#so maybe we got a handle on it before the exponentials got to us | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dbgdbw · 3 years ago

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198화

브레이커 길드 (2)

Breaker Guild (2)

“Rok-ah. Sorok-ah, look at me. Hm?”

From its place on the ground, the white fawn only blinked up at me. It wasn’t even lounging. It was stretched out on the floor with all four limbs splayed out.

“You gotta get up. You can’t stay here like this, y’know.”

Its ears twitched back and forth and the short tail gave a flick. But that was all it did.

“Sorok-ah……”

It wasn’t even that I’d been about to make it do something rigorous, but it was already like this before we even got to the practice room for the tour I had planned. Was it that Hyuna-ssi had been scammed. This kid was super lazy! If it was only because it was still young, that would be a relief.

“How are you gonna reach maturity like this.”

The problem was, that I couldn’t train it like this. They would still grow if I applied the My Kid’s Growth buff, but it would take exponentially longer than if I’d actively trained them. Though I should be able to raise them to maturity a lot faster, once the stamina potions became available soon.

“...to think it’d be a matter of the baby monster’s stamina, and not mine.”

Meanwhile, the other kids were so hyperactive that they easily surpassed my own zeal. I hadn’t ever thought to factor in the possibility of a lazy monster. On top of that, it was a deer. Not a turtle.

“Let’s get up, hm? Or let’s go back home, at least. This is a hallway.”

I tried to pick it up, to no avail. It had a decent amount of heft and size, so it would be difficult to drag it along by my lonesome. Maybe I should call for someone.

Reaching out a hand, I scratched the white pelt where it folded, where the flank joined with the leg. It stretched its limbs wide before flopping over to the other side.

“You’re not thinking of getting up at all?”

- 삐앵.

Sorokie let out a bleat, as if complaining. On top of the nocturnal ones, now I had baby monsters that were low-activity as well. Usually, I’d use the thing that they liked as bait to get them to move, but I still didn’t know much about Sorokie. Its source of sustenance was vegetation that came out of Dungeons. It was delivered by Breaker Guild every morning.

Unlike omnivorous unicorns, Sorokie was one hundred percent herbivorous, and would only take magic stones as an occasional snack. It ate as much as an elephant would in fruits and greenery instead. Though it was only about the size of a young calf, its digestive capability was endless.

“Alright, we’ll sit here if you like it so much.”

I went and got comfortable next to Sorokie as well. Lifting its head, Sorokie soon plopped it back down on top of my leg. The short tail flicked back and forth.

“There’s no reason to rush, so it’s fine. Blue noona will be fully grown soon. Since Blue noona isn’t shy, gets along with Hyuna-ssi, and likes Dungeon raids as well, she’ll be more than enough to fill in for Sorokie until you’ve grown up.”

Even after Sorok fully matured, Moon Hyuna might end up raiding with Blue anyway, depending on the Dungeon. Since Blue was a flying-type. Hyuna-ssi wasn’t one to pick and choose when it came to affinity, too.

“Eating well and being healthy is what’s important when you’re young. And not causing trouble for others as well, of course. Sorokie is a good kid, right.”

It was better that he was placid than being too fierce for me to handle, even if the activity level was low. Though it might become problematic if, as a mount, he remained docile even as an adult. But he was still a boss monster, so he would probably step up to the occasion.

“Maybe I should look into the foods it likes? Isn’t there something that might pique his interest. Which nation’s Dungeon had Sorokie come from, again. Will I have to read up on Dungeon raid reports for winter deer-types(1).”

Though the likelihood of content such as ‘how to hunt x’ coming in handy was fairly low. Maybe I should use an animal behavior specialist. They probably had a better shot at investigating than I did, even if the object of scrutiny was a monster.

Just as I’d decided to first gauge his preferences by dividing up the feed by type, I heard the sound of footsteps. At this time, it wouldn’t have been Yoohyunie or Yerimie. So then it was probably Moon Hyuna or Kang Soyoung. When I turned my head, Moon Hyuna with something that looked like a cake box in one hand came into view.

“What’re you doing in the middle of the hall, Director Han-nim.”

“As you can see, Sorokie won’t budge at all.”

“A real sleepyhead, huh.”

“All kids are like that. You’ve got to sleep well to grow well.”

Sorokie started bleating again when I got up from my spot. When I didn’t show any signs of sitting back down, he flailed his way back up. Then he started chewing on the hem of my clothes. This kind of thing did take after the unicorns.

“Shall we go home?”

Saying ‘let’s go,’ I tried to walk away, but he held onto my clothes while not even moving an inch. Did the hallway appeal to him that much.

“Hold this, Director-nim.”

“What is it?”

“Apple pie.”

Handing me the box with the apple pie, Moon Hyuna heaved Sorokie up in her arms. Even when Sorokie flailed around, her posture didn’t waver in the slightest.

- 삐애앵.

“This brat’s pretty strong, huh?”

Chuckling, Moon Hyuna started walking towards the rearing center. One side of the rearing center, which had started filling up with pens, had a wide-open wall. It was a passageway that connected to the gymnasium. Since it was natural that they would feel pent-up, no matter how well their pens had been crafted, we’d made a wide clearing that had grass and trees and put up a tall enough wall so that the baby monsters could play freely.

Two unicorns, who had been playing by themselves in the sunlight, came bouncing over once they discovered me.

“The foals have grown a lot too. I saw that Blue was in the rooftop garden, is it fine for her to roam free?”

“She was at least taught that she shouldn’t attack others.”

I’d spent over half a day shouting no, with Peace’s help.

“Still, just in case, an A-rank Hunter takes watch while the gymnasium is open.”

I said, nodding a greeting towards the Hunter posted near the exit of the gym. Even at full maturity, an A-rank barrier would be more than enough to block her off, and she tended to listen well enough to people she was familiar with, even without the Owner’s Mark. Though her approach was closer to you play with me instead, then.

- 푸르릉!

- 푸흐.

Both the black and white unicorns pushed their heads onto my shoulders while sending glances at Moon Hyuna. Having set Sorokie down in the pen, Moon Hyuna looked at the unicorns.

“Whitey and Blackie(2), right.”

“Yes.”

Though it hadn’t been so at first. While sending Sorokie over, Moon Hyuna had mentioned to me that it might be better if I refrain from being the one to name the baby monsters. But ‘Sorokie’(3) wasn’t much different, was it. It just meant ‘little deer.’ Even if she said the hanja(4) was different, it was still homonymous.

“Since you said Blue is almost fully grown, that means these guys are almost there too?”

“Yes. Because of that……”

I stopped myself and shut my mouth. The corner of Moon Hyuna’s lips went up knowingly.

“I’ve already heard that Haeyeon plans to form a S-rank raiding party outfitted with mounts. The young master’s team count will reduce sharply, it seems.”

“The surplus members will be moved to Hunter Kim Sunghan’s team. It will become the fastest S-rank raid party in the world.”

With Peace and Yoohyunie as the cornerstones, it was a minimalistic team with the fewest members possible assigned to the two unicorns. Since there weren’t very many monsters capable of keeping up with a unicorn’s speed even in a S-rank Dungeon, without other DPS, the team would have only six others besides Yoohyunie, comprising a tank, sub-DPS, and a healer.

As Kim Sunghan was a defensive-type, if he was supplemented by the displaced offense-types, then there would be no need to add or remove any DPS-type Hunters from the current lineup. We were somewhat lacking in sub-DPS and healers, but more of them would be recruited from MKC.

“How exciting. Even when he only went in with Peace last time, they still broke the record. If it’s a lower S-ranked terrestrial-type Dungeon, they might even crack it within three days.”

“Certainly, with enough firepower. Since the speed will be completely different.”

It should be possible to make short work of most of the regular monsters, if he swept through the area with his flames while receiving a buff. As Peace had access to a galloping Skill as a subspecies of unicorn, if their running speed and attack pace were at a similar pace, then nevermind three days. It might be over in two days instead.

They’d probably have to move more carefully if it was a high-grade S-rank, but I predicted that it should still be applicable up to mid-grade.

“Is that pen with the curtain our Comet’s place? Soyoungie was boasting that he’d grown a lot.”

“He’s about Blue’s size now. Once he’s fully grown, he should be bigger than Blue, I feel.”

“Soon the kids’ll be leaving one by one. We’ll have to hurry and procure some A-rank mounts as well. Work hard, Director-nim.”

Wearing an anticipatory smile, Moon Hyuna looked over at Sorokie. Just like how MKC had ended up imploding way ahead of schedule, Breaker could also deviate from the way it had been pre-regression. Pre-Return, even S-rank mounts hadn’t existed.

“Since you’ve come all the way here, would you like to stop by for a bit before you go? You even brought a pie, so I’ll at least offer some tea.”

“Right, take this.”

Moon Hyuna proffered a mini portal and key.

“I heard you still haven’t been able to switch out the portal key?”

“The inner door’s been changed. As for the portal, the Association being fairly belligerent about it.”

Sung Hyunjae had said he would consider it, so long as the Association acquiesced first. Hashin had been the same.

“It might be because things have gotten more complicated recently.”

Moon Hyuna said, turning her steps. Her long legs made for wide strides, but she kept a leisurely pace. It appeared to be out of deference for me.

“A vacancy opened up for Yeouido with MKC’s collapse. People’re worked up to a frenzy over it, right now.”

MKC Guild had been set up in the Yeouido region. Breaker was near the Blue House, and Hashin was located between Seoul station and City Hall. Haeyeon was in between Gangnam’s Hunter Association building and the court house. A bit oddly, Seseung was out near Seoul’s National Cemetery.(5)

“Whether it’s Haeyeon or the mount rearing facility, there’s been deliberation over moving one of the two out to Yeouido. It might not be a guild, but the rearing facility seems plenty dependable too. Since it houses various S-rank Hunters and monsters, as well as other high-ranking Hunters.”

“Chief Seok told me to disregard that. Saying, it’s not like they’re going to be footing the bill anyway.”

No small amount of money had gone into the rearing facility’s construction. The same went for Haeyeon as well. We’d even begun construction for building expansion recently, besides.

“That’s for sure. But it’s also being used as a pretense to make things more difficult. Like with the portal key.”

So it was just bullying. Even if the Association had been turned over, they were refusing my request because they couldn’t ignore the external pressure, unlike during the A-rank ranking battles.

“Why don’t they just have Seseung take it on.”

“Seseung would’ve done that to begin with, if they’d considered entertaining it. At the time, the behind-the-scenes fighting over where Seseung would end up was no joke. Whether it was congress members, or conglomerates. There’s a rumor that the reason Seseung went to the National Cemetery was because they got tired of all that. It was assumed to be a response to all of those self-claimed important people getting pushy about being guarded over their relative value.”

Was it supposed to imply that you’d need to be at the level of warranting admittance to the National Cemetery at least, to be worth protecting. To be fair, even if the real reason was unclear, he wasn’t the type to obediently move to Yeouido at any rate.

“Isn’t it unnecessary to look for a guild with a S-rank Hunter to begin with. Since if it’s a Dungeon, one could just break out while the S-rank Hunter is away, and everyone has a helicopter anyway.”

“But since it can’t be left empty either, I advocated for the Mist Guild and the Merged Woods Guild, right? Those shitheads, even putting the A-rank part aside, said that they didn’t think a female guild leader would be dependable. It’s been over three years since the world’s changed, but those good-for-nothing bastards are still the same!”

Moon Hyuna complained, scowling fiercely. If it was ‘Woods’ and ‘Mist,’ then it was the guild that had the Hunters who had placed first and third place in the previous A-rank ranking competitions as its Guild Leaders. The two had declared they’d combine strengths to obtain the maintenance rights to a S-rank Dungeon, so apparently they’d merged.

“If it’s the first and third place from the ranking competitions joining hands, they would be stronger than any other A-rank guild, so it really is an idiotic take.”

The Hunter posted near the mini portal saw Moon Hyuna and sent a greeting. As soon as we stepped inside the house, Peace came to meet us, flicking his tail.

- 꺄아웅!

“Yes, Peace, where have Chirpie and Velare gone?”

It was suspicious that they hadn’t come out to greet us as well. After inclining his head for a moment, Peace took the lead and trotted away. Then, sitting down in front of the kitchen door, he looked at me.

“Velare!”

The lock on the kitchen door had been melted away via poison. A fairly sizable hole was left behind. I’d intended to unlock the latch in order to open the door, but it seemed like I could just bypass it with the hole.

“Chirpie, you put her up to it, didn’t you!”

As soon as the door swung open, a small bottle rolling on top of the kitchen table came into sight. The inside was completely empty, and the lid was nonexistent after being melted by poison as well. I shouldn’t have left the bottle holding the magic stones in the kitchen.

Now, where were those brats hiding.

“...Chirpie, Papa is leaving.”

- 삐약!

Chirpie floated down from above the refrigerator. The way it looked at the magic stone bottle with apprehension made me think that it was the ‘other’ Chirpie, but… Recently, even the slothful Chirpie had become clever enough that I got confused. Whether it was acting, or not.

“And Velare?”

- 삐약삐약.

With a small wingtip, Chirpie pointed towards the microwave.

“How good, our Chirpie. I’ll have to reward you.”

As I put on a big smile and took a magic stone out of my inventory, it happily ran over while chirping. So it was the culprit, after all.

“Didn’t Papa tell you not to go into the kitchen by yourself, hmm.”

- 삐야.

“And I also told you that poison is dangerous! You can’t have Velare use venom, poison is not allowed!”

To check that nothing was wrong, I turned Chirpie over this way and that. During that interval, Velare cautiously poked her head out from behind the microwave. As soon as we made eye contact, she slithered out and wagged her tail. That approach was very similar to Peace.

“Velare, you were also told that you shouldn't be using your venom without permission.”

- 시잇.

“Come here.”

They wouldn’t have used the poison elsewhere, right. After rubbing over them with my hand first, I cleaned off the kitchen table and door with a wet wipe. Moon Hyuna, who had been watching everything unfold from behind the doorway to the kitchen, clicked her tongue.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Papa.”

“They’re usually well-behaved, but today seems to be an exception.”

It really was true, so don’t laugh.

Moving the apple pie to a dish, I brought it plus some juice out to the living room. The pie was delicious. The snacks Yerimie and Soyoung-ssi had brought had all been tasty as well.

“If it’s okay, could I learn a bit about Breaker Guild.”

“Our guild?”

“Yes. I’ve heard that it has a lot of connections.”

“A lot of connections, huh.”

Tapping her plate with the tip of her fork, Moon Hyuna smiled with her eyes.

“Wanna visit?”

“Today?”

“Ah, but some of the facilities are only open to women, so you’ll have to crossdress.”

“...I’ll have to decline.”

“Just kidding. Except for the sauna.”

Popping the remaining piece of pie in her mouth, Moon Hyuna stood up.

“I’ll kindly escort you, so do follow, Director Han.”

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(1) 설원순록 → 雪原 + 馴鹿

(2) ‘하양이’ + ‘까망이’, basically like naming them ‘shiro’ + ‘kuro’ lol

(3) 소록 → 小鹿

(4) 한자, 漢字

(5) around this area vvv

#198화 #the s classes that i raised

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 4 years ago

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you suck at crushes

College!Yangyang x College!Reader x College!Renjun

summary: Renjun wants to help you get with Yangyang who wants to help you couple up with Renjun but they’re both annoying, maybe one less than the other

word count: 4.2k

(warnings: swearing, mentions of food) ((lmk if I missed anything))

Taglist! @lanadreamie

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy!! I swear reader ends up with only one guy I just don’t want to give away the ending and I know the summary is ass

God it was like the beams of sunshine just followed him around. Providing him with a natural spotlight that only worked to draw your attention to him even more than usual. The voices around you faded into background noise, and everything else besides him became so fuzzy you could only focus on the one and only- Liu Yangyang.

“Hello?” “Y/N!” “Are you listening to us?” Someone gripped your shoulder and shook you until you were out of your Yangyang-induced-haze. “Huh? Oh yeah… totally.” You answered with absolutely no idea about the conversation happening at the very table you sat at.

Your friends snorted, teasing and making fun of you. A kissing noise, a high pitched teasing exclamation of the man of the hour’s name, and some playful elbows being jabbed into your side. When they finally stopped with the teasing and they actually filled you in you were able to answer some questions about the times at the library.

You slipped into your seat in your geology class, a poor choice on your behalf and quite frankly the school for describing it as something that would be ‘fun and exciting.’ What a total load of BS that was. The professor was an old man that went on and on about his days in the field 40 years ago and rambled on and on about subjects that were 70% of the time not on the tests. However, the one and only bright side was that you had your favorite distraction in this class, Yangyang.

How could one person asking a question about the tectonic plates or the striations on a stupid rock be so attractive? He made it possible.

“Staring yet again?” An annoying voice asked quietly, just inches from your ear.

“Who are you?” You asked annoyed.

“Y/N, that isn’t funny anymore. Not the first time you did it and not the hundreds of times after that. We lived on the same street for years before you decided to follow me here.” He answered with a huff.

“Renjun, will you just go away? You know I’m no good at this so go bother someone else.” You replied. You took your eyes off Yangyang, gave Renjun a quick glare, and focused back on the lab work in front of you. Something stupid about hills or some moutain. Wasn’t this class supposed to be about rocks?

“I don’t need help, I came to help you. We’re friends- shhhh.” Renjun started, quickly shutting you up before you could interrupt. “I can help you with this lab and help you win over your beloved Yangyang.”

You sent him a quizzical look. In all the years you had known Renjun he had never been this... generous- always wanting something in return. “He and I are friends, he’s been super annoying lately and complaining about some final project we decided to do together, but we have months to do it. If I help you guys get together in order to distract him, then he can stop bothering me about that final project. It’s a win-win-win situation.” He explained.

Well, that made a lot of sense. “What do you even have in mind? Yangyang and I don’t talk like we used to, how could we go from strangers to dating in just a couple months.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself. You were the person to show him around school when he was the new kid all those years ago when we were kids, you’re in better standing than you think. We all went to the same school, we already know each other, we all have this class, and I’m not going to let this fail because I do not fail. If I have to hear about the final project one more time I will rip all the hair off his head, three strands at a time.” Renjun pouted.

“You sound completely crazy-”

“If you two need some help all you have to do is ask, I don’t need you two to argue and disrupt the class. Mr. Liu, since you seem to have a good understanding of the assignment, would you mind helping them out?” The professor called out.

You and Renjun sent each other incredulous looks, were you really talking that loudly? “It’s earlier than expected, but don’t worry I got this,�� Renjun whispered.

“You know if you guys had just spoken quietly, I could have left early but here I am. You can’t do anything without me can you?” Yangyang teased Renjun.

“Oh, it wasn’t me. Y/N here is just so stupid, I was trying to explain the lab and it’s like all my words go in one ear and out the other. Maybe you can explain better than I can.” Renjun gestured toward you wildly.

You immediately went to defend yourself but stopped when instead, Yangyang came to your defense. “Y/N isn’t stupid like you Injun, if you wanted some attention you didn’t have to bother someone innocent.”

Your face felt so hot, god this attention was too much to handle so suddenly. It was as if Renjun had thrown you into the deep end of a pool when you had just learned about the entire concept of swimming itself. If this was his attempt at getting you and Yangyang together you were now questioning the entire idea. It was just too much to handle so suddenly.

Yangyang quickly went on to explain the idea of the lab, giving you some tips to make the work easier and how it connected to past lessons. “Do you understand it a little more now?” He asked you.

You hissed when someone stomped on your foot beneath the table. Your eyes met Renjun’s while he discreetly shook his head, seemingly trying to send you some kind of message. But it seemed whatever he was sending was received because you quickly caught on, answering, “Oh uh, this whole class has actually been a bit more difficult than I anticipated, and you seem to have a way better understanding than I do. Would you be willing to maybe meet up sometime and just help a little more?”

“I’m free on Wednesday afternoons, let’s exchange numbers so maybe we can find out what you struggle the most with and what time works for you. Renjun are you coming too, you seemed to get the lab when I explained it,” Yangyang replied.

Renjun answered with a simple nod, sending Yangyang on his way for the remainder of the class. He was quiet the rest of the time, still sitting beside you. When the class was over he looked over at you, “This is going to be so much easier than I thought.”

Some point in the week after class you had all decided on the meeting place and time. Some little cafe just off campus after Yangyang was done with his last class of the day. He said the coffee was good and it wasn’t even expensive, to which Renjun was quick to add that they had friends working there so they got discounts.

Renjun insisted on meeting you a little earlier to go over the details of the plan he had finally come up with. The plan mainly consisted of you just catching up with Yangyang, which would then progress to just the two of you hanging out, then bam! Dating! Much easier said than done you were quick to point out. His plan was just an idea with no details. Like what do you talk about? How do you make him like you? What kinds of things does he like? Could he even like you romantically?

“He actually mentioned to me that he was happy to talk to you again, so I have very high hopes. That was one conversation with him that was not about the final. Just have some hope.” Renjun shrugged.

“You make this sound so simple, but you are not the one risking being embarrassed by telling the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were 10 about your feelings and having even less of a relationship than you’ve had for the past like 6 years.” You huffed.

“Since you were 10? That’s a little embarrassing.” Renjun let out.

Ever since you were kids it was like Renjun knew the exact words and actions to push your every button. Always getting on your nerves and getting under your skin. It was foolish of you to believe that he had matured enough to not tease you, even in your 20s and even in college. Huang Renjun sucked.

You brought your hands up to his neck, fully ready to wrap your hands around his neck and just squeeze- just enough pressure for him to get the idea to just shut up. But of course, that would be unacceptable in public and even less appropriate seeing as Yangyang had come right up to the table before you could do so. You improvised, changing your intended action of a throat squeeze to a nice hug, arms wrapped tightly around Renjun’s shoulders. You smiled brightly, tilting your head away from Yangyang so your lips were right beside Renjun’s ear, “I can go another 10 years buddy, learn to shut your damn mouth. I for one know how to follow through with my threats and will actually pull your hairs from your head- Yangyang, so good to see you!”

Yangyang looked between the both of you curiously, side by side, one with a bright, beaming smile and the other flushed, scared look on their face. He shook it off and pulled out his study materials while making small talk.

By the end of the study session you felt more confident in your geology skills and your chances with Yangyang. He had gotten exponentially cooler as he got older than the kid you met all those years ago. Sure, he was still chaotic and sarcastic, even still a little dramatic, but it nonetheless made your heart skip a beat, just like the first time you laid eyes on him.

Over the next few weeks Renjun slowly stopped coming to the study sessions. He always had some excuse or another, that neither you or Yangyang ever really questioned. In those few weeks you and Yangyang had grown closer as friends, texting each other about more than just class, checking in on each other, sending stupid memes and tiktoks, even a few inside jokes.

But of course, Renjun had to have his time too. Instead of just texting you, he would make conversation anytime he saw you on campus, even going as far as asking you to hang out when he wanted to know what was going on. Every night without fail, he would FaceTime you for at least an hour and a half to ask for very detailed updates which at some point became you two just talking about your days in general. He liked to judge your every decision, giving his own input on even minor things like the seat you sat in for a class he didn’t even have. He said his life lacked drama so he needed to live vicariously through his friends.

“I know we usually meet at the cafe, but even with that discount I really shouldn’t be spending all that money there every week. Do you mind if we meet at mine this week? I promise my roommate buys enough snacks to feed the whole complex and he makes me clean the place every week.” Yangyang suggested about a month and a half into your studying arrangement.

You of course agreed, you’d be crazy to not want to go to your crush’s home, just the two of you- alone, and talking about… rocks.

So when the next week came and Wednesday afternoon rolled around, you found yourself standing right outside your crush’s door, fist raised to knock. You were so nervous, just being alone with him in his home! This wasn’t the cafe where you had other people around, where you knew where things were, close to your home. No, this was his house, and that made you beyond nervous.

He pulled the door open, a wide smile on his face as he welcomed you in. He set your things at his kitchen table and gave you a short tour of the home. “My roommate will be back later tonight, but he made us some food if we get hungry later,” He told you while he brought out his own supplies, once again ready to conquer your weekly study session.

And even though you did at one point struggle very much with the subject, this particular topic seemed easier to understand. So after even correcting Yangyang a few times, the study session became more of a hang out session. So casual that you even answered Renjun’s texts, chuckling at him freaking out in all caps because you were in Yangyang’s home.

“No, but Renjun did that last time we hung out too! We were in public, like full on glass of water spilled across the table and he got so red,” you laughed recalling the memory from just a few weeks ago after watching Yangyang do the same.

Then just a few minutes later when you were both watching TV you mumbled, “I think Renjun would like this show. This is on Netflix right?”

Yangyang being the smart kid that he is, had pieces coming together in his mind, ideas that he wasn’t even sure if you knew yet. He was going to make this happen.

Renjun sat in front of Yangyang, a month before the end of the semester, finally working on the final project. Which, thanks to you, had not been mentioned even once since you and Yangyang started hanging out until a week ago.

After finishing his part for the day Yangyang leaned back in his chair, sighed and smiled. “I think I’m going to ask Sua from our history class out.”

Renjun choked on his drink, did Yangyang really have to pick the exact moment he took a sip of his drink to tell him this? He cleared his throat, “Since when do you like her?”

Yangyang shrugged nonchalantly, explaining that Sua worked at the cafe he was always at and at some point they just kind of hit it off.

Renjun nodded, a little excessively. In his head he was trying to figure out what the hell to do. He knew you liked Yangyang and how hurt you would be if Yangyang suddenly had a girlfriend. At this moment, you were the only thing on Renjun’s mind. “Really? I actually thought you and Y/N might be a really good match, and you guys obviously get along well.” He replied.

Yangyang hid his smirk by taking a sip of his drink, “I don’t know, Y/N is really just much more of a friend than anything. Like don’t get me wrong Y/N is cool, but I see Sua more romantically.”

Before Renjun even had time to process his words and think of the consequences, he suddenly blurted out, “Well, Y/N likes you- and has liked you since we were kids. You have to think about more feelings than just your own Yangyang. Think of Y/N.”

“Like you think about Y/N?” Yangyang replied. Renjun tilted his head in confusion, trying to understand what Yangyang was talking about.

“I know you never grew out of that crush you had in middle school- it’s that cute childhood neighbors to lovers thing. I know that whole plan you made so I could finally pay attention to Y/N, and while I admit it worked, because Y/N is a cool friend, this plan didn’t work the way you wanted it to. I see the way you look at Y/N and every time we hang out that’s all you can talk about. I’m smarter than you Injun, I know.”

Renjun flushed, these were emotions that he had buried deep down years ago. In just two months Yangyang had uncovered and brought his emotions to light. Emotions that had at one point been disguised as that annoying 13 year old kid that would bother you to your wit’s end and now evolved to Renjun putting your emotions before his own. Days that were once filled with him tugging on your hair or tapping on your shoulder and looking away as if it weren’t him, had now become days of texting or facetiming you regularly just to catch up like he had wanted.

“I think you should tell Y/N how you feel, don’t underestimate your chances.” Yangyang told Renjun as they made their way out of the cafe.

When Yangyang told you that he knew you liked him, that he wasn’t interested, that he was actually going to date Sua from his history class, you thought you would be more upset. Embarrassed that he knew you liked him all this time, angry that he didn’t tell you earlier, or heartbroken that your crush of almost 10 years didn’t like you like you liked him. But you weren’t. You weren’t embarrassed, or angry, or heartbroken. You felt fine, it felt like he was just telling you what he ate for lunch. “Okay, so how do you tell the difference between these crystals again?” You replied with a nod.

“And I know you like Renjun.” He added quietly.

You looked up suddenly, eyes wide with shock, “What?”

“Come on Y/N, I think this whole ‘Renjun annoys me to no end’ is just a ploy. Whenever we hang out he’s all you talk about, you guys FaceTime like every night, right? You smile every time he texts you, and even though you play it off as ironic shit-posting- those stories you always post with all the hearts and cheesy ass captions stopped being a joke at some point. You may not have realized it but even with Renjun as just a friend to you now, he means more to you than I do.”

You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, “You know you’re smarter than you look, but I really don’t like you psychoanalyzing me.”

He laughed loudly, “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t exactly have a good record with crushes, obviously. I don’t know what to do now,” you quietly answered, “Anyway this seems like a good ending point, we’ll meet one more time before the final right? Just text me if you need anything alright?”

Before Yangyang could even stop you or try to reassure you, you were hastily packing up your things and out the door. How was he going to get the two of you together now?

It seemed that mother nature seemed to understand the tornado of emotions that were happening for you and Renjun, though you both had no idea about one another, what had started off as a gorgeous spring day had become a dark and rainy spring night. Even Yangyang laid in his bed, unable to sleep as he remembered that he had failed to mention or even plan out- that neither of you knew you liked each other. That would have been nice to know, but it was a little too late for that now seeing as it was like two in the morning.

If you liked Renjun, which it sounded like you did, according to Yangyang and the more you thought about it, it really felt like you did. Not some surface level ‘I like to admire you from afar for 10 years’ crush but rather a ‘I like you and want to spend time with you and I’d hate to see you smile at anyone else like you smile at me and possibly fall in love.’ You sat straight up in bed, flashes of the lightning outside lit your room up, did you just think about falling in love with Renjun? Before you could process anymore thoughts you pulled on a coat and some shoes, grabbing the umbrella you kept by the door. You had to tell Renjun how you felt.

Stepping out of your apartment complex, you thanked the love gods for allowing Renjun to live just a few blocks away from each other and not across town. There was no doubt in your mind that by the time you reached him, you would be soaked to the bone, but you had to do this. There was no point in keeping this crush to yourself just for nothing, you had to take the risk and just hope for the best. Best case scenario, you get a boyfriend, and worst case, well then you don’t talk to him for another few years and every time you see him your heart feels like it's being stomped on. You know, something that could become a regular feeling.

You hurried through the storm, dodging large puddles while trying your best to stay beneath the awnings of the buildings. You stopped at a light, looking out into the rain to see just how much further you had until you got to Renjun’s place. But instead you focused on the sight of someone rushing through the rain to get to the opposite end of the crosswalk. You squinted through the downpour, realizing that the person at the other end of the crosswalk was “Renjun?”

You rushed toward him, lucky that there were no cars at this hour of the night to dodge. He ran forward, meeting you in the middle, pulling your hand forward so that the umbrella covered you both. “What are you doing out here?” He asked you loudly so you could hear him over the rain.

“I was coming to see you,” you started, meeting his eyes that told you he was waiting to hear more, “Renjun I like you. I really like you. I don’t smile, or laugh, or feel happy or even feel annoyed with anyone else like I feel when I’m with you. I want to be happy and date you, use your stupid plans to plan dates for us. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. I’ve had a crush on you since middle school, you don’t know how happy this makes me.” He beamed, using his free hand to cup your cheek.

His hands were wet, and his fingers were cold as they cupped your warm cheek. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?” You asked.

He surged forward, lips meeting your own in a passionate kiss as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips moved against his own, wrapping your free arm around his neck to pull him closer. He let his other arm fall to bring you closer by the waist, deepening the kiss. With one arm holding up the umbrella you decided to just fuck it, dropping the umbrella you placed your hand at the back of his neck.

A sudden honk made the two of you jump apart, rushing back to the end of the crosswalk to avoid getting hit by an angry driver.

“You crazy kids! Living your movie moment! I did it!” You heard a voice yell over the pounding rain.

“Yangyang?” Both you and Renjun called out upon catching sight of Yangyang leaning out his car window.

He smiled, gesturing for the two of you to get in the car. You both shuffled into the backseat, hands held close and sitting side by side to warm each other up after being out in the horrible weather for so long. You were both shivering, teeth chattering, and lips nearly blue from the cold.

“Aren’t you guys glad I meddled? I mean look at you guys, all cute and cuddled up after your adorable kiss in the rain.” Yangyang giddily smiled as he shook some of the water out of hair.

“Can you just take us back to mine, I’d like to get dry so we don’t get sick. If that’s ok with you,” Renjun asked, whispering the last bit to you.

You nodded, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Yangyang nodded, putting the car in drive, chatting your ears off about how happy he was that the plan worked even when he didn’t plan well considering he forgot to mention that you liked each other. He told you both that he was on his way to Renjun’s to tell him that you liked him and force him to FaceTime you and confess.

He pulled up in front of the apartment complex, turning to give you a cocky smirk before you could even get out of the car or thank him for the ride, “So is Injun a good kisser?”

“This whole car ride made me realize how much you suck, seriously. I clearly made the right choice, so I hope and pray for your sake Sua has a mountain of patience, like you never shut up- ever. Thank you for the ride.” You ranted angrily before you made your way out of the car.

Yangyang’s jaw fell in fake offense, “You sure know how to pick ‘em Renjun.”

But he wasn’t met with the shocked face he thought he would see, he was instead met with a dazed, lovesick look. “Yeah I do, I might be in love.”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop reactions #nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct au #nct x reader #renjun fluff #renjun imagines #Renjun Scenarios #renjun x reader #renjun fic

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broken-stardust · 4 years ago

Text

Budding Sunshine

Summary: Reader has something to tell Spencer.

Category: Dad!Spencer with TransMale!Reader Angst/Fluff

A/n: this is for a fathers day thing my friends are putting together but I also love the idea of Spencer being the supportive dad I didn’t have at first

Content warnings: misgendering, bullying, homophobia, transphobia, f slur, (used once) dysphoria

Word Count: 1.4k

Within a week of his daughter getting her hair cut short, he noticed her mood drop exponentially. The day of, she had a new confidence about her, almost like she was a completely different person, but now, sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework on a Friday night, Spencer could tell something was off. Her shoulders were slouched over, her shirt halfway untucked, and it looked as if she'd been crying. It didn't take a profiler to tell that she was hurting. She always came to her dad when she needed help with something, but this past week she'd been distant.

Maybe she was just at that age, Spencer told himself. She was 13, of course. He'd read enough parenting manuals to know that children begin to grow distant when they hit puberty. He knew the science behind it, too. As a young person matures, they want to figure out who they are as an individual, and they need a level of independence for that.

Still, Spencer couldn't help but worry when he heard a little sniffle come from the table while he cooked dinner. Determined to help his daughter through whatever it was that was bothering her, he lowered the flame on the macaroni and cheese and took a seat next to her. Even if she told him to leave her alone, which was a strong possibility, he had to at least try.

"Hey, Sunshine," he said. "What's up?"

I looked up from my geometry homework when I heard my dad's voice. I tried to wipe away my tears as inconspicuously as I could, but I knew it wouldn't work. He gently took hold of my hand as I reached for my face and placed it back down on my lap, opting to dry my tears with his hand instead.

"Hey, Dad," I squeaked, grimacing at how high my voice came out. I looked anywhere I could to avoid eye contact, eventually picking up my pencil and focusing back on my homework. "How's it going?"

My dad sighed gently and plucked the pencil out of my hand, taking my hand in his instead. I looked up at him then, seeing concern swirling in his eyes. I almost started crying again just from knowing that I was making him so upset.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" he said.

Of course, I did. I'd come to my dad for every problem I'd had in the past. This just felt... different. If I told him, he'd look at me differently. Things would change, and I didn't want them to. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded instead. He opened his mouth to say something, but I decided that I should just say it and get it out of the way. So that's what I did.

"Ithinkimaboy."

There were a few seconds of silence which felt like hours before my dad said "what?"

"I-" I took a deep breath. "I think I'm a boy," I said more clearly.

Another moment passed as my dad processed the information I'd just dropped on him like a bomb, and I suddenly wished that I had been in its path, blown to smithereens so I wouldn't have to witness the aftermath of my confession.

"Alright."

The word hung in the air between us like a wrecking ball swinging side to side, ready to knock either of us down. Well, really it was just ready to knock me down.

"Alright?" I repeated, dumbfounded at my father's reaction. It wasn't that I didn't expect him to be supportive; I knew he would be. I just hadn't expected such a calm reaction.

"Yeah. You know, 0.6% of the American population is transgender. People are figuring out their gender identity and coming out at younger ages these days, so it's not surprising that you're having these feelings at your age. Puberty and the development of secondary sex characteristics can often lead transgender individuals to realize that they are, in fact, transgender."

"Dad!" I giggled, squirming at the mention of puberty. "That's gross."

He laughed right along with me. He laid a hand on my shoulder and leaned in to kiss the top of my head before rustling my hair. With that, the light-hearted moment was gone, and my face fell as I remembered the real reason I was so upset.

"That's not why you've been crying all week though," my dad observed, still playing with my hair. "Is it?" I shook my head and willed the tears not to come rolling down. "What's wrong, Sunshine?"

"Well I was really happy with my haircut," I fiddled with my fingers as I spoke even though I knew it was a dead giveaway as to how anxious I was. I couldn't help it.

"Yeah, you were," Dad recalled with a smile. "You were basically bouncing off the walls."

"I was really excited to show it off at school." As I continued, the tears I'd been willing not to spill began to pour out of my eyes. "My friends asked me why I cut it so short, and I decided to tell them I'm trans..." I trailed off then, unsure of how to get the words out of my mouth.

"It didn't go so well, did it?"

I shook my head and wiped away my tears, only for more to slide down my pink cheeks.

"They said I was disgusting," I sobbed. "They called me a faggot."

Dad pulled me in for a hug and whispered words of affirmation into my head as I wet his shirt with my sorrows. My muffled cries slowly got quieter as he played with my hair, and eventually, I was the one to pull away.

"This has been happening all week?" he asked. The worry in his eyes was abundant, and my heart broke a little. I knew what he'd gone through in school, and I knew he hated seeing something like that happen to me. "Have you told anyone?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"I didn't want to get people's parents involved," I explained. "Things get worse when the adults step in. I thought I could handle it."

Dad shook his head slightly before resting it in his hand. I could tell that he was trying to think of a plan for how to deal with this. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it.

"Monday morning, we're going to talk to the principal together."

I was right.

He explained to me that we weren't going to complain about the bullies; we were going to come out and ask that my information be changed in the school's database. He wanted all the teachers to know to call me by the right name and pronouns. And if kids were going to be assholes, I could deal with it now that I had him on my side.

"I assume you do have a name you want to go by?" he asked eventually as we hatched our plan. I smiled. I was waiting for this.

"Yeah," I beamed. "Can you please call me Y/N from now on?"

"Y/N," he repeated slowly as if taking in the information, soaking it all up so as not to forget it. "I like that name. It suits you."

If I hadn't been smiling before, I sure was now. Hearing my dad use the name I'd chosen for myself made my heart soar.

"Thanks, Dad," I said with a smile.

"Sure thing, Bud," he said in return.

I'd been tear-free for at least ten minutes now, and one single word had just ruined that streak. With three simple letters, my dad broke down what seemed to be the walls of a dam behind my eyes, and I was suddenly crying again. I could see the panic in his eyes as he rushed to comfort me.

"Hey, hey," he said rubbing soothing circles on my back. "What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

I shook my head with a big dopey smile glued to my face.

"I just really like the nickname Bud."

My dad let out a huge sigh of relief when he realized I was now crying happy tears. He was about to say something when he was interrupted by a loud screeching sound coming from throughout the house. The fire alarm.

"The mac and cheese!" I yelled, and he turned around, running to turn off the flame under the now burnt cheesy pasta. As I opened the window to air out the kitchen, Dad reset the fire alarm.

"Do you want to start it over again?" I asked. He looked at me with tired eyes. "Or we could order a pizza," I offered instead.

"That's my boy," he said, pulling me in for another hug.

#dad!spencer #fathers day #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #oneshot #spencer reid one shot #blurb #ftm!reader #angst #fluff #i wish my dad was like this #i have daddy issues #this is me projecting

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heyheyloki · 5 years ago

Text

Loving Is (Not) Easy [1]

Summary: Sometimes the best thing you can do is take it head on and wait.

Spencer Reid x M!Reader

Word Count: 4876

1. Sometimes, you need to wait.

The first time you met Doctor Spencer Reid was one that you wished happened under different circumstances. Although, if it did happen different, you highly doubt things would turn out like the way they have. You probably would never be living with him, never be able to be your true self, and never have found the man you want to love for the rest of your life. But, with any love story there will be always things in the way. Your enemy just happened to be time.

Around six months ago was the first time you saw him. He was literally your light in the darkness. He had saved you from a hell you couldn't escape for fifteen years. Over and over again you would wake up in that small room and the devil and his partner would strip you of yourself. They took everything they could from you, yet he was the one to give it all back.

It was around winter, the seasons turning as the green grass began to be dominated by the white fluffy snow. You were never really able to see it though. They wouldn't let you. The only time you got to see the outside was when they would remove the nails from the sheets that blacked-out the window from your eyes. You suppose you could always just try to tear the fabric down, but they would never let you back up in your room without your hands damaged. Too damaged to even touch anything. It stung.

You always believed that your life was supposed to be this way. That you would eventually die before you could even figure out how long you’ve been in this place. Before you could even know how old you actually were. Birthdays, time, those things were long in the first three years up here. After that, everything was such a blur that you barely tried to pay attention to it anymore. You believed in so many things, positive things, and yet as the time went on negative thoughts crawled inside your mind. You would never be able to experience love, or even get a job and normal social life. Something you have been deprived up ever since you came out to them about something personal. Something they thought was filthy and disgusting.

You thought for such a long while that it was your fault, and you still did to this day. Maybe if you had read the signs more you would have noticed. But what young boy notices that stuff? What young boy would think their parents are capable of such acts because of their sexuality?

You never tried to scream. Your mother always told you that if you scream then you’ll get punished. You never tried to learn what that punishment would be. Although, one day the pain was just too unbearable that you let out noise. Your parents didn't like it much. But how can you not scream as they cut open your skin?

Even with the punishment. Even with the beatings. You think the only thing that saved your life was your scream. You only thank those who heard it, the neighbors. They were the ones who brought him to you. And you thank them every day of your life for it.

It was normal day at the BAU section of the FBI in Quantico, Virginia. The team there had received a case from the police in Denver, Colorado about a possible abusive household. Normally, things like this would be handled by the police only. Although, this case was proving to be more and more gruesome than they ever thought possible.

The team had collected in the conference room, the board lit up with two pictures. One of a man and the other a woman. They looked to be completely normal, normal people anyone would pass at any time of the day.

"Nicolás and Vanessa Perez are a married couple in the Denver area of Colorado." A woman known as JJ stated. She had short blond hair and fair skin. Each of those at the table had a conflicted look on their faces, especially since she didn't show any pictures of them as bloody corpses.

"What's so special about them?" Agent Aaron Hotchner, leader of the team asked.

"Well, they aren't dead for one. Although, neighbors have heard screams coming from the house." She said, her thumb clicking on a button on the remote she carried. A small window of video popped up and immediately began to play. It was focused on the ground, a sidewalk. Even so with not being able to see anyone, the bloodcurdling screams of a male was present in all of their ears. Screams that called out in the darkness when monsters are visible. Screams that should never be made possible. But, it was. Those types of voices were signs of clear distress and pain rather than fear. And everyone in the room knew that.

Once it ended, a couple of people let out a deep sigh. Their hearts speeding up for just one moment before putting back up the shield that helped them do this job.

"Do we know who that was?" Doctor Spencer Reid, the youngest of the agents asked.

"No one had any idea up until a few days ago when a neighbor took this picture." JJ said as she put up a somewhat blurred image of a young individual looking out the window of what looked to be an upstairs room or attic.

"We have any idea who the kid is?" Derek Morgan asked.

"No one can get an ID on him." JJ informed the team. Although, just as she believed they would hurry to Denver, Colorado, Hotchner asked, "I understand the severity of the situation but why did the police need us on this case?"

"Well," JJ muttered. Her thumb clicking a button once more as ten pictures of young woman popped up on screen. The youngest at eighteen while the oldest ranging up to her thirties. "All these woman have been going missing in the area where the screaming can be heard. Police there believe it is this couple kidnapping these young woman, but they have no proof."

"Wait, but the one in the picture there is obviously a young man." Emily Prentiss stared clearly for everyone to hear.

"Yeah, that does seem to be the case." Spencer Reid agreed, his hazel hues keeping on the blurred picture of the young man.

"Either way, I don't like the odds that boy has." Hotchner said, picking up himself and the items he owned from the circular table as he and his team moved out. The screams they all heard from that video echoing non-stop in their minds.

2. Don’t Make A Sound

When they all reached the police station cops were running back and forth as commotion ensued the place. They looked around at the panic before picking up the pace to the one who calls the shots, the Chief.

"What's going on?" Special Agent David Rossi asked. He and his team watched as the police chief turned to them just after he hung up the phone. Some determination deep within his eyes, or perhaps anger.

"We just got another report of screams coming from the same house." He quickly stated. "I'm about to go visit the home again, you all are free to tag along."

Everyone quickly agreed, however, Hotchner was quick to leave JJ and Reid at the station to start up a profile for the unsubs. Meanwhile, everyone else traveled to the most unsuspecting home in the most unsuspecting neighborhood. It was one of those neighborhoods that would be in an ad back in the day that promoted the American Dream to foreigners. The clean cut green grass, the perfect two story home, and of course, the whit picket fence. When the team came up to the house and knocked on the door the woman answered first. She stared at them with narrowed eyes as she scanned all of the badges they whipped out for her to see.

"Mrs Perez? We have a few questions for you. May we come in?" Derek asked with the deep and silky voice that attract woman left and right.

"Sure," she stuttered. Her fingers scrunched against her thin scarf that hung loosely around her neck as she stepped aside for them. Each one that entered her home allowed another squeeze at her scarf.

As the officer and members from the FBI looked around the home, they noticed nothing out of the ordinary. It was a typically normal home with a normal living room, kitchen, even bedroom. When they all sat down in the living room to talk, Derek couldn't help but notice a door that looked to lead up to an attic. One that would have to be pulled down from the sealing. Thing was though, it had a lock. He kept it in mind as others began to question her. Rossi looking around at the picture of her and her husband along a table, as well as several items that indicated she was religious.

"Where is your husband, Mrs Perez?" Rossi asked. He stared at the back of her head for a moment before going back to the pictures when he heard her reply, "The store, we needed more food."

"Ma'am, we've been getting several reports now of screams coming from your house. Mind telling us what that's all about?" The officer asked, his brows furrowed more the longer he stared at her.

"I have no idea. It's just me and my husband, you see. We don't bother anyone." She stated calmly. Although, even with her calm demeanor, something about this woman irked Derek to his very core. He could feel it in his gut that something was wrong, and almost on some god-given luck a few noises--like footsteps--came from above. Everyone was quick to get a look up, their minds racing. However, when they looked back at the woman on instinct she said, "We have a raccoons nest up there."

"Better get them out soon, raccoons tend to carry all kinds of illnesses." Rossi said in a manner that was almost read as sarcastic, like he wasn't buying any of it. Although, even with the timid questioning, things began to heat up at an exponential rate when he saw a photo of a small boy. In the picture it was easy to say he was a cute kid. Smooth skin, full lips, gorgeous colored orbs, and healthy looking hair. The kinda features for a male that would mature into god-like looks.

"This your son?" Rossi asked. He held the photo up for her to get a look at when she turned her body around.

"Yes. His name is [Name], a sweet boy." She sugared, something about her honeyed words clawed at Rossi.

"So, where is he now?" He asked, walking up to the group once he set the photo down. He watched as she grabbed a hold of her necklace, a cross, as she said, "I sent him away. Boys like those detectives, they get a lot of attention."

"What kind of attention?" Prentiss asked, her arms folded over her chest.

"Attention one boy should not be getting from another." She hissed out. Her hatred now clear for everyone to see. Her dark eyes scanned the room before her voice became strong, more stern. "How would you feel if your son was kissing other boys?"

"I wouldn't care." Hotchner quickly stated, his own eyes burning with hatred as well. However, his hate was targeted somewhere different. "What did you do to him?"

She stared at Hotchner for a moment. Her eyes twisting into something that made his stomach turn at what she could have done to her own son. Then, a moment later, she raised her chin and said, "Somewhere better. Somewhere where he can learn god's will and fix his devil like face."

After the interrogation at the Perez house, the team went back to the station where Reid had been fixing up a board that helped him classify the unsubs.

"Whatcha got, pretty boy?" Derek asked with a small smirk. He saw Reid turn around with a sorta mocking face for a split second before getting into his findings.

"The only connection I could find between the missing woman was that they are all between the ages of eighteen and twenty, not only that but after about a week they are discarded and replaced." Reid started out saying, thoughts now running through his family's minds when he said, "It was almost like they were defective to them in some way."

Derek was the first to speak his mind, even if he didn’t like the conclusion he and many others were coming up with only after meeting the wife once. “When we went there, she went on about sending her son to a ‘better place’ where he can ‘fix himself’. If her and her husband have him and are taking these women, is it a stretch to say that they’re taking these women for him?”

“Well, why would they be doing that?” JJ asked. “I mean, you guys said that it sounded like their son was homosexual.”

“He can still be.” Rossi said, “but the parents think they can fix his sexuality by forcing these women onto him and when they don’t..”

“They’re killed and replaced,” Hotchner finished, his eyes scanning the board before saying aloud, “let’s go give the profile.”

3. Escape Never Looked So Easy

You’ve known this place most of your life and for the longest time you could remember a new girl coming to visit you every week. No, visit isn't the right word. More so forced to see you. You knew what was going on as you got older and you knew the first thing you had to do was help these women in anyway you could. Over and over again you have failed in ways that no one would ever understand. However, you were determined to help this one. You had too. Not only for a lofty sense of justice and pity, but since it was also your chance. She could help. Go to the police. The FBI are here now, they will help you.

"It'll be okay, I promise." You whispered to a scared woman who hugged her knees in her chest. The tears down her face wouldn't stop, staining her pale cheeks. Her wobbly eyes gazed up at you, staring at every possible scar that they left on your face.

"How do you do it?" Her brittle voice asked. Her head leaned to the side as her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.

It was weird to be asked such a question, but not an uncommon one. They all ask it eventually, and you guess at some point in time you found the answer.

"I.. learned to adapt." You muttered out, your own head leaning downward as you stared at the rotting wooden floorboards. It was quiet for a moment, but you could still feel her eyes curiously watching you. Searching you.

"H-How long have you been up here?" She stuttered, almost scared to know the answer.

This time it was your turn to mirror her look of confusion. You could always tell when it was night and day, when the seasons chance, but you never have been able to count the years that have gone by. That was always the hard part.

"Don't know," You uttered, your voice soft and vulnerable. "All my life, I suppose."

Looking back, all you remember is this place. This way of living. You truly believe the only thing that kept you from believing this was okay in anyway was the books your father sneaks to you. He ended up doing it for as long as you could remember, but after some time whenever she would leave the house he would come up here. He'd teach you things, tend to my wounds, even apologize.

One time, he even tried to help you escape. A while ago, after they put up the tarp so the neighbors couldn't see you from the attic, he left the nails very loose in the wooden boards along the wall. It was easy for you to take it off without making too much noise. The jump down wasn't much given how it's only a two story home and the land would be in some bushes, but she tends to be more concerned with locking you away from the world. Father said it was so you don't 'act on the devil's desires'.

That sentence never did make sense to you. As much as you believe in your own intelligence, you could never wrap your head around it. After all, how would you be acting on the 'devil's desires' when she calls you the devil in disguise. Wouldn't it just be your own desires then? And even so, what's so wrong about desires? That's what makes an individual, otherwise wouldn't we all just be the same?

Father told you it started off with my looks. She believes you’re not their child, and he predicts that's how she can act so monstrous towards you. She apparently used to tell him about how the devil is supposed to be depicted as a handsome man, one with radiant features and charism so he can make others sin. She was always scared of you, of how you would look when you grew older. But, the moment she caught you innocently giving a kiss to a boy, she snapped.

She tells your father that they are ridding great evil from the world. Not so much about protecting you, fixing you. But more about protecting other people, helping other people. She used to call priests all the time when you were younger, but they stopped coming after some time. Your father thinks it has something to do with the fact that she didn't want the priests to see the scars on your face.

The first one she placed on you was on your left bottom lip. It drags from your lip to a little on your chin. It's noticeable, that's for a sure, as well as jagged. Over time, the cuts got smoother. The latest was under your right eye. It was curved to match my eye socket as well as wide more in the middle before riding off. All the other scars just happened to be on your body. Chest, back, legs, arms. She wanted to make sure that you were no longer the devil she imagined. After all, if your face was no longer sinful, if your handsome features were cut up, who would think of you as even the least bit attractive?

You only snapped out of your own thoughts when the girl across from you tapped on your shoulder. Your eyes quickly met hers that were filled with some kinda new strength while you felt wetness stream down your face.

"We're gonna get outta here. Both of us." She said to you. It was the first time someone had offered to take you with them. The first time that they didn't just care about their own escape. Although, you never blamed them.

"Y-Yeah," You stuttered, your voice cracking the longer she stared at you.

However, you decided at this point it would be best to just focus on her. She was more in danger than you were, so, you told her a plan. One that was full proof as long as that woman is out of the house.

"I can't take the tarp down, nevertheless open the window with my hands." You informed her. She guided her eyes to your shaky hands that where riddled with scars and bruises. Some cuts open with dried blood the only thing keeping the wound shut. "They haven't hurt you like they have me yet. So, it's up to you."

"How will I know she's gone?" The girl asked.

"She will be soon. This is the time of the day that she goes out for more supplies. It will take her at least twenty minutes." You informed her. Your head dropping for a second before saying softly, "Get back here with those FBI guys before then."

"Why?" She asked curiously.

You never did answer that question. It was your least favorite of all questions, especially when the answer most of the times is so easy to figure out.

4. God Sent Me An Angel

Fifteen minutes. That's how long she's been gone for. As much as you hope she would bring those people back, you wouldn't blame her if she just ran for the hills. Something like this, it would scare a lot of normal people. Though when does something scary turn into another person's normal? After time? You suppose that could be one answer; maybe even the only answer.

You think it was in a book you read stated that faith could be something of salvation and yet could lead someone onto the highway to hell. You truly believe that is where she will go after she dies, and you do hope that she realizes the truth. The single truth that you are not the devil in disguise. That you are not a sinner. That you are not Satan himself.

It was so quiet, quiet enough to hear your own breathing as it entered through your nose and out your mouth. Your breath laid still in the air, visible by the cool air that surrounded the attic. There wasn’t a heater in there, so the temperature was determined by the weather on the outside.

One minute. Two minutes. You felt like you had started counting the seconds, lost so much in your head that you didn’t hear anything until the sound of clanking wood rang loud in your ear drums, infecting your brain.

You whipped your head around and stared blankly at the only exit or entrance of this hell besides the now broken window. Although, you had heard the sound so many times before that it was normal, most of the time you wouldn't even go to look. But this time you wanted to see, you wanted to look to see if the true devil was going to look you in the eyes or maybe perhaps it would be an angel himself.

However, you heard no sirens. Heard no new voices or those of those men before. So, the moment you saw the light shine from the house into the attic, you knew you would be staring into the eyes of the devil. And you did.

You knew the moment you saw the disembodied look on her face that my fate was sealed with a bloody end. Perhaps now your suffering can end, maybe now you can actually get some peace.

"Get over here, boy!" She yelled, her words like poison. Yet you hoped in that moment that when she wrapped her hand around your wrist that you would be let to your salvation. Maybe when you die you would see the pretty stars, the beautiful moon that somehow gave you a sense of hope in that dark and cold attic.

Her grip was solid and terrifying, although the fear you had for that woman died a long time ago when she started to slash your face. You couldn't see your father for miles, you had just assumed in that moment that perhaps she killed him as well, just like with all the other woman before. The ones you failed to save but each made a vow to, one they wanted you to keep before they met their end.

It wasn't until you both went into the kitchen and found yourself in the spot that she makes a mess with your body that you felt something. It wasn't so much fear or anger, but more so hope. It was the hope that this never ending nightmare would finally come to a close, that you would finally wake up.

"Sirens.." You muttered to yourself, your voice soft like that of a childs. You watched as her face contorted in fear when some men began to pound on the door and claim to be with the FBI.

When the door was busted down she pulled you close to her and held an object close to your neck, yet before it all she managed to grab the nearest bag and place it over your face. Essentially, even to the end she would rather hide me from them all entirely. With your vision gone, all you had was sound and touch to go one.

"Put the knife down!" You heard a man yell. You could remember him as one of the men that came here the other day.

"Mrs. Perez, let the boy go." A soft voice spoke. You couldn't explain why it was silky and not as deep as the other but gave you a sense of calmness. You could tell you would be fine in that moment, and believed it more than the entire universe.

"I'm not letting such evil into the world! None of you understand! He's the devil himself!" She screamed, the knife's sharp edges more prominent against your neck. You didn't make a sound though. You thought maybe you could get punished if you did.

"Why do you believe that?" The man with the calming voice asked. You could tell he was trying to calm her down to let you go.

Her firm grasp on your shoulder suddenly grew tighter, you believed she could shatter your bones if she really wanted to. "Everything about him. He's a sinner, he makes other people sin." She whispered, "He doesn't look like me or my husband."

"You think he's the devil because of his looks?" He asked.

It was silent for a second before she uttered, "I know he is because of his looks. I tried, I tried so hard to make it so he wouldn't make others sin. So he wouldn't spread such evil into this world."

"Why don't you tell me all about it after you hand him over?" He asked. You could tell all of his words were lies. "If.. If he's in custody with the FBI then he won't be able to spread the evil you speak off."

"Could I.. get rid of him?" She muttered. It was quiet, so quiet that all you could hear was your own breathing until you felt the hand on you shoulder slowly loosen. The knife around your neck moved around and before you knew it you could feel a pair of gentle hands on your upper arms.

You could hear the shuffling next to you and the jiggle of metal as they cuffed the woman next to you. It wasn't until you heard those footsteps echo off into the distance that the one in front of you asked, "Are you alright?"

You only nodded. It wasn't that you had an issue with talking or something, you just didn't want to at the moment.

"I'm gonna take this off, okay?" He asked. Your mind guessed he was taller than you and looked up an inch in turn. It was the first time that someone asked permission to do something to you.

You nodded again and once you did the crinkling the bag ran loud into your ears as the darkness you saw turned into light. When you opened your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you. He was young, maybe in his early or mid 20s. His chestnut hair was on the longer side and did this cute thing were it got curly on the ends. It reached down to his jaw that was sharp. He had pale skin, and had these eyes anyone could get lost in. They were sweet, something you haven't seen in anyone but those woman and your father at times.

The both of you stared at one another for an extended period of time. While you admired the man's features, you thought perhaps he was in shock at how hideous you look. Between the scars and such, you wouldn't be surprised if he thought that. However, the more you looked into his eyes, the more the idea of disgust was pushed from your mind. It was like that emotion wasn't even present as he stared at you.

Though, when he snapped out of his daze, he looked back on his game.

"Hey, there," he uttered calmly. "My name's Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI, you're gonna be okay, you understand?"

You nodded your head again. You could tell he probably thought you were mute or something so when he started to move away you said aloud, "[Name]."

He was quick to move his head around back at you. The expression on his face was one of shock. He was truly baffled you were speaking, which made you almost retract. Although, I didn't.

"What was that?" He asked in confirmation.

"[Name]." You said more firmly, my natural deeper tone coming through. "That’s my name, since we’re sharing."

This time it was his turn to nod his head a bit, but at the same time, he smiled. It was softer and showed no teeth, but a smile nonetheless. It somehow softened you a tad, almost made you feel vulnerable to an extent. However you knew that it probably had something to die with the fact that he saved your life.

"We're gonna take you somewhere safe. Is that okay with you?" He asked. The second time someone has asked your permission. It truly felt wonderful. It was almost like you mattered, like your feelings were valid.

"Sure," you said. It was at this moment that your turning point would occur and you would be be allowed the freedom to do what you pleased. Something you were deprived of for over fifteen years.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x male reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Headcanons #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x male reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader

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rosyfingereddawnn · 4 years ago

Text

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

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shimmershae · 4 years ago

Text

So. Thanks to my new anonymous friend, this is going to become a thing.

Shae’s thinky thoughts about the latest episode--Acheron: Part 2--beneath a cut.

Because spoilers, however vague they might be.

Let’s be real here. This is more a stream of consciousness than anything else so if that’s not your thing, you are most welcome to nope right on out of this post. Trust me. I’ll completely understand, lol. Sometimes? I wish I could nope right on out of my own brain and the way it operates.

That said? Without further ado--

Episode 2′s opening, though. Maggie trapped with hungry Walkers converging? It totally gives me Glenn under the dumpster vibes. I don’t know if that was intentional or just happy coincidence but way to link Maggie to her dearly departed better half, show.

Is it just me or has Father G had more OOMPH to him these last few seasons? Again, I have to ask--Rosita’s influence or no? Regardless, I bet Seth Gilliam is loving the job these days.

Side note: am I gonna have to go to bed early every Saturday night from now until the end just so I that I might be able to SEE? Something? Anything? My curtains are flimsy-ass. I admit it. But this is more frustrating than TXF. Angela, WTF?

No, seriously. It’s like complete guess work who’s in these subway scenes. Some of that has to do with them being overly populated by redshirts and the rest of it has to do with me having to squint and turn sideways to make out their facial features.

Look at Daryl busting through concrete walls! Should I call him the Kool-Aid Man considering NR has once again allowed himself to be led right into a biased, shipper trap? Hmm. I might.

Imagine seeking refuge in those dark, filthy subways. Any second now I expect to hear the skittering of rats. Will Dog lose his effing mind a la Divergence? He’s been shown to go off half-cocked that way, lol. Oh well. Guess it’ll be in character if he does.

Impressive graffiti storyboards. Does it mean something that it immediately cuts to the Commonwealth storm troopers afterward? Maybe. Who really knows at this point? They been trying to gaslight us forever.

LOL at Princess yet again. Yumiko is just like da fuq is this person?

No, really. LMAO. “That was her. From last night. Did you see how she was looking at us?”

Then you have Eugene, hahaha. “Oh God. Why did he tell off the big guy?” Like the man is totally me in this type of situation. Not even gonna lie.

“That’s right. We want to talk to the manager.”

I literally cannot wait ‘til Carol and Daryl meet Princess. Can. Not. Wait.

How sad is that note on that $100 bill? Small moment but it totally gives me Season 4 vibes when they were on their way to Terminus seeking sanctuary.

Hmm. Remember how that place wasn’t what they thought it was? I’m sure neither is the Commonwealth. But I feel like what’s left of Team Family is totally going to do Rick proud, lol, and prove they’re messing with the wrong people if they try something.

Daryl, Man. You gonna have to get a better handle on your headstrong Fur Son. I wonder if Dog would listen better to his mama? Things to ponder.

Sounds like Miko has this group’s number. Or does she?

Princess and Eugene totally look like they’re waiting their turn for the Principal’s office, LOL.

“Stop moving! You’re taking my nerves over the edge to a proverbial 11 on a scale of 10.” I feel you, Eugene. I do. Also you, Princess. Two of the most relatable TWD characters right there, I’m telling you.

Princess is me when I really, really, really have to pee. TMI? Sorry, lovelies. LOL. I just...she’s so relatable.

LMAO. “If that fine ass dude in the orange suit...” Princess and Mercer incoming in 3-2-----

Princess’s excitement over the toilet paper=PRICELESS.

Eugene, Man. You desperately need to develop a poker face.

There’s Daryl getting another cool camera shot. Angela? You playing favorites again?

Carol’s claustrophobia could have never. I bet that’s in the back of Pookie’s mind. You can’t tell me it’s not because Carol lives in there rent-free.

Ohhh. Back to the subway car. Looks like we got the Maggie redshirts leading the way. First sacrificial “lambs”?

Maggie pistol-whipping Negan was kinda deserved, but he wasn’t all wrong so.

Damn. I’m no Gage fan. He can fuck all the way off for what he did to my baby Lydia. But Maggie over there with ice in her veins.

Yep. I think the dude just got one of the most gruesome deaths in a while. Yuck.

I think Alden’s faith in Maggie definitely took several hits. I feel like he kind of had her on some sort of pedestal dating back to Hilltop times. Father G, though? The man is continuing to show himself a SAVAGE MFer.

Josh gives Eugene such believable tics and mannerisms. He IS Eugene.

Thank you, Maggie, for lighting that flare. I could not see a damn thing.

What are these bad memories Negan alludes to? Hmm? Him being a shit husband to Lucille back when he was still taking her for granted?

Father G on Gage’s Walker--”All that is, is a shell of a man, who died a coward.” Kind of ironic considering Father G’s own origins, huh? Has he any warmth in there for anybody but Rosita and Coco? Does he equate it with weakness?

“There are worse ways.” And Maggie proceeds to paint us a horror story with mere words.

Dark Maggie really surpasses anything certain fans have ever accused Carol of being. Is she too far gone? Who the hell knows? I think it’s clear that she and Carol are both on a sliding scale of sorts when it comes to being able to compartmentalize shit to survive. Personally? I feel like Maggie might have leap-frogged Carol in this episode but it matters none because of the double standards so deeply entrenched in this fandom. Both women have endured and had to do some horrific things. It’s not a contest. But it’s probably going to be turned into a season-long one.

It’s almost like Kang was like, “Ya’ll bitches think Carol’s dark? I’ll show you DARK. Check and mate.”

Whatever the reasoning, Maggie just got exponentially more interesting to me if not likable. And before anybody out there comes at me, it’s entirely possible to be on a character’s side in some things and not be all up their ass in love with them, lol. Like I’m attached to her because she’s family and Glenn loved her. There’s a loyalty there and she absolutely is justified in her hatred of Negan. But I’m not going to pretend her shit don’t stink like everybody else’s.

Speaking of my baby Glenn. What would he think of this version of Maggie? I think he would be gutted and heart stricken that events led to her being like this but he’d understand because he’s pure like that. Don’t mean he’d be A-OK with it all.

Dog must be protected at all costs.

Confession. I know not the fuck who Pony Boy is, but I know him because all my fandom friends have pointed him out to me, lol. RIP, Man. I think you’re number’s up or close to it.

Okay, though. I admit it. I am kinda LOVING Badass Father G.

That scene in the subway car with all of them working to take all the Walkers out was already badass. Then Daryl arrived and made it, in @freefromthecocoon’s words, HAWT. LOL.

Eugene staring at that little black book like it contains torture tools, hehehe.

“Processed? As in administratively? Processed as in bologna or other meat stuffs? This inquiring (enquiring?) mind needs to know.” OMG, Eugene. I admit it. Even if it makes me look like a lunatic, LOL. I straight up LMAO at that one. I mean, ten years later and Terminus still fresh on the man’s mind.

“You like feeling nervous?” Well, no. None of us that do, Mercer? Do.

Then he proceeds to make me howl with his “You can’t lie for shit” to Eugene.

Josh McDermitt? I love you, Man. 40 year old virgin, LOL.

All this talk over the seasons of Daryl’s virginity and we have Eugene, hahaha. But was he telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Finally. Some daylight. Where I can see.

Eugene’s relief at seeing his friends safe and sound was such a beautiful thing to see. I loved those hugs.

Mercer’s face when he snarled “beat cop” in disdain to Ezekiel. I think I’m gonna love this dude.

“I went to West Point. Asshole.” Yeah. I am.

I know they probably catfishing Eugene right here because spoilers tell us that ain’t Stephanie. But my heart still did a little d’aww. Angela. Don’t play with his poor heart like that.

What’s got Daryl so pensive, huh? Is it that the note reminds him of kids being lost or taken from their family? Or separated from their family? Is he thinking of those Grimes babies and wondering if Michonne will ever make it back and why and how she was able to leave them behind? Tell me it ain’t that Find Me nonsense.

“This place sure has gone to shit since the last time I was here.” LMAO, JDM. I mean Negan. Sorry. Sorry. I still hate Negan, but JDM has me entertained at least since they gave the asshole some shades of gray. And speaking of shades of gray. I’m loving the gray beard. JDM’s looking GOOD (hear that NR? Embrace the gray). Negan can still kick rocks, lol.

Anyway. That scene was CREEPY AF. Not even gonna lie.

The Reapers strutting right on up to our group like it’s The Purge: ZA.

My bad, Pony Boy. Now RIP.

Dark, dark episode with loads of tension broken up by some welcome humor by Princess. The girl is fast becoming a fave of mine.

My baby’s back next week!!!

I’m just going to plug my ears and pretend they’re trying to capture/recapture the horses because they’re pets. Not because they’re starving so bad they feel the need to eat them. La la la la la. I can’t hear you.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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foxy-exy · 4 years ago

Text

Strange Engagement - Kevaaron

Prompt from here 09. we’re strangers who meet at a bar, get drunk, and wake up to announcements of our new engagement all over our social media - what did we do???

cw: alcohol use, blacking out, vomit mention, the vaguest suggestions of sexual content — also take note that sexual content happens while both of them are drunk, fyi

Finished this finally for a late bday present for @starsandgutters !!

Aaron does not get blackout drunk. Well, not anymore. It’s a rule he’s set for himself.

But damn if his recent breakup with Katelyn, who was supposed to be the love of his life, hasn’t hit him hard. And fuck if this man that took up residence next to him at the bar two hours ago isn’t infuriating enough to have Aaron’s pride on the fucking line here.

“You can’t take another,” snorts the asshole. Keegan. No, Kelvin. No…

“Fuck you, Kevin,” slurs Aaron, and feels the world spin a little, but the name is right. That’s right. Kevin Day. Some kind of sports guy, Aaron thinks he’s seen him on TV sometime or another. But that doesn’t mean shit for his ability to out-drink Aaron.

Aaron can so take another shot.

“Prove it,” Kevin sneers, and Aaron growls.

Aaron smacks the bar top, and the bartender, Roland, skeptically eyes them both, but Aaron’s a regular and they’re old friends, so Aaron merely has to glare back and gesture impatiently for Roland to slide another shot his way.

Aaron downs it without pause, and there’s laughter, hooting, from onlookers he didn’t know he had. He swallows against the burn and flicks a glance to more strangers, grinning and nodding at him, flashing thumbs up and pumping fists. He manages a jerky nod before spinning back to Kevin, swaying slightly. “I did it. Can you, big shot?”

Not the wittiest one liner he’s ever delivered, especially with all his syllables melding together as his mouth refuses to work with him, but Kevin also seems slightly off-balance as he turns to Roland, nodding for his next round.

“I absolutely should cut you both off before you start brawling,” sighs Roland, pouring another shot. “You’re lucky I’m an enabler.”

“Three more,” blurts Aaron, as Kevin gulps down his tiny glass. “Unless you can’t handle it.”

“You’re tiny, you’re the one who should be worried,” spits Kevin, though it’s hoarse through the alcohol.

“Oh my god,” Roland says, as he pours the shots and shoves them in front of them both, walking away with his hands up. “I’m done with you both for tonight.”

“Bet you you’ll still tap out before me,” Aaron says challengingly, narrowing his eyes up at Kevin, watching the too-tall man narrow his own green eyes back, the lights of the club catching on the tiny number 2 tattoo on his cheekbone, the tendrils of black hair springing free from his quiff. Aaron blinks away his wandering gaze, realizing Kevin is lifting another shot to his lips, and reaches to do the same, the fire of competition spurring him on.

The trickles of light and sound filter through warm, hazy drunkenness. Aaron is wrapped up in something skin-hot and sweat-sticky, hair between his fingers and another pair of lips melded to his and he cannot think, the wall unyielding at his back and the floor unreachable as his legs wrap around hips.

“Fuck,” mumbles a male voice, into his mouth, and Aaron hums in agreement, lazily tightening his hold and letting a hand fall down the back of his makeout partner, digging his fingernails into a crisp shirt and scratching.

The man — Aaron lets his eyes flutter open as the pair of them part for a moment of breath — Kevin, Kevin Day, shudders against him at the rough treatment and lets his head fall to where Aaron’s shoulder meets his neck, mouthing at the skin there, and Aaron responds with his own shiver.

He falls back into Kevin’s lips with a tug at his hair to drag him back up, and Aaron blacks back out at the kiss.

“We should get married.”

“That’s so stupid, that’s a terrible idea. Just because you’re hot doesn’t mean —”

“But you’re getting over your ex too. You know what would stick it to our exes? Getting fucking engaged.”

“You’re out of it, I can’t get publicly engaged to a man. I’d get os — ostra — I’d get bad press.”

“Fuck that, who cares. Buy me a ring, asshole, you’re rich.”

“Fuck, fine. Fine, I will, if you do that again.”

“Shit, Kevin.”

Aaron’s head pounds a terrible rhythm, and he thinks perhaps he attempted to drink sand last night. There’s no other way his mouth and throat would be this awful, gritty texture.

The nausea that hits a moment later threatens to bring up whatever he had last swallowed, and he spills out of bed to stumble-sprint to the toilet.

When he finally hobbles back to the bedroom with the speed of an especially slow zombie, he stops dead when he finds the form of another person burrowed into his pillow.

Kevin Day groans when Aaron pulls the pillow away from him, shielding his eyes from the bedroom light, and squints up at him like he, too, is not sure how he got there.

“A-Aaron?” he finally ventures.

“Congrats, you remember my fucking name. Get out of my bed.”

Kevin does not, in fact, get out of his bed, simply blinks down at his own shirtlessness, lifts the sheet to apparently check on whether he is wearing pants. (Aaron is suspiciously only in his boxers, and he suspects Kevin is too.) “What happened last night?”

“Guess I was stupid and lonely enough to bring you back to my apartment, for some reason.” Aaron rolls his eyes. Why he allowed himself to reach that drunken point in the first place is beyond him. He can’t remember the last time he allowed himself to actually check another man out, let alone…

He realizes suddenly that the terribly shrill ringing he’s heard several times now is his phone, muffled underneath fabric somewhere on the floor of his room. Someone’s calling him.

It takes him several minutes to find the source of the noise, but the mystery caller keeps redialing when the call drops. When Aaron recovers his phone, it’s with an awful sinking feeling that he sees TWIN MENACE blinking across the screen.

Andrew does not call him for no reason.

“Hello?” he mumbles into the phone, and there is an awful silence for a minute on Andrew’s end.

“Care to tell me, oh brother mine, what exactly happened that made you post what you did on Facebook last night?”

Aaron’s stomach drops yet lower. He feels dizzy. “What?”

“Nicky’s been calling you, and when you didn’t pick up, he started calling me. What the fuck did you do?”

“W-what did I do?” Aaron stabs the speakerphone button to pull his phone from his ear and navigate to Facebook. His notifications are blowing up, all over a photo he definitely doesn’t remember posting.

It takes a moment to load when he opens it, and the sound he makes when it does makes Kevin wince and cover his ears.

Kevin and Aaron are very deeply and disgustingly making out, and Aaron is holding a middle finger up to the camera. His left middle finger. And below that middle finger, a ring sits on his finger.

An engagement ring. That is still on his ring finger when Aaron looks down at it.

The caption reads, fuck y’all we’re getting married.

“You fucking proposed to me?” he yells at Kevin, who had been squinting one open eye at him, leaning forward to listen.

Kevin falls out of bed in a tangle of long limbs, with his own squawk. “What?”

“I have an engagement ring. I posted that we’re getting married. Oh my god.”

“Dumbass,” is barely audible from the phone speaker, and then the call disconnects.

“Wait,” Kevin mumbles, rubbing his head and trying to navigate sheets that are still wrapped around him. “Wait, no. You proposed to me. You started this. I know that much. I thought it was a bad idea.”

“Obviously not enough to not get me a ring.”

“Quiet,” Kevin pleads.

“What were we thinking?” Aaron tugs on his hair. He’s not sure how it took him so long to notice the ring’s presence in the first place, it feels unbearably heavy on his finger now.

“You wanted to get back at your ex. And mine. We both were upset about our breakups,” Kevin reasons out slowly, eyes fixing on nothing as he appears to search his memory. “We had a drinking competition, and then, we started dancing, and then venting about our exes, and then we started…making out. It gets pretty fuzzy, but. You said we should get married, I didn’t think so. But you, uh. Convinced me.”

“How do I delete this? Fuck.” The exponentially growing number of comments of absolutely everyone he knows on the Facebook post blurs in front of his eyes.

Whoa, that’s a surprise. Happy for you!

Who’s the fiancé???

Didn’t realize you were with this guy now. Congrats on the engagement!

Classmates, coworkers, distant family, and…

Aaron, what the fuck.

“Shitshitshitshit.”

Aaron throws the phone in a knee-jerk reaction, his brain narrowing to the tiny profile picture on the screen. Katelyn.

Kevin catches the phone in the same instinctive way, eyes wide as he stares at Aaron.

“She knows. She knows.”

“Who?”

“My ex, my… Katelyn. She saw. She’ll never take me back now. God, she thinks we’re…”

“Did you think she was going to?” Kevin asks incredulously. Like he fucking knows anything about Aaron and Katelyn’s relationship.

“She could have realized! That we were good! That she missed me! She could have —” Aaron’s throat closes over, and he realizes with horror that he is probably about to cry.

“Aaron.” Kevin still looks sickly pale, maybe a little green around the edges, but he nonetheless kind of crawls across Aaron’s bedroom floor to sit in front of him. Now that he’s extricated himself from the sheets, Aaron can see that he is indeed only wearing a very small pair of boxer-briefs. “She wasn’t going to. You were complaining about how your relationship had been, towards the end. It’s good you broke up.”

Aaron swallows back a lump in his throat and blinks away burning, shoving his fist into Kevin’s chest. “Shut up.”

Kevin looks down and takes Aaron’s fist in his own hands, uncurling it and contemplating the ring he’d apparently bought last night as he plays with Aaron’s fingers absently. “I miss my ex too. But she wasn’t good for me. We weren’t… it wasn’t very healthy, how we got together. And we didn’t know how to be healthy once we got out of that situation either.”

“Now look at us,” Aaron huffs sarcastically. “Oh-so-healthily drunk engaged.”

Kevin’s lips twitching into a involuntary smile is unexpectedly attractive, and the dark eyebrow he raises pulls a snort from Aaron that morphs into a giggle, and then Kevin snickers, and then they’re both laughing and staring at this fucking ridiculous ring that’s caused way too much trouble.

“It’s gaudy,” Aaron announces, when they’ve laughed themselves out. “You have no taste.”

“It’s expensive,” Kevin protests, immediately up in arms. “Look at how many diamonds there are.”

“Oh, of course you’d think bigger is better,” Aaron snarks, and Kevin glares at him, and Aaron shoves him back, raising his own eyebrows, but he can’t drop the grin curling across his face.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” Kevin returns, but before Aaron can toss one more flirty line thinly veiled as an insult back at him, another ringtone sounds from across the room.

Kevin turns toward the sound too fast and groans, hand lifting to his mouth queasily as he picks his way over to his own pants to fish out his phone. It cuts off just as he reaches it, but Kevin blinks down at his own screen, looking a little too off-balance.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks.

“I think I… I think I posted something too. Christ.”

“Oh, so it’s all fine and good by you that I posted something, but when you’re the one making a fool of yourself, you think —”

“I could lose my contract.”

Aaron blinks. “Right. Playing…”

Kevin looks scandalized. “Exy? Do you not even know?”

“Forgive me for not knowing every detail of my fiancé’s life when I met you last night and forgot more than I remember of our encounter.”

Kevin appears slightly dead inside, face lit by countless popups his eyes flick through on screen. “My team manager has been texting me. If I lose my spot, I’m —”

Aaron steps closer to peer at the texts, too. “Can they do that? That shouldn’t be allowed.”

Kevin turns a glazed gaze on him. “Exy is everything to me.”

Aaron feels a pang at the look, feels inexplicably compelled to fix it. “Well… we’re not even actually getting married, so it doesn’t matter, right? Just tell them that. Who cares?”

“It may be too late,” Kevin says in a terrible, numb voice, and Aaron is suddenly very deeply determined that it will not be too late to save his poor, sports-obsessed, asshole sort-of-fake fiancé’s career or so help him God.

“Give me that.”

“What are you doing?” Kevin asks helplessly as Aaron clicks through the frantic texts from Manager to the contact information.

“Setting the record straight,” Aaron says firmly, and hits the call button.

You can find more AFTG fics on my AO3, ihaveacleverfandomurl, linked in my bio!

#kevaaron #aaron minyard #kevin day #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg #tfc #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court fanfic #fanfic #andrew minyard #kay fanfic #kaystuff

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cottage-babe · 5 years ago

Text

Bolin x pro-bender!Reader

Masterlist

here... take this bolin headcannon... just take it

i feel like there’s not nearly enough bolin stuff and since i’m almost finished w LOK, i guess ill aid this deficiency :)

also, i just started Book 3, so if theres some things that aren’t right or something, ignore it

___

Bolin HC (during Book 1/Book 2)

so you guys met at (you guessed it) a pro-bending match

you were an Earthbender for the Ba Sing Se Badgermoles, a widely known team because you guys represented such a big city and you guys were actually kinda good

the Badgermoles were constantly interviewed, put on the covers of magazines, and bombarded by fans. The people loved you and your team

and so the day came where the Badgermoles were put up against the Fire Ferrets

you had heard about this team a lot; how they lost a member of the team, then the Avatar, actual master of the elements, filled in that empty space

it honestly took you so long to process

anyways, your team didn’t get the chance to meet the Fire Ferrets before the match; you just threw on all of your gear and made your way to the play area

you saw the Ferrets and instantly saw Avatar Korra, the only girl on the team

honestly, you couldnt see her well, but she was so pretty

anyways

the battle started and the Badgermoles got the advantage pretty quick

you took out their firebender and was working on the earthbender while the rest of team handled the Avatar

the earthbender put up a huge fight, it was so impressive

he even knocked you back a zone, but you recovered and, with a streak of luck, knocked him straight out of the field

you guys won that round

the next round didn’t go so well

the fire ferrets managed to knock all three of you guys off the platform, resulting in a win and a knock out

this meant that the entire match went to the Fire Ferrets

the other members on your team were annoyed and angry, but you weren’t phased too much

after all, Ba Sing Se treated you all extremely nicely, whether you win or not

so after the game, your team found themselves walking through the Fire Ferret’s locker room so you could leave

after your team mates walked past, you stayed behind and talked to one of the Ferrets, the Earthbender

“Hey, you were really good out there.”

you took off your helmet, just like in the movies, and he swore time slowed

he just stood there, completely frozen with his mouth agape

you raised an eyebrow at his antics and it wasn’t until Avatar Korra slapped him on the back that he came back to

“You- good- were good, uh im- im Bolin.”

you just laughed at Bolin and smiled

“My names Y/n”

you walked up close to him, noses inches apart

“And next time, we won’t lose.”

he just gulped and nodded him head

you turned and walked out, laughing quietly to yourself

the interaction boosted your mood up exponentially

anyways timeskip to when their looking for the airbenders

you were just chilling in Ba Sing Se in the upper ring

you and your team were given super nice houses since you were the city’s pride and joys

then suddenly, you see Bolin and his brother walking around calling for someone

“Bolin? is that you?”

that boy turned around so fast

he blushed so brightly when he saw you and kinda looked at his brother for help

“well, well, what are the Fire Ferrets doing in my city? you know.. i’ve been dying for a rematch!”

you were only joking of course

you knew that their team had broken up after the year you met Bolin

not that you were keeping tabs on their team

of course

“yeah not right now, we’re looking for someone” his brother said

“oh? need some help?”

it took some time to convince Mako, the brother, but eventually you annoyed him enough to let you join

you were all walking through the upper ring looking for some kid named Kai, but you weren’t really paying attention

you maybe, kinda, might only be there so you could hang out with Bolin

from what you had heard (once again, you definitely weren’t searching for info), Bolin was an outgoing, loud guy

now he was quieter than a mouse

“So, i heard you were making movers now. What, getting tired of being a Pro-Bender?”

“Huh? No. I still play! I’m just doing this until the season starts...”

you were visibly happier after hearing that

you had thought that acting was going to be his permanent thing from now on

but still one thing plagued your mind

“And whats that princess girlfriend of yours gonna think about it? Ginger, I think her name was.”

Spirits you had done wayyyy too much research on this man

to be fair, you didn’t think you’d see him ever again

he blushed and stuttered out something about how they weren’t really dating, how it was a publicity stunt, blah blah

you weren’t really paying attention because after hearing his availability, you decided that today was the day you were gonna make a move on him

if it fails, then you don’t really have much to worry about; he lives in an entirely different city and you would only have to see him once a year

but if it succeeds; ohohohoh you’d finally get to live out your crush

the pros really outweighed the cons right now

so you guys searched for Kai for a while more

you decided that you were going to make some subtle hints toward Bolin

you let your hand brush against his a couple times, but never really looked up to see his reaction

then, you guys found Kai

he was stealing some old guy’s money by... airbending? why does this day just keep getting weirder?

so you guys chase him down an the streets and eventually follow him onto a train

unfortunately, he tricks you and sends you guys all the way to the lower ring

you used to live here when you were younger, before you became a Pro-Bender, and it wasn’t a nice place

only now, it seemed to have gotten worse

all of you tried to find a way to get on a train back to the upper ring, but none of you had your passports or any money

if only you hadn’t left your house in such a hurry

you even tried to pull the “im a Pro-Bender!” card, but it didnt work

so you guys stayed on the streets for the day

Bolin was really trying to lighten the situation up, but it wasn’t really working

“C’mon guys! Korra will realize that we’re gone and then come rescue us! I know it!”

she did not come

eventually, they had to find a place to sleep and no where was letting the stay for free

so they found a place in an alley and slept on the floor

yup, the dirty floor

you were not used to this

you almost wanted to stay up for the whole night to avoid sleeping on the ground, but Bolin assured her that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed

it was

“mmm here! you can use my jacket.”

he took off his jacket and laied it out on the floor neatly before gesturing for you to lay there

you hesitated for a second before sitting, not really putting up much of a fight because of how tired you were

Mako was already asleep somewhere across the alley and Bolin began gathering up some papers to use as blanket

then he found a spot somewhere away from you and started to settle down

“hey Bolin? do you maybe wanna share the jacket?”

he looked up so quickly and even the soft light from the lamp post caught his blush

“uhh sure”

and so he came over and laid halfway on the jacket so that you could take up most of it

he even offered you some of his picked up trash to use as a blanket, but you grimaced at the grossness and shook your head

you turned away from him, not wanting to be too overwhelmed by his proximity, so you didn’t notice that Bolin was staring at you

before you could completely fall asleep, a cool breeze burst threw the alley way and you began to shiver

maybe you should’ve accepted his paper

“hey Y/n you awake?”

since you were currently bouncing between consciousness, you decided not to answer

you feel him scoot closer

“okay please dont be mad at me when you wake up”

then you felt his arm cover your cold skin and warm you instantly

Spirits, he should be a firebender with how warm he was

you scooted back to meet his chest and let him envelope you

you fell asleep so quick

both of you woke up to Mako above you speaking loudly

“hey lovebirds, wake up”

since you already know of the position you were in, you didn’t really jump back with the surprise that Bolin had

“S-Sorry Y/n! You just looked so cold last night that I-”

“its fine Bolin” you smiled at him “and thank you”

spirits he was so cute

and so you guys went on with the day, thinking about stealing food, then meeting their long lost family

it was such a nice reunion

they talked a bit about their family history, but since you felt out of place, you settled for playing with the babies on the floor

you bended little toys out of rocks and watched as some tried the same

it was so cute

meanwhile, Bolin was having a little dilemma

he and Mako had just finished having a heartfelt conversation with his Grandma and now he walks out here to see you playing with little babies and laughing with them

you were just so cute

“you know she likes you too right?”

“huh?! what- staring? im not staring.”

Mako just sighed because wow his baby brother is so dumb

“just talk to her before we leave Ba Sing Se”

and so they got their passports and left to the Upper Ring

you were so excited to go back home and sleep in a real bed

but you had one more thing to do before all of that

“So uh Bolin”

“So uh Y/n”

you guys spoke at the same time

“Oh! you can go first”

once again at the same time

“listen Y/n, I think you’re really pretty and super strong, like you could beat me up if you wanted to and i think thats really cool.” *cue your confused stare* “um anyways what I meant to say was, I think I’m about to fight the queen of Ba Sing Se and if I make it out alive, do you think we could hang out? like just us two?”

you decided to ignore some parts of what he said because umm you can only handle so many things at once

you settled for kissing his cheek and confessing too

you went back home so excited

even tho your crush was about to commit treason <3

aww the two of you are so cute I can’t

#bolin x reader #lok #bolin #legend of korra

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ephemerlskies · 5 years ago

Text

the lighthouse | jjk

⇢ pairing: reader x jungkook

⇢ genre: one shot, fluff (what's new), strangers to "lovers", mutual pining, so much sap you're gonna have to shower after reading this, ANGST, jungkook is a literary scholar (?) of sorts

⇢ word count: 12k

⇢ warnings: as stated before, it's Cheesy with a capital C, lots of introspection, brief mentions of death, explicit language, mommy issues, (((major plot twist)))

⇢ summary: you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled. was this going to be another disappointing chapter in the book of unattainable desires or could your encounter with the mysterious man who lived in the lighthouse lead to something much more?

a/n: i'm super proud of how this turned out even though it ripped my heart out of my chest... this was probably my favorite fic to write and ahh im so happy to release it!!!! i hope you lovely little angels enjoy!! :) <3

What makes us human? This question posed by your philosophy teacher had been stalking your thoughts hours after class had ended. As the rain padded against your umbrella, you piled in a few answers to this question.

What makes us human? A question that would seemingly have a clear cut answer, but when you got down to it, there was no distinct characteristic that differentiates humans from other animals. It was easy to say something such as how we have complex linguistics or industrialized civilization, but that is to discredit how the packs of wolves howl to each other, the birds sing from tree to tree, the beavers diligently construct their dams, or the dirt cities in which ants build their own societies not much different than humans.

You pondered the idea that we love so deeply, even when it is often unreturned, but there is no denying the way a mother bear strikes down any and all enemies to protect her baby cub is anything other than true love.

So, what makes us human? You sat on a bench placed on the sidelines where you could witness small scenes of the lives of passing strangers. This sonder might be what makes us human. The knowledge that each person lives and loves and cries and fears and speaks and dies in ways with which you will never begin to familiarize. Life continues on around you despite how unimportant it may seem to the rest.

Does a lion waste any moment of his time wondering how the deer had found its way to the shallow pond, whilst preparing to strike? Of course not.

You watched a couple clinging onto each other and wondered where they met. You then were captured in the peace of an old woman prodding around in the grass with her golden retriever; perhaps it was her last companion. Then, your eyes drifted towards the two boys pushing each other over but with the gentleness one could only assume that was out of friendship or perhaps brotherhood.

And then you saw him.

Gentle fingers tracing the stacks of magazines lined in a perfect column; an arm that disappeared into the sleeve of his dark, wool coat. A tweed newsboy hat sheltering his eyes, and deep chestnut Oxford shoes stepping lightly, nearing a tiptoe, between the cracks of each cement plate, weathered by the infinite other shoes that tread on those very grounds. A body so magnetizing and moving as if it were a secret, and you couldn’t imagine why no one else had been ingested by the enigma that is this man. You longed for him to reveal these secrets that hid underneath his hat and coat, though if he wouldn’t, which he most likely wouldn’t, you had no problem with seeking them out yourself.

In a city filled with young souls draped in modern streetwear, jeans, bright colors, and converse or Dr. Martens or perhaps high heels, catching this needle in the haystack plugged into every synapse of wonderment. The muted tones of his clothing gleamed the brightest out of the sea of strangers.

This is what made you human. Your desire to know everything that lies barely beyond your wingspan. Everything you could hold was close to nothing in meaning, and everything your arms could not reach was always all you could ever want. The rise of your legs, the way you replicated his every movement, running your fingers along the stack of magazines, fastidious prancing in the spaces between the cracks, and your subtle pursuit of the man just out of reach was what made you human.

Bodies bustling through your path failed to untether you from this chase. It felt far beyond your power to stop yourself from the rising excitement and allure in your chest that pulled you towards him. The man was quick and swift to dodge oncoming bystanders, however your eyes became a missile fixed on a target.

The unexpected turn he took had you floundering for you had been trapped behind an older lady and a couple walking side by side. Sadly, your memorization of the streets and landmarks had been admisal, so you found yourself in uncharted territory. Each road sign and corner store had been displayed like a foreign language, and you mentally cursed yourself for letting your silly lust for learning what shouldn’t be learned lead you into this difficult position.

You stood defeated, the man had evaded your fragile trail behind him with ease. You lost him, or maybe he got away.

It was still midday, prompting you to make an end of this means. Your eyes discovered the coast set along the edge of the town, and though this was the furthest you had ever gone, you dared to go further. This mishap of yours granted you the opportunity to introduce yourself to the shore, and the waves have always delighted your interest. So, you found it just to walk down to the sand. The sound of the water pressing into the wet sand was calming; it was something you could find yourself getting used to. Luck presented itself kindly, giving you a moment unencumbered by the rain that had ceased not long after you stepped foot on the beach.

You took this time to be with yourself and sort out all the problems that have been worrying your mind these past few weeks. Your best friend, Chaeyoung, had an upcoming birthday that had snuck up on you before you had the chance to even think about getting her a card, let alone a gift or celebration. And you would be disappointed with yourself if you failed to outdo last year’s efforts. There was also the test in your Chemistry class scheduled only a day after her birthday, curtailing your plans of staying out late because there was no way you would allow for anything less than your very most on this exam. Then, there was the essay on what makes us human that you denied any chance of regaining priority to your list of worries, knowing it would gnaw at your mind until you forcibly shut it out.

And the man that willed you to seek him out, and that wore the title of his stories as if he intentionally wished to spark your wonder to learn them.

That should have been the last of your worries. It should have been.

The day began to fade into a warm, orange dusk. Skies once gloomy and grey now covered in blankets of clouds reflecting the sun’s gentle rays and you found yourself reunited with the calming feeling similar to when you first stepped on the beach.

Not long after registering how far you had traveled along the shore, you noticed a quaint lighthouse with a house-like structure at the base. The off-white stones cemented up until a red paneled roof covered it, tempting you to know what lies behind those walls.

It looked like it was about to rain again.

Are lighthouses closed off from the public?

There’s a house, there must be someone inside that could help me find my way home.

All these comments to yourself made to premise the conclusion of entrance into this lighthouse. As you approached the door, framed in oak lining and painted red, the clouds appeared heavy once again. A few drops of condensation was enough persuasion that what was about to be done was for the good of your well being. You pushed it open and a creak echoed around the room inside.

The walls were covered with stone bricks and there was one table in the center of the room. Other than that, this house was barren and if it weren’t for the second door that you guessed led to the lighthouse you would have called a car to take you home.

Your walk was pensive and mouse-like; there was some quality about this structure that made you feel like you weren’t alone and sudden movements would disrupt an established peace. Your hand turned the cold, gold-plated handle and pulled open the door, soon being met with a warm gust of air that engulfed you into the lighthouse.

This part of the building was exponentially more decorated than the room that preceded it. A staircase cemented into the sides of the lighthouse plastered with shelves upon shelves of books spiraled along the cylindrical walls, paired with dull lanterns that illuminated each level of railing had you drawn into its magnificence.

You stared up to what looked like a platform that held a place in which one would rest and look out into the ocean. There was no one in sight, and you assumed permission to climb up the staircase. Your eyes scanned each spine, creased and slightly warped from the moisture of the air, like they had been read over and over again. Your breath became heavy and your stare was focused on the books to ignore the dizziness settling in.

Reaching the top of the staircase came as a blessing, your lungs were close to catching fire. There were two armchairs, side by side, one fashioned a knitted blanket and the other was used as a table for five to seven or so novels, and the walls behind buried in high stacks of more books. There had to be at least seventy in the first half of piles you accounted for, and before you had the chance to snoop around the rest of the room you heard a voice coated with alarm behind you.

“What are you doing in here?” Your breath halted as you turned around, about to explain why you had let yourself into this building, however no amount of words could fully justify this invasive act.

You recognized the wool coat and the tweed hat now resting in his hand instead of on his head. His eyes were shrouded in a youthful innocence despite his attire that implied he was a sophisticate of some sort.

“Are you going to answer me or do I have to call the police?” The boom of his voice was chilling, sending shivers along your neck and chest.

“Sorry, I’m-” How could you possibly defend your intrusion without sounding juvenile or absolutely insane? “I was… It was raining and I just was walking on the beach so-”

“So, you decided breaking and entering was better than getting a little wet?” His barbed responses hurdled how you plaintively stuttered around excuses. Despite his efforts to seem menacing, you couldn't let go of his boyish facial features. It was absolutely astonishing to you that someone who looked young enough to attend your own college and handsome enough to garner quite a bit of attention had anything to do with this dingy, aged lighthouse.

“No, I was going to come in here to ask for directions. I’m lost.” The pitiful temperament of this comment was not intentional, but the man who now stood in front of you felt itched by it. He couldn't ignore how your legs trembled, partly from the cold but also because of his raised voice directed at you, and how that admittedly aroused some guilt.

“It’s fine. Just-” He sighed deeply, placing his hat on the side table adjacent to the left armchair, “You can just wait here until the rain stops. Though, I have to say it looks unrelenting at the moment.” The man’s attention was captured by how the heavy rain seemed to wage war against the raging tides. You caught a glimpse of a smile. The slightest upturn of the corner of his lips almost compelling you to reveal you had spotted him in the town earlier today, and that you found yourself enamoured with his every movement, and he was ironically the reason you were stuck here.

“Are you sure? I can go, I shouldn't have been here in the first place.” The words escaped from your mouth quickly as if they were trying to race each other to be spoken.

“No, I said it’s fine.” The suddenness of this offer hushed you. He then removed his wool coat, unveiling the clothes he wore beneath it. The burgundy crew neck sweater layered tastefully over a collared shirt was just as old fashioned as every other article of clothing he sported. How intriguing.

“I'm sorry.” Your muscles grew sore from suppressing how aggressively you would have been shaking from the cold. “Thank you.” Him granting you shelter gave you motive to keep the umbrella that would suffice to protect you from the rain under wraps. The option he presented was far more favorable.

“Sit down. Please, use this blanket.” He gestured towards the throw draped over the right armchair. His eyes avoided you as much as he could manage though you had this glow emulating from your wanting eyes and soft looking skin that crept to the corner of his vision too brightly to ignore. Consequently, this comment soothed both your body and mind for he unguarded a kindness that was hidden when he first spoke to you.

“My name is ___.” He was facing the window that displayed the sea, now thrashing and falling into itself, and without moving his head, his eyes drifted towards you.

“I know who you are.”

“Wh- How?” Maybe accepting an invite in a secluded lighthouse on the beach wasn’t the safest thing you could be doing on a Friday afternoon. Anxiety pioneered a place in your breathing, turning it rushed and choked.

Before your mind could theorize all the ways in which you could make an escape from this room or how quickly you could use your hidden umbrella as a weapon he said, “I noticed you following me in the town’s square earlier today.” You sighed, releasing the terror that pricked your lungs. If anything, it was he who should be afraid of you.

“I’m not a stalker!” That weak defense was all you could push from your throat before any well constructed explanations could be put forth.

His laugh, along with his cryptic gaze towards the waves, made you feel even worse about your actions.

“You were just so stunning and I wanted to know what kind of person still wears a newsboy hat without trying to make a statement.” Your lower lip tucked between your teeth stopped the nervous laugh about to spill and expressed worry that the more you tried to explain yourself, the more this man believed you should be charged for stalking not to mention trespassing.

“Stunning?”

“I mean, like, someone I’d want to meet.”

“What were you planning on doing once I stopped somewhere, or noticed you?” He questioned you only because he relished how you were scrambling to a proper defense. He knew you weren’t any threat to him, not many people were, however he enjoyed your chatter more than the silence that would have taken its place.

“I don't know, maybe just… introduce myself?” This sheepish, yet honest, reply had you drowning in humiliation, while the man before you seemed as if he were floating effortlessly along the surface.

“I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Relief replaced the worry that he would turn you away, leaving you to the hands of the storm outside. The fact that any other person would have done so led you to believe Jungkook held a lot more compassion than he let on. You held your hand to greet him, finding it only polite to execute this formality. His, however, remained folded behind his back, notably denting your ego as you retracted your hand quicker than you extended it.

“Okay.” You muttered to yourself in slight embarrassment from this trivial rejection. “So, do you live here or something?” Your question was first replied to with a breath of annoyance. Jungkook was kind enough to allow you a sanctuary from the rain, exemption from the intrusion and stalking, and now he found himself having to entertain you.

“Yeah, something like that.” All this disinterested answer did was persist your attempts to break his catatonic gaze. However, his reserve had been solidified steadily over the years, so this venture was going to be tough.

“I didn’t know you could live in a lighthouse?” Your inquiry was spoken with the hopes this would ignite a lasting conversation.

“It’s not a lighthouse, technically.” Jungkook’s affirmative tone flew right over your head, conjuring even more annoyance that oddly enticed him to continue responding to your dense questions.

“Well, it looks like a lighthouse. It’s shaped like a lighthouse. It’s on the beach, just like a lighthouse.” A chuckle joined the sigh of his breath and his head that shook at your shallow observations. Jungkook eventually turned around and made his way towards the stacks of books, trying to preoccupy himself from whatever this exchange was. “All signs point to this being a lighthouse.”

“Well, it’s not. Lighthouses are meant to send signals to the ships out at sea. This doesn't,” His curt response tickled your amusement, only encouraging you to further aggravate him. “Therefore, not a lighthouse.”

“Okay,” You sounded agreeable, but this was soon followed by a doubtful comment whispered just loud enough for Jungkook’s ear to catch it, “It’s a lighthouse.” He found his stoicism melting away due to your spiteful attitude and conniving giggle in the face of his frustration. You wanted to get a rise out of him, and he knew this, and you were doing a fine job at it.

“It’s not-” His voice elevated with excitement, but he soon tamed the defensiveness threatening to spill from his lips, “Do you want to go back out into the rain?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Though, you sounded all but remorseful. The sly smirk resting on your face matched Jungkook’s satisfied expression, despite these smiles surfacing for different reasons. You couldn’t deny how humorous it was to distemper this man. How all the worries you laid out like the pebbles and seashells on this beach were washed away by the tides. Meanwhile, his grin provided little contribution in masking his enjoyment of your company and relentless curiosity.

You now sat in the right armchair, bundled in the blanket. It was not necessarily a thick blanket, but the chills once disturbing you had dwindled almost immediately. You were still entranced by Jungkook's movements. His hands were now occupied with a book from one of the stacks he’d been eyeing; the way he cradled the book like it was a newborn baby further revealed he had a somewhat protective attitude towards them.

“What are you reading?” His eyes remained between the pages and lines of the book, but his focus was yet again thieved by your incessant curiosity. Jungkook thought it irritating similarly to how one would find a cat disrupting their owner from work, annoying yet ever so endearing, and adorably distracting.

“I’m not reading, I’m being bothered by you.” His snark was meant to damage your brazen pestering, but unknown to him it merely fueled it.

“Boohoo.” No matter how elementary that retort was, you still managed to fever him and hold hostage his attention.

“I’m reading The Odyssey.” Jungkook surrendered to you, placing the book on his lap that was now sitting in the armchair next to yours. “Why do you ask so many questions?” His eyes laid on you the same way they laid on the sea, filled to the brim with fascination.

“I just wanted to know what you were reading.” Even when he expressed a clear indication that he was past your nonsense, it went unnoticed like the particles of dust flitting around the darkened room. This oblivion of yours prompted your next question. “Could you read it to me?”

His eyebrows furrowed at this request. Jungkook had already found himself exhausted by your persistence, and predicted ‘no’ would not be accepted as a viable answer. He just sighed and began to read aloud.

His soft voice somehow drowned out the sea’s commotion. The words flowed off his tongue as if he wrote the book himself; such poise for a young man lured you to immerse yourself in his narration and time grew more and more abstract.

After a bit, Jungkook paused to examine how you'd received his reading and he was pleased to find your chin resting in your palm and your eyes and ears fixed onto him as if he were reading the gospel. This made it difficult, impossible, to deny entry for the subtle blush working its way on his cheeks.

“Are you satisfied?” He closed the book, peering out of the window to check if the weather had eased since you arrived. Though the intensity of the storm hadn’t lightened in the slightest, there was a new tranquility adopted by the drizzling sky waters that sank and fed into the waves.

“Never.” You replied with a hungered conviction twisted into your words, “What happens next?”

Jungkook laughed in shock of how eager you were to hear more of this story. It was unlike someone who wasn’t well versed in literature to genuinely enjoy listening to this archaic novel.

“Why are you laughing? Read more!” Your whine came off a bit childlike, but succeeded in its goal.

“It’s getting late.” He commented with a gentle sternness, though he proceeded to reopen the book. Your peculiar attention naturally drew him to oblige your desires. Even in the midst of a storm, even as the hours slipped by and the evening had been born, he continued to read.

You settled back into your chair in rejoice that you’d get to spend a bit more time with Jungkook. He was practically a stranger, and still there was a climate of comfort and intimacy that took the place of the crisp, winter air when he read from his book. He felt it too, and that was reason enough to allow you this company.

Throughout the chapter he had been working to finish, he snuck glances to find your eyes growing heavy with sleep as each page turned. Jungkook halted from reading and was trapped in the flush of your cheeks and lips and how your mouth hung slightly ajar as you inhaled the cold, wet air of the lighthouse. The puffs of breath that billowed from your lips had him yearning to know a warmth so full with life and curiosity.

“Are-” Jungkook tensed at the idea of disturbing your sleep, as if you hadn’t barged into his life without a hint of permission. “Are you asleep?”

Your head lifted slowly, then held stiff to maintain consciousness, “I was just resting my eyes. I’m not tired, I want you to read more.” You said this in spite of knowing you would drift asleep if he did.

“I think we are done reading for now.” The book closed for the last time, his hands pressing against the cover to seal his assurance. “You should head home.”

“But, I don’t know how the book ends.” This weak argument came from a place of jaded desperation. Regardless, he almost fell victim to your subdued urgency but any sensibility he could garner warned him not to allow this. You were quite obviously tired and he prefered you be safe in your own bed before the night advanced.

“Well, that’s because I only just started this book and it is very, very long.” Jungkook hoped this would usher you out even if that meant the return of loneliness would seep between the pillows of the right armchair after you left him with his solitude.

“Well, I won’t be able to get these questions out of my mind unless I finish the book.” Another weak argument drained from your inventory of excuses. Maybe a change of subject would present an opportunity to linger in his company. “Also, why do you live here all alone?”

“I just do. I feel like I don’t have to explain this to you.” Jungkook was bewildered at his admission to give you, an unannounced and uninvited visitor, any explanations and still he was close to doing exactly that. “You’re quite invested in my personal life.” As much as that was true, his withdrawal from your curiosity wasn't all that effortful. Living in secrecy and desolation had the feeling of companionship nearly vanishing from his memory and you reunited him with that warmth. And, he had not realized how it had nearly been forgotten or how much he missed it until he finally felt it again.

“You seem like someone who has better things to attend to.” The lament that stained his words bore such heartache that was soon displaced in your chest.

“No, no. My life is boring, and I don’t know. What person wouldn’t be interested in the personal life of a hermit who lives in a lighthouse?” You stood and paced around the platform towering over the swirling bookshelves below, towering over what felt like the entire world with Jungkook. The end of the blanket trailed your footstep as your drooping eyes skimmed the multicolored novels which were remarkably arranged alphabetically by author. How he had the time or patience to organize the hundreds of books he owned was beyond your comprehension. Every detail you acquired from Jungkook was stored in a compartment of your heart, almost as if it were assigned by fate. They were told in riddles and secrets and everything else meant to be deciphered.

“Not a hermit, and not a lighthouse. I couldn’t imagine someone like you being bored with your life.” His voice had become welcoming, with a hint of genuine interest, and this transition felt imminent ever since you first introduced yourself. The tilt of your head signified your agreement with his last statement and implied there was something that bothered you about this truth.

“Someone like me?”

“Someone like you. Curious, young with your whole life ahead of you. It's hard to believe you should be bored with that.”

“You say that as if you aren't the same age as me.” Jungkook shrugged lazily and scuffed his shoes against the rug as he now stood against the window sill, observing your interest of his books.

“I shouldn’t be a lot of things, and yet I am all those things. Bored, curious, and I’m here talking to a complete stranger that totally has the capability to murder me like in those movies instead of going back home.” Your comment that snuck out had wrested a soft chuckle from Jungkook. They were absentmindedly thrown into the air that filled the space between you and him, nurturing his reciprocated fascination with you. Your diligent grazing of each book had distracted how the weight of your eyelids heavied by the minute.

“It’s not like I don’t have great people in my life or a quality education that takes up most of my time, I just,” Your brief pause was to turn your attention over to Jungkook, who did not hide how he was listening intently to these confessions, alleviating from a place in need of emptying. His eyebrow was arched in a manner that jolted you back to your senses. You’d revealed one too many privacies to someone who you had been acquainted with only hours ago. Mortification would have bathed your body if not for the way Jungkook seemed to strongly engage with your openness.

“You just?” He staged his interest overtly to correct the imbalance of how your genuinity left you hanging lower than him on the emotional scale. Jungkook believed that was the least he could do to mitigate the embarrassment about to silence you.

“Uh, I just never seem to be satisfied with what I have. And that makes me seem like a greedy, spoiled child which makes me even more frustrated with myself.” You admitted, pulling the blanket over your shoulders tighter as if that would shield you from the compromising guilt slithering out of your body. “And that’s how I see myself. Ungrateful and spoiled.” This certainly scraped the barrel of your deep rooted disgust with yourself.

“Not spoiled, just lost.” His response felt like a soft and thoughtful embrace, granted that this was meant to ease the tinge of reproach in your heart. The words he spoke caressed your cheeks and told you that every horrid thing you thought of yourself was flawed.

“I’ve certainly been in your position.” He euphemized what he really wanted to say to you, that he saw himself in you. Even though you spoke very little on this, he felt himself living every experience you alluded to as if he had been right beside you your whole life. Or rather that you had witnessed his life and suffered identical desires and grievances and adversities and were simply retelling his story down to the most intricate detail; and somehow you made it sound brand new and a thousand times more aching. He was stranded in a state of amazement, ambushed by your pain and how even in moments of emotional destitution, you were unquestionably beautiful.

Likewise, this stranger, who was no longer estranged, and his kind words nearly compensated for the billions of people you could never meet, all the dreams you wanted but could never alter into incarnation, and all the disappointments that plagued your heart.

And you felt held by his words, his voice, him.

“You’ve been in my position?” You requested confirmation.

“I was. Certainly.” And he confirmed.

“Where are you now?” In turn, you wanted this to suggest, ‘where can I find you?’

This question carried profound sentiment on both the giving and receiving end of it. To you, this yearned for advice. Any piece of wisdom would gladly, gratefully be accepted to ease this rampage of constant dissatisfaction. To him, it resurfaced a series of speculations long undisturbed until you had asked this question; a place intentionally void of all attention because it was sometimes too grim to remember. A haze of difficulty crowded a definite answer, though he knew there was one. He couldn’t place his finger on a fitting response and found himself next to you in search of the answer.

Where are you now?

This haunted his mind for a bit, leaving him speechless and albeit impressed, for once, by your curiosity.

“It’s hard to say. Somewhere in between, I suppose.” Whatever meaning this carried did not resonate as sound to you. The mere idea of being on the end of perpetual longing, waiting for a clear path to the end that promised fulfillment, made it implausible to settle on being somewhere in between the two. Again, you were left unsatisfied and feeling a burden placing itself on your shoulders and wallowing a fit of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook noticed how your eyes fell from his, down to the maroon accents of the rug, and felt out of place. Out of place, in his own lighthouse, all because your gaze and attention he’d grown used to in this short time wasn’t directed at him.

“That’s the kind of ambiguity that leaves me so hungry.” He nodded in agreeance with the twisted cruelty of his response you had pointed out. Jungkook didn’t know how or why he’d come to turn every corner and check each crevasse to find what could settle your appetite. This whole time, though, he sailed through this painstaking search without a trace of uncertainty. His illusion of disinterest and annoyance soon dissolved into the floor that your eyes hadn’t strayed from.

“Maybe if I lived in a quaint, not-lighthouse I would be satisfied with that answer, but I don’t. I live a normal, normal, normal life.” The repetition of your words stressed your fatigue of this dullness, your desire for everything just inches away from your fingertips.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a normal life. I think it’s wrong that we have put the idea of drama and excitement on a pedestal.” This outlook, unlike the last, did gain traction in stripping the thick ambiguity around Jungkook’s mind. To your surprise, you could be satisfied with the small pieces of this man’s mystery being chipped bit by bit.

He was well aware of his deep rooted appreciation that accompanied your eyes as it moved towards him once again. There was some sense of purposefulness in this glance that demoted his callousness to tender captivation.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“I have a hard time believing you only have one more question.” His doubtfulness didn’t seem to discourage you, or him.

“For real! Only one more, it’s important.” The only way to prove whether or not this question was truly important was for you to ask it. His head nodded his approval.

“What do you think makes us human?” Before he could answer, a swell of perplexity had overtaken his thoughts on this. You could tell, out of everyone, Jungkook would have a profound answer that could save you hours of contemplation over your philosophy essay’s prompt.

“That’s an interesting question.”

“An interesting question in need of an answer.” You prodded him for his response, though this was pointless if there was no response that could possibly be constructed. Not a response of reason that you seemed to require, but of feeling. Like an instinct, and that in itself made it inapplicable to this question.

“Ask me again some other time. I don’t know if the answer is that simple.”

But, of course, it was. The answer, in his eyes, was blindingly clear.

“I’ll hold you to that!” He gladly took accountability for that commitment. An unfamiliar contentment with the unknown had lodged in your chest when the promise of spending time together emerged through the once conditional circumstances. The promise that transformed those conditional circumstances to voluntary acts.

This humbling discovery left a wide grin on your face, beaming directly towards Jungkook.

Jungkook peered over to the antique clock placed on a shelf next to the window. The aversion of his eyes was to save face from how your soft smile that projected praise and attachment had effectively unnerved him; he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his fingers that twitched out of pure elation.

The hour hand stationed on the twelve carved in roman numerals verified how his company had erased any discern for the hours that passed. They had floated away so silently, slowly that you could have sworn time froze altogether.

“Oh shit, it’s midnight? Fuck me.” The decibels of your voice boomed against the walls, it could have shaken the stacks of books down to a pile of mess. “I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t even realize it was so late.” You unraveled yourself from the blanket and collected your belongings in a bit of a frenzy.

“It’s alright. I, um, I had a nice time.” He distanced himself from you swiftly as you dashed across the room to the edge of the stairs. Even in a hurried state, you still looked back to him and offered a smile, unsure if that was enough to suffice for a proper gesture of gratitude.

“Me too.” The words were close to inaudible, but you knew he heard them loud and clear, along with the string of implications that were laced in them.

“Oh and by the way, make good use of that umbrella. It looks like it could start raining again.” Your ears felt engorged with flames when he’d revealed his knowledge of your little secret. It was foolish of you to believe you could outsmart Jungkook because what you thought obscure was well within his range of astuteness and the umbrella, still damp from the rain, was apparent from the beginning.

You didn’t catch how he’d been smiling when you turned away bashfully, strutting down the stairs in an attempt to portray false confidence. But if you did, you would have picked up on his mutual indulgence in your visit, the absolute bliss laden in his eyes. You grasped tightly to the joy evoked from the thought of seeing him again, however your nerves held a tighter grasp that did not allow you to express this to him. Perhaps your giggles of excitement, surely heard by Jungkook, spilling from your throat as you rushed out the empty room or the way you clutched your umbrella to your chest in admittance you had purposefully kept that fact from him would give Jungkook a clue of how thankful you were to meet him. And even more so to be able to see him again.

As you parted from the lighthouse that was not a lighthouse, something in between, you felt that the comfort you once had taper off with the growing distance from the not-lighthouse. You were fraught with a gentle yearning to turn back, run up the spiraling stairs, settle yourself back into the right armchair, and ask humbly to stay a while longer.

Little did you know, Jungkook’s hopes coincided with yours like two concentric circles.

(One week later)

If it wasn’t the question left unanswered that motivated you, it was the fact that you missed the view of the beach from the window. Or maybe it was the countless supply of book titles that you didn’t get to finish inspecting. Perhaps it was that you missed how the soft blanket complimented the feathery cushion of the right armchair.

Any of these excuses could be suited to explain how you rushed through the town, determined, goal-oriented and passing down streets now ingrained in your memory, with a destination clear in mind.

But it definitely couldn't be how dearly you missed the sound of his voice when he read to you or his smile or the way he studied the waves with gentle affection. No, it couldn't be that.

Either way, you arrived at the base of the lighthouse. It had been a week since your first visit and you hoped that the invitation still stood for your return. Making your way through the empty room felt quick since you hadn't wasted time to notice how the table now had a vase of flowers in the center. Nor did you notice the new mat placed in front of the interior doorway to the lighthouse.

Your heart dropped from your chest when you reached over to the door knob only to find it was locked. You turned the handle back and forth as if that would miraculously function as a key to unlock the door. After a bit of knob fiddling had proven itself useless, you turned away with a huff of air releasing your frustration.

The click and turn of the handle had you twirling around optimistically and seeing him made all that disappointment dissolve.

“You’re back again.” He was smiling at you, then cocked his head to say come in. The moment you stepped into the lighthouse, its lackluster disappeared as if by magic. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t magic at all; it was the person that hid their umbrella, and asked him to read and promised to return as much as he promised to let you return.

“I believe you promised to keep reading to me.”

“Did I?” The reasons for your return weren’t all that important to discuss, both you and him were just glad to make your way up the stairs to the two armchairs once more, hearts both racing not because of the physical exertion from the stairs but from the excitement rasping through yours and his bodies.

“Yes, but this time I won’t fall asleep.”

“We’ll see about that.” There was no question that your intense focus wasn’t because you cared about the book he had been reading. In all honesty, you would not be able to summarize any bit of the plot if someone asked. You probably would have a hard time even naming the author of the book because what sank you into the words on the pages wasn’t the story itself, but the voice that read them. Jungkook made those languid paragraphs sound like the first words ever to be spoken; he reinvented the English language through his unique dialect, inflections and phrasing that had the words of Homer dancing off the pages. So, of course there was no question that you wouldn’t be able to name any of the characters or recognize the writing style of Homer because those details faded away, leaving only the memory of his voice with you.

This time, Jungkook didn’t have to offer you a seat. He made it clear that this spot had been reserved and waiting for you by the way the blanket had been folded and worn by the arm of the chair and the new pillow resting at the base of the chair’s backrest. You planted yourself on the cushion that felt more plump than the last time you sat in it and faced towards the large window that showcased the ocean’s energetic swaying.

“I would never get tired of this view.” You commented while Jungkook pulled back the curtains further to widen the seascape. He too was drawn to the deep blue waters making their way to and from the shore.

“I usually don’t leave the windows this open, but my love for the scenery of the ocean has rekindled.” When he said this, your eyes hadn’t budged from the window unlike Jungkook’s that peered over to you. You pretended not to notice that or the way your heartbeat had taken a quickness that had your skin growing warmer.

“How could it leave in the first place?”

“It is well known, especially by you, that having an abundance of something lessens your appreciation for it.” A corner of your lips lifted at this, knowing exactly what he had been referring to. Each wave passed by and in a comatose-like state, you wondered where on the shore it would land.

“No need to call me out already, Jungkook.” He had left the window and retrieved The Odyssey that hadn’t left the side table since the night he read it to you. This broke your trance, and you shifted to face the left armchair.

“You made it too easy, ___.”

“Okay, Hermit.” Your smile did wonders to ease the irritation in Jungkook’s chest to tenderness. Though he refused to admit it, this otherwise taunting nickname sounded affectionate coming from you.

“Technically a hermit is-”

“Technically, I don’t care about your technicalities. No amount of facts will persuade me that you aren’t a Hermit.” Jungkook dug his tongue into the side of his cheek to resist from joining in with your laughter. He’d been fidgeting with the book that was waiting to be read, but neither of you seemed to mind putting that off.

“Ho- How was your day?” You shouldn’t have felt as proud as you did for making a man who could read aloud for hours stutter over his own words, and nonetheless you were extremely flattered by this.

“It was good.” Good never really meant good, and Jungkook knew this.

“And what’s the truth?” Your playing field had once again been unleveled, the advantage returned into the palm of Jungkook’s hand in the blink of an eye. His perceptiveness had been bordering on annoying but still remained on the side of impressive.

“Well,” You bunched the blanket in your fists as an expression of worry, “My mom called today.” Anyone who could hear would be able to tell you sounded unhappy about that.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Jungkook articulated his question to get the answer he’d been looking for, finding the hostility in your voice far more interesting than the actual conversation between you and your mom.

“You don’t know my mom, but she projects her over achieving personality onto almost everyone she meets, but most of it goes onto me.” Your back had straightened when mentioning your mom, almost as if it were a reflex, like Pavlov’s dog, that you were conditioned to be on guard at the thought of her. “I don’t know why I get so mad at her when she does that because I know it comes from a place of love.”

Jungkook hummed softly, granting you space to continue talking.

“Yeah, it probably comes from a place of love but part of me doesn’t believe that. Part of me thinks every time she calls to check on me it’s really just a ploy for her to nag me on what I could be doing better.” You scoffed as the conversation from earlier in the morning played out in your head again. Envisioning the back and forth between you and your mother only fueled your frustration but you couldn’t help yourself. There was no stifling the seething anger imploding before Jungkook’s eyes. “She always says stuff like, ‘Maybe if you applied yourself more you would be doing better than this.’ or ‘I told you that you should have done this or that and now it’s too late’ or the infamous ‘Do you not care about your future?’ lecture that just gets under my skin. She’s so good at saying the wrong things at the wrong time. I don’t know how she does it but she always manages to rub dirt in the wound.”

“So, she’s never satisfied with you?” Jungkook observed.

“No, never! And you’d think a mother would be supportive or happy with all the things her child had already accomplished but somehow it’s never enough. And she knows what she’s doing. That makes it worse. She knows how she weaponizes my guilt against me.” You held your tongue from the much longer rant about to digress, feeling a sudden discomfort in the way you’d been complaining to Jungkook. You couldn’t understand why it was all too easy to talk of these kinds of things to him, why he looked so interested in what you were saying even when anyone else would have grown tired of you by now, why you found in him a warm confidant much more comforting than you’d expected, yet there was no way to dismiss this reality.

Jungkook did not offer advice, or tell you that you should be thankful or that maybe you were handling these situations poorly. He did none of that. His silence was more thoughtful than any number of things he could have said. He simply listened.

You rose from the chair to get a closer view of the sea. Past your reflection in the glass, the consecutive tides seemed to grapple over the next and the next; the previous wave always just short of reach to tackle the immediate wave. He had followed you without a word, living up to your desire to have him at your side. There was no need for mindless comments or condolences to fill the silence, only mindful amity, at your side, because watching the ocean with you was enough.

“So, that was my day.” It was the first thing spoken after a period of quiet, perfectly timed and delivered for it to bear a dry humor in its intention. Jungkook and you laughed, finding this the long needed release of tension in your head.

“Is this going to become a habitual thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Me complaining to you about my personal struggles that would have gone in my journal or somewhere far more private than this.” All said while your and Jungkook’s gazes didn’t wander from the view of the window. “Me inviting myself into your lighthouse, or not-lighthouse, whatever.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Two heads turned towards each other almost as if it were on que.

The way your pupils dilated and softened conveyed every bit of thanks you held in your heart but couldn’t muster the courage to voice. Jungkook’s doe-eyed smile thanked you likewise and confessed the gratitude for how you had rescued him from yet another lonesome afternoon with a curtained window, an unused blanket, an empty chair, and a melancholic silence as he read his one of thousands of books. Not including The Odyssey, that was for your ears only.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Maybe a little.” His tease succeeded to provoke that smile of yours. And even though that was a favor on his end, he was the one that felt graced by it. Realistically, a smile costs nothing yet there grew an enormous debt in his heart; and even though he couldn’t afford it, all he could do was bask in every detail your smile, of the crease of your eyes, and of the way your cheeks took the form of a sweet Spring Peach, and the scrunch of your nose and brows. Before he sank himself deeper in debt, Jungkook beckoned for the two of you to return to your seats and read all your worries away.

---

Who would have guessed that The Odyssey, of all things, would be the thing that would occupy most of your Fridays through the rest of the winter? Sometimes you visited a Sunday, and other times you’d find yourself needing to hear The Odyssey on a Wednesday evening or a Monday morning. The days on which you swung by the now familiar lighthouse would vary, but they remained a weekly occurrence.

Jungkook had grown comfortable with this routine, reading to you while you watched him and the waves, but mostly him. Occasionally, his reading would cease to an interruption of his own doing to ask how your day was in a very specific way that only Jungkook seemed to exhibit. He’d ask you say anything but ‘good’ or ‘boring’ and he’d clarify that he wanted you to not leave out any details.

“Why?” You would ask. And he’d look at you as if you set yourself on fire.

“It’s important to me.” He’d reply as if it were that simple, or the answer you were looking for. Still, if it was important to him you didn’t need any more persuading.

Like when you told him you stopped by a coffee shop, he’d tell you to specify which drink you ordered and how it tasted.

“Cinnamon.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“No, I prefer peppermint but sometimes I combine those flavors and that becomes my other favorite.”

“That sounds sweet.”

“It absolutely is.”

“Does that make you happy?”

“It makes my insides feel like Christmas.”

“Is Christmas a feeling?”

“It is to me!” He smiled at your childlike enthusiasm because it made life seem a lot more appealing than he’d ever believed. Before you, the world was a little greyer. After you, suddenly full of vibrance, saturated to the grandest extents.

Or the time you brought a candle to fill the air with something a bit more pleasant than the smell of the old, wet stones of the lighthouse.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a candle, vanilla and patchouli.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t remember. I just found it in my house and thought this place needed something sweet.”

“But you’re here.” Your teeth bit down on your tongue when he said this. You almost fallen trapped in figuring out what motivated him to say this, but the flattery of his comment was all too pleasing to ignore.

“But I don’t smell like vanilla and patchouli.” You said, only to save face from the fact that you suddenly felt like a deer in headlights when he looked at you, bracing for when he would crash into you and hoping to god you can absorb the exhilaration of souls colliding; and hoping to god he would crash into you.

“Could you light it, then?”

“Of course.”

And the room filled with a sweetness that complimented your company finely. Now, whenever he would smell the scents of vanilla and patchouli he would think of you, and you of him.

He would continue asking these simple questions, and so on.

Why he thought it was essential for you to relay these almost invaluable intricacies was beyond you, but it did make you feel heard; it made you feel held as it always did. It made the value of your life gone without the need to be earned or proven, the value of the smaller moments that fell between bigger moments.

It made it all okay that you felt like you stripped the clothes from your whole life off for him to revere and that he’d rarely ever display such emotional nudity for you; you were okay with lying bare before his eyes, vulnerable and pliant to his every whim. Even when you wanted to know all of these things about Jungkook and he’d hold them captive or he’d only offer half sufficient answers, you collected as many bits of the puzzle as possible to try and piece together his story.

“How are your parents, Jungkook?”

“Long gone.”

“Oh, Jungkook… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I watched them grow old and content and that softened the blow.”

“Are you lonely?”

Yes, it’s excruciating when you are not here. I am tormented in your absence and all too plagued with despondency and I wish you knew that.

“I’ve grown used to it.”

“So you have.”

“So I have.”

You did not want him to be lonely; you didn’t want him to ever be sad but you wanted him to be able to say that he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you he was lonely; you wanted him to want you to know his heart. You wanted him to feel as naked as you felt. Vagueness was all you could ever manage to arrest from his gated mind.

And for once, the little he had given was more than you could ever ask for.

Sunday mornings with Jungkook were your favorite. The ocean was tame during this time on Sundays specifically and sailed you into its calmness; you were half asleep, resting on the sill running along the base of the window panes. Spring had been approaching which meant there were radiant glimmers of the early sun that reflected and glided along the ripples of the waves. Jungkook once said that every time he looked at these little pieces of diamond rays, he believed the sun and the sea performed in devotion for you and him alone.

“I love that.” And indeed you did. The idea that no one else witnessed this ocean, not this one, not the way you and Jungkook had, was a greedy disposition but felt so true.

“Would you like me to read?” He said in place of, Is my voice properly fitting for something as lovely as this moment?

“I want you to talk, but not of books.” You blinked slowly at Jungkook, “Could you tell me about yourself? Just one thing, anything you choose.” He saw those specks of diamonds glimmering in your irises. He felt so close to you, sitting on the other end of the window, and close enough to finally surrender a bit of his gated mind.

“When I was a child, I knew my days were numbered. The details of why aren’t important, but I digress.” You stuffed a scoff down your throat at the assertion that the details weren’t important. Him, of all people, claiming the details were unimportant had you whirling in a paradox. “With this in mind, I did my best to fulfill everything any child would have wanted. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped because that list of desires was never ending.”

Was this what he meant when he said he was in my position once? You wondered.

“I spent all my time looking for the next best thing I could achieve, because the best things that I had was, as you know, never enough. One week, the best thing would be finding a four leaf clover to give to my mother. The next, it was being the first in line for the new, long awaited comic book. Or, it was the time my father took me fishing on the lake, and then seconds after it was the first fish I caught and threw back into the water, and that best thing was soon replaced by my father’s proud smile.”

Your throat tightened as you visualized a young Jungkook sitting on the dock with his father, full of youth and excitement, and how nostalgia had ripened into your heart even though you had no place in this memory of his. This dream-like sequence had compelled a few tears to fill your eyes, fogging your vision of the older Jungkook that sat before you.

“When I grew older, in my adolescent and teenage years, the next best thing was fulfilling a newfound passion. It prompted me to buy out almost the entire library and major in World Literature. I spent the rest of my days from then on immersed in reading, as you can see. It was the only place I felt like I was achieving the next best thing, and it was cruel when I came to realize there was no way in hell I could finish all the books I’d collected in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time... for the next best thing to come along, I guess.” This answer appeared fabricated, but was subtle enough to pass through your mind without a second thought.

“And did it? Did it come along?”

It would have made no difference if your question had been asked to a brick wall because Jungkook brushed it off as he did every other question that would have given you another piece of his puzzle. He took precautions to avoid a defeat to your pouting by walking over to the left armchair and burying his face in the book’s fortitude. Before you had the chance to reiterate your question, Jungkook began to read, making it all too clear he was evading.

“Jungkook?” You whined to which he paid no mind by continuing to read.

“Is he being serious right now?” Again, you might as well have been talking to an inanimate object. There was nothing to be done when he lodged his restraint other than joining him in your armchair, quietly, permissively.

Every day, like this one, spent with him had you convinced it couldn’t be surpassed in enjoyment. And every day, your expectations had been exceeded. That was something you’d never think could happen. Soon, the cares and worries of this Winter melted as the avenue of Spring had unfolded before you. A long path, surrounded with flower blossoms and diamond coated seas, or in other words, the unfathomable had fallen into your hands.

The remainder of this pleasant Sunday had been consumed by The Odyssey and Jungkook’s voice singing its words as smoothly as the waves surrounding the lighthouse and small conversations during the pauses of his reading. One struck you into reminiscence of the first night you met.

“You never answered my question.” He paused, flipping through the many unanswered questions he’d left with you. Jungkook raised his brow to order specification of which one you referred to.

“What makes us human?” The due date of your essay passed over two months ago, however this didn’t diminish your curiosity to know his answer.

“In all honesty,” He paused and looked to assure you would believe his answer would be honest, or honest enough to cater your satisfaction. “I think it’s our desire to achieve the last best thing.”

Every fiber in you compiled its own list of questions in regards to his yet again ambiguous answer, though you had grown to accept that as a part of Jungkook. And you sure as hell accepted Jungkook, ambiguity and all.

“Hm.” It didn’t take a mind reader to know you had theorized any and all connotations branching off from his answer and he didn’t mind that you could be lost in search of whatever the actual meaning of it was.

The moon was in its fullest bloom tonight, and tomorrow, it would begin to wane into a crescent then into nothing but an empty space full of new and perhaps fortunate opportunities. Jungkook found the romance of this lunar phase well equipped for the dusty instrument he discovered in the base of the lighthouse.

“I found something that I think you’d like.” Your ears perked like a dog when it’d been presented with treats. “But you have to go get it. It’s in the other room.”

Whatever this surprise was, it had excited you enough to ignore how you’d have to descend and re-ascend the many stairs that would surely tire you. Your eager legs would have jumped right from the platform to the bottom of the lighthouse if the reality didn’t result in broken bones. As you rushed to the door to the other room, you pushed through and discovered a telescope standing in the corner of the otherwise empty space. A few moments later you were hustling back up the stairs, the telescope making the re-ascension of the stairs ten times as strenuous. All the while, Jungkook just stared in amusement at the way you struggled your way to the platform.

“No, I don’t want any help, thank you!” You said sarcastically through grunts of exertion before positioning the instrument in front of the window.

“Well, I didn’t offer you any, so, you’re very welcome.” He stood on the other side of the telescope, admiring the way you fell so easily in love with it, hands scaling the length of the scope.

“Do I just?” You pointed to the eyepiece at the end of the rod and he nodded. You brought your eye to the magnifying glass which was flooded with the enchanting glow of the stars. You’d never seen them this close, but this little gift of Jungkook’s had catapulted you into the illuminated abyss of the night sky. A measly woah was all that squeaked from your voice, because all the other words were stolen by the stars.

“Can you find any constellations?” He’d seen all the stars in the galaxy; that he was sure of. But none had shone brighter than the person he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Three o’clock had crept onto the antique clock, this late hour had worn down Jungkook’s walls completely as the soft glow of adornment laminated his eyes.

“I think I see ORion's belt. That’s the only one I know other than the Big Dipper.” You laughed at your own lack of knowledge of the stars. Knowledge didn’t seem to matter though, the beauty of the stardusted sky had taken care of that deficiency. You lifted yourself away from the telescope, allowing Jungkook a turn to stargaze.

“Have you heard of the Astral Plane?” Jungkook asking you something other than, ‘how was your day’, was a rare occurrence which most likely meant this was of some importance.

“I’ve heard of it, but I think I’ll need you to refresh my memory.” You really did need clarification on what exactly the Astral Plane entailed, though you mainly just wanted to hear him explain it.

“Some say it lies in the fourth dimension. It isn’t tangible or something that can be touched. It lies between everything, every atom, every cell, every city and forest and mountain and even between the crevasses of one’s own mind and soul. A place like this is full of divinity and complete attainment and the way it is reached has been theorized by many.” Jungkook’s meticulous readjustments of the telescope had you wondering which constellations he was searching for, or maybe he’d been looking for Venus or Mars or the Moon. “Some say you arrive there in your dreams, or when you reach enlightenment, or when death draws its curtain on you… I-I don't know why but I’ve always thought that it was stitched into the sky. Far beyond our galaxy, maybe the Astral Plane has situated itself in between each star, just like it does our souls, and exists as the vastness of outer space.” It turned out he wasn't looking for any of those things, he was looking for the Astral Plane.

Could the heat rising throughout your body be merely adoration, or was it something along the lines of a forlorn longing? When he spoke, you felt this sensation growing dense in your bones; you felt a gravitation towards him.

“Seems about right to me.” Fondness had stained your tone which filled some void in Jungkook’s hungry heart, and he’d failed to predict you were the one that would be able to settle it. “Maybe we’ll never reach the Astral Plane, but at least I’m here with you.”

When you said this, the hairs on his arms pointed towards the ceiling. For once in a very, very long time, Jungkook felt a euphoric resurgence striking through the catacombs of his soul and hot tears dripping down the expanse of his cheeks, to the tip of his chin, and onto the glass scope that was shielding this sudden emotional combustion. He blinked away the tears to the best of his abilities and turned away from you and the telescope and the sky. Jungkook felt the push of air from your movement towards him, but he shifted further away.

“Are yo-”

“I found a cluster of stardust, go look.” He averted you from him and you always fell victim to every trick in his book.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” The grip you had on the telescope was firm, like you were trying to hold onto the stars themselves.

“Amazing.” He said. This reiteration wasn’t for the stars, however. He wondered if you knew that. He wondered if you could feel how consumed he was by your magnificence under the full moon that reigned with gentleness over the waves. The once wild tides, now moving with the same serenity and romance embedded into Jungkook and this lighthouse. He wondered if you could see he had been emotionally disrobed and bearing all his affection for you. And he wondered how he was so okay with that.

Six o’clock didn’t feel like six o’clock. Your eyes that struggled to keep open told you otherwise, so again you and him were parting ways as the sun had begun dawning over the horizon and there were no more stars to fill the hours slipping away. Jungkook did all he could to compose himself. He’d offered to walk you out; you reached the door that led to the dewy, Spring air awaiting your departure from the lighthouse.

“Wait, ___!” This exclamation echoed louder than the beating of his crimson heart. After stepping through the threshold, you turned to meet his gaze, teary-eyed from what you guessed was from lack of sleep. Teary-eyed from what he knew was because of another egregious goodbye. “Thank you.”

This moment seemed fitting to test the theory that actions speak louder than words. This moment called for the lapse of courage in need to act, not speak. This moment was the moment when you finally expressed the thankfulness that, to you, seemed to outweigh his by pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. It was much colder than your lips and the docile warmth of the morning, but once you pulled away the warmth had stained his cheek.

Jungkook felt like every cell in his body was evaporating into the space around him. Like the way a fire would extend its heat into the air or the way Spring melted away the frost ridden Winter, your act had covered him in a blanket of love and refuge from the loneliness once vaulting his heart. And it certainly spoke louder than words; all the words in every book Jungkook had ever read and the words left unsaid and the words passing between everyone in the universe.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Hermit! You helped me see Orion’s Belt up close and personal!” You called as your strides began a slow fleet from a laughing Jungkook. You waved, now standing a generous distance from him, and he found this gave him the space needed to finally let his tears fall.

“I love you.” He whispered, hoping the wind would carry it to your ears and heart.

A revelation had overcome him, and no matter how many times he tried to wipe the tears away, they’d be instantly replenished like a stream of water rushing from a conquered dam, spilling over endlessly, with all control suspended in the air around him.

Was it finally here? The last, best thing?

---

A week after the stargazing, your mind had mapped out the stars as you too searched for that Astral Plane. To you, Jungkook’s proposition of it being strewn in the night sky was the only theoretical that made sense. You wanted to flaunt your newfound passion for this concept he’d introduced, and admittedly - and more importantly - you wanted to kiss him again, leading to yet another blissful walk down the seashore to the lighthouse. The air was warm but not humid, carrying a breeze that evened out the sun’s heat nicely. A few pillows of clouds were cascading through the sky, never staying in one spot for too long; you’d come to appreciate each one’s temporary presence and when they passed, you grew to appreciate that as well. The gaze once fixed on the sand had now traveled to the waves of much gentler motion than ever before.

This walk, unlike the dozens of others, felt different. The streets looked lovely and the air felt clean in your chest, giving you a pleasant journey far more intimate than the last. Then you realized, it felt like you were walking back home.

When you grew closer to the lighthouse, you noticed the curtains had been drawn which was strikingly unusual for a sunny day such as this one. This was a passing observation as you made your way to the base of the lighthouse.

Through the door to the room before the lighthouse, you were taken aback to find your armchair sitting in front of the table. you walked up to discover a single, folded parchment sealed with a red wax stamp labeled with your name along the top of the paper.

This felt eerie, for some reason, and you called out his name only to be met with silence, before sitting yourself down and unsealing the note.

It read in his voice:

My Dearest, ___

I wrote this to relay a lot of things left unsaid. The first being goodbye. I’m sorry to have to leave you like this, though no amount of remorse could possibly appease my actions.

Your heartbeat had grown rampant, until your eyes read those words. It was then when it stopped altogether. Still, you continued to read.

I kept things from you like the fact that our encounter in the town’s square was all but coincidental. The truth is scary, and my truth would have turned you away from the beginning. It was selfish, I admit, but I do not think I could have endured such a loss. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark all this time, but I am beyond gratified for what you granted me in spite of that.

Maybe it might seem cruel. You are not alone in feeling that — never alone. But, we were never meant to spend every Sunday morning, or Friday evening, or Wednesday afternoon together to watch the waves float along with the hours lost reading to you; I knew this was not the end of your story, just mine.

The books I have read over and over have imprisoned me in search of the “next best thing”. To my dismay, I thought I had run out of time to find it. But then you came along. You helped set me free by allowing me to live out a few more “best things” through the way you shared your life with me, unselfishly, warmly, kindly— You helped me move on.

I know you too will move on from this. I hope I could at least leave you with the tools and courage to find each “next best thing” in store. If not that, then this lighthouse, open to you and only you, and a myriad of good memories to ease our parting. I know in my heart you deserve nothing less.

I hope you find contentment somewhere in the sea or on the sand or in the stars, or perhaps somewhere in between.

Once you do, we will meet again within the Astral Plane, my love. I swear it. And if you miss me, just look through the telescope and find me woven in the spaces amidst Orion’s Belt.

Thank you. Again and again I thank you and it is still not enough. Thank you for you, for your warmth, for your salvation, for your smile, for your endless questions, for re-introducing me to the aroma of vanilla and patchouli but it was not as sweet as your companionship, for putting good use of the right armchair and the view from our window, for making the odyssey a little less lonely to read, and thank you for stepping into my lighthouse and my life.

Don't you see, it was you. You were my last, best thing.

with love and sorrow,

Jeon Jungkook

Before you got to the end of the letter, you were racing up the spiraling stairs, ignoring the burn in your tightened chest, how the air in the lighthouse had suffocated your lungs. The dizziness that blurred your eyes had not slowed your climb up the stairs, and the wetness of your tears now seeping into his letter.

You reached the top, The Odyssey greeting you on the chair Jungkook would have been seated in. Your breaths were staggered and warm, filling the mournful emptiness of the lighthouse.

“Jungkook.” You whispered. You begged for a reply. The curtains were drawn over the window, like never before, and exposed a bronze plaque peeking out from the end of the fabric. You pushed the drapes aside to read what was engraved into the metal plate and the first page of The Odyssey that hung below it.

In loving memory of our beloved son, Jeon Jungkook. May he rest in peace. 1918-1942.

The note below read:

The Odyssey

Jeon and ___ Lighthouse.

You pieced the puzzle together, finally. And with that, came the final picture, so beautiful and mesmerizing and everything you could have ever hoped for, and more.

“Jungkook.” You repeated as a bid of farewell, with a heart full of satisfaction and content, and Jungkook. You pressed the letter to your chest in hopes his words would mend your aching heart.

And it was true, he was not your last best thing, only one of them.

But he was undoubtedly your most cherished and beloved best thing.

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