small, confirming hum. You suppose that’s fair- he doesn’t have to agree with you. You’re kind of just making a bunch of guesses, anyway. When you look back up from the ground, you notice that you’re in front of your apartment complex.

“Oh, this is me,” you tell him and smile. “Thank you again for walking me. It was really nice.”

He looks a little conflicted but nods his head with a small smile anyway. “Right. Stay safe, okay?”

Even though you deny it, your heart does flutter a bit at his concern. “Of course.”

You wave at him as you finally turn your back to him, entering your building with a strange feeling in your chest. It stays as you call the elevator, walk down the long halls and unlock your door. Will you ever see him again, besides on a TV?

As you go to bed for the night, the strange feeling still doesn’t go away. Maybe it’s because you’re upset that yeah, most likely you won’t ever talk to him like that again, but what’s there to be upset about? You don’t know who he really is.

And you probably never will.

666 notes · View notes

bts-fantasy · 5 years ago

Text

Anyone

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day of just existing in this awfully lonely world.

That was your first thought when you turned off the annoying alarm clock on your bedside table. You laid in your bed for a solid ten minutes just staring at the ceiling as the empty feeling in your chest grew bigger and bigger. Your mind was a mess full of random thoughts but most of them were about the fact how pointless it seemed to you to stand up and do the same thing all over again.

Get up, get ready, go out, go study, come home and fall asleep.

That was your life and nothing more. There was no excitement, no friends nothing to keep you motivated and it was slowly eating you alive.

After a while of residing in your toxic brain, you finally managed to get out of bed and you decided to play some music to take your mind off your loud thoughts. But you kept skipping one song after the other never satisfied with the vibe and after what seemed like forever you just turned it off completely throwing your phone on the bed with a frustrated sigh.

You then opened your closet to find the same old boring clothes and decided to put on a black hoodie with ripped jeans and looked in the mirror. It showed you the same reflection you saw day in day out nothing extraordinary, just a normal girl in some normal clothes and the normal boring hairstyle.

You weren‘t really into trying new things because you felt safe inside of your bubble then you knew nothing could go wrong if you‘d stick to the old habits. You‘ve been doing it all your life you thought and nothing will change that. Taking a deep breath you were finally ready to head out.

Taking the same route to college you looked past the people surrounding you since you were too deep in thought about what was going on inside of you. Even though there wasn‘t much to think about you kept asking yourself the same question over and over again.

Why do I feel so empty inside?

There wasn‘t really an answer, you thought. Maybe you were just destined to feel this way. You couldn‘t think of something that could change your situation so you banned the question in the furthest corner of your mind and kept going.

A few minutes later, you were sitting in the auditorium waiting for the lecture to start. With your head resting on your hand you looked straight ahead to your professor‘s empty table just wanting to go home already when someone suddenly tapped your shoulder from the side.

„Hey, can I sit here?“

You heard a far too cheerful voice and you turned your head to look to the left. A tall guy in unusual clothes was standing right next to you smiling brightly at you. He was wearing a plain oversized shirt and baggy pants but his shoes were decorated with a bright yellow and orange marker. You eyed his weird sense of fashion and just nodded turning to face the front again.

You tried to ignore his presence next to you but it was hard since he seemed to greet every student that walked past you and it was starting to get on your nerves. Just when you were about to pack your things and sit elsewhere he turned to you with the same stupid smile on his face. It seemed to be permanently stuck on his face you guessed as you raised your brows at him.

„Are you done with the assignment?“

You shook your head hoping for this to not turn into an awkward small-talk session but you figured that it wasn‘t quite your day.

„Me neither! I think it‘s very difficult, I don‘t even understand what we have to do.“

You smiled at him awkwardly but by the way, he looked at you you could tell that he was expecting an answer from you. So you took a deep breath before saying: „Yeah, right.“

He looked a little disappointed by your lack of engagement in the conversation but he didn‘t seem like the type to just let it go.

„I‘m Hoseok, by the way.“

Even though you didn‘t want to tell him your name you knew he‘d just ask you directly anyway if you didn‘t say something. So you swallowed down your frustration and went with it.

„Y/N.“

You had no idea how to escape the conversation but to your relief, the professor walked in right at that moment and the lecture started.

Not long into the lecture, you realized why you preferred to sit alone most of the time. Hoseok‘s presence next to you was very much distracting even if he was just looking straight minding his own business. You couldn‘t help but notice his long fingers moving across his computer typing quickly or the way his left leg was always bouncing up and down as if he was following an inaudible rhythm. Also, his brown eyes looking over the brim of his glasses watching the professor‘s every move in a concentrated manner. It was the complete opposite of how he’d acted a few minutes ago.

„Can you stop doing that?“ You almost jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to look at Hoseok whose eyes were still focused on the professor.

For a moment you were confused about who he was talking to but the quick glance your way confirmed your thoughts.

„Doing what?“, you hissed while trying to pay attention to the professor at the same time.

„You‘re constantly looking over to me. It‘s distracting me.“

Your eyes went big and you shook your head vigorously denying everything.

How dare he accuse you of distracting him when he was the one distracting you?

Hoseok just shook his head and continued typing diligently but a small smirk appeared on his lips that you wished you hadn‘t seen.

The lecture finally came to an end and you couldn‘t wait to just go home and get some work done. However, before you could pack your things and leave Hoseok stopped you.

„You can have my notes. I‘m sorry if I was too distracting.“ He said it with a knowing smile that you just wanted to slap off already.

„Why would I need your notes? I have my own“, you raised your chin looking away but his low chuckle made your head snap back again and you stared at him quietly.

„Have you looked at your notes? Half of the pages are empty, Y/N. Just accept my offer, we‘re friends now, aren‘t we?“ He waited for your response but you needed a few seconds to completely understand what he‘d just said.

Looking at your computer you realized that he was right but still you didn‘t want to take the notes from a stranger. However, he was referring to you as his friend and something inside of you jumped at that mention.

Hesitantly, you nodded causing him to break out into that same goofy smile again and you gave him your number so he could send you his notes.

That day you went home after the lecture just like every other day but something inside of you had changed and somehow that day felt different from the countless other days in your life.

A/N: This was just for fun because I felt like I had to write something after listening to Demi‘s „Anyone“. I still get goosebumps every time I listen to it! 🤧 Sometimes all we need is a friend to get through the dark times so go and tell your friends that you love 'em!🥺💜

Sweet Dreams!🤟🏽

Masterlist

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flowerspecial · 5 years ago

Text

“I know we don't know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you.” with Jungkook

Over the holidays, you always wanted to save that bit of money for university. University had so many hidden costs at the beginning of the year you did not want to get caught with your pants down. So over the holidays, you found a nice little job working at a diner and just got to work. You weren’t the most sociable of people, like sure you had your close circle of friends but you were never one for going out or anything. That meant that you ended up doing a lot of graveyard shifts at the diner. Not that you really minded though. You just needed to alter your sleeping pattern slightly. And of course the lack of customers was a massive plus. With the addition of the staff you worked with being very laid back, it meant that you could just do your own thing. Your favourite thing to do was to put Netflix on your phone and watch it while you did some summer work to prepare for your studies. You enjoyed it. You didn't really have many complaints.

Now, the usual type of customers that entered the diner at such ungodly hours were usually truck drivers, or people that were travelling and needed a quick break. You had the list of regulars memorised. So when someone new came in, you couldn't help but look at them.

You sat behind the counter, watching the latest episode of your favourite show when the bell rang. Normally you wouldn’t look up, and truth be told that wasn’t always a good thing. But something was telling you to have a look at who had just walked in. You thanked that little voice as you saw probably the most beautiful boy you have ever set your eyes on.

A youthful looking boy, with clear and glowing skin walked in to the diner. He had beautiful black hair that sat just on the nape of his neck. He was wearing an all black ensemble, complete with a bucket hat. You were drawn to him as your eyes followed his every step. You watched him take a seat in a booth near the back. You didn't want to appear creepy, so you quickly remembered that you were at work and went into the back to grab some cleaning supplies. You wiped down the front counter. But you were cut short by the mysterious boy raising his hand indicating he was ready to order. You grabbed your pen and notebook and headed over to him.

As you approached him, you couldn't deny that this boy was utterly stunning. Like it was confirmed that he was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen. But you couldn't help but notice the signs of exhaustion etched onto his face. His eyes were sunken slightly, and he had dark circles under them. He looked tired and worn out. It pained you slightly to see this beautiful stranger in such distress.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” You asked him. The boy looked up at you and you suddenly felt a little bit nervous under his watching eye. He made you feel like a schoolgirl who was partnered with her crush.

The boy ordered his food very quickly and passed you his menu eagerly. It was clear to you that he wasn’t in the mood for small talk so you whisk yourself away rather quickly and handed the order to the chef.

Your encounter with the beautiful boy was short lived. It seemed to take him only a matter of seconds before he had devoured his food. And he sure as hell wasn't waiting around for anyone as he rushed over to the counter and handed you the money for his order. With quite a nice tip, to be perfectly candid. You watched him sprint out the door and felt a bit deflated. You wondered if you would ever see this beautiful stranger ever again.

But as luck would have it, seeing this stranger became quite the regular occurrence. Every night he would come in, round about the same time, and take a seat in the exact same place. He would order the same thing, and every night you'd watch him devour his food, practically throw his money at you, and then dash out of the door. As the days went on, you noticed how the severity of his exhaustion was seemingly getting worse. He was losing that beautiful glow in his skin, and his under eyes honestly looked like they had been punched. They were that dark.

When the beautiful boy walked in for the fifth time that week. You decided that maybe it was time to try and talk to him. At least enough to find out his name. His head was in his hands, and so you knocked on the table slightly to indicate your presence.

“I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you.” You said to him as he pulled one hand away and tilted his head to look at you.

“Excuse me?” He replied bewildered.

“You come in here night after night. You always seem like you have somewhere important to be and you look like you haven’t slept in weeks. I know it's not my place to say. But as one human to another, I think you need to start looking after yourself a little bit more.” Before he had a chance to reply, you turned on your heel and walked away.

After twenty minutes or so, you walked back out with his food and placed it on his table.

“How did you know I wanted that?” He asked you.

“You come in here every night and order the exact same thing. It wasn't exactly a random guess.”

He looked at you bemused. He thought there was a certain charm about you. “I’m Jungkook by the way. Do you want to sit with me?”

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be working.”

“Oh come on, please? It’s not like this place is particularly swarming with customers or anything.” You looked around the store which confirmed what he was saying. Besides him there was only a couple other customers. Both of which you knew, and as long as you were there to top up their coffee, you didn't think they would particularly care if you were sat with this boy.

You sat down on the opposite side of the booth and Jungkook grinned at you. You watched him take a couple of mouthfuls of food, before he placed his utensils down and entwined his fingers in front of you.

“I’m a musician,” he began. “We work late into the night, which explains why I’m here at this time. But we also start rehearsals really early in the morning, which is why I always end up running out of here. My sleep schedule is honestly non existent, and what i manage to eat in a day is even worse. That’s why I like to come here. I like to have that time to myself, where I can escape for a little while. And obviously, eat some good food.” Jungkook chuckled to himself at the end.

“Is there no way that you could take a break or anything? It sounds like you are being worked to the bone.” You thought your work life was tough, but it was apparent that it wasn't anything in comparison to his.

“Nope. Not yet anyway. We are getting ready for our next comeback. So we need to be as prepared as possible.” You honestly felt a little sorry for Jungkook. He looked so ready for a break, but it sounded like the possibility of one was way into the future.

“You should eat. You need to have at least one meal inside your stomach.” You encouraged him to take a bite by picking up the utensils for him. Only Jungkook didn't quite understand that was your intention, so he leant forward for you to feed him. You laughed at him but proceeded to feed him anyway. He was cute.

At the end of the meal, you knew that Jungkook needed to leave. So you told him that the food was on you.

“No, you can't possibly do that.” He refuted.

“Of course I can. Now go, you need to sleep.”

“Okay, but if you pay for my food tonight, can I have your number? That way I can organise a night where I pay for your food.” You blushed at his comment. You ran to the front counter and grabbed your phone. You handed it over to Jungkook and he entered his number. He then gave his phone to you so you could do the same. He have you a quick hug before running out of the store.

You returned back to your original seat behind the counter. Moments passed before you felt your phone vibrate in your hand.

Thank you for the food. It was almost as good as the company ;) I’m free this weekend. Do you want to meet up and have a meal somewhere? I’m paying this time XxX

#bts #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook imagine #bts fluff #bts boyfriend #bts blurbs

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caratdeobii · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: lee jeno x reader

word count: 1.9k

genre: fluff; a little bit of angst, i guess?

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking (kids, don’t drink until you reach the legal drinking age)

note: not proofread, i love jeno so much and i have other wip scenarios for the rest of 00 line but i really miss this cute lil baby

the bass of the stereo beats simultaneously with your heart, the booming music obviously loud enough to shake your insides. it has been less than an hour since you arrived, and a total of four guys already came up to you to shoot their shot at you.

one of the fratboys - wooyoung, was it? - who hit on you earlier approaches a lost-looking and naive freshman by the couch. her face brightens up as he pulls a cheesy pick-up line, probably the same one he used on you (the did-it-hurt-when-you-fell-from-heaven one, it was lame), and it makes you scoff at how pathetic and desperate he appears.

he’d really stoop that low?

“that’s the first time i saw you willingly look at another human being for the entire night.” an amused voice muses from beside you.

you sigh loudly with an eye roll, knowing where this is going. but even before you could brush him off, he immediately explains himself. “i’m not here to get laid, don’t worry. i’m the designated driver. i just wanna talk to an actual human being who isn’t trying to feel me up.”

“yeah?” you hum, still a little suspicious.

“there’s a standee upstairs, you know? it took me half an hour to realize it was inanimate. and then some dude tried to feel me up when i went to the restroom to take a leak.” he sighs, shivering at the unfortunate memory. “and since i got here, you’ve already been staring at the same guy. please, it’s been an hour, it almost looks pitiful.”

“i thought you’re the dd?” you eye the red solo cup on his hand, ignoring his remarks.

“it’s just some diluted soda or whatever this is.” he defends, handing you the cup.

examining the contents with a small sniff, you take the cup and bring it to your lips. you confirm it’s diluted... something when your face twists in disgust. “what the hell is this?” you almost spit.

he laughs in satisfaction at your response, and takes his cup back when you practically shove it at him. “no idea, but i’ve been drinking it for almost two deadly hours.”

“has it been an hour already?” you ask, nodding your chin towards the guy you’ve been watching.

“yeah, more or less. d’you need some help?”

you stay silent for a couple of seconds, trying to decide whether or not you should tell a random stranger about why you’ve been eyeing the same guy for almost an hour. you throw reason out of the door and look up to tell him the truth. but damn is he attractive. “what’s your name?”

“hyunjin,” he smiles. “architecture major.”

“i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself. “and thanks, hyunjin, but it really isn’t like that.”

“but you’ve been staring at him for an hour, sis. a beautiful girl like you pining over some guy, that isn’t right.” he whines, bouncing slightly.

you grin at his childishness, “i’m not lying! i swear, jeno’s just a friend.”

“tell me more.” his eyes widen in anticipation.

“sorry, what?”

“you know? when did you realize you were in love with him? is there a bad guy in the story? why won’t you confess?” he asks all in one breath, prepared to listen with undivided attention.

you laugh out loud, “hyunjin, be honest. how many romcoms have you watched?”

he smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “i, uh, none. i just thought...”

“well, here’s the thing.” you begin. “we’re already juniors in college but jeno still hasn’t been... out there, you know what i mean? he’s always been shy and reserved, too focused on his studies for the past two years that his best friend almost knelt in front of him to even come here tonight.” you tell hyunjin, recalling the way jaemin almost threw his dignity for jeno’s social life.

you met jeno during freshman year. you were in the same orientation group and the ol assigned you as buddies. the first few minutes were a little awkward, but the moment you asked him about pets, everything began looking up. in truth, he was your first college friend. you met jaemin, donghyuck, renjun and mark a week later, and the six of you became best friends. you and jeno, having the same major, became inseparable.

chenle and jisung came the following year. jisung shared the same major as you and jeno, and had been your tail since he got into the university. your friends joke about how you three look like a family, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

until jeno had a summer epiphany about being a little too introverted for his liking. he first told you about it, then jisung. the younger said he didn’t understand his dilemma, so jeno brought it up to jaemin, who told renjun, who said it to donghyuck, who relayed it to mark until everyone in your circle knew (chenle found out from jisung). talk about the grapevine.

the moment you all stepped foot on the uni, mark called in an emergency meeting. thus, the get-jeno-more-friends mission was born.

so, there you are.

“ah well, it’s a good thing seungeun isn’t shy.” hyunjin comments, his eyes on jeno and a girl, presumably seungeun. she places a hand on your friend’s bicep as she giggles.

a small feeling of protectiveness erupts across your chest and you almost march over them to pry her hand from your precious friend. however, one look at jaemin and donghyuck’s proud grins by the beer pong table, and you’re suddenly reminded why you even went here to begin with. it wasn’t for jeno to get laid, no, but it was for him to socialize and expand his circle. you went here to help him make more friends and it wasn’t difficult when almost every girl in the party wanted his attention. none of you were even surprised. he always had that innate charm with him and that eye smile can disarm a sniper in half a second. and you can’t deny how uneasy your stomach feels every time your friend actually laughs at whatever the girl says.

maybe jeno will be okay after all? you wonder to yourself when he spots you and smiles from the other side of the party. you don’t see the way his smile falters when his gaze flickers at hyunjin, who’s standing a little close to you.

“you sure you two don’t have some unresolved feelings in there?” hyunjin asks, obviously seeing the way jeno’s smile fades.

“i never said that.” you admit.

the truth is, you like jeno. and you always thought there was something going on between you two, until he told you about the summer epiphany. the way he said “i want to meet new people” just hit differently and somehow you begin to think you’re lacking as a best friend... and whatever.

“so, will you tell me the story?” he pouts.

“what do you wanna-” you begin, but get cut off by someone calling your name.

“y/n,” jeno calls.

you don’t notice the way hyunjin steps half a foot away from you and the girl, seungeun’s, glare. your eyes choose to see jeno only, and you have no idea how he managed to snap you away from reality by the familiar sound of your name.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, blinking.

“i-”

“hey, y/n. can i borrow your phone?” hyunjin cuts jeno off innocently. this time, you don’t miss the way your best friend frowns.

you give him a sharp look, “what?”

“i think my friends wanna go.” he nods towards a group of boys, one of them beckoning him over. “but i still wanna hear that story.”

“right.” you nod, handing him your phone. none of you notice how jeno’s jaw clench when your and hyunjin’s fingers brush. hyunjin punches his number in and gives it back with a sweet smile.

“it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

“you, too. keep in touch.” you genuinely say. the exchange might be brief, but you actually like him and would love to keep in touch with him.

he joins his friends and with one salute towards you, their group leave the premises.

“so...” jeno starts. “hyunjin, huh?”

you give him a look, “you know him?”

“everyone knows him.” he rolls his eyes. “he’s like, the prince or whatever it is they call him.”

“huh,” you blink. “i had no idea.”

“and you guys say i’m the asocial one.”

this time, you roll your eyes. “how’s seungeun?” you manage to ask without bitterness dripping on your tone. “she okay?”

“i guess?”

“you guess?” you echo in disbelief. “honey, she’s gorgeous. i’d kill for that hair.”

“what’s wrong with your hair? i like your hair.” jeno says, looking straight into your eyes. “and she’s not my type.”

“jen, i have ten thousand split ends.” you deadpan, ignoring the way your chest inflates after he said she isn’t his type.

“where’s the fun of running my fingers through your hair if there aren’t any obstacles?” he grins, his eyes forming into your favorite crescents.

it catches you off guard for a whole minute. your chest feels a little heavy when you think about having to share them with other people. selfish, they’d say, but you want it all to yourself.

hell, you want lee jeno all to yourself - the eye smile and the mole underneath it, the dry sense of humor, the blinding eyeglasses of his, the confused eh’s, the pouts - everything.

you want him. all of him.

“so, uh, what’s the story hyunjin’s talking about?” you don’t realize you’re staring until he speaks again, his eyes a little pink from your gaze.

“why did you want to make new friends?” you suddenly blurt out. “are we not enough?”

“what?”

“never mind, i’m just being-”

“i don’t want you to feel suffocated of me.” he explains, eyes downcast. you suddenly feel bad for pressuring him to tell you, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him. the way he says ‘you’ makes your heart beat five times faster than usual. “you’re easy to make friends and you have lots of them. but i only have you, and it must be tiring. all of you must be really exhausted.”

oh.

all.

of.

you.

he means it collectively, idiot.

you compose yourself quicker than you expected as you reach a comforting hand on his shoulder. “jen, we won’t ever be tired of you.”

“i just don’t want you to think i’m too clingy or pathetic, y/n.” he sighs.

“we don’t think you’re pathetic. jisung and chenle look up to you, jen. jaemin adores-”

“i meant you.” he admits. “every time i see you out, guys are flanking all over you. they’re head-over-heels for you. even tonight. five guys, y/n. five guys came up to you. one of them even got your number. who am i to compete with hyunjin?”

“you’ve been watching me.” you state a little absentmindedly.

“i don’t mean to, but i can’t help it. not when you’re looking like that.” he groans, his hand going through his hair in frustration.

“ask me about the story hyunjin wanted to hear.”

“what?” he asks, confused.

“ask me again, jeno.”

he blinks, and it takes a few seconds for him to catch on. he smiles, his eyes - god, his eyes - forming into crescents, before he steps closer.

“what story was hyunjin talking about?”

“he wanted to know the story about how i fell in love with you.” you say.

you don’t even know how it’s possible, but his smile widens before he puts his lips on yours.

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kinetic-elaboration · 5 years ago

Text

July 28: Braven, Man What the Hell Happened

Braven, 90s AU ~1000 words, for anonymous

90s/2000s song inspo: #149, Walkin’ on the Sun - Smash Mouth

I didn’t really know what to do with this, so secondary inspiration from the Daria episode “That Was Then, This is Dumb.”

This got longer than intended and so editing was, uh, extra minimal.

Currently taking requests for 90s/2000s inspired fics; send me a pairing and a number between 1 and 217 and I’ll write a scene based on a song from my Nostalgic Childhood Music Playlist

My tag list: @ciewill @dealingdreams @shadowheron2013 @julyrubyrose @wonderland-promises @hanav @rycewritestrash @thelittlefanpire @musicnote902 @stonybnatural @earthgay2052 (lmk if you would like to be added to or deleted from this list)

Everybody at the flea market is selling junk. Some of it is one, two generations old, and after twenty minutes of wandering through the aisles, Raven starts to feel like they're on a mission through time, a mission without a goal, a free-floating wandering through the rubbish of the past, searching perhaps for treasure, or just wiling away hours. Summer is reaching its peak, the days long and lazy, the noonday sun high and bright in a cloudless sky. For a while, she and Bellamy walk between the booths together, sometimes holding hands. She's not sure who reached for whose hand first or if she likes this development in things; his hand is sweaty, and she's not used to being tethered to anyone.

They pass by a table selling old jewelry, burnished bronze and gold, that makes Raven think of someone's great-aunt's closet, musty, old gilt-edged boxes covered in dust. Then they stop for a while at a booth selling a miscellany so random, so without categorization, and so old, that she's quite sure someone has died, and this is an unwanted inheritance. She knows something about that.

Later, they separate, for a time. The market is being held in the park and the grass, growing with abandon in the wildness of the season, catches at her ankles, a thick carpet beneath the soles of her sneakers. She finds a little tent selling second-hand books, and ducks in beneath the shade of it. Then sets to searching for a pattern to the makeshift shelves and the milk carton crates of old paperbacks, browned at the edges, eerie in the distorted gray light as it filters through the cloth walls. She's picking her way through a crate of old children's books from the seventies when she feels a light touch at her hip, and almost jumps.

She drops the book she's holding and turns.

Bellamy's hand slips around her waist, half-encircling her. He's wonderfully close in the heat and the dulled light of the sun.

"Kids books, Reyes?" he asks. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Funny," she huffs. She leans her hip back against the folding table, carefully, and he steps closer. He's still smirking, that half-smile she knows well because it was an expression he wore all the time, when they first met. Not that long ago. "I was looking to see if they have any of the books my grandmother used to have—" She breaks off, not caring to fully explain, glances down and sees that he's holding a couple records in his other hand, tucked in against his side. "Vinyl, Blake?" She quirks her eyebrows up. "Do you even own a record player?"

"Yeah, actually, I do." He scoffs, and steps back; she breathes a little easier, feels the heat of being so close rising belatedly to her cheeks. She's not embarrassed to be wrong. Somehow, now that he's said it, she isn't surprised. They haven't spent much time at his place, because he has roommates, and at least one of them always seems to be around. But she can picture his room, with its neatly made bed and messy bookshelves, and the record player in the corner, probably on the floor because he has no other place for it, and—

"Let me guess." She falls into step beside him again, slides her hand into his hand again. "You're into sixties rock. You like to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling and listen to... Led Zeppelin. The Doors. And get high off Monty's stash—"

"That was one time."

The first time they met, sitting in the window seat in his living room with a view of the skyline at dusk, and every small moment grown large, like their fingers touching as he passed her the joint he'd inexpertly rolled, or their knees knocking together, or the smoky taste of his breath when he kissed her, and it felt first-kiss awkward and beautiful all at once.

"But I'm right about the rest of it," she says, and squeezes his hand.

Bellamy neither confirms nor denies, but as they step out into the full sheen of the sun, he squints against the brightness and says, "It just sounds different."

"Sounds like some weird nostalgia," Raven answers. "Do you really think the past was better?"

"I think people cared, more than they care now."

This answer is so vague and so beneath him that Raven almost calls him on it, except he winces, frustrated with himself, and tries again before she can.

"I mean—we're all so complacent now. I am, sometimes. Too often."

His voice drops, and he won't look at her, and Raven wonders if this is some sort of confession. Or something maybe that he's only working out for himself.

"What's that curse?" she says. Softer this time. "May you live in interesting times? Are you sure you're not just—wishing for interesting times?"

"That's the thing!" He glances over to her, and for a moment she sees that his eyes are animated and bright. "These are interesting times. The end of a millennium. But—Yeah, maybe I do wish more people knew we weren't living at the end of history."

His hand is large and warm in hers, palm sweating in the heat. Raven considers this for a long moment: the end of history. The illusion of security. Would she rather drop out of everything, braid flowers in her hair—drum circle in the park, or whatever people did, then, before they got disillusioned, dropped back in, put their old books and records and jewelry in boxes and crates and gave all of the past away to strangers, who are searching without knowing they are searching, with no narrative for searching?

"If this were the end, that would be pretty bleak," she says, at last. And before he can tell her that's not what I mean: "Let's go back to your place. I need to see this record player to believe it."

#the 100 #braven #braven fanfiction #raven reyes #bellamy blake #mine #my writing #nostalgia songs #the year 2019 #2019: answers #2019: free write #i'm not really sure what this is but i think i like it

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maskydoo-old · 5 years ago

Text

Nightmare Neighbors 6

(I’m writing out scripts for upcoming storytime style youtube videos, and posting what I have here. Note that this is a true story. Feedback is welcome.)

Nightmare Neighbors 6 draft

Imagine the angriest crazies you’ve ever met online. Now imagine they know where you live. Now imagine, they routinely hang around near your house, waiting to catch you outside and alone.

Somehow, my life next to Loony and Toony Feckwad was like living right next to the worst kind of Youtube comments section.

And there’s no simple block function.

Now, I’ve been using the made-up names for these people throughout the telling of this story so far, but during these events, I didn’t actually know these people’s names.

I figured at this point, since I was getting the law involved, I really should find out.

Also, I told my boss about what happened, and he told the higher ups at the company. They decided for security reasons to preemptively ban the two crazies from the premises, and needed names and identifying photos so the guards could deny them entry if they ever showed up at my work.

But. Like. It’s not like I could just ask them their names anymore.

So what can I do?

The obvious option was to do a public records search by looking up their address. I got names… but… I wasn’t entirely 100% totally certain it was really them.

I didn’t know how trustworthy the information on shady-looking public records sites would be, and I didn’t want to accidentally give the police, and eventually the court, the wrong people’s names.

I was especially confused since multiple surnames came up for Loony, and I wasn’t sure if they were different people who happened to have the same first name, or if Loony really did change her surname that many times. (It turned out to be the latter.)

So. To Facebook. I couldn’t find a profile for Toony, but I did find Loony. Good enough, now I could confirm their identities.

That was all I wanted to do. I didn’t care to go through her information, and I certainly didn’t want to contact her. I wanted as little to do with her as possible, which was partly why I waited this long to even find out their names.

I was about to click away when… I noticed something. Right to the top of her profile there were several unhinged posts that were clearly about me.

For starters, she was convinced I was stalking her Facebook, and had been for some time. These posts were deranged rants that were clearly meant to call me out, and included lines like:

“I know you’re reading this, stalker!”

I mean… now I was reading it, but these posts went back weeks, months. What the hell, lady? She thought I cared to see her facebook, but that was the first time I ever looked her up.

She even had one that was taunting me for not getting to have her husband and how she’s a special beautiful wife.

She… just has no grasp on reality at all. Imagine being mercilessly harassed by crazy people over a situation that only ever existed in their head.

In her posts, she also ranted about how I was calling her from hidden numbers. Anytime she got a call, it was absolutely me. It MUST have been.

I don’t. I don’t think I have to tell you I obviously never called these people. I’m a millennial. I can barely be bothered to call people I actually like. I order pizza through apps just to avoid speaking to a human.

But that’s not all I was accused of. In a more recent post, she insisted that I had some habit of driving slowly past her house with binoculars.

Ummm…

I live next door to her. I drive in this neighborhood because… I live here. But I funny enough, I don’t drive past her house. I don’t need to. My house is on the corner.

And what would I need binoculars for? Their house is only a few yards from the road. Even if I wanted to watch them… I wouldn’t need binoculars for it. And I would think driving at the same time would be pretty difficult.

I don’t think I even own any binoculars.

And what a weird thing to complain about when they are literally the ones watching me. They watch me from their windows, they stand outside in the dark waiting for me to get home from work. And apparently that’s OK.

Lady. Lady. Lady…. lady. Lady. Do you live in your own little world?

I guess she just assumed that since she was so obsessed with me, I must be obsessed with her.

That’s… that’s not how anything works.

I know in an previous video I called out Toony as a viewer,

(replay joke)

But that was obviously a JOKE. I don’t expect him to ever actually watch this. And I don’t expect he’d have the self-awareness to recognize himself if he did.

But Loony, Loony really thought I had nothing better to do stalk her, or at leas that’s what she was claiming to think on Facebook for whatever relatives of hers that would see it.

I have no idea why she wrote those things. It could be she was just lying for attention, just making it up out of nothing. For what reason, I have no idea.

Or It could be that she was truly delusional, and genuinely believed her own words. It’s possible she was suffering from very real paranoia.

I think the difference between her paranoia and mine is that I actually did have crazy, hostile neighbors.

Whereas Luna had a neighbor who wanted nothing to do with her. I’d be happy to pretend she didn’t exist. If she and Toony ever quit their nonsense, that would be the end of it.

Yet here she was, pretending it was the other way around.

Now. I don’t really care about the unflattering and untrue things she was saying about me on her page. They were absolutely insane, yes, but were not really harassment like standing around in the dark screaming at me when I get home. It’s her page. She can write what she wants. I don’t have to read it.

What I did care about though were the references she kept making in her rants to the day I’d ‘get what was coming to me.’ She said multiple vague threatening sounding things along those lines in a number of her posts about me.

So, yeah… I was right about this pattern of escalation. This nutjob clearly intended to do me harm eventually. As she said herself, it was only a matter of time.

To make matters worse is her Facebook friends and family believed her, and wanted involved. Maybe they’re similarly crazy people, or maybe they were actually decent folks but, since they only had her crazy words to go on, got a very wrong impression of the actual situation.

Either way, this was really concerning when a number of these people left comment son her rants, offering to come ‘deal with me,’ and asking Loony for my information, my name, where I lived.

Ok, so that angry internet strangers at my house metaphor I used earlier had a strong chance of becoming a lot more real than I thought. There were now strangers volunteering to physically come to my home to physically punish me for things the Feckwads were making up.

This is bad. This is real bad.

I didn’t know what to do. I was completely sickened by what I saw. I knew I never wanted look at her page again. I just wanted to close the page and never think of it again.

But… forgetting what I saw wouldn’t make it go away. The danger still existed.

And now it wasn’t just the neighbors I had to worry about. This witch has and an army of flying monkeys to send at me. Any random stranger on the block could have been with Loony and I had no way of knowing.

At this point in my life, I was already dealing with a lot of problems. And I really, really, really did not need this.

I was now alone most of the year, with my boyfriend away at work in another country. I didn’t really have any friends or family nearby. Not much of a social life to speak of. Even at work I was largely isolated. Being a security guard, I was often the only person in the entire building.

My only regular human contact was decidedly negative, which made me withdraw more.

It was like when you burn your hand, you don’t want to reach out again.

And now even had to worry about random strangers at my door.

As I mentioned before, my work schedule was inhuman. I’d work morning, day, and night shift all within the span of a week. Sometimes, these would be 12-hour shifts with only 8-hours off in between. I never had a consistent sleep times.

And when I tried to sleep, I was kept awake by daytime noises, just the unease of being alone, and by having unstable neighbors who liked to sneak around near my house at night.

The work schedule and lack of sleep weren’t great for my grades. I was, of and on, taking classes full time. Or, I was trying to, but concentration was hard. I ended up getting sick and as a result of everything, failed an important class.

My dog got sick, needing medication multiple times per day. Then my cat got sick, and needed emergency surgery. I’d drag myself half asleep to vet appointments, try to find ways to make medication times fit work hours, setting alarms to wake myself up in the few hours I could sleep to give meds, and worried constantly about how I was going to pay for it all.

I spent most of my time indoors. The construction of our homes was very much not in my favor. The way they were designed, the neighbors could easily see from their windows when I was outside. Their bedroom window had a clear view over my fence and into my back yard. And their kitchen widow could see my driveway, so they always knew when I came or left. If they saw me outside, they’d shout from their windows or even come outside to confront me.

But my windows minded their own business. I couldn’t see their property from inside my house they way they could see mine. So I had no way of knowing if they were out there until I was already out my door. I had no way of avoiding them.

So I just. Stayed inside. I was exhausted anyway.

That garden project I wanted to start? Not happening now that my yard isn’t a relaxing place to be anymore.

My dog wants to play, but she’ll have to settle for chasing the ball inside.

The grass is getting long, but I can only manage a section at a time before I’m interrupted.

Eventually, it got hard to find the motivation to do much of anything at all. I hardly even saw the sun anymore.

I’m not saying that the neighbors alone pushed me to seriously google symptoms of depression. They weren’t that powerful, and I wouldn’t want to give them too much credit. I probably would have been feeling generally pretty low anyway.

But they were an extra source of stress that I did not need on top of everything else, and contributed to making my existing troubles worse.

I mush have looked pretty pathetic. I don’t care much for malls, but I dragged myself to one one day, and I wasn’t even sure why. I guess I just wanted to be away from my house. I bought a pair of pants I didn’t need just to justify the trip. This cashier, I didn’t even know her, came around the corner and hugged me. I didn’t tell her anything, but I guess she just knew I needed it.

I should be able to feel safe in my home, but this was stolen from me. I worried about what might come next. Maybe they’d damage my property. Maybe they’d hurt my dogs. Maybe they’d attack me in my driveway or break into my home. Maybe they’d send a stranger after me.

I couldn’t know.

But what I did know, is that I couldn’t live with this. No. I wouldn't live like this. I refused.

Time for a plan.

#maskydoo #nightmare neighbors #storytime #script #feedback welcome

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lenneth-andrew · 5 years ago

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Lenneth Andrew

Appearance –

Gender: Male Race: Duskwight Elezen Height: 6′8” Eye Color: Moon white Hair Color: Midnight, easily sunbleaching to medium royal blue

The Facts –

Name Day: 9th Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon (June 8th) Occupation: Alchemist Sexual identification: Homosexual Romantic identification: Homoromantic. He doesn’t exactly think of himself as polyamorous, if you asked him, but he does have multiple concurrent romantic relationships so... Alignment: Recovering neutral evil Criminal History: Managed to evade arrest within Dalmasca for quite some time, until he finally crossed one too many lines and the Garlean police finally came after him for a little TLC time in a labor camp. For the rest of his life. He managed to ship himself to Radz-at-Han in a crate before they shipped him to a gulag, but only just. Relationship Status: In open relationships with both Atherton Namir (@imperialnuisance) and Ilan Faust (@fireiistarter). Susceptible to catching The Feels for anyone male and reasonably nice to him. Sweet on: Other than Atherton and Ilan? He’d rather die than confirm or deny anything, honestly (but it’s not terribly hard to guess based on the company he keeps). Hard to say, though, he’s strikingly incompetent at figuring out which emotion he’s feeling, just that there is one and can it please stop now.

Favorites –

Favorite food: Anything strongly-flavored and very, very spicy. Favorite drink: Alcohol? He’s not actually that picky, but a good whiskey never goes amiss with him. Favorite artist: He doesn’t really have much of an opinion on this front, but he does really enjoy Renaux’s singing voice. Favorite scent: Incense, tea, whiskey, certain alchemical processes, ceruleum exhaust, machine shop grease, tobacco, woodsmoke, somnus. Favorite person: If he absolutely had to choose one person, likely Atherton, as that’s who he has known the longest and been the closest to, but he’d really rather not be put in this position, thanks.

Randoms –

Ten facts about your muse: ⚫ Lenneth has been at other times a somnus dealer and information broker, but he’s largely gotten out of the business and got clean. (Also I don’t do heavy drug RP now for OOC reasons, so there’s that.) He does still grow his own moko and use a fair amount of it, as it’s one of the few things that keeps his rather twitchy nerves on an even keel. ⚫ While he is an arcanist, he learned a different school in Dalmasca more focused on disruption of biological aetheric processes and without any kind of summoning. He struggles to use Eorzean books as foci, as the math is wildly divergent from what he’s expecting. He’s also largely self-taught, so some of his grasp of it is more intuitive than learned, so while he struggles with inorganic targets, he’s also a fairly flexible caster and can change strategies on the fly if needed.

⚫ Lenneth grew up in Garlean-occupied Dalmasca and considered himself Garlean for his entire life. To some extent he still does, even though he’s applied for Eorzean citizenship as a refugee. He’s finally adapting to life outside a regimented system in which he’s at the bottom, but it’s been a Process, man. ⚫ In the same vein, being Garlean has made it extremely difficult for Lenneth to talk to or trust most people for several years now, and it’s worn on him incredibly heavily. He’s at last in a somewhat better place, as almost nobody would attack a refugee even if he told them where he’s from, and he’s been working very hard at not automatically distrusting (if not actively disliking) every new person he meets. His mental health is on a positive trend for a change as a result.

⚫ He loves swimming, and moving to Mist has been a fantastic thing for him. Lenneth swims near-daily, weather allowing, and finding him along the shore in the morning is not at all an unusual occurrence when it’s warm. Growing up, he often went swimming in an abandoned quarry not too far from town, so even in the desert he managed to practice frequently enough. He’s fairly good at it at this point, and the Elezen build of a lean body, long arms, and large hands gives him a bit of an advantage.

⚫ You would not expect a bookish noodle of a man like Lenneth to enjoy fighting, let alone be any kind of competent at it, but he actually has an impressive record at the Gin Mill, in single matches as well as taking home the grand championship of a full bracket tournament. After suffering a near-fatal knife wound from an extremely poor loser, he lost a lot of his confidence and stopped competing, but he’s been slowly coming back again and hasn’t lost too much of his edge.

⚫ He originally learned alchemy (also self-taught, as are almost all of his skills) in order to process his own somnus from raw materials and cut out the middleman, but he’s turned it into a legal day job and a decent business. Most of his product goes to Ilan’s and Nevivi’s clinics, but he does a fair trade around Ul’dah, usually dealing in bulk with other merchants as a supplier. He’s not opposed to making sales to individual clients (plot hook!), though it isn’t the largest part of his work.

⚫ Lenneth has a very self-deprecating sense of humor, and you’ll know when he thinks of you as a friend because he’ll turn it outwards and give you a rough time about minor things in jest. Granted, sometimes people can find this offputting, and then he’s back where he started with them. Whoops.

⚫ Having been born and raised in a desert, Lenneth cannot stand being cold. Unfortunately, Atherton very much likes Ishgard and the Skysteel Manufactory, so he can either spend time there with Atherton and freeze, or not spend time with Atherton and stay warm. More often than not he ends up staying home, where the snow cannot get him. When it even gets cold in Vylbrand, he just complains and lives in Atherton’s room where the forge keeps it warm.

⚫ Lenneth’s difficulty in trusting people is finally starting to budge, after years, but it’s been an endless uphill struggle for him. He has a very hard time showing it but he’s incredibly grateful for the friends that have stuck with him even when he’s done terrible things. Granted, once this sentiment’s been filtered through his tsundere shell, it comes out a little more scary than he means for it to...but he really tries.

Five Things -

Things they like:

Extremely hot foods

Good tobacco

Really, anything made with good workmanship

Comfort in just about any form

Cozy spaces, not too brightly lit

Things they dislike:

Jumpscares

Having to hear about how Garleans are all terrible

Being assumed to be Ishgardian

Strangers touching him

Thinking about his family

Good habits:

Left to his own devices, he’s fairly motivated and productive

Actually fairly clean and tidy, likes everything in order

Between his own love of swimming and Atherton’s morning exercise routine, he’s fairly active and in decent shape

He likes learning new things and is a good self-teacher

Though he’s not an easy friend to make, once you do, he’s loyal to the point of murder (...which might actually be bad)

Bad Habits:

Using moko and alcohol to make up for a lack of coping skills

Forgetting to eat when he’s focused

Does not do all the pushups, basically ever

Automatically thinking of most people as savages...

Really cannot keep a regular schedule to save his life

Personalities they gravitate toward:

Strong types

...Kind of scary types actually

People who radiate self-confidence

Intelligent sorts

Very loyal people

Personality types they avoid:

Braggarts

People with chips on their shoulder

Clingy sorts

Martyrs (although he has multiple friends in this category, much to his nonstop chagrin and early gray hair...)

Stupid brutes

Fears:

Scorpions

Alienating friends (but he’s so good at it...)

Crowds

Rejection

Being physically entrapped

Tagged kind of indirectly by: @shroudwayman Tagging: God damn this was long, do it at your own risk if you want to.

#Lenneth Andrew #character meme #FFXIV RP #wow this was just way too long lmao #but also kind of fun

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keener-esme · 6 years ago

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the luxury of loneliness

ft: zig novak & esme song description: after frankie’s anonymous text forces her to reveal some of esme’s reckless activities, zig comes to her house in the middle of the night to check on her. date: february 14th location: esme’s house tw: mentions of drug use

Esme wasn't going into the day with high hopes as it was; she'd never been much of a Valentine's savant, and if she hadn't owed Fiona a favor, she'd have stayed home altogether. She was indifferent to the whole idea, and while she didn't have a terrible time after Declan salvaged the evening off campus, she never saw Frankie's conduct coming. It was a shock to say the least, and, coming after Esme offered to end her tryst with Zig, one she didn't think she deserved. Thinking it a salvageable enough idea to watch movies on the couch, the house empty for the night save for herself, Esme rummaged through the kitchen for a quick dinner idea, settling on the leftover pint of ice cream in the freezer. Satisfied with the selection, she settled down onto the sofa, drifting to sleep until hearing the knock on the door. She stood there for a moment, curiously. Her dad wouldn't be home all night, and he obviously had keys. Miles wouldn't know she was home. That left Frankie as the most reasonable person, come to apologize. Unsure if she wanted to face her, she paused to take a spoonful of the dessert in her hands, figuring she'd have to see Frankie at some point. Walking to the door, she took a deep breath before pulling it open, not expecting anyone else to be on the other side. "Zig," she greeted, confused. She stepped aside, silently inviting him in.

Zig wasn’t one for school sanctioned social gatherings. He found them to be pointless, especially one with a Valentine’s Day theme. It was a holiday for love, and as far as he knew, there was nobody he’d even come close to loving at the moment. For that reason, he considered the dance to be a waste of time. Rather, he spent his time at the ravine, downing Coronas and hitting on any pretty face that walked his way. The text from Frankie had caught him off guard. Esme was the last person he intended to put his focus on that night. The fact that she’d been mad at him was starting to get to him, for some strange reason. He had hoped the rose would help to ease the tension, but he had become quite frustrated with himself for even caring in the first place. He had hurt plenty of girls in the past and never thought twice about it, so why was this different? He looked at his phone, briefly took a look at this ‘Micah’ guy’s Instagram, then requested the address from Frankie. His initial reaction was to ignore her pleas and tell Miles to take care of it, considering the two were most likely closer than her and Zig. He decided against bickering with Frankie on the topic though, since she did seem genuinely worried over Esme’s well-being. He tossed his beer can into the trash, offered a halfhearted goodbye to those at the Ravine, and headed towards the direction of Esme’s house. His navigation app had informed him the walk wouldn’t be long, luckily. After a while, Zig finally reached a house that caused him to audibly groan with annoyance. Of course, she was rich. No wonder her and Miles got along so well. Surely, they must’ve spent their time bragging about their riches and looking down on people like him. The smarter part of Zig told him that Esme wasn’t like that, but the part consumed by envy was ready to turn around and call it all off. Instead, he sighed and knocked on the door, knowing very well that a part of him worried for the other’s well-being as well. “Hey,” He smiled, eyes widening as he took note of the elegant decor in her home. “So you weren’t gonna tell me that you were completely loaded?” He raised an eyebrow. The only other house he’s been in that could match the adornment of this one was the Hollingsworth residence. “Whatever, that’s not important. Are you... okay?” He asked with a bit of hesitance, wondering if she’d actually give him a straightforward answer.

Esme Zig was the last face she thought she'd be ending the night facing. She didn't expect him to take part in the festivities she herself was strong armed into, so she couldn't rightfully anticipate him to; romance wasn't for either of them. So it was all the more intriguing to be face to face with him now. "I didn't think it mattered," she responded truthfully, raising a matching eyebrow at the confusing greeting. It hadn't ever crossed her mind that her family wealth was something of importance, least of all to Zig, who didn't know much else about her. "But hello to you too, I guess? You can come in," she invited awkwardly, ushering him in off of the porch he lingered on. "Why would I not be okay?"

Zig paused for a moment. He supposed she was right, but the fact still bothered him. It almost made him feel like the two came from completely different worlds now, despite feeling so similar in the past. “Maybe because I heard you were coked out with Declan Coyne and some guy named Micah. God... that stuff’s dangerous, Esme. You shouldn’t just go off doing it with random guys.” He almost sounded like a scolding father, which was ironic coming from Zig, who always seemed to be the bad influence in all of his relationships. Zig was never one for the harder drugs though, preferring a simple blunt over anything that needed to be ingested or snorted. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, sorry,” He murmured, knowing his mouth was what got him into trouble with Esme last time. “But why do you have to do that stuff? The coke and the pills?”

Esme's night was only getting stranger, certainly not pacified by how oddly concerned Zig's face appeared to grow. It was strange enough to have him at her doorstep at such an hour, but to hear his sudden chastise was flooring, her eyes widening at the specific knowledge he suddenly possessed. "What the fuck?" She nearly choked, her hands raising to stop him from continuing. "I... wow, okay, first of all, that's not what I was doing with Declan. And how the hell do you know Micah? No random guys, what are you even saying? Why are you here?" Lifting one hand to her temple, her other reached back to the forgotten ice cream, anxiously taking a heaping spoonful as she walked farther into the house.

Zig crossed his arms over his chest, almost irritated that Esme seemed completely fine despite Frankie's evident concern. "Okay, then what were you doing with Declan?" He questioned, anticipating an answer that he most likely didn't want. "I... I just know, okay? Who it came from doesn't matter. I'm here because I was worried about you." It was probably best not to dance around the subject and simply be straightforward, as much as he didn't want to admit that a part of him was starting to care for the girl. "Which I guess was pointless since you seem okay to me."

Esme lifted her eyebrows as if to question his audacity - and perhaps his sanity. Who was he to be pressing her for answers, especially if he still hadn't explained why he was, or how he'd found out any of the things he was prodding into. "I don't think that's really any of your business," she returned calmly, stabbing the spoon into her carton to set it on the kitchen island. "He's a friend. The dance was a mess so we left and had a better time," she explained, not out of the feeling of owing him, but because she could tell he wasn't one to let up. She didn't accept his answer, too bare and vague for her liking, and she mentally recounted anyone who had known her at both school, a small enough list to narrow it down quickly enough. "Did... did Frankie tell you all of this? She sent you here to babysit me?"

Zig rolled his eyes at her response, wondering why he even expected a real answer from Esme in the first place. In the beginning, he liked the fact that Esme was shrouded in mystery— things were easier that way since they both only came to each other for one thing in particular. Now, he found it a bit bothersome that every time he tried to make any type of connection beyond sex, Esme was far too keen on pushing him away. "Well, I'm glad you two had lots of fun together, then," he responded with heavy sarcasm and a sudden urge to pummel a rich kid. At the mention of Frankie, he knew there was no denying that she was the one who passed along the information. "Really? Frankie didn't send me over here to babysit. She wanted me to make sure you were okay. Is it that hard to believe that she just cares about you?"

Esme "I didn't see you at the dance, so I can only assume you were having just as much fun," she accused, picking up on his upset. "Do we have a problem here?" He queried, aggression in her tone. Her eyes narrowed, at an utter loss to why he was so unhappy that she'd spent any amount of time with Declan. To her knowledge, they didn't have issue with one another, so it couldn't have been personal, and past that Esme had no idea what to think. At the confirmation that Frankie had outed her, Esme shook her head. "Unbelievable, that little bitch," she scoffed, reaching for her cell phone. It was a shock to say the least, and, coming after Esme offered to end her tryst with Zig, one she didn't think she deserved. But the damage was done, and it would seem that Frankie succeeded whatever in whatever her plan was. It was just sex, Esme reminded herself, so it wouldn't be the end of the world if Zig never spoke to her again. That was the logical way to see things, but her heart wasn't making that connection, giving her that sinking feeling since she'd answered the door. "She cares so much that she booked it from the dance the second she saw me - and left Declan, who was her date, if you really need someone to be mad at."

Zig "I haven't had 'fun' with anyone else in... shit, how long has it been?" The question was enough to make Zig stop in his tracks and try to recall the last time he hooked up with anyone who wasn't Esme. It must've been a month at least. Though, this choice was not intentional as far as he knew. He simply excused his behavior with laziness as opposed to anything else, knowing the draining effects of talking to more than one girl at once. "I don't have a problem, I came to check up on you. That's it. If you want me to leave I'll leave." It wasn't as if he felt the most comfortable there anyways what with being so out of place. "Whoa, hey, chill with the name calling. She's your friend, right? The one you drunk texted me about not wanting to lose? I'm sure there's a reason why she did it, so why don't you talk to her before getting pissy about it?" He suggested with such eloquence. "I don't wanna be mad at anyone, okay? I didn't come to yell at you or anything. Maybe to tell you that what you're doing is stupid, yeah, but I'm not mad." If there was anyone to be angry at, it was himself for even caring in the first place.

Esme, while still annoyed by his assumptions, was a little surprised to hear of Zig's unintentional loyalty to her. She'd figured he was running around with a stockpile of other girls in town, never giving it much thought, but now hearing the very opposite confirmed, she wondered why he didn't use his charm to his advantage. "Oh." she responded, feeling a touch of awkwardness that she couldn't say the same. His offer of retreat would normally be something she accepted straight away, had she not sent him away at the doorstep, but she couldn't bring herself to want the departure. Maybe she just didn't want to leave things with such a looming air of tension since she already had so many other important people not on her side. But was Zig important too? She stayed quiet, effectively allowing him to stay, and the silence continued through the small lecture. She set down her phone, knowing that in some sense he was right, as awful as it was to admit it. "She had no right to tell you about that stuff," she defended softly, seating herself at the island. Her eyes moved up to meet his, glowering for a moment at his insult. "I don't do it that often, and I'm sure you do your share of stupid things too, so I don't know if you're the right person to be telling me this. I'm fine, you said it yourself," she repeated, gesturing down at her body, now very aware she was still in her gown.

Zig took a seat next to her, sighing audibly as he did so. He nodded his head in agreement at her statement, also understanding that Esme had every right to her own privacy. Realizing this also made him realize that his visit may have seemed far too invasive. Granted, he never would have come if he knew she just got home from spending the night with Declan, but even so he felt somewhat bad for barging in unannounced. "You're right... I don't know if this helps, but I don't really plan on telling anyone, so..." If the information Frankie provided was meant to be kept a secret, then Zig would do his best to keep it that way. "I do a handful of dumb things everyday," He agreed. "But nothing that'll kill me... for the most part." Zig has made plenty of bad decisions in his lifetime, but none that he would ever consider life threatening— illegal, maybe, but not deadly. "And why do you have to look so good in that damn dress thing?" Even when she made no attempt to do so, she still managed to look captivating in anything she wore. He hated how attracted he could be to her, even in moments like this.

Esme could feel the rising unsettle in her stomach, a number of sources responsible. Most could be explained away easily enough, but Zig wasn't one of them. The sudden nerves as his tone softened, how she chose to believe his assurance. It was unlike her to put as much thought into relationships of any sort, but she wanted to be able to trust him, a far cry from the bare bones unions she'd forged with most anyone else. She shrugged at his promise, drumming her hand on the discarded and melting ice cream to appear casual. "I'm fine, Zig," she repeated, abashed. It took a moment to register that his next question was a statement, and not the aggravating line of inquiries, peering back over to him with a growing smile. "Low standards probably," she joked, struggling to accept the compliment in a lighter setting. Anxiously -for no good reason-, she combed her hands through her hair, messy from the impromptu couch nap, trying to pull it back into place, but it was a lost cause draped around her shoulders.

Zig watched as her fingers became tangled in a mess of raven waves, suddenly noticing that this was the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down. No matter how dirty they got in the past, her hair always managed to stay in its signature braid. "Why don't you wear it like that more?" He gestured to her head. "It looks pretty— not that you don't look pretty with your usual thing, but..." He turned away, suddenly feeling a bit awkward over how drawn to her he was. "Oh, hey, looks like your ice cream's a puddle now. Sorry, I guess I kinda distracted you from it."

Esme tried to brush the hair away before Zig noticed it was out of its usual state, but he was always one step ahead. "It's a long story," she cringed, letting the hair fall where it may. "Old habits die hard I guess. Clearly," she chuckled tensely, a nod to her others. Her hair had become a defensive mechanism over the years, something she didn't plan on becoming so strict about, but by now there was no going back. She'd forgotten about the ice cream she'd abandoned, only glancing over when Zig mentioned the state of it, Esme moving away to wipe the counter clean. "It's like, three in the morning," she announced, trying to center herself and pull away from the frighteningly sincere moment she wasn't prepared to handle. "Do you-" she paused, confirming in her head that she was okay with what she was about to offer. "You can stay here if you want. My dad went to see my mom, so he won't be back until tomorrow."

Zig nodded his head in understanding, aware that he would not be hearing that 'long story' anytime soon. Baby steps, he supposed. After Esme mentioned the time, he instinctively went to glance at his phone to confirm the numbers on his home screen. "Your dad's going to see your mom? So she doesn't live with you guys... but he still visits her?— y'know what never mind. Yeah, I'll stay." To him, it sounded like an oddly messy divorce, but he had done enough prying for the night, and decided it was best to drop the subject altogether. A sudden wave of exhaustion had overcome him anyways after realizing how late it was, and he was no longer in the mood to talk. "I've always kinda wanted to see how your bedroom looks," he noted, rising from his seat and waiting for Esme to lead the way.

Esme was kicking herself once again; it was a with terrible ease that she kept dangling breadcrumbs of her past into Zig's lap lately when it was something she damn well prided herself in keeping to herself with anyone else. Her only solace was that he didn't press the matter of her parents' situation, one she wasn't willing to unload. From the time Zig arrived, her state was different, and she was having a hard time getting a grasp on things. This wasn't in her repertoire, and it definitely wasn't part of the arrangement she and Zig had going, but there was no denying that it was a relief that he agreed to stay with her. "Okay," she accepted, flicking off the light behind her. She didn't plan on explaining her aversion to being alone, and it was a convenient excuse to use the time as a reason why it was beneficial to him, and nothing more. Ushering up the stairs and into her bedroom, she held her arms out for sarcastic fanfare. "Hope it's everything you wished for," she teased, turning her back to him with an "unzip me?"

Zig followed along up the stairs and to her bedroom, one that he found to be quite normal looking. A very anticlimactic reveal, indeed. Though, he supposed the excitement was about to begin now that Esme was literally asking him to undress her. He nodded obediently, moving closer so he could get a grip on the tiny slider and unzip her outfit. He watched as the dress fell to the ground, revealing Esme's bare skin that he had now been so accustomed to feeling. "So... are you gonna put your pj's on now or...?" For the first time, Zig felt a bit awkward initiating anything amorous towards her— like it wasn't the right moment despite Esme being stripped down to the bare essentials.

Esme hadn't meant her undressing to be anything more than a bedtime task, but that didn't mean she couldn't run with it. "You don't like seeing me naked anymore?" She purred, turning to face him and as a result, fully expose her bare skin. Initially it was nothing but a joke at his expense but now that she was able to see his face, she couldn't find the same lust in his eyes that her nudity always unearthed, and that made her much more nervous then being so physically vulnerable in the first place. It was suddenly very necessary to Esme to remind them both of who they were to each other, whether she really wanted to or not. "Should we..." she trailed, walking her fingers down his chest and down to his waistline.

Zig couldn't help but smile at her question. They both knew very well how heavily attracted they were to each other, but he wondered if there was anything beyond lust. "Uh... do you wanna just... sleep?" He almost felt dirtier asking for that as opposed to sex. Him and Esme never slept together in the literal sense— the act may have been too intimate for the both of them. "I mean, I'm down for anything!— But you're probably tired, and so am..." There was also the fact that she had just spent a night with Declan Coyne too, and knowing Esme, their plans went far beyond drugs and friendly conversation. Choosing to push that aside and not get worked up over it again, he offered a slightly uncomfortable smile.

Esme wasn't sure if it was offense that she was feeling; truthfully she wasn't sure how to feel at all about his dismissal, as uncomfortably polite as he presented it. She wasn't used to rejection, especially never from Zig but she knew by the way he backpedaled that it was a rejection nonetheless and even though she wasn't offering her services for her own benefit, it was a strange sting for him to want something so passive instead. The gut feeling was back that lines were being blurred, and prior to this night she never would have seen herself sharing a bed in such an innocent matter with the boy in question but she could acknowledge the relief she felt all the same. "Yeah... I'm pretty tired," she confirmed, swallowing the embarrassment of asking in the first place. Taking a step back from him, she stepped into her bathroom to wash off the evenings makeup, retrieving and ingesting a couple of routine medications before pulling a robe from the back of the door to sheathe herself, now feeling far too naked in more senses than one.

Zig made an attempt to clear up any misunderstandings, but by then it was most likely too late. "Not that I don't want to... but we don't have to have sex every time we see each other... do we?" The question was almost asked in earnest, as he pondered where exactly their relationship stood at the moment— or if they even had one, for that matter. When Esme agreed, he took a seat on the bed and waited patiently to complete her nightly rituals. Upon seeing her emerge from the bathroom, he groaned. "Shit, you look good in a robe too," He commented with false irritation before laying down and patting the spot next to him. "Ready?"

Esme wouldn't say that it was upsetting to hear Zig press the matter of their connection necessarily, but it did leave her feeling unsettled. "Isn't that our whole thing?" Her words held no ill will, really asking herself for clarification more than anything, but it was a double edged sword she walked along to hear what his answer might be. Pulling away from the too real moment, she couldn't help but smile at his admiration, one that had been growing on her. "I try," she teased, smoothing the plush fabric over her thighs. Standing at the edge of the bed she asked herself the same question... was she ready? Even though she'd been the one to offer, would she make it through the night beside him with her sanity in tact? It was noticeably more awkward to just linger at the side of the bed, so she put her qualms aside, peeling back her side of the bedding and slipping in beside him. "Yep," she chimed, too eager as she reached for the remote at her end table to turn off the lights above them.

Zig nodded slowly at her question, "Well, yeah... I guess so. Maybe it doesn't have to be though." The two had an unspoken agreement on what they both wanted out of their fling, but now Zig questioned where his true desires laid. He thought sex was the only thing he really got from Esme. Looking back though, he realized that maybe, just maybe he wanted more. It couldn't have been a coincidence that she was the only girl he hooked up with now, originally blaming it on his own laziness, but perhaps a part of him knew that wasn't the whole truth. In all honesty, Esme was the only girl who could capture his interest outside of the bedroom. Was this... a crush? Was Zig Novak actually developing a schoolboy crush on someone? The thought alone made him shift uneasily on the bed, but he began to relax at Esme's confirmation. As the two got into bed, he moved closer to wrap an arm around her figure. He assumed the whole ordeal would be awkward, but after settling into a comfortable position, everything felt... right. "Well... goodnight, I guess," He murmured, nestling his head closer to hers and taking in the scent of her flowery shampoo.

Esme figured the worst would be over just with the words exchanged, but the physical nature was the most dire. It was a sick irony, considering the basis of her relationship with the boy who now looked far too comfy in her bed, but she'd never quite mastered the intimacy aspect that was being thrown her way presently. She wasn't good with feelings -not that she was allowing herself to catch any-, nor did she ever see the point in making meaningful connections. She knew herself, and they wouldn't be built to last. Turning on her side as if facing away from him would calm her nerves, she tensed at the arm splayed around her, accepting it after a moment to save face. "Goodnight," she returned quietly, counting down the minutes until her sedatives would rescue her from the web she'd woven herself into.

#para #zig #zigncvak #p:luxury

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