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#I’d just. wanna clear the game to the point where all areas are open and all the grumps are back in town
ghoul--doodle · 3 years
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byunbaekby · 3 years
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title — the things i know pairing — soccerplayer!jisung x female reader genres — angst, fluff, high school au, strangers to lovers au, first love au, long distance relationship, hurt and comfort, coming of age overall warnings — underage drinking, cancer, character death, language, mentions of hickeys, fainting, mentions and descriptions of hospitals, soccer inaccuracies, lots of angst (you’ve been warned!) word count — 14.8k summary — jisung has never been keen on growing up, or even understanding what adulting means. at seventeen, all he knows is: he loves soccer (and he’s damn gifted at it), and girls are very pretty but also plenty scary. then he met you, his first love who turned his life upside down and made his stomach roll like the soccer balls he loved to kick around the field. but when your cancer comes back after years in remission, jisung thinks, he doesn’t really want to grow up anymore. playlist — falling, harry styles ; your guardian angel, red jumpsuit apparatus ; my first and last, nct dream ; bye my first, nct dream ; orchid, jeremy zucker
additional — for the heartbreak hotel collab hosted by @nct-writers​. my concept in the five stages of grief was “acceptance and hope.” thank you to my babes @suh-insane​ and @astroboy-lele​ for proof-reading!
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The thing about knowledge is that you never know when or what you’re going to learn. There’s no way for you to predict what will be of your mind when you fall into bed that night, surrendering to the moon. In the morning, there’s no telling what knowledge your brain will choose to store away for remembrance over the course of the night, and what your brain will decide is unnecessary. What you decide not to remember is a memory you can’t even miss. 
When you wake up every morning, you don’t know if you’ll go to bed having met someone who will change your life forever. 
At seventeen, there are two things that Park Jisung knows. One, he loves playing soccer (and he’s damn good at it, the way his long legs carry him across the field in what seems to onlookers like seconds). Two, girls are very pretty but plenty scary as well. 
The day starts out normally, like any other away game that the team plays.
He wakes up at six o’clock on the dot, and eats a large breakfast to hold him over for the game, then packs a few granola bars into his soccer bag and lets his sister know he’s leaving before he jogs the way to the park where the bus is waiting for his team. The ride is normally an hour long, so he either tucks his earbuds into his ears and tries to get in a short nap or he converses with his teammates. 
Today though, the bus ride is three hours long. Crossing his hoodie-clad arms across his chest to act against the cold air of the bus, he focuses his gaze outside and watches as the town goes by. 
“Yo, Jisung, check this out!” 
At the sound of his name he turns his head, blinking when he sees a number of his teammates in the surrounding area nudging him closer. A few of them are leaning in towards a particular teammate, who displays a proud expression. “What’s up,” asks Jisung as he too leans forward toward his team member, curiosity slightly piqued.
Jaemin, the teammate in question, tugs the collar of his jersey down to reveal his skin. On the milky white curve of Jaemin’s collarbone, he sports a dark purple bruise, surrounded by a perimeter of yellow where the skin seems to be healing. There’s no question as to where that mark came from, and it definitely wasn’t from soccer. 
“Ew, man, that looks sick!” comes from Donghyuck, along with a few comments from others, either approving or disturbed. 
“Where’d that come from?” 
Renjun slaps Mark on the chest, eyebrows furrowed at him. “Obviously, it was from Anne! Didn’t you see the way they were all over each other at last week’s game?” Jaemin grins, eyes going lovesick at the thought of his girlfriend. 
Jisung’s expression contorts into one of disgust. “That’s disgusting, man,” he comments, nose still scrunched in distaste as he leans back into his original spot on the bus seat. Another thing he’ll never understand is why people are so desperate to grow up, as if giving hickeys and sneaking vodka into their Hydro flasks makes them somehow more adult. 
He slips his earbuds into his ears, playing some light muzak to lull him to sleep with his head leaned rather uncomfortably against the cold window. 
-
Jisung doesn’t think that he’s exceptionally smart; he’s gotten passing to above average grades his entire life. He’s not musically talented, nor is he particularly a smooth talker. 
But hearing people call him gifted is a feeling he relishes every time.
With his long legs and strangely large and spacious lungs, soccer called the boy’s name from the time he could run. He dominated the peewee league, then the club teams until this point, at the ripe age of seventeen waiting to be scouted for college teams. 
He wasn’t usually one to brag but today, he had shot the winning goal. 
Everyone has their thing, the one thing that they excel at. For Picasso it was painting, for Yiruma it was piano, for Renjun it’s spending four hours every night researching alien conspiracy theories. For Jisung, it’s soccer. But he’s never been exceptionally good at speaking to people. 
“What’s your name?” He hears a voice, cheery and upbeat, behind him as he’s grabbing his bag on the side of the field. The game is over, and the crowd begins to dissipate while the team members are gathering their things to return to the bus. Turning over his shoulder he sees you, wearing a bright smile. Cautiously he responds, “Jisung Park.”
“Oh, so you’re Korean then. I’m gonna write that down, okay? How long have you been playing soccer?” You ask next, and now Jisung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. 
“Write what down?” He asks, trying to keep his tone as polite as possible. Even so, how is he supposed to react to a random person at a game suddenly appearing to ask him questions? As he wipes his forehead with his towel he adds, “Who even are you?”
Quickly you say, “I write in the high school newspaper, and wanted to get a close-up of today’s star.” It’s then that Jisung realizes the camera slung around your neck and the notepad in your hands. 
“Why are you writing about me? I don’t even go here.”
“Because,” you say, a slight sigh creeping into your voice now. “Our team sucked today. You straight up stole the show, and no one wants to read about a team that lost. I’d rather give them a peek at the star.”
“14!” His coach yells his number once, causing Jisung to look over his shoulder to the source of the voice, where his teammates are already beginning to pile onto the bus. The boy in question slings his bag over his shoulder and tucks his soccer ball under his right arm before finally getting a good look at you. “Shouldn’t you be writing something to raise your team’s spirit or something? Giving them support, maybe?”
You shrug. “I don’t like underdogs. Don’t like writing about them. I’d rather read about the heroes. So how long have you been playing soccer again?” 
“Jisung!” Now it’s Chenle calling after him, and he really needs to go. Eyes flickering to the street where his teammates are gesturing for him to hurry, he looks back to you. Your eyebrow is raised expectantly, right hip popped out as you wait. Before he starts to run off, he manages a small, “I’ve been playing eleven years. Um… bye.”
Then he turns away and his long legs carry him to the bus a few meters away. Even so, behind him he can hear your loud, proud voice yelling after him with the name of your high school: “Check the online newspaper! You’ll see my article!”
What a weirdo, he can’t help but think as the team cheers for their star player getting on the bus back home. 
-
A week later, it’s another Saturday night following a victorious win against another team in the local area when Jisung gets a call from Chenle. “What’s up,” he asks immediately, leaning back in his desk chair to throw his soccer ball up in the air and catch it with one hand. 
“Wanna party tonight? Celebrate our win a bit?”
“Where?” asks Jisung. He’d never been big on parties. For one, his long legs that were great for running weren’t exactly skilled in dancing or anything of the like. Secondly, he’d definitely be expected to talk to girls and he’s not really in the mood to make a fool of himself. 
“Taeyong’s house. Me, Mark, Hyuck, and Jaemin are going. Renjun’s busy, and Jeno wants to spend time with his cat. What do you say? Wanna join?” 
Jisung sighs. He was honestly just exhausted. “Think I’ll pass. My sister’s been getting on me about my bio grade.”
Chenle groans on the other line. “Lame.”
“Next time, promise,” says Jisung. 
“Fine. Have fun studying, looooser!” This is the last thing Chenle says before hanging up, leaving his best friend alone to shake his head with a small laugh. Then he remembers something, some words that a stranger had yelled out to him a week before. 
Sitting up at his desk, Jisung opens his laptop and types in the name of your high school, along with your town. A few clicks around the website finds him at the online news section, plus a scroll or two past some questionable articles, there it is: a picture of him mid-kick, the winning one if he remembers well enough. His nose is scrunched in concentration and strands of dark hair cling to his forehead. 
Soccer Superstar from the opposing team steals the show and the win!
A small scoff leaves Jisung’s lips, trying to humble himself as he reads over the first few paragraphs. 
Our school’s boys soccer team faced a devastating loss on Saturday in the face of the opposing team’s ace player (pictured above). The game ended promptly when the superstar player confidently kicked in the final shot, though the result had been clear from the first half of the game. 
A short interview with the hotshot player revealed that he has been playing soccer for eleven years! A senior from Neo Culture Prep, it is clear as day that the school is very lucky to have such a prodigy on the team.
Who is this superstar player, you ask?
His name is Jisung Park. 
Geez, Jisung thinks. He knew he was good but not that good. The article did a good job of spicing him up, making him look like he was a lot better than he really was. There’s too much fluff; sure, he’s skilled and he knows it, but—he touches his cheeks. They’re warm—the article makes him sound like a soccer god, and it’s beyond embarrassing. Who even are you?
A scroll to the bottom of the page tells him all he needs to know.
Article written by: (Name) (Last Name).
-
He doesn’t return to your town for almost two months. There’s a tournament today, the hours lurching between games giving him more than enough time to psych himself out about how he’ll play. 
It’s noon, the sun shining overhead causing a sheet of sweat to amass on Jisung’s forehead. His team has just won their second match of the day, and in waiting for their next game, his eyes are scanning the bleachers set up for observers on the side of the field. It’s not hard to find you, same camera hanging around your neck. 
With his long legs, he jogs over to you towel in hand. You’re not at all focused on him, eyes pressed into the camera’s viewfinder as you attempt to capture a good shot of the current game. 
“I don’t like the stuff you said about me in your article.” 
His deep voice suddenly intrudes your thoughts, and you jump in your place. As you turn to him and drop your camera from your face, he catches sight of the way your eyes widen at his appearance. A flood of recognition replaces the shock before you tilt your head. “Why? It was all good stuff.” 
Patting at his forehead with his towel, Jisung responds, “Yeah, exactly. I’m not that good. I could’ve played better that day.” This brings a small snort from you. “Really! They were narrowing the angle on me, I should have flanked or lofted.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“It’s—” 
You cut him off before he can explain. “You’re good. Why are you so shy to accept that?”
“Why do you keep trying to paint me as the main character of the team? Everyone works hard together.” He questions, eyebrows furrowed. 
“Because you are,” you respond matter-of-factly, focused enough to press your eye into the viewfinder again. A few seconds pass, and Jisung recognizes the click of the camera as you capture something on the field. “You’re clearly the best player on the team by a long shot. You’re the main character, the hero.”
At your response, Jisung shakes his head in disbelief and scrunches his nose. There’s really no getting through to you. “I’m more than the hero you think I am.”
You turn to him, facial features contorted into a mischievous expression. “I’m sure you are.” Jisung realizes then that you’re holding something out to him. Taking it, he observes it. A… business card? With your name and number on it. “(Name). Aspiring journalist.”
“You have a business card? Aren’t you like, seventeen?” 
You shrug, smile tugging on your lips. “Never hurts to be prepared. Call me.” It’s the last thing you say before you flitter away on quick feet, leaving to interview the team which has just won their match. He watches you leave, wondering if you know what kind of effect you have on people. 
-
“I don’t know, man. She seems kinda crazy,” says Hyuck from the seat next to him, leaning his head back. However, a sudden bump in the road causes the bus to jump, startling the boy a bit. Jisung had just shared his thoughts about asking you out with his friend, who immediately made a face and shook his head. 
“Crazy?” Sure, you’re a bit forward and maybe slightly reckless, but he doesn’t think you’re… crazy. It’s been a few weeks since he last saw you and from the conversations you’ve shared over text and phone… he thinks he likes you. Like, really likes you. It’s goddamn terrifying.
“Yeah, we all saw her article,” Chenle speaks up from the seat behind him. “She’s obsessed with you.” 
Jisung rolls her eyes. “It was one article. That doesn’t mean she’s obsessed.”
“I think you should do it. It’d be funny to get on camera in case you fail,” snorts Renjun.
Jaemin pipes in from in front of them. “But if you do ask her out, she lives three hours away. That’s a lot of distance.” He’s the only one in a relationship, so maybe he has the only opinion that Jisung trusts. 
“Other people have done more distance.”
Now, it’s Jeno’s turn to pipe in. “But you’re not other people, you’re Jisung Park. You’ve never had a girlfriend.” Should he feel insulted? Chenle also adds, “Jeno’s right. You’re a senior! It’s your year, and you wanna spend it tied down to some girl who lives three hours away?” 
But you’re not just some girl. Mark’s the only one who hasn’t spoken, and most of the time, he’s the most level headed. Jisung turns to him with a sincere expression and asks, “What do you think?”
Though he had been trying to stay quiet throughout the conversation, he stretches a bit in his seat before finally saying, “I think you should go for it.”
“I think you should too!” Jaemin says. “But I think you should be prepared for what it means.”
“Whatever you decide to do, we’ll hype you up.”
“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Jisung asks. “If she rejects me, at least she’s three hours away, right?” There’s murmurs of agreement around the seven of them. He tries to sound relaxed, but the thought of asking a girl out for the first time causes his heart to thump loudly in his chest. Oh god… should he do it?
“So?” asks Hyuck after a few seconds of silence, and it’s then that Jisung realizes everyone’s looking at him. “Are you gonna do it?” 
He gulps. “... No idea.”
A collective groan emerges from the group of boys. Hyuck, ever the genius, straightens his back with a glint in his eye. “How about this? If we win, you ask her out. You’ll be riding on a winning spree and it’ll give you confidence. If we lose then… there’s more girls back home.” 
That… doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But oh god, he doesn’t know which option he wants. 
-
For the first time, Jisung feels like his legs are knotting into each other, tumbling over his feet. 
Soccer had always come easily to him, like breathing. But for some unknown reason, he’s totally off his game today. He knows the play, his strengths, and even the weaknesses of his opponents, but he trips over his feet. 
No, that’s a lie. He definitely does know the source of his nervousness, and it lives in the form of a girl with a camera and a notepad sitting in the bottom corner bleacher. His breath is frantic as he zips back and forth across the field. The sounds of the game are ringing loud in his ear, and he can hardly even focus on the black and white ball being kicked around, let alone what the coach is screaming at them. They’re so close, one more goal should do it. 
He knows what’s going to happen. Jisung Park had always been known for his ending kicks.
But what if he messes it up? What if he fumbles the kick or whiffs it? 
Then again, does he even want to win? That’s a dumb quesiton—of course he does—but the question is: is he ready for what comes with the win? He really shouldn’t look, shouldn’t peek for just one look at you, but he does. You’re scribbling in your notepad, and he swears in that millisecond that you look so pretty. 
Yeah, he wants it. He really wants it. 
He’s ready, and—oh god, Sungchan is passing the ball to him. Suddenly Jisung is on high alert, winding up toward the goal. He captures Sungchan’s ball with ease, no longer tripping over himself as he makes his way to the end goal. 
One kick, just nail this one kick. 
He winds up, turning his body to the correct angle; he kicks it and…
Please go in, please go in, he’s begging. 
The ball flies in straight past the goalkeeper, who jumps toward it but there’s no use. It all happens so quickly, and suddenly his team erupts into celebration when the referee blows his whistle. Still standing there, Jisung catches his breath and stares into the goal. 
He won. 
That means… He glances at you. You’re wearing a huge smile on your face, and without noticing it himself, Jisung has his own proud smile on his. His momentary peace is interrupted by his friends running toward him, nearly knocking him over in their celebration. 
“Yeeahhh, Jisung Park, you’re the man!” 
A few minutes later, Jisung tries to calm his nerves after thanking the opposing team for a good game. When he returns to the sidelines where his stuff is, he can barely get some water down his throat before Chenle is pushing a soccer ball into his hand. “Good luck, dude,” he says, and Jisung can feel the others’ eyes on him. Oh no, it’s time. 
He steals a glance at you, and—Oh. You’re looking at him too. A bashful smile spreads over your lips and you turn away, focusing back to your conversation with your friend. His heart is beating so loud, but Jisung doesn’t think it’s because of the soccer game. Turning back to his friends, he groans, “I need a pep talk.”
“Okay, uh,” Mark attempts. “You got this, you know you’re the man. Um… if she rejects you, then it’s okay, there’s other fish in the sea!” A groan erupts through the group. “That’s not a pep talk, Mark!” 
“Listen,” says Chenle suddenly, grabbing Jisung’s shoulders to stare at him. “She’s not gonna reject you. You’re Jisung freaking Park! The star of the team and my best friend! Go get ‘em, and don’t take no for an answer!” With this, he gives Jisung a small push in the girl’s direction.
“Actually, uh—I think no means no,” pipes in Jisung but everyone cuts him off with a collective, “JUST GO!” 
Pink spreads across his cheeks as he slowly walks in your direction. At a good distance away, he places the coveted soccer ball down on the ground and winds himself up for a kick. Okay, he just shot the winning goal of the game. If he can do that, he can do this. Running forward the slightest, Jisung gives himself a silent pep talk as his foot taps the ball. It goes moving from its spot, flying through the air… and that’s when Jisung realizes his mistake. Instead of gently tapping against your ankle like he had planned, the ball flies straight in the air, knocking the side of your head rather harshly. 
“Not that hard, genius!” Chenle chastises from behind him, and Jisung has to hold back the desire to actually groan in that moment. He immediately runs toward you, hands out in surprise. “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, reaching out for you. You’re rubbing the spot on the side of your head where the ball had hit, and he wants to disappear right there. 
He never should have done this. 
Why was he born again?
“I’m so sorry,” he says again for the nth time, feeling shame and humiliation speed up his spine at the way you wince when you touch the side of your head. “Oh my god, go get me an ice pack,” he demands over his shoulder at his friends.
“No, no I’m okay,” you reassure everyone. Now all the eyes are on the two of you. 
A few moments of silence pass as you eye the soccer ball which has rolled some distance away, crouching down to pick it up. Ball in hand, you scan the outside of it… and destroying all of Jisung’s hopes and expectations, you burst into laughter.
You laugh so hard, the boisterous sounds leaving your lips so vehemently that you have to cover your mouth with your hand. Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “I just kicked you in the head and you’re laughing?” Oh god, he must have done more damage than he thought. You don’t answer, the only sounds leaving you are giggles and guffaws. It’s only making him feel worse; geez, he wishes he wasn’t so tall so he could positively disappear right now. 
You finally look up at him and meet his gaze, your own eyes crinkled in delight. Flipping the ball over in your hands, you present to him the ball. Written on one of the large white spots reads a firm, “Go out with me?” in black marker.
“This is why you kicked me in the head?” You ask, still chuckling the slightest. Bashfully, Jisung nods. You laugh again. Every time you do that, he feels like getting smaller and smaller. “Of course I’ll go out with you.”
Wait, really?
He says these words aloud, eyes wide at your ease. He hadn’t expected you to actually say yes! “Sure,” you respond with a smile. “Though I could’ve gone without the head injury.” 
This brings a laugh from the both of you. He really had been worrying so much about nothing. His frame instantly relaxes, taking the ball back from you. “You sure you don’t need the ice pack?”
“No, I could definitely use an ice pack.” 
-
The first date happens two weeks after that game, and it’s his first real date so he has no idea how to act. Everything goes fine—he takes you to the local arcade in your town, and though he’d deny it to the ends of the earth, you beat him in foosball. 
“Ha!” You had screamed. “Superstar soccer player Jisung Park, and you can’t beat me in table soccer?” His cheeks had burned pink at the sound of your voice reverberating around the public arcade, but honestly the mirth in your eyes was worth it.
His cheeks are red but the air is cold on the walk home to your house. He had promised to have you home by nine, and it’s—he checks the time on his phone—8:45. 
A look at you, holding the giant stuffed teddy bear that you had won (he hadn’t won it for you, because lord knows he’s horrible at skee-ball), and Jisung can see the air leaving your lips. “Hey, you cold?”
“Nah,” you shake your head, though you scoot closer to him on the sidewalk. His tongue laves over his bottom lip quickly, and he almost wants to hold your hand. But that wouldn’t do much to keep you warm. 
He purses his lips, then immediately his hands are working at taking off his hoodie. That’s a cute thing, isn’t it? Boyfriends giving hoodies to their girlfriends? “Here, take this.”
When you take one look at the hoodie in his hands and roll your eyes, Jisung knows he’s in for it. “Seriously? You can’t fool me with some cheesy rom-com moves,” you laugh.
Ouch.
That hurt his pride. He was just trying to be nice, maybe a tad bit romantic, but you clearly weren’t having it. He should have known you would be so tsundere, and maybe he does.
He knows you act strong, like there is no way on the face of the earth that you would ever swoon for his lame attempts at flirting. But when you reach upward on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before you step into your house, he knows you like it just as much as he does.
-
For the longest time, it’s been just him and his sister Naeun.
His parents passed away shortly after his birth, so they stayed under the custody of their aunt. When his sister became an adult, she became his legal guardian. Since then, it’s been the two of them against the world.
Though kids had sometimes made fun of him for not having a mom or a dad, Jisung never paid those kids much attention. Sure, he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to drive or a mom to attend his parent-teacher conferences, but he had his sister and she was all he’d never need. Naeun gave up everything for him: she didn’t go to college, she traded nights out with her friends to help him with her math homework, she worked two jobs so he could play soccer. She had worked so hard, perhaps sheltered Jisung so much that he had always lived a comfortable life.
It never occurs to him just how much she had struggled until the morning she asks him to get a job. 
She sits across the dining table at breakfast, and over his cereal, Jisung notes how shaken and guilty she looks. There must be something on her mind, but that’s how his sister’s always been; she doesn’t like to worry him, and speaks up when she’s ready. When she finally tells him, he blinks, confused. 
“I can’t pay the bills alone. Not with soccer getting more expensive, and the landlord raising the rent—that bastard,” she mumbles under her breath, surprising Jisung. She hardly cursed. “It’s… It’ll just be for a short time. I promise.” She has tears in her eyes. Jisung furrows his eyebrows; she must feel guiltier about this than he thought. Immediately he nods in understanding. “It’s fine, Noona. Don’t worry about it. I’ll, uh, go out looking this weekend.” 
He takes another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, thinking that the conversation will end there. But it doesn’t, his sister’s quiet voice reaching his ears. “Promise me you���ll go to college, Sung. Promise me you’ll make it. Make it all worth it.”
And it’s in that moment, in the way that his sister’s voice is on the edge of breaking, that it occurs to him just how much his sister has sacrificed for him. How quickly she had to grow up, having become his parent at eighteen, just a few months away from how old he was now. And he was nowhere near as responsible as her. 
He swears in that moment that he’ll uphold his promise. He’ll get a scholarship, he’ll help his sister out. He’ll pay back everything she’s given up for him.
-
Finally, today you’re in town.
It’s the first time you’ve come to visit him in his town, and he’s so excited to show you everything: his school, his favorite ice cream place on the corner of the street from his apartment building, and even the park he grew up kicking soccer balls at. Even after all these years, him and his friends still came here to practice their soccer technique.
Today, the two of you are sitting underneath a tree at said park, his head in your lap. You’re running your hands through his dark hair, and wow, he’d never admit that it feels so good. 
There’s a small laugh heard from you as you comb through his locks. “You should dye your hair.”
“Suddenly?” He asks. “I don’t even know what color I’d dye it.” 
“You should do like, a blue or something. Oh, purple! Purple would be nice!” Your excitement causes him to roll his eyes promptly, sitting up. “I’ll dye my hair purple if you dye your hair purple,” he retorts to you. 
“Maybe I will,” you say, standing onto your feet now that he’s gotten off of you. Wiping the grass from your legs briefly, you nod toward his soccer ball a few feet away. “C’mon, let’s play.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You wanna play soccer.”
“Yeah, is that so surprising?” 
“Um, yeah, a little bit considering the fact that you said it’s boring and that you complain having to get up to go to the fridge at two in the morning,” quips Jisung with a laugh. You only roll your eyes in response. “I never said soccer was boring, I just said it’s only interesting when you play. And you’re gonna teach me right now, so stand up,” you say, extending a hand to him.
He takes your hand, rising to his feet before picking up the ball. “Fine,” he relents, a smirk making its way onto his face. “Try to keep up.”
For fifteen minutes, the two of you race up and down the park’s open grass field, chasing the ball in every direction. He evades you, long legs carrying him and the ball while you chase after him. 
“Wait,” you say mid-sprint, slowing to a stop. Your chest is heaving, and slowly Jisung stops his running also. “You good?” He asks from a few feet away.
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, reaching a hand up to wipe at your forehead. “Just… gimme a sec.” A minute passes of you catching your breath, but Jisung doesn’t pay it much attention—a person who didn’t play soccer and have trained lungs like him would struggle.
“Okay, okay,” you finally say, shaking your head a bit. “Let’s go again.”
“Are you sure?” He asks, worry seeping into his tone.
“Yeah, yes! Just—just go.”
So he does, beginning to kick the ball down field as he chases after it, stopping past center field to pass the ball to you. You’re racing after him, and though the ball is coming your way, you trip over it, falling straight onto the floor.
Your head hangs low, and he immediately rushes over to you.
“Hey, hey! You okay?” He asks, kneeling down but your eyes are closed. He swipes a hand over your forehead, and it’s that moment when he realizes your eyes are closed. Did you pass out? Had he pushed you too far? “(Name)?” 
No response. Oh god, what is he supposed to do?
Is he supposed to check if you’re breathing? Where can he check for a pulse again? In his moment of inadequacy, he pulls out his phone and calls his sister.
She’ll know what to do, but it pains him that he doesn’t.
His sister arrives quickly, and immediately takes you to the hospital. According to her, you do have a pulse and you probably just had heat exhaustion. He sure hopes so… 
For a few hours he sits in the waiting room as he awaits the arrival of your parents. They rushed over from your town, four hours away, and this definitely was not the impression he wanted to have on them. Head in his hands, he can’t help but worry about you.
You do wake up, eventually but he can’t see you until your parents arrive.
They take you back home. You’re walking and talking again, but as you shoot him a weak smile from over your shoulder, walking down the hall and out of the hospital, Jisung can’t help but feel that something has gone terribly wrong. 
-
He swears he’s never been so tired. 
Working at McDonald’s isn’t horrible, per se, it’s just different. But it definitely takes more out of him than soccer ever did. The second he walks into his room Jisung drops his backpack on the bean bag next to the door and almost collapses on his bed. Throwing his work cap on the floor, he runs a hand through his hair and pulls out his phone.
The best thing about coming home from work, is coming home to you.
He immediately fishes for his phone from his pocket and opens it to speed dial. Pressing on your contact, Jisung presses the phone to his ear and waits for his girlfriend’s voice on the other end. The line picks up.
“Hey,” he says, a smile spreading over his lips without him even knowing. 
“Hi…” 
Something’s wrong. Your voice is missing its signature excitement, the snarkiness he had grown accustomed to. He sits up in bed, eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?” 
Yes, you’re supposed to say. Everything’s fine. Everything’s just peachy.
But you don’t. “I got a call from the hospital.”
After you had fainted the other day playing soccer with him, the hospital had run a few tests to make sure you were okay. He knew this, you both did. They were supposed to say that you had been dehydrated, that you hadn’t eaten in a few hours. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Jisung…” 
“What, what is it?” 
There’s a momentary silence on the other side, then a shaky breath. “When I was ten… I got really sick. I was always having nosebleeds, always tired—some days I didn’t even want to get out of bed. They took me to the doctor and they told me that… I had leukemia.”
Jisung releases a heavy breath, staring into his sheets. No… don’t say it.
“I fought it for two years, and I beat it. God, it was… it was really hard, and I got through it. It’s been five years now but—but the hospital called and…” Please, no. “My cancer came back.”
Jisung’s never felt this way before; like all the air in his lungs have been pulled from his chest, lost to the universe. Not even when he sprinted across the soccer field, not even when he had gotten punched in the chest. All those times, his chest burned with fire, be it anger or passion. But now… his chest feels empty and hollow and numb. He manages to spit out a few words. 
It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to be okay, you’re supposed to go to prom together. Graduate. He’s supposed to get a soccer scholarship, you’re supposed to study journalism at the same school, and the long distance would cease to exist. You were supposed to be happy. “But it’s gonna be okay, right? You’ve fought it before, you can do it again.” Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him to ask for consolation when you were the one with the illness. But you were a journalist, never a liar. Your voice is weak, like you’ve already given up.
“I don’t know.”
-
“What’s up with you?” Chenle’s voice is almost worried, but Jisung wouldn’t be able to tell because his eyes are focused on the ground. He’s been kicking a soccer ball around with Chenle and Mark for a while now, but there’s clearly something very off about the teenager today.
“Yeah, is something wrong?” Mark asks.
Jisung blows some air into his cheeks. Should he tell them? It’s your private information but technically, you’re his girlfriend right? The news has been troubling him for a few days now, and he’s had no one to talk to. Surely, he can’t talk to his sister about it. 
He should just spit it out. “(Name) has cancer.”
It’s like the world stops, his friends taking in his words. “W-What? What did you just say?” Chenle speaks first, then Mark quickly follows. “Did you say (Name) has cancer?”
Keeping his gaze on the ground, Jisung nods and gives the ball a small kick in Mark’s direction. “Yeah. She had leukemia when she was younger, and… the other day she went to the hospital and they said that it came back. Her cancer came back.” When he looks up, both his friends are looking at him with genuine concern etched across their faces. 
“Seriously? Cancer? And you’re still dating her?” Mark asks, causing Jisung to raise an eyebrow in confusion. Did he just insinuate what he thinks he did?
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
Chenle speaks up next, trying to defuse the sudden tension. “Jisung, you guys have only been dating like, a couple months. It was just like yesterday that you kicked her in the head asking her out!” 
“And?” Jisung asks pointedly. Suddenly he’s in front of Chenle, and though he technically towers over the latter in height, Chenle’s chest is straight as he makes his point.
“Is it really worth it to stay on a sinking ship?”
Jisung’s voice reaches a new level of low, erupting from a place deep inside of him that he’s hidden away. It’s a place of rage, of anger sizzling and bubbling in his stomach. Suddenly they’re both chest to chest, unwilling to back down. “Now, I know you’re not talking about my girlfriend.” 
“Hey, hey, hey!” Mark interrupts, hands coming between them to tear the two boys apart. “Calm down. Both of you.”
“He started it,” accuses Jisung quickly, dark eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is not a sinking ship. Neither is my relationship, and I don’t need you to comment on it.” He looks to Mark for guidance. Mark had always been the most logical one, the one he would look to for help, and though he thinks that Mark will agree with him, he almost looks guilty.
“But it’s true, Jisung. We’re worried about you. She’s just a girl. Is she really worth hurting yourself over?” He had trusted Mark to be on his side, but now Jisung just releases a scoff. He had been hoping for his friends’ support, but it seems like he’ll be going through this alone, then.
-
You’ve been avoiding him.
Of course, there’s not much that can be done to avoid him when you live hours away from each other. But you haven’t been responding to his texts, and when you do, they’re mostly short and taut. You’ve been cutting your phone calls short, often saying that you’re tired. Maybe you really are, but it hurts hearing the line cut off, not knowing how you’re really feeling.
Jisung can’t help but feel like he’s failing. He should be doing better.
It’s like your relationship is an hourglass, running out of time with every day that he spends going to school, work, or soccer practice. Like you’re getting further and further away with each short text message.
His entire life has been spent running. Speeding forward center field like a lightning bolt, long legs carrying him far ahead everyone else. But for the first time, Jisung feels like he’s falling behind.
-
It only takes a three hour bus ride (four, with the added stops) but in Jisung’s mind, it’s all worth it. It won’t be the first time he’s gone over to your house, but it is indeed the first he’s ever showed up unannounced, which is a strange appearance given that he lives three hours away. But with everything happening, he’s willing to give up the day and six hours worth of travel for you.
Sitting on the bus, he pulls out his phone. It’s early, like nine in the morning, but he knows you have a doctor’s appointment in a few hours so you’re definitely awake. He presses the facetime button, but you quickly reject his call. His eyebrows furrow, but lighten with an incoming text from you.
[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : jisung, i’m using the bathroom rn. call you back in a bit.
He nearly rolls his eyes, but it’s a sweet one. You’re always so candid.
[ message to : (Name) ♡ ] : you act like you’ve never facetimed me on the toilet before.
[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : wow, call me out more why don’t you
[ message to : (Name) ♡ ] : pick up my call, brat ♡
[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : no, You pick up My call :p
Seconds later, his phone is lit up with an incoming facetime screen. A laugh almost leaves him at your tenacity before accepting the call.
The call opens up to the visual of his girlfriend, you in your PJs fixing the phone up against the mirror in the bathroom. He sees himself reflected in the mini screen, hoodie on and earbuds in wearing a boyish grin. “Hey pretty girl. Make sure you wash your hands.”
You roll your eyes at his remarks. “Hey ugly boy. I’m already doing that. What are you doing?”
“Just making sure, because I don’t think you brushed your teeth after you fell asleep on call the other night,” he teases, clicking his tongue as you’re the only person he can tease so easily. “I’m on the bus to practice.” A lie, but a white one at that. “What are you up to?”
You wack your still dry toothbrush in front of the camera, nose scrunching up in the slightest. It’s a habit of his that you’ve picked up. “I’m also doing that right now.” You wet the brush, putting some toothpaste on it. “I thought you didn’t have practice this Friday? Or was that next Friday?”
Your actions bring a low laugh to his lips, and his eyes momentarily focus on the passing landscape outside the bus window as he’s now three hours out of his normal perimeter. “Uh, Coach wanted to add in a practice today. Don’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?”
You nod at his answer, toothbrush in mouth. “I do, I think it’s like, in a hour or something.”
“Oh, okay,” he replies simply as the bus comes to a stop, your house only a short walk away. He stands, gathering his bag. “Gotta go, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, pumpkin honeysuckle,” he snorts, making his way to the front of the bus. 
Your brows furrow as you give him a disapproving look through the screen, shaking your head slightly before moving to rinse your mouth. “Talk to you soon, don’t get hurt at practice or I’ll fight you.”
He scoffs as he steps out of the bus, into your neighborhood. “Like you could take me. Later.” You probably could, given your determination, but he gives you a nose scrunch before ending the call. He’s only taken a few steps when his phone rings with a text message.
[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : you and i both know i could take you :)
A snort leaves him. Classic (Name).
When he arrives a few minutes later, he hesitates at the door, only praying that the person who opens up is you, not your parents or god forbid, your brother. It only takes a few hard knocks before he hears your voice on the other side, determined to see just who the hell had the nerve to interrupt your laziness this early in the morning. “Who the fu—”
He tsk’s in distaste. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the first words to leave his girlfriend’s mouth are cuss words. “You potty mouth. I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he says, opening his arms.
Jisung’s not quite sure what he expected. For you to jump in his arms? What a delusional boy. You blink for a few seconds, then suddenly you’re throwing yourself at him, fist first to land a deserved punch to his arm. “I thought you had practice? What are you doing here and why do you look so much cuter than when I last saw you?” 
“Well, I lied,” he snickers, patting your head. “I’m here to annoy you, obviously. But you look too. For a—” A person dying of cancer, but he can’t say it. He won’t. “—person who barely got up twenty minutes ago.”
Your hand immediately begins rubbing the spot that your fist landed, worried that it might actually bruise in a bit. Jisung asks, “So are you gonna invite me in, or?”
“What are you, a vampire or something? I’m pretty sure you weren’t given permission when you entered my heart so just come in and cuddle me before my appointment.” 
Your response catches him off guard so he blinks before entering in silently, sticking his hands back into the loose fitting pocket of his hoodie. Even after six months, he’s still not used to you saying those kinds of things. Hell, he still gets sweaty holding your hand.
“Hey Mom! Dad!” You’re grabbing onto his arm, tugging him into the kitchen. “Jisung’s here!”
-
After a small breakfast and conversation with your parents, he’s given the permission to go with you to your doctor’s appointment. The two of you take the bus, hands interlaced as you sit, and Jisung smiles awkwardly when an elderly woman compliments the two of you, calling you a cute couple. 
He’s never really been in a hospital before. 
For an arduous soccer player, he’s lucky enough to never have suffered a pain great enough to warrant a visit to the hospital, nor had he ever been sickly enough to send him there. It’s for that reason that he feels slightly out of place, tucked in his hoodie whilst trying his best not to gaze at the others in the waiting room. Instead, he tries to keep his gaze focused upon his girlfriend as you remain bright despite their surroundings. Your hands intertwined, he feels a comfortable warmth seeping into his veins, gold in color and feeling. Gold like the ring on your finger, and like your heart. 
He’s so lucky to have you.
“I don’t really have anything planned,” he says softly, giving your hand a slight squeeze. It’s true that your itinerary is next to nonexistent for this impromptu date, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If anything, a hospital is a strange starting destination for a date but your relationship is a bit strange. Quietly, he says to you, voice low in the hopes that no one overhears, “Don’t hospitals scare you?”
He knows that you spent a good portion of your time here; surely you must have grown accustomed to it, but Jisung was not. Hospitals were cold… white and bleak and much too quiet.
“Nah, not really,” you answer with a shake of your head. “Except for all the souls wandering around.”
Jisung blinks. “Souls?” He gulps.
“Yup. The souls of the passing.” You click your tongue, along with a wink in his direction now that you’ve successfully managed to creep him out. Do you ever stop making jokes?
The door to the waiting room opens and a medical assistant calls your name. “Hey, I’ll be right back,” you tell him, standing and releasing his arm. He gives a hesitant nod, watching as you leave through the door and disappear down the hall. 
When you emerge, some forty-five minutes later, the mirth is gone from your eyes.
He knows right away: you didn’t get good news. His heart is pumping in his chest, like he’s waiting for you to collapse right there. Years could pass, and Jisung swears he’d never be able to erase that memory of you. “Are you—” Okay, he wants to ask. But you just give him a small smile and shake your head. It’s not the time. He cuts himself short, reaching a hand out to you with a small, albeit forced, smile. “Let’s go on our date.”
-
It’s a long afternoon, spent in the arcade where you had had your first date—this time, for memory’s sake, he gets another ring from the claw machine—then McDonald’s and ice cream. He treats you to lunch, courtesy of his employee discount, and the entire day is filled with laughter and mutual teasing. Everything feels like it’s okay again. 
Jisung enjoys these moments the most.
The moments where he doesn’t feel like he has to be anybody: not the star soccer player, not the kind understanding younger brother, or a kid trying to look grown up at an adult party. With him he’s just you, awkwardness and quirks altogether. You’ve never hid yourself from him, and now he doesn’t have to hide himself either.
Now that the day is touching evening, the two of you sit at a park, relaxing mindlessly on the swings next to each other. Now that the romantic buzz is gone, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable silence.
“Thanks for coming this far, Ji. This was… nice.”
A small smile spreads over his lips. “It was nothing. I wanted to do it for a long time.”
“No, really,” you say, turning to him with a thankful smile. Your eyes are serious now, and Jisung feels the sunlight seep into his skin. “I really missed you.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. This moment feels heavy, like he’ll remember it for years to come. “... I missed you too. A lot.” You both turn back to face the sunset, watching the sun fade behind a hill. It’s setting, streaks of gentle reds and soft-spoken oranges staining the empyrean firmament. It’s then that Jisung feels his heart begin to sink, like the sun, into the pit of his stomach.
“Are you scared?”
A moment passes without you saying anything, then you speak up beside him. “Not really. I mean, it’s just the hospital. The only thing that’ll suck is not being able to leave. I never thought I’d say it but, I’m really gonna miss going to school.”
Did you think you were never going to return? “Are your chances good?”
The implications from earlier at the hospital return. What are the chances that things aren’t looking up? “They say so,” you breath out.
That’s not good enough. Anything could happen. Jisung needs clarification, confirmation. He doesn’t want to lose you. “What if you—”
“I might.”
A beat of silence.
Jisung feels like crying. It gathers in the back of his throat. “What would I do without you?”
There it is: the implication that you’ll be gone. That one day, Jisung will have to wake up and face a world without you in it, a world with less happiness and less passion. A world where there isn’t someone who will call him ugly when really they think he’s the cutest to walk to the earth, or where there isn’t someone to make fun of him the way you do. A world with less love. 
Your voice is dry as you speak. 
“You’d move on.”
“I don’t know if I’d ever love anyone like you,” he finds himself saying. 
“L-Love?” You suddenly say, voice the smallest he’s ever heard. You’ve always had the loudest voice, most prominent in his brain, but his words seem to have caught you off guard. “Do you? Love me?” 
He doesn’t know what love feels like. He’s just a teenager, what is he supposed to know about love? About loss? Is it all-consuming, like in the movies? Is it meant to hurt? “... I think I do. I think I love you.”
There’s a sniffle next to him, and he turns immediately, alarmed that he may have made you cry. There are tears in your eyes, but they don’t fall. Being a writer, you talk too much. Your words are eloquent and true, though sometimes Jisung has a hard time getting you to stop talking. But this time, you choose to abandon words altogether, instead leaving your swing to stand in front of him. Compelled by nature, he stands too. Instead of speaking, you reach upward on your tiptoes once more. Except this time, you kiss him. 
Your lips meet, and everything is golden.
And against the backdrop of the setting sun, it feels like the closing scene of Jisung’s very own romance movie. But this isn’t the end, he knows.
-
When he walks you home, he offers his sweater again. 
This time not out of obligation or the desire to appear more romantic than he is, but because you’re cold. Really cold. You’re shivering, arms wrapped around yourself not giving enough warmth.
“Here,” Jisung says, already beginning to take off his hoodie, but you stop him with a hand and a pointed look, though your chattering teeth cause you to stutter. “S-Still trying to woo me with cheap rom-com tricks?”
You’re stubborn. You’re so stubborn and he hates it.
“Just take it,” he says, pushing it into your arms. 
“No,” you argue. “You have a three hour ride home, it’s late and you’ll be cold.”
It’s obvious your illness has made you even more sensitive to the cold, and for that reason, Jisung’s fine facing the biting cold as long as you’re okay. “You’re freezing, please just take it.”
“Jisung, I said no.” Your voice is stern now, and he gets the feeling that he’s upset you. He gives up, gnawing on his bottom lip in deep thought. He just wants to make you feel better, doing what he thinks will help but with you, it never does. You’re so independent, too much so and much too stubborn to admit you need his help… “Fine,” he says before putting his hoodie back on. If you won’t take his warmth, then he’ll give it to you. 
He lifts his arm, placing it fully around your shoulders and pulling you to him so your bodies meet. “At least let me hold you,” he mumbles. Your frame freezes in his for a moment, until you wrap your arms around the circumference of his chest. 
Burying your face into his side, you relent into him. “Okay, fine.”
And later, he finds that you’re right. When he sits alone on the dimly lit train, he realizes that the warmth he had been feeling earlier, bathing in the sun’s rays with your lips, is long gone. All he feels now, is cold.
-
“You skipped practice the other day.” Jisung looks up from where he had been sitting on the bleachers, tying his shoes after practice. It had been a tough practice; he had missed quite a few passes and whiffed more than just a couple shots. He can only blame himself. He’s been distracted; alongside his worries about you, he also has a job to attend to and even more, the results for his dream school’s soccer scholarship is supposed to come out soon. His gaze falls on all six of his closest friends, looking down at him. 
“Yeah, something came up,” he says easily.
“More like, someone,” retorts Donghyuck easily. “We know you ditched to go see your girlfriend.”
“And what about it?”
“I don’t know what’s happened to you, man. You never want to play ball with us anymore, you don’t want to hang out with us. Whenever you invite you to a party, you raincheck. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” Chenle spits out, arms crossed over his chest.
“Chenle,” says Renjun carefully.
“No,” interrupts the boy in question. Chenle looks straight at Jisung, who stands now to meet the others’ heights. “He needs to hear this. Ever since that girl came around, it’s like you’ve lost your way. You used to be all about soccer and friendship. Now you always have her on your mind, and—did you see the way you played earlier?—she’s messing you up. Your head’s not on straight.”
“Chenle, stop.” Donghyuck speaks up now, voice low as he tries to stop the younger from going off. “You’re not the same Jisung I met in peewee camp, and I don’t know if I like who I’m seeing,” Chenle finishes. 
That’s enough for him. His voice comes out before he can stop it.
“You know why I never party with you anymore?” Jisung suddenly says, voice booming and clearly at his limit. “Because I’ve always hated partying. Because I have a job now, and because I don’t want my sister to stay up worrying about me while I’m getting piss drunk. I hate drinking, I hate trying to look cool while actually looking fucking stupid, because I don’t know how I can even think about partying when my girlfriend is fucking dying.” 
A hearty scoff leaves his lips, as though he can’t even fathom the words he’s faced today. “You don’t even know me anymore? That’s where you’re wrong, because you never knew me. Not all of me. You only see me as the star player who’s gonna get you your win. She knows me, she knows all of me, and she doesn’t try to change me. Well, sorry that I’m not the same kid you met years ago who let everyone walk all over him. I thought you guys were my friends, but clearly you only want me around for as long as I can play.”
Those are the last fiery words to leave Jisung’s mouth before he turns on his heels, storming off the field and away from everyone else. He just needs to get out of here, away from everything before he ruins it. Mark and Hyuck follow after him, while Jeno and the rest hold Chenle back. 
“Don’t listen to him,” Mark says, ever level headed. “We know what you’re going through.”
Though he appreciates their concern, Jisung spits, “No, you don’t.”
Both of them stop walking, no longer chasing after him as Jisung pulls out his phone. 
A new email.
He immediately opens it, eyes glazing over the text.
Dear Jisung Park,
Thank you for applying to our university’s soccer scholarship. We reviewed every application with our utmost dedication and attention. Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that we cannot accept your application at this time. Our soccer program is one of the most competitive at this school, however we encourage you to reapp… 
What a load of shit. 
-
The past few weeks have been horrid. 
Soccer is as tense as ever, though Jisung would be lying if he said that his fight with Chenle didn’t fuel him to work even harder during practice. His job sucks, especially after someone spilled a bucket of old oil on him (it was cold, thank goodness but still gross nonetheless). So far he’s gotten another rejection. Who knew that getting into college would be this hard?
He wishes that he could say his relationship with you is the saving grace, but it’s really not. You’re in the hospital now, and the two of you have been talking less and less. Even now with his feud between his friends, he feels even more alone. Today when he calls, you sound even more tired than usual. 
“Hey, chocolate honeycomb bunny,” Jisung says, giving his absolute worst at giving a cringe-worthy nickname. It seems you’re too tired to even give a repulsed response. 
“Hey.” You’re quiet for a moment, only your breathing heard across the line. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much,” sighs Jisung, running a hand through his dark locks. “Just exhausted. My coworker is getting on my last nerve.”
“The same one you talked about last week?”
“Who spilled the dirty oil on me? Yeah,” he responds with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve both been working the same amount of time, I just want to know why he’s so slow to pick it up.”
It’s characteristic of you to agree, seeing as complaining is one of your favorite past times. But you don’t, voice only coming out softly across the call, “Maybe just give him some time.” 
“Yeah, I don’t know,” he sighs. “How about you? Are you feeling better?”
“About the same,” you respond truthfully. God, you sound so tired. He almost feels bad for making you talk to him when you clearly sound exhausted. “Any more results?” You ask, regarding his college acceptances.
“No,” he shakes his head. He doesn’t understand. He’s a good student, he’s done community service. Just what more do they want from him? “You said I was special, but I don’t think the colleges see that.” 
He can almost see your small smile in his mind. “You are special. Just ‘cause they don’t see it doesn’t you aren’t.”
“Eh, I don’t know,” Jisung says, playing with a loose thread on his bedsheet. 
What you say next catches him off guard. “Maybe we can both be college-less, together.”
“What?” He asks, brows tightening in confusion. “Didn’t you get into the journalism program at that one university?” He’s caught you. You’re silent on the line for a few long seconds, but the quiet is deafening for him.
“I did, but Jisung, I…” You hesitate. “I’m not going.”
“What do you mean you’re not going?” He asks.
“I… I don’t know if I want to.” In a small voice, you continue, “I don’t know that I’ll make it that long.” What are you saying? What are you implying? Heart racing, Jisung tries to decipher these words in his mind. To him, it just sounds like the end.
“You’re giving up already, I hear it in your voice.”
“I’m not,” you say, a broken promise. “I just… want to be prepared for the worst.”
“The worst isn’t coming. You’re going to get through this. You’re going to beat it. I know you are.” It becomes blatantly clear in this moment that the person Jisung is trying to convince, is himself. 
His pleas fall upon deaf ears, because you argue back in what seems like the strongest voice you’ve made in months. As though you’ve amassed all your remaining energy for this conversation. “I’m not a hero, Jisung. I’m not cut out for this. The doctors said it’s not looking good.” 
“Then prove them wrong. You’re gonna beat it.” 
“I don’t want to be the underdog either, Ji. You know I hate them.” What you say next has his blood boiling. “I don’t deserve it anyways, no one would want me to come back.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung raises his voice now, volume growing with each word.
“No one likes me,” you spit out across the line, and he doesn’t need to see you to imagine how incensed you are at the moment. “I’m rude, I’m loud, I cross boundaries and I say things that hurt without caring about who it touches. And before you yell at me that no one thinks of me like that, these are things I’ve heard from other people.” Your voice breaks, as does Jisung’s heart. “If this were a movie, no one would root for me to survive.” 
“I do,” Jisung says, voice strong. “I’m rooting for you. Every. Single. Day. And who cares about how other people see you? You’re rude? You’re crass? I like you because of those things, because you’re different from me. Am I not enough?”
“You’re different,” you relent, voice tired. “You’re the only one who matters. But I—“ You choke up. “I’m just tired of fighting. I don’t want to go to sleep every night not knowing if I’ll wake up the next morning. I want to be strong, and I want to face every day knowing that it could be my last… I don’t want to leave anything behind—”
“You’re not leaving,” he cuts in.
“—and I can’t go through every day letting you think that everything is okay, because they’re not. But I’m ready to let go, Ji. Because I’m happy with what I had, with what we had, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
Tears are falling down his cheeks now, suiciding off the surface of his face and staining his bed sheets. He doesn’t know if the tears are the result of sadness, anger, or the pain of loving someone the universe would never let him have, yet it hurts all the same. “But I love you! I told you that I loved you.”
“I love you too,” you cry, and the sound is heartbreaking. “But I just wish that were enough.”
A pregnant silence consumes both of you. All that can be heard is the sound of your mutual crying, along with your breathing that Jisung had learned to fall asleep to. When you speak again, your voice is steady. You had always been the stronger one. “I don’t think you should call anymore.” A few sniffles. He can’t even speak. “Goodbye, Jisung.”
Then the line dies.
-
It’s Christmastime. He knows it’s cold, probably even colder in the hospital where you are.
Now, Jisung knows you don’t want anything from him. You don’t want him around. In the past weeks he must have become someone even he wouldn’t want around. And though he gets the feeling that you’ll never need him again, he figures you could use a sweater. It’s nothing much, and really he thinks it could be better. 
A hoodie, not fit to your size but slightly larger because he knew you well enough to know you’d like it like that. On one sleeve, near the wrist, a patch of a soccer ball. He had learned how to sew it on himself. On the other, his initials. JS.
He sends it in the mail, in a box to the hospital with your name and room number on it. There’s no letter, nothing. Just his bare soul in the form of an oversized cotton hoodie. He’d send it himself, appearing at the door to your hospital bed, but something tells him he’s run out of things to say.
-
His phone rings at three in the morning. 
He knows what it means.
February 2nd, at 2:39AM. The world lost you. 
It would never be the same again, and neither would he.
-
Grief is an interesting thing, someone once told him. 
He doesn’t quite remember who it was, whether it was his sister comforting him after the death of their goldfish, the guidance counselor at his school giving him a required appointment after the passing of a student, or yourself. But as the hours go by, it feels more and more like a weight in his chest that has been sitting on a hollowed place in his heart. 
Grief is indescribable, and Jisung doesn’t know if this is because his limited seventeen year old vocabulary hasn’t collected enough fitting words to even begin to verbalize his emotions, or if because it really is indescribable. 
The first few days had been hell. 
He had almost become someone that he didn’t know, barely stepping out of bed and perhaps worrying his sister out of her mind. It was his way of ignoring the world, dissociating himself from the irrefutable truth that you weren’t really gone. You were still laying in bed, three hours away as usual, struggling but still fighting. If he could lay in bed, sleeping the days away and ignoring his text message condolences from his friends, he could pretend for some time that things were the way they were, eight months ago. 
Eight months before it.
Eight months before he lost you. Before your relationship, a burgeoning dandelion in the nook of spring. But dandelions represent rebirth, the reappearance of hope like a beacon after an arduous winter, and you would never have another spring. 
He could not pretend, because every morning the sun rose again, and he would have to reach his head out from the burrow of blankets he had buried himself in. He would need to face it for himself that he woke up, and you didn’t. His friends texted. His sister knocked on his door and begged him to eat, even going as far as to cook his favorite foods as a means to lure him from the darkness of his corner. He ate. But it was never the same. 
Messy bedheads, earbuds tucked in with muzak playing gently like the thrum of his heart which beat enough for the both of you, tear-stained pillow cases, knees to the chest, light failing to shine in through the blinds which remained closed, counting the seconds between each breath, dreaming insubordinate dreams. 
The first few days went like that. Empty.
Then he was angry.
Angry because the world had given him a love worth changing for, then ripped it from his inexperienced hands. He had never had anything in his life! Not a mother, not a father. Could he not have this one lily, this flower which sought to remind him of the fragility of life? And even more so, he was angry for you. You were a fire—you were a bottle of passion bursting at the seams, a well of untapped potential, a boldness which no one else could emulate—and the universe crushed you beneath its foot. 
And suddenly, the emptiness of your hollow space reflected upon him.
He should have been better, should have done more. A soccer ball proposition? A sweater? It was laughable; that was the least he could give? If only he had called, if only he hadn’t listened to you like the meek child he was, things could be better. 
And above all, he was sad. 
What would he do without you?
Moving on seemed useless. A light at the end of a dark tunnel which stretched for ages. An epiphany that you would never reach. 
He just hoped that it was not cold. That you left the world in a ball of light, surrounded in the warmth of family and love, not the rigidness of the unforgiving world. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he hoped that the soccer ball sleeve had been clutched to your chest, and that his hoodie could have provided just a little bit of that warmth. 
-
The walking pattern outside his bedroom door is different from his sister’s. So is the knock on the door; his older sister’s is much more quiet, reserved, as though she was afraid to wake him. This one is harsh, and it reverberates through the room before the door opens.
The air in the room is still for a moment.
“Jisung.” 
It’s Chenle. And Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, as well as Jaemin. They all take their seats either on the end of his bed, the floor, or his beanbag, but Jisung doesn’t move from his place underneath the blankets. 
“What do you want?” He manages to groan out in a small voice.
Someone places a hand on his leg, a comforting gesture. He thinks it’s Jaemin from the gentle touch. “We’re here for you.”
Donghyuck comments, “You haven’t been to practice this week.” Of course that would be what they would mention first. Jisung scoffs. “I’m kind of going through something.”
“And we’re here.” Mark’s voice.
“We wanted to apologize.” Chenle speaks now, and despite being best friends since they were five, he’s the last person Jisung expected to say sorry. In their decade-long friendship, Chenle was the confident one, the one who charged forward without consequence while Jisung trailed behind, cleaning up his mess. “We’ve been… assholes, simply put.” Had he been in higher spirits, Jisung would have snorted. “We thought we understood what you were going through, and we thought it was dumb. To let yourself get hurt over some random girl… but we were wrong. We didn’t understand your point of view.”
“Not even a little bit,” says Donghyuck, head hanging low. 
“Yeah, we’re supposed to be your friends. Your team! We’re supposed to lift you up when you’re down and… well, we haven’t been doing that. And we’re sorry. I’m sorry.” Chenle says. Slowly, Jisung lifts his head from below the blanket to face his friends. They all wear a variety of expressions, all somber. “And we know now… she’s not just some random girl.”
Yeah, they’ve all been assholes, some more than others, and Jisung can’t exactly say that they were any help in his struggle. But perhaps this was something he needed to go through alone. At the time, he needed you. But now… he just really needs his best friends. 
Tears sting at his eyes for the nth time. 
“Come here, you crybaby,” says Jaemin, opening his arms.
-
It’s Monday, meaning he has to go back to school today. He’s not ready, how could he be? It hasn’t even been a week since you… left, but he knows he has to go back. His sister, God bless her, had let him take the first few days off but now that the weekend has ended and school has rolled back around, he has no choice.
“You look like shit.”
Donghyuck has always lacked a filter. It would hurt if Jisung didn’t know that Donghyuck meant that in the best way possible. You look like shit, he says. So I’m glad you found it in you to come to school, is what he doesn’t say. 
Jisung closes his locker with a sigh. “Thanks.” 
“No problem,” snickers his friend, and Jisung turns his head to find Mark and Jaemin approaching. “Morning,” greets Jaemin as he taps the top of Jisung’s head, despite being shorter.
“Hi,” responds Jisung quietly, clutching his chemistry textbook to his chest. The three of them look at him with quiet and somber eyes, but don’t say anything. Mark places a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a small rub.
“You got this.” 
The truth is, he can’t do this. The world feels quiet and empty, lacking a particular passion that you used to always embody. It could be worse. Thank goodness your relationship was rather private; he doesn’t know how he’d be able to function at school had there been curious eyes on him, if you had gone to the same school as him. 
The day goes rather slowly, and Jisung busies himself with catching up on his work that he had missed. He could almost pretend like things are normal. It’s not until fifth period calculus that something strange happens. 
An office TA pokes her head in and scrambles over to the teacher, who was in the midst of a very enthralling lecture on integrals that Jisung was definitely not paying great attention to. The TA whispers something into the teacher’s ear, then hands her a piece of paper. Mrs. Huang nods, then suddenly Jisung finds her eyes on him. “Jisung, Mr. Moon wants you in his office.” 
Him? Why him of all people?
Mr. Moon is the guidance counselor at their school, and Jisung has a moment of internal panic—had he somehow found out about you? Should he prepare himself for a lecture about grief and moving on? 
With a gulp, he nods. 
Mr. Moon is a fairly nice man, with a friendly smile and a reputation for being a pushover teacher. Jisung had met with him a few months ago to discuss his desire to pursue a soccer scholarship but he highly doubts that’s the case now.
When Jisung enters Mr. Moon’s office, the first thing he sees isn’t Mr. Moon but a tall man with a stoic expression standing behind his desk. In contrast to the stranger, Mr. Moon wears his trademark smile. “Jisung, good to see you. Still getting a kick out of that old ball?” 
Of course, Mr. Moon doesn’t know that Jisung skipped practice all last week to mope in his bed, but Jisung nods politely. “Yes, sir.”
“Good,” responds the teacher with a smile. “Take a seat.”
He gestures to the chair in front of his desk, and cautiously does Jisung take a seat. The tall, bruff man is still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, having not yet said a single word. Somehow the atmosphere is tense, and Jisung’s quite sure he knows what this is about. 
“Now, Jisung, I’ve called you in today because—”
“Is this about (Name)?” Perhaps it’s a bit rude of him, but Jisung doesn’t want to be prodded at, at least not by people who think they know him. The last thing he wants is pity. 
Mr. Moon’s eyebrow raises just the slightest, and he leans forward on his desk. “Why, yes, it is. How did you know?”
A scoff leaves Jisung’s lips, but it’s much weaker than he would like. “My question is, how did you know? Who told you?” Who was it that shared information on his personal life? Was it his sister? His friends? 
“Nobody had to tell me, Jisung. (Name) sent the letter to me herself.”
Wait… what? 
Jisung blinks, hands falling slack on his lap. “W-What? What letter?”
Perhaps his staring is a bit too obvious, for Mr. Moon gestures to the stranger in question with a hand. “Jisung, this is Johnny Seo.” Finally, the intimidating stranger has a name. “Johnny is the head coach of the soccer team at Greenwood University—” Wait, Greenwood University? That’s Jisung’s dream school—well, it was his dream school, until they rejected his application for a soccer scholarship. What would they want to do with him? “—and he wants to offer you a full-ride scholarship.”
What? 
Jisung’s mouth falls open. What? What the hell? Hadn’t they just rejected him three months ago? His eyes must be bugging out of his face, so he blinks repeatedly, trying to find the words to say. 
“W-Wait, what? A… A full ride?” He stammers, unable to find his tongue.
The man named Johnny only nods. “Full ride. Covered tuition, dorming, and soccer costs. All you have to do is keep your grades up and keep scoring those fancy goals of yours I’ve heard about.”
“But—But, you rejected me… why now?” 
For the first time, Johnny gives a small smile. “Because of the letter.” There it is, that letter again that Jisung has no idea about. He looks to Mr. Moon for guidance. All the counselor does is open his desk drawer and pull out an envelope, which he slides across his desk. “(Name) (Last Name) wrote a recommendation letter to the university, and honestly, it was stunning. It was enough to make the admissions board… bend a little, to say the least.” 
Reaching forward, Jisung grabs the envelope and examines it in his hands. It’s opened, but yes, on the front is your handwriting. He’s cried so much this past week that he doesn’t know how many times tears have touched his eyes, but they sting once more. This time, he doesn’t let them fall. 
“She… wrote a letter. For me?” 
“That she did,” responds Mr. Moon. 
“She’s right,” says Johnny suddenly. “In our work at the university, we’re always looking for the best of the best. We should look deeper, sometimes.” The words sink in the room, and Jisung finds himself staring down at the envelope in his hands. What things had you had to say about him?
Honestly, all he can think about is his failure. How he failed to be there for you, how he cowarded in your presence when you told him to leave you alone. He bites down on his lip. 
“So? Will you accept our offer?” 
Jisung looks up again, meeting Johnny’s expectant eyes. “I…” His mouth suddenly runs dry. “I don’t know, I… I need to think about it.”
“You’re not graduating for another four months. Take your time.” Slowly, still in glassy-eyed disbelief, Jisung nods. His fingers find the edge of the envelope, tracing its pointed edge. You wrote that for him. From across the desk, Mr. Moon speaks up. “You should read that letter, Jisung, and realize what’s coming for you: good things.” 
-
To Whom It May Concern,
Hello. My name is (Name) (Last Name), and I am a high school student writing this letter to appeal a rejection by your university. Not of my own application, but of an extraordinary person with the name Jisung Park. In my humble opinion, I believe that your institution has made a grave mistake in not offering a scholarship to Jisung. So, I write this letter to appeal such a rejection, and to do something that he hated, though it was what I always did best: write about Jisung. 
Now, Jisung is a humble person who never speaks up about his struggles, but the truth is that of all students, I believe he is the most in need of this scholarship. His parents passed when he was young, and he grew up in the care of his older sister who raised him. Their small but strong family made sacrifices, gave up luxuries, and endeavored to survive. 
In the midst of this crisis, Jisung found his one savior: soccer. 
He is, without a doubt, the best soccer player I have ever seen in my entire life. He can sprint across the field in half a normal player’s time, and I’ve never seen him miss a goal or a pass. But his soccer prowess isn’t what makes him great. Moreover, Jisung is the person you want on a team. He believes in teamwork, but is always striving to be better. He doesn’t want to stand out, but does so anyways. He is never arrogant, nor boastful. If there is one person who deserves this, it’s him.
But, I am sure that you are thinking: why should this letter mean anything to you? I’m not a highly valued individual in the community, nor have I done anything significant for my name to mean anything. I’m only a seventeen year old student, a struggling journalist. 
The answer to that question is, I know Jisung Park. You only see his grades, the shallow things on his application. You will never get to see the Jisung Park that I knew and loved. 
In my time alive, Jisung Park made an impact on my life that will never be forgotten. Even when life seemed the darkest, not a beam of light in the field's view, Jisung picked me up and made me see the sunset. I know now, the sunset is beautiful, warm, and comforting—everything that Jisung is. He never left my side, and never for a single moment did I ever feel alone in his presence. The world often overplays the saying “a heart of gold,” but the truth is that Jisung has one.
I used to think that love would be red, like the burning of one’s lungs racing down a soccer field, or black and white, made to be simple. But the truth is, love is golden. Golden like the sunset painting streaks against the floor, golden like Jisung. It’s a warmth that covers you from head to toe, relenting into a future that you don’t know. 
He is my golden boy, and he can be yours too. 
I may not have a future, but if there’s one thing that I know, it’s that Jisung deserves one. 
I’m a journalist. I don’t write love letters, but perhaps this is the closest I can ever get. And should Jisung ever read this letter, I hope he knows that with this, I dedicated my last spark of sunlight to him. 
Sincerely,
(Name) (Last Name)
-
Your funeral occurs on February 13th, a week and four days after your passing. 
Jisung stands in front of the bathroom mirror, nose scrunched in concentration as he makes a feeble attempt on his necktie. This is surely not as easy as throwing on a soccer jersey. “Ugh,” he groans, fingers getting confused again.
“Need help?”
His sister’s dainty voice calls him from the bathroom door. Dressed in all black, she’s ready too. Turning his head, Jisung sighs. “Please.” She makes his way toward him, fingers coming to work on his tie already with steady hands. 
“You’re too tall now,” she says softly, with a chuckle. It’s true; he used to look up to her, physically and figuratively, but now he’s an entire head above her. “You’ve grown up a lot.” 
It was his eighteenth birthday just a few days ago but to be quite honest, he hadn’t had the heart to celebrate it. If anything, he had always thought that his eighteenth birthday would be like an epiphany for him. As though he would wake up the morning of, feeling like an adult with all the answers to the world.
The truth is, he’s eighteen now and he still feels like he has no idea what he’s doing. 
“I don’t feel any different,” he admits. “I thought eighteen would mean something.”
“You’ll get there, trust me. And anyways, I always told you not to grow up too fast.”
For a moment there’s a silence as his sister swoops the tie in and out, weaving it to form the perfect knot. Feeling something scratch at the back of his throat, Jisung speaks. “... I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for, silly? I was the one who never taught you how to knot a necktie,” she chuckles. 
“Not for that,” he says. “For last week. I… probably scared you.”
Suddenly, his sister is wearing that demure smile of hers again. The one that is small and polite, but always seems to carry more weight in it than he can see. “No. It’s okay, I knew you’d be better.” 
Naeun finally finishes the knot, tightening it the slightest around Jisung’s neck. “There you go.” He offers her a small thanks as he turns to look in the mirror, and she begins to leave. A sigh leaves him; there’s no avoiding it now, he’s ready to go.
“You know, Jisung,” she suddenly speaks up from the doorway. “I’m glad that you met her. Even if it ended up like this… you’re different. In a good way, and I think she had a lot to do with it. Even if you don’t feel different… you are.”
-
In the months of your relationship, Jisung had come to learn your insecurities. You were loud and proud, but with that confidence came an unwavering insecurity that you were unliked by those you spilled your tongue to. At the funeral, Jisung sees that that’s not at all true.
People give speeches for you, place flowers on your grave. The school newspaper had even written an article to commemorate your presence on their team, and the president of the club reads it aloud. A number of hospital staff make their appearance.
Even Jisung’s friends show up, despite the clear memory of them calling you crazy early on. Maybe they were right, maybe you were crazy. But he probably was too.
It doesn’t rain a single drop, though it had been pouring for three days before. Instead, the sun peeks through the overcast clouds, gifting sunshine. 
Jisung smiles. 
He probably looks like an idiot, carrying the soccer ball around the entire funeral but he knows what it means to him, and what it means to you. When he places it on your grave, the grass still fresh, his eyes catch the carefully written words on a singular white spot.
I love you. 
He knows that he means it. 
At eighteen, there a lot of things that Jisung still doesn’t know. But even so, there are a handful of truths that he can hold onto forever. One, he’s still an incredible soccer player and girls are still very scary. But like soccer, maybe that just takes time and practice. 
Two, growing up isn’t about a number. It’s not about partying or drinking, nor is it about rushing into relationships that have little meaning. For years Jisung had wanted to grow up, to face the world with no fears and be able to cruise through. But he knows now that growing up is about being strong in the face of sadness, pain, grief. About waking up every morning even if you feel like you have no reason to. 
Love is the same.
Love isn’t about making out on the bleachers after practice or trying to copy the coy clichés seen in romance movies. It’s about the sacrifices, like four hour bus rides. It’s about communication and connection, like a recommendation letter traced in gold. Because of you, he’s moving forward. He can go to college, and the day will never come when he stops being grateful toward you and everything you’ve done. That’s love, and he will spend the rest of his life loving you. Maybe the love will change but it will always be love. 
It hurts that you’re gone, it really does. Jisung doesn’t think it’ll ever stop hurting.
But the last thing he knows is that things will be okay.
Life moves on, and he will too. 
668 notes · View notes
flosbelova · 3 years
Text
whatever you want us to be
florence pugh x actress!reader
summary: you’re an actress and florence pugh is one of your competitors. you’re both really good actors, but one tends to outact the other during auditions. this creates a small competition between the two of you. when you both get cast in a film where you both play a couple, your world turns upside down.
warnings: suggestive content
word count: 2.6k
after getting the call from your agent that you booked one of the lead roles, you screamed at the top of your lungs for about five minutes. you were so excited because this is your first time, finally getting a lead role. you would have gotten the chance to get the lead in other films, but the great florence pugh always beat you to it. well, you can’t lie, she’s a damn good actress. but now, you both have created this little competition between the both you. 
your heart just about dropped out of your ass when you saw the Deadline announcement. florence pugh was playing your significant other. how fucking great. 
-
it’s the first day of rehearsals and you made sure to get there just a bit early. you looked around, to check if any of your co-stars were there and you seemed to be in the clear. you decided to walk up to the director to create a more mutual relationship, but you stop in your tracks when you see a blonde next to the director. 
of course.
you shake the feeling off and say hi to the director. 
“oh y/n! you’re here early, you are just the person i was looking for,” the director says. 
“oh, really?” you ask, surprised. 
“yeah, um, have you had the chance to meet this wonderful young lady next to me?” the director asks.
you look at florence and force a smile. “yes, we have met a couple times,” you say nodding your head. 
florence catches onto your attitude and glares at you. when the director turns to look at her, her mood shifts immediately and smiles at the director. 
“well, i’m sensing some tension here, so why don’t we rehearse one of the scenes to shake some of that nervousness off?” the director insists. 
nervousness? i think it’s more of annoyance. 
you get to your spots and the director calls for action. 
you were both rehearsing the scene where they both confess their love for each other for the first time. you manage to do well (or so you think) even if you cringed on the inside. 
“CUT,” the director yells. 
“okay, y/n, that was good but i’m gonna need more emotion from you. you have to feel your character’s feelings and get into their head. florence, you did a great job, but just make sure to look like you’re acknowledging what y/n’s character is saying, okay?” the director advises. 
“yes, thank you,” you both said in unison. both of you side eyed each other, both feeling the disgust within yourselves. 
“alright, let’s try it again,” the director says. 
-
after many takes of rehearsal, you were finally able to take the rest of the day off. sure, you can say it was easy, but having to look at the face of your competition didn’t help your mood. 
of course, florence is beautiful. you’ve never seen anyone quite like her. but you just can’t shake the fact that she was someone you had competition with. 
-
filming finally began and its safe to say that you were doing well. you were hitting your lines and because of a little soul searching, you’ve only had to have a couple takes. 
today, you were filming the big confession. it was that cliché confession under the rain and you were kind of excited for it. you and florence have both rehearsed this scene about a hundred times now, but you never rehearsed the kiss. yes, maybe that’s a bit unprofessional, but you’ve both had this unspoken thing of “we’ll just do it when we have to do it.” well, today was that day. 
thinking to yourself, you were a great kisser. you’ve kissed many people in movies, so how can this one feel any different?
-
“ACTION!” the director yells. 
“I LOVE YOU YOU IDIOT!” you say. “i’ve loved you since the day i met you! i can’t stop thinking about you, i lose sleep every night because i can’t get you out of my head!” 
you walk towards florence, and grabs her hands. “i love you too.”
you both lean in and WOW. her lips were soft. she tasted like strawberry chapstick and you wanted more. you don’t know what overcame you, but the taste of her lips felt so good. 
you could tell florence felt the same way too. she held onto you a little too tightly and moved her hand to the back of your neck. florence let her tongue slip in and you accepted. 
before things got more heated, the director yelled “CUT!”
you and florence pulled away slowly, keeping eye contact. 
“THAT. WAS. AMAZING!” the director exclaims. “you both did a phenomenal job!”
“thank you,” you both said in unison again. this time, you look at each other and smiled. 
“alright, well, that’s a wrap for today! great job everyone. go home and the both of you, dry yourselves. i can’t have both my leads getting sick,” the director says. 
-
you dried yourself off in your trailer and started to get yourself ready for bed, when you hear a knock on your door. you open it and you’re shocked to see who’s at your doorstep— florence. 
“hey, what are you doing here?” you ask her. 
“i just um, i couldn’t sleep. could i come in?” she asks. 
“um,” you hesitate for a moment. why the hell does she wanna come in my trailer? is this some kind of game? “sure. come in.”
you reach your hand out to help florence up the steps. god her hands are so soft. y/n shut the fuck up. you’re not supposed to like her.
you smile at florence as she steps into your trailer. “welcome to my humble abode.”
“hm, well not exactly, looks exactly like mines,” she teases. 
you roll your eyes, “so what do you want?” you ask, sounding kind of rude. 
florence raises her eyebrows, “wow. um okay,” she takes a deep breath, “i’m just here to talk and i guess get to know each other, since we clearly have gotten off on the wrong foot,” she breathes out. 
“um, what do you wanna talk about?” you ask, taking caution. 
“just the basics. like, where you’re from, where’d you go to school, if you have a dog. anything really,” she says. 
“um, i’m from a small town in the bay area, i moved down here in LA to follow my dreams of becoming an actor. i went to UCLA and took film. and i don’t have a dog because im always busy,” you answer her. 
“okay,” she says, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 
“what about you?” you ask her. 
“well, i grew up in oxford, got my first acting gig at 17, and now here i am. and i have a dog back home,” she says smiling. 
there was silence for a minute. all you could hear was your breathing. 
“okay, uh, i should get going now,” florence says, making way for your door. 
your brain was somehow on autopilot because what came out of your mouth should have never been spoken into existence. 
“you’re a great kisser by the way,” you say, instantly regretting opening your mouth. 
the blonde stops walking and turns to look at you with an amused look on her face. 
“what did you just say to me?” she asks, a mischievous smile forming on her face. 
“i, uh, i didn’t- i didn’t say anything,” you say scratching your head. 
“you know, you do that a lot when you lie,” she says, furrowing her brows. 
“do what?” you ask.
“the uh- the head scratch thing you do when you’re lying,” she says, mimicking your head scratch. 
“what? no i don’t.” you scratch your head. 
florence chuckles. “see. you did it again!” 
“whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. 
“i noticed it a lot when we were in rehearsal. i remember i’d ask you questions and there goes your hand scratching your head. it actually surprised me that there wasn’t blood gushing out of your head with the amount of times you’ve scratched it,” she says, giggling. 
“ha ha, you’re hilarious. what else have you noticed?” you asked her, getting annoyed at this point.
“well,” she takes a couple steps closer to you. “i also noticed that you’re also a great kisser,” she says, her accent getting thicker, her face inches away from yours. 
you feel yourself gasp as she moves closer to you. if you moved your face even a bit, your lips would be on hers. 
“so, do you wanna prove it to me?” she says, her voice getting lower. 
“prove what?” you ask, feeling the tension rising up. 
“that you’re a great kisser,” she says in her husky voice. 
you look at her eyes and it’s like they’re piercing through your soul. you noticed her gaze changed when she started leaning into you. you closed your eyes and leaned in, breaking the gap between the both of you. 
her lips were on yours once again. it had felt like heaven was on earth. it was as if the world stopped and the both of you were the only ones moving. she had that strawberry chapstick taste and you were hungry for more.
deepening the kiss, you grab the back of her neck and wrap your hands around her waist. you pulled away to catch your breath and started heading towards your bed.
you laid florence on her back, and before anything could proceed, you ask her, “what does this make us?”
“anything you want us to be,” she says with a smirk on her face. 
and with that, you proceed with your night.
clothes were taken off and thrown behind you. gasps and moans filled the air. dirty words were spoken, and her hands wrapped around your neck. that night, you realized that florence liked to be dominant. 
-
you woke up the next morning, and felt a body next to you. you looked to your side and saw a blonde head resting on your chest, with her arms wrapped around your torso. 
everything from last night started coming back. your eyes widened as you realized, i slept with my co-star.
you tried to pull away as slowly as you can, but as you moved her arm away, she woke up. 
florence’s morning face so cute. her eyes and cheeks were puffier than normal and her lips were a bit swollen from last night. she looked up at you and smiled. she pulled herself up, to kiss you on the cheek. 
“good morning, darling,” she says, her morning voice filling your ears. 
“good morning,” you say, slightly confused. 
you rubbed your eyes and placed your hand on your forehead. “oh my god we slept together. this is so unprofessional.”
“shhh, don’t worry sweetheart,” florence says, pressing her finger on your lips. “i don’t kiss and tell.”
“florence this is serious, we could lose our jobs,” you begin. 
“what part of ‘i don’t kiss and tell’ do you understand?” she asks. “besides, i told you that we could be whatever you want us to be.” 
you look at her, and raise a brow.
“and if you want us to be co-stars who sleep together, then that’s fine with me,” she says. 
“i’m sorry, what?” you say, sitting up. your hide your face into your hands for a second, and turn to look at her. “do you, do you do this often? like with your co-stars? is this what you do?”
“i’m sorry, are you accusing me of.. wow y/n, i thought you were better than that,” florence says, getting off your bed. 
“no, no, that’s not what i meant, i-“ 
“save it,” she interrupts you. “i’ll see you on set.”
florence picks up her clothes and puts them on and heads out of your trailer. 
you put your hands on your face and sigh, falling back down on your bed. 
-
it had been weeks since you and florence had spoken to each other. the only time you had really spoken was when you had to act together. other than that, florence didn’t really acknowledge your presence. you had tried to talk to her, and tried to apologize and explain yourself but she would always get away. you even tried texting her, and leave her voicemails. you were always left on read and your calls were never returned. 
it was the last day on set and you made it your goal to finally talk to her and apologize. 
“CUT! THAT IS OFFICIALLY A WRAP! CONGRATULATIONS EVERYONE!” the director exclaims.
clapping was heard around the set. you and your fellow actors and crew had finally did it, the movie was finally finished and will start the editing process as soon as possible. 
you were heading back to your trailer for your last night, before you had to leave in the morning. you opened the door to your trailer and says a vase of flowers. there was a card next to it that read, “congratulations on the wrap! i had great fun working with you.” of course, she’s just congratulating you to be nice. nothing personal. 
“p.s. open your door. xx”
what? 
you open your door, to your surprise, it’s florence. you were so happy to see her that without thinking, you pulled her into your trailer and hugged her tightly.
“god i thought you hated me,” you said on her shoulder.
she pulled away and pushed you back, and you felt your heart break. you spoke too soon. 
she sighed and grabbed your hands. she kissed your knuckles and placed your hands on her face. she smiled at you. “i could never hate you.”
you felt yourself finally able to breathe. you leaned in, but she placed her finger on your lips, stopping you. 
“i listened to your many voicemails and read your texts. i need some time to think and i’m ready to answer you. yes, i forgive you. and i agree, we should start over. i would love to go to a café and properly get to know each other. and yes, i’m going to be honest, i missed you too,” she answers. 
you deeply breathed in and out and tried to process what florence had just said. once everything clicked, you smiled. 
“can i please kiss you now?” you pleaded. 
“yes,” she smiled. 
you leaned in and kissed her, finally. not only have you missed her, but you missed her lips as well. even if you had kissed her during your scenes, this kiss was real. it wasn’t behind a camera. this was real life. it was your reality. 
pulling away to catch your breath, you rest your forehead against hers. 
“so, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” you ask. 
“what do you mean?” she says look at you. 
“i mean, there’s clearly feelings involved here, are we gonna talk about that?” 
“take me out on a date first and maybe we’ll have a chat about it,” she teases. 
you roll your eyes. 
“besides, i thought the sex explained it,” she says. 
“well, maybe we should try again so that the feelings are more clear,” you wittily say. 
she lightly slaps you on the arm and rolls her eyes. “let’s see how our date goes, and maybe i’ll show you how clear my feelings are.”
you smile again and felt butterflies in your stomach. this woman might just be it for you. 
the end
345 notes · View notes
streetlight11 · 3 years
Text
Love Notes
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Summary: People usually mistake Slytherins as the mean and nasty ones. Nobody told you that you would be stuck with the loud and obnoxious boy from Gryffindor. One day during your fifth year, you started receiving anonymous notes in your books, pockets, table, etc. The question is, who gave them to you?
Theme: Hogwarts au, enemies to lovers
Genre: fluff, angst [not really]
Warnings: none
WC: 4.9k
Pairing: Gryffindor!Haknyeon x Slytherin!FemReader
a/n: Hi again :) I've been binge watching Harry Potter movies for the past few days and I love it so much. So here's a little Hogwarts fic with Hakkie! Do send me requests if you have any! I'm open to writing them :)
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Going to Hogwarts was probably the best thing to happen to you. And getting yourself sorted into Slytherin house was also the best thing to ever happen to you. Except, nobody told you that you would have a horrendous time being in the same classes as the loud and obnoxious boy from Gryffindor.
His name?
Was Ju Haknyeon.
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“Did you lose your way to class again today?” Haknyeon teased when you arrived at your seat that just so happens to be right in front of him. You were in your fifth year and yet he has never once gone a day without getting on a single nerve on your body.
“Did you lose your pacifier on your way here cause you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut.” You scowled at him only to earn a soft chuckle from him.
“Look who’s talking now…” Haknyeon smirks, earning a kick to his desk from you. Your seat partner and also one of your close friends, Wooyoung couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the said boy.
Professor Snape finally dismissed the class as everyone quickly scrambled out of the room. You were walking with Wooyoung and Yeosang as the former began rambling about his terrible date yesterday when you suddenly felt an arm over your shoulder. The last person you hoped for it to be, ends up proving you wrong the minute he spoke.
“Hey hey, have you practiced for the Quidditch game this season? Wouldn’t wanna lose your Quidditch title to other houses.” Haknyeon whispered into your ear, making you push his face away.
“Do you ever shut up?” You said as he smirked, casually pursing his lips into a kissy face.
You rolled your eyes at him, elbowing his stomach to make him leave your side. Haknyeon left your side for a brief moment before coming back to you to stop in front of you while leaning down a little to match your height. Once he was right in front of you, he smirked cheekily at you.
“I won’t shut up when I’m with you, darling.” He whispered.
You cupped his face with both hands, only to lean in to let your lips hover over his as you whispered under your breath, “Don’t make me do it for you, sweetheart.” The moment you pulled away from him and began to walk away, Haknyeon could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a few beats.
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“Now, class, please open to page 367.” Professor McGonagall announced as you heard the sounds of pages being turned. You did the same, flipping the pages a few at a time until a slip of note drops out from your book. It was a pretty blue colour that has been folded into the shape of a flower.
“Did you put this in my book?” You asked Wooyoung who was seated beside you, only for him to shake his head. Just then, a voice came from behind you.
“Oh look, the Slytherin’s princess got herself a love note.” Haknyeon said. It annoyed you to the point where you had to cast a spell on him from under your desk to shut him up for 2 hours. A few weeks have gone by and you have been getting anonymous notes slipped into your textbooks, locker, and sometimes even in your coat pockets.
However, all the notes always end up in your bag, never touched or read before.
It was a Thursday afternoon and you were just walking into your Transfiguration class when a female student from Hufflepuff came up to you giddily excited as she informed you what she saw.
“Omg Y/N! Someone gave you a rose and a letter! It’s on your desk!” She squeaked, allowing a couple of eyes to land on you, who was standing at the back of the class with Wooyoung and Yeosang. With that being said, you glanced over to your desk to find that she was right.
However, you noticed that Haknyeon’s table was empty. Maybe he finally got sick and couldn’t come to class today.
“The Slytherin’s princess got a gift today huh? That’s new.”
Maybe not.
Haknyeon said casually as he strolls past you with his hands tucked into his pant’s pockets while he makes his way over to his desk. You rolled your eyes at the back of his head before walking up to your desk and soon took the rose and note only to stuff it in your bag.
“Why don’t you read it outloud for all of us to hear, darling? I’m sure your admirer would love to see the way your eyes turn into heart shapes for them.” Haknyeon smirked.
You couldn’t lie, Haknyeon has in fact gotten slightly more manlier in built and also a bit more nicer looking in terms of his face features.
Which is why you’d be damned if you admitted out loud that your heart did a little flip when he smirked at you.
“The last person I’d wanna read it aloud to is you so no, that won’t happen.” You grumbled before sitting down at your desk. Wooyoung couldn’t help but chuckle as he told you about Haknyeon's offended face he made after you said that.
A few hours later, everyone was making their way back to their common rooms after dinner. You were just walking towards the Slytherin’s common room when Felix spoke up to you, “Hey, is it true you’ve been getting love notes from someone in class?”
“I don’t know what they are, I’ve never opened them.” You confessed, earning a few gasps from your friends.
“Aren’t you even a slight bit curious?” Minho asked.
“Look, I doubt it’s even real. It might just be a prank from someone. I don’t know…” You said almost confidently.
“Oh come on, just open one and see what it says. It doesn’t hurt to read one.” Wooyoung encouraged you as you rolled your eyes at him. It was already after hours. Everyone was asleep except you. So you quietly tip-toed your way to the living area, only to sit near the green fireplace with your bag filled with the notes you kept for the past 5 weeks. You took one of the notes out and soon unfolded it one after another.
“You look pretty today.”
“Your eyes sparkle like the green flames of your house.”
“You make me forget why I’m in this class.”
“Your smile could cure my sadness.”
“If only the clouds would make way for a sunshine like you”
“Don’t lose that smile, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen”
“Are you a love potion? Cause I feel like I’ve fallen in love with you”
You then happened to take out the note that was attached to the rose you got earlier in which it said;
“A pretty flower for a pretty girl like you.”
And the list goes on and on as you read them. However, one thing you noticed was the lack of initials, leaving these notes anonymous.
“Who are you?”
This question swirls in your head as you keep these notes in a little treasure chest your mom gave you for your 15th birthday.
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You were on your way to the Quidditch field to play for the Quidditch Tournament with your team members. Upon making it to the courtyard, you just so happen to bump into Haknyeon. You noticed the Red and Gold striped sweater, along with his pants and a cloak in contrast to your full Quidditch attire together with the arms and leg gears.
“Hey guys, mind if I steal ‘yours truly’ for a moment? I promise I’ll bring her back to you guys in one whole.” Haknyeon smiles innocently to your friends, earning a few snickers from them but they nonetheless left you alone with him.
Once they were out of sight, you turned to him with a frown.
“What do you want now, Ju? And make it quick. I have a game to win.” You snapped, earning a chuckle from him.
“Relax beasty, I won’t hold you back for long.”
“So what do you want?”
“You know this is a seasonal championship right?”
“And?”
“And this year’s winner will be titled the Season’s Champion, yes?”
“O...kay?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question, not sure where this conversation was heading to.
“So let’s make a bet.”
You started to laugh as you clutched your stomach, afraid of growing six packs while you did that. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the same response from him which made you confused and eventually stopped.
“A bet? You wanna make a bet? Sure. You’ll only be crying at the end of it cause Slytherin’s gonna take the prize home.”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. So let’s make a bet.” Haknyeon urges you again, to which you couldn’t help but agree just so you could prove him wrong.
“Fine. If Slytherin wins, you’re gonna leave me alone for the rest of the year.” You said.
“And if Gryffindor wins, you have to go on 3 dates with me.” He announced. You weren’t gonna lie, you were a little shocked by his proposal but you didn’t want to back out now so you shook hands on it.
“Deal.”
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“Choi Jongho has gotten the snitch! Gryffindor wins!” Lee Jordan, the commentator from Gryffindor announced as you slammed your fist onto your broomstick. You’ve lost a few times before throughout your 5 years in Hogwarts but today was a little different as you had your bet with Haknyeon hanging by a thread.
You were floating about 10 feet away from Gryffindor’s stand, your gaze naturally fleeting to the left only to lock eyes with the blonde haired devil from Gryffindor who had a smirk on his face before he mouthed something so clear to you.
“I win.”
You couldn’t even respond to him so you simply flew down and back into your pitch tent along with the rest of your teammates. After you were done with post-game preps, you all began to make your way back to your common rooms.
It wasn’t until you were at the grand staircase that you bumped into Haknyeon and his friends. He gave you a cheeky little wink before snapping his fingers and soon, you felt a slip of paper magically appear in your hands.
You kept it in your hands until you went back, only opening it when you were in your bed.
“Nice game. I hope you don’t forget about our bet. See you at Three Broomsticks Inn, this Saturday. 12pm. Don’t be late. Oh, and, wear prettily ;) - JHN”
You were definitely in for a treat.
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The day finally came as you made an excuse to your friends saying you couldn’t go with them to Hogsmeade because you promised to help Ginny with her Muggle studies. The minute they left, you got upstairs to change out of your pyjamas and into some comfortable jeans, a sweater, a denim jacket and a pair of worn out sneakers.
You teleported to Hogsmeade using the Floo Powder your mom gave you just in case you needed to rush home due to an emergency.
You arrived at a dark alley in Hogsmeade, making sure your friends weren’t around before you left the safety of that alley. Carefully walking past some villagers, you found your way to the Inn without getting caught. With one gentle push of the wooden door, you were immediately greeted by the bustling customers.
You looked around the room to find for the devil who shall not be named and Lord Behold, he waves over to you from one of the tables across the room. You almost lost your footing when you saw what he wore.
It was almost as if he knew what you were going to wear. He was wearing black pants with a denim jacket. Simple yet so good looking.
You went over to him only to sit on his left where it was nearer to the edge of the semi circle couch.
“You’re late, you know?” Haknyeon laughs.
“Yeah but I’m here aren’t I?” You scoffed softly under your breath, earning a little giggle from him.
“On our first date too? You’re a terrible one.” He joked.
“Fine then. Go find someone who’s on time for your date, maybe they’ll actually arrive earlier than you.” Right before you could slide out of the seat, Haknyeon gently grabs your wrist to stop you.
“Relax, I’m just kidding… Come on, butterbeer on me. Deal?” He asked, shaking his wallet in between his fingers as though telling you he really meant it when he said he’ll pay for it.
Of course you couldn’t let this moment up, which is why you agreed to it. Unfortunately, right before he could slide out the opposite end of the table, your eyes flew over to the front doors where the bell chimed indicating a customer. That’s when you saw your friends walking in and you could’ve sworn they would see you in a matter of seconds if they just turned to the left slightly.
“Oh shit!” You cursed as you grabbed hold of Haknyeon’s collar only to drag him out of the table and soon towards the back. Haknyeon was a little taken aback by your sudden aggression as he began to ask you a series of questions.
You quickly pulled him behind one of the pillars, shoving him against the concrete wall as you peeked past the pillar.
“Okay, if you want to kill me, at least do it when we’re in private.” He teased you.
“Shut up. My friends are here. I lied to them saying I can’t join them.” You whispered, trying to see if your friends wouldn’t make it to the back. What you didn’t realize was the way Haknyeon was discreetly checking you out.
“You know, for a Slytherin, you’re not as sly as you think you are. What makes you think they can’t figure out it’s you from a dist-”
“Kiss me.”
You suddenly spoke as he stared at you with wide eyes. He almost couldn’t believe his ears when you said that.
“What?”
“I said kiss me!” You loudly whispered but your eyes were frantically flickering back and forth to something behind him.
However, right before you could yell at him, you felt him snaking his right arm around your waist while the other hand reached up to cup your cheek, pulling you into a soft and gentle kiss. You fluttered your eyelids close as he turned you so that his back would be facing the open area while your smaller form gets shielded from the public eye.
You could hear your friend’s voices getting closer and closer and eventually made their way past Haknyeon’s back. You could’ve sworn you heard some of them snicker and scoff at your unknown presence.
Once they are gone, Haknyeon pulls back from you with the softest sound as he caresses your cheek for a moment.
Suddenly your heart was picking up speed against your chest. You locked eyes with him for a second or two, feeling him tilt his head slightly to make his lips brush over yours again purposely before pulling away completely.
“I reckon we should leave?” He chuckled, making you nod.
“Yes please.”
With that being said, he let you leave the hiding spot first, making sure he used his body to block you from unwanted view.
A few hours passed where he took you to a few of his favourite shops in Hogsmeade, including some personal spots around town where he usually goes when he needs space to be by himself. You were now making your way back to the castle as you both managed to not quarrel for more than a minute of being with each other.
You must admit, it was nice getting to know Haknyeon better instead of fighting with him like usual.
It has been four days since your first date with Haknyeon and again, you still received the notes. This time, it said;
“You’re cute. Can I keep you?”
With that, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.
“What? Did the person who gave you those letters finally revealed himself?” Wooyoung asked from beside you, only for you to show him the note.
“No, but isn’t it tiring to keep thinking of cheesy love notes to write almost everyday?” You whispered to him upon hearing Professor McGonagall enter the class.
“Well, I would say this person is totally head over heels for you to even write these from day 1.” Wooyoung speaks utter nonsense most of the time, but maybe he made some sense today.
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You were on your second date with Haknyeon, as he promised to take you on a ride. What ride might I ask? Not just any ride. He was taking you on a ride on a Hippogriff.
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble for this? I really don’t want to be expelled.” You warned him as he laughed at you.
“Aren’t you being a little too goody two shoes for a Slytherin?” Haknyeon teased, only to get a good slap to his arm from you.
“Say anything stupid again and I swear you’ll be the one swimming in the lake with the damn Lochness.” You threatened as he raised his arms in a surrender but there was a wide grin on his face. Something you’ve grown to adore these days.
With that, he soon hops on the magical creature easily, leaving you nervous. Haknyeon had his hand extended out for you to take but you were afraid.
“Y/N come on, we don’t have forever!” He said.
“What if I fall?” You panicked but you ended up unconsciously whining, making him giggle.
“I won’t let you fall. I promise. Now come on, darling.” Haknyeon jerks his hand to you again, only for you to stare at it for a bit before you finally take his hand into yours. He easily pulled you up and onto the animal’s back. You sat in front of him while you gently grabbed onto the creature’s neck, being careful that you don’t accidentally harm it.
“Okay Buckbeak, show us whatchu got.” Haknyeon said as he gave the creature a few pats to its belly and soon, the creature took off flying into the sky. You let out a scream, hugging the neck tightly while Haknyeon holds onto nothing.
He clearly had more experience than you in terms of flying on this creature’s back.
You had your eyes closed the entire time even when you felt the smooth glide across the air. Still being stubborn to open your eyes, you felt him tap your shoulders.
“Y/N come on! Open your eyes! You’re missing out on the view!” His voice sounded so excited behind you, it almost made you believe it wasn’t the same boy who has been a living nuisance to you all these while.
“No way! I’m just gonna panic even more if I see how high we are!” You yelled over the loud gush of wind that might be rendering your hearing.
“I promise we’ll be fine, just open your eyes! Trust me!” Haknyeon reassured you as you felt him gently slide his hands down your arms and onto your wrist to pull them away from the creature’s neck. You shook your head desperately, hoping he’d leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t.
Instead, he thought it would be a good idea to scare you. Maybe that way you’ll finally open your eyes.
And you did.
Because the minute you heard him yell for help, you immediately opened your eyes and turned around only to find him seated firmly on Buckbeak’s back with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You bloody piece of shit!” You huffed in annoyance as you turned back around only for Buckbeak to playfully tilt his body up to make you fall back slightly. That’s when a string of curses left your lips while you desperately grabbed onto its neck.
“Don’t do that Buckbeak!” You scolded the animal, only to get a little sound from him. Just then, Haknyeon decides to challenge you.
“Wanna know what it feels to fly?”
“Uhh, no?”
“It’ll be fun. Here.” Haknyeon said as he slowly reached over to grab your wrists while his firm chest softly pressed against your back but for some reason, it made you feel some sort of safety.
“W-What are you doing?” You stuttered, only for him to smile and soon spoke into your ears leaving a soft tingling feel to your skin.
“Just trust me.”
With that being said, he gently spreads your arms out on either side of you, making them act like wings for you. As Buckbeak glided through the air, you imagined you were flying until you heard him whisper into your ear, “Close your eyes.”
You did as he said, only for it to enhance the imagination. A smile naturally appears on your lips as you completely didn’t see the way he was staring at you from beside you. Ignoring the way his hands found your waist and left it there for the rest of the ride.
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It was your third and final date for the bet you made with him. For some odd reason, you didn’t want it to end but of course you couldn’t tell him that. So when you met him at the lake, you looked slightly down and he noticed. Haknyeon wouldn’t let this slide easily which is why he decided to tease you about it.
“What’s with the long face, darling? Already attached to me?”
You scoffed as you approached him by the swing only for you to take a seat at the wooden plank beside his seated figure on the grass patch.
“So what? This was just for the bet anyway.” You mumbled under your breath, not realizing that he heard you.
The next few minutes went by like how your previous dates went. Constant teasing, playful jokes and banter, friendly chats and even random fights that involve you throwing a handful of dead leaves at him while he scoops water from the lake and proceeds to toss it at you.
At the end of this short date, you had just arrived at the end of the wooden bridge when he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from walking any further.
“I just remembered I promised my friends I’d meet them at the Three Broomsticks Inn in like 5 minutes so I have to leave you from here on.” He said.
“Right…” You said, your voice sounded a little sad.
“I guess the bet’s over. Thanks… for... well, going on the dates with me.” Haknyeon said, eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and the wooden panels behind you.
“A bet’s a bet right? I’d be a wimp if I didn’t do it.” You smiled.
There was a beat of awkward silence as you got ready to leave when he said something that made your stomach flip.
“That’s it? No goodbye kiss? I thought this was a date?” Haknyeon pouted, keeping his gaze on you as stable as possible. You almost couldn’t believe your ears.
Did he just ask you for a kiss?
“I… Umm… Okay?” You stuttered in confusion, earning a soft little giggle from him.
However, the nerves soon disappear the minute he takes a step closer and soon wraps one hand around your waist while the other cups your face before he leans down to let his lips seal yours. You instantly fluttered your eyes shut, letting your hands rest on his chest.
The kiss felt so genuine, you almost forgot how you used to fight with this same boy 24/7. Haknyeon smiled against your lips as he pulled back for air shortly before kissing you again.
His lips were intoxicating, you almost forgot how to breathe. Haknyeon gives you a cheeky little lick to your bottom lip as he soon pulls away from you, leaving you breathless. You pressed your forehead softly against his as you kept your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at him at this point.
His chuckle fills your ears as he cups your face with both hands and whispers against your lips.
“Go. Be safe. Avoid the common grounds, that’s where Filch always lurks around.” Soon after, he gave your lips another peck before you felt wind whooshing around you. Immediately, his touch left you and it almost made you crumble to the ground.
What did he do to you?
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A few days later, you were just having lunch with everyone else at their respective house tables and your friends surrounded you when you saw a note slipping past from under your plate. A pretty baby blue one that is. You carefully unfolded it, only to see it read;
“I realized I was thinking of you, and I began to wonder how long you’ve been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: Since the day I met you, you’ve never left.”
For some reason, those words meant something to you.
It was as though you knew this person and have created some sort of a bond with them. And yet, you still don’t know who. However, you do now have a little suspicion on who it was and who these notes belonged to. So to test your theory, you looked up from your table, almost immediately catching the eyes of the same pair of brown ones you’ve grown accustomed to.
Haknyeon was already staring like he knew you were going to find him. What surprised you the most is the fact that he didn’t even flinch when you caught him.
You held eye contact for a second before you got cut off by Wooyoung putting a scoopful of mashed potatoes onto your plate. You gave the boy a little smack to his head, earning a choke from him. When you looked back over to Haknyeon, he was already talking to his friend with the back of his head facing you.
A few hours later, you were having your Potions class when a note popped out of nowhere from under your book. To avoid getting minus points from Snape, you quickly shoved the note into your cloak pocket and yet you still got called by the Head of Slytherin for not paying attention.
Therefore, having to serve detention.
You could only curse him in your head while you cleaned every single flask and cauldron pots till they were spick and span.
Once you were done, you left the room only to find Haknyeon leaning against the wall with one leg bent to rest his foot on the wall. He was busy playing with his Patronus charm when his eyes flicked up upon hearing the door open.
“Haknyeon? What are you doing here? Don’t we have Transfiguration right now?” You loudly whispered as you approached him only to drag him towards the end where you were hidden from Snape’s office door. Once you were hiding behind the pillar, you turned to peek past the wall with Haknyeon right in front of you.
The hallway was empty thanks to the classes going on currently but that doesn’t mean you were free from not being caught out of class.
“I told Professor McGonagall I’m having stomach aches so she excused me to go to the hospital wing.” Haknyeon explained, only for you to frown.
“And why were you waiting outside Snape’s office, might I ask?”
“To see you.”
“You couldn’t wait till I come to class?” You asked with a slight tease in your voice.
“Needed to see you right after detention, so that I could do this.”
With that being said, he easily captures you into a kiss. You sighed through your nose as you cupped his neck to pull him closer to you. Haknyeon wraps his arms around your waist, letting himself trap you against the wall and his body. You changed your head positions to be at a slightly more comfortable state, feeling him squeeze your sides.
Just then, he pulled away for a breath, making it easy for you to slip in the question.
“All those notes were from you, weren’t they?”
Haknyeon grew quiet for a moment but then decided to just come clean with you. After all, that’s what he has been wanting to do anyway.
“Are you disappointed?”
“I would be if you told me this 4 weeks ago… But now? Not so much.” You smiled.
“Really?” He asked.
“Would I do this if I was disappointed?” You asked only to kiss him again. Haknyeon smirks against your lips as you feel him lift you up and spin you around. When he placed you back down, he gave you a peck on the lips and soon spoke up.
“Should I stop giving you notes then?”
“Go ahead. Cause I’ve already won the prize.”
“You sure have.”
~~~
153 notes · View notes
bakusdumptruck · 3 years
Text
Bakusquad Crack Post
Sup bitches 🤩how’s your day been? hope its been good! Anywayyy i was listening to a “Rolling joints with Sero Hanta” playlist and this popped up in my mind sooo here’s a little Bakusquad scenario 😏
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Pairing: aged up Bakusquad x GN Y/n
Warnings: Use of marijuana, swearing, injuries
Summary: A smoke session with the babes turned into a chaotic mess 
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Ights sluts lets get into it 😈
Sero Hanta is the stoner of the group. Period. 
He taught everyone how to roll up just incase he was too high to function and wanted to smoke more
One night he texted the gc asking if everyone wanted to have a smoke sesh before they had to study for exams 
You all agreed and went over to his dorm together
All except Bakugou.
He called all of you “idiots” and “dumbasses” for getting faded before studying, but all Sero had to say for him to come was
“Ight bakubro, if you can’t handle it you could’ve said that instead of making excuses 🤷🏻‍♂️”
Bakugou showed up within 5 minutes.
Once everyone was together, tape boy had everything set up
There were 4 joints lined up, hella snacks, drinks, video games, and movies
He even had the LED a n d Galaxy lights on
Lordy it was gonna be a long ass night
NOW ON TO THE FIRST ROTATION 🤩
You know how I said Sero is the stoner? yup uhuh he got the MF GAS.
The rotation was Bakugou, Kiri, You, Mina, Denki, then Sero
You all have a high tolerance so after you saw Bakugou coughing up a fucking lung, yall knew you were in trouble
Everyone coughed... except Sero. He just busted a lung laughing💀
So the joint is finished and you’re all feeling fuzzy
yes you’re high, BUT its not enough to get you guys staring at the wall thinking about space and aliens
Just high enough where time is slowed down and your body feels light
Denki randomly shouted to play video games and everyone agreed
Guess what you’re playing 👀
Ju-on. The fucking grudge game. 
Why did Denki choose this game? oh he just wanted to see if it’d be a scarier experience if you’re all faded
It was 😃
Kiri volunteered to play the first stage to show off his Manliness 😤
So there he goes walking into the abandoned building 
yall know how you can use another wii remote to trigger jumpscares? 
yeahhhh Kiri didn’t know about it... and Bakugou was in charge of that
Everyone was chillin, lowkey feeling at edge to prepare themselves for anything about to pop up
Here comes the scene where he opens the door and scary bitch is on the other side waiting to grab him 
K: “Uhhhh this doesn’t feel right... am I supposed to go this way?
B: “No shit dumbass, its telling you go that way isn’t it? What are you scared or something 😏 I thought you were too manly for this game”
K: “I-I’m not scared... just making s-sure.”
M: “Hehe you’re stuttering kiri”
K: “...I’m just cold”
Right before he grabbed the door handle (I kinda forgot how the game went oops 😅) bakubitch tiggered a jumpscare
K: “Okay here I g- what the fuck 😃”
It didn’t work.
K: “Oh that wasn’t too bad! The games gonna have to try harder if it wants to scare m- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”
Scary bitch popped up outta no where and grabbed him
S: “DUDE FUCKING RUN AWAY”
Y/N: “KIRI THE BITCH IS RIGHT THERE WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING”
K: “FUCK- CAN’T YOU SEE IM TRYING”
B: “BITCH SHAKE THE CONTROLLER. YOU HAVE TO SHAKE THE CONTROLLER”
K: “AHSJHS WHY ISN’T SHE LETTING GO”
D: “I-IT”S TELLING YOU HOW TO SHAKE IT. GO LEFT, NO NOW RI-”
Kiri accidentally punched Denki in the face 🙃
All: “...whAT THE FUCK AHAHAHSHAH”
yeahhh so thats how the game ended 😭
Denki was laying on the floor staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell just happened and why everyone was laughing at him
D: *in his head* “I just got punched square in the face 😃 and they’re laughing at me 😃 This is fine. 😃”
K: “B-bro are you okay 😭 iM sorry AHAsh its- its just everyone was screaming and AhahhAHAHA IM SORRY 😭”
Sero let him start the second rotation as an apology for laughing instead of checking up on him 
Honestly yall don’t know if you can go on to the third
Everyone was hella faded at this point
Eyes red, dry mouths, and hungry stomachs
Mina ordered TacoBell knowing everyone was gonna want to eat more than the snacks and you all sat on the floor munching away
You all started talking about stupid stuff:
S: “So like... what happens when we get scared half to death twice”
M: “👁👄👁”
B: “👁👄👁”
D: “👁👄👁”
Y: “👁👄👁”
K: “👁👄👁”
D: “I’ve been scared half to death multiple times... im fucking immortal.”
After a few more high conversations Mina suggests to make tiktoks 
Have yall seen the tiktok where Mina and Y/n do the trend where they wink at the camera and all the boys are watching and Baku comes up to kiss Y/n? 
yup you do that BUT
When Bakugou grabbed your cheeks and went in for the kiss he missed and fell flat on his face 💀
*Cue everyone falling on their asses crying*
Best believe the tiktok went viral 🤩
After the third joint yall decided that the room was too suffocating and went out for a walk 
It didn’t seem like a bad idea... until you all got outside
Denki and Sero were singing “Milkshake” at the top of their lungs while wall twerking on the trees
Kiri and Bakugo were racing to see who’s the fastest but kept tripping over their own feet
You and Mina were recording everything those dumbasses were doing.
All of a sudden yall found yourselves in a clear area a bit far from the dorms
Bakugou laid in the grass staring up at the stars and you all joined getting into a little cuddle pile
At this point the effects of the joints hit at once and everyone was out of their heads
They felt like their spirits were floating out of their bodies
*BOOM*
M: “...did you guys hear that”
All: “yes”
M: “should we go check it out?”
B: “Hell yeah. What if it’s a villain? I bet I can beat their ass in less than a second”
Y: “First, thats literally impossible. Second, We can barely fucking move. How do you expect us to fight a villain 🙂”
A Nomu popped up in front of you
D: “Uhhh aye Bakubro... you think you can beat his ass in less than a second?”
B: “FUCK YEAH WATCH THIS YOU FUCKING EXTRAS.”
...
HE FUCKING MISSED Nomu: “ERRHSJAKFjhuSGHD”
Y/n: *shoots up on their feet then falls over immediately* “DAMNIT I CAN’T STAND UP STRAIGHT WHAT DO WE DO”
Everyone started to use their quirks
Sero shot tape to the nomu
Denki sent 1 millions volts
Mina just kept shooting acid out
Kiri hardened up and threw punches like his life depend on it
Bakugou was screaming “die” and kept exploding shit
and You were also using your quirk to the best of your ability
K: *heavy breathing* “guys... i think we got it”
B: “Ofc we did... we literally went bat shit crazy on it”
When the smoke cleared it was still standing in front of you guys... unharmed...
AND IT MULTIPLIED
K: “😶RUN AWAY”
you all started running back to the dorms
well, tried running back to the dorms
Everyone was bumping into each other and tripping
S: “WE’RE GONNA DIE”
Y/n: “WE’RE NOT GONNA DIE JUST KEEP RUNNING... FUCK THEY’RE GETTING CLOSER
Denki ended up facetiming Aizawa in hopes that he would help
A: “Denki, its 4am what do you w-”
D: “SENSEIIII NOMUS ARE CHASING US. SEND HELP.
A: “Why are you guys out of the dorms? aND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME USE YOUR QUIRKS. YOU HAVE YOUR HEROS LICENSE FOR A REASoN”
D: “WE TRIED. WE MISSED AND IT MULTIPLIED. WE’RE ALSO HIGH AS FUCK BUT WE’RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT”
A: “... did you say you were high?”
D: “IRRELEVANT. SENSEI WE’RE GONNA DI-”
The nomu caught him.
A: “Denki... Kaminari... hello?... *sigh* you guys are gonna be the death of me.”
You all ended up getting knocked out by the nomus and taken to the League of Villains hideout 
B: “...Never thought i’d be here again”
S: “ I still have the last joint in my pocket... ya’ll wanna smoke?”
Dabi and Shiggy stared at him like he was crazy but agreed anyway 🤪who’s gonna pass up a free joint? not them. 
So everyone got high again and chilled until the Pro Hero’s saved your asses :)
Oh and also don’t think Aizawa let you guys off the hook. 
You all got house arrest and extra BRUTAL lessons for the next 2 months 
The End :)
Yeahhh idk what this was but I hope you all enjoyed it!! I really wanted to write something angsty but as I was writing I couldn’t take myself seriously and ended up making jokes 😭
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hawkwhore · 3 years
Text
Rebound - Hawk X Female!Reader
taking place some time after his breakup with moon, (probably end of S3 era after his redemption) he starts to develop feelings for y/n, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for another relationship after what happened with moon. this results in constant disguised flirting to avoid commitment, leaving y/n confused on if he likes her, or is just joking around.
p.s. thank you guys so much for 100 followers!! :) i decided that im gonna make a hawk imagine as a thank you since i’ve been thinking about doing it for awhile. im so scared to post this bye.
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words; 2,444
includes; light swearing, angst, fluff
It had gotten to a point, that it was almost bothersome. Bothersome, the way he would talk to you, and pretend like it was nothing.
“Hey gorgeous,” he greeted you as you sat down at Hawk’s lunch table. Your friends smirked and you rolled your eyes, trying to repress a smile. He did this all too often, making comments that shouldn’t be made unless it meant something more.
“Hi.” You sat down awkwardly, never knowing how to respond to his uncomfortable remarks. Not that you exactly minded them, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a bit of a thing for Hawk. But what you didn’t like, however, was not being able to tell if his comments were serious, or just another way to amuse himself over your reactions.
“So, we were just talking about the next All Valley. You’re coming to watch, right?” Hawk asked you as he bit into his food. You were never really into actually taking these karate classes, but you were a supportive friend to the group and always came to watch them fight. “Yeah, of course.”
“I still think you should join the dojo and fight with us, Y/N.” Miguel said hopefully and you smiled at him, preparing to reject the idea again. “Yeah, plus, you’d look pretty hot in the uniform, right guys?” Hawk joked, looking to the table for agreement. You let out a sigh of disappointment at the comment, laughing it off as the rest of the group agreed.
“Yeah, not happening.” You said while grinning, shutting the idea down for the millionth time. Hawk frowned. “You’re lame.” He stuck out a finger from behind the sandwich he was holding to point a finger at you. “Oh well. Looks like you guys will have to find another way to spend more time with me.” You joked, and gave a shrug of your shoulders to your friends.
You had thought, this would have been a good opening for Hawk to say something like ‘You’re right, do you wanna go out with me this weekend?’ but of course, he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything, really. The conversation just went on.
It made no sense to you why he acted the way he did, but never made a move. It was truly infuriating at times. Eventually the bell rang, and you all parted for the second half of your classes. You wouldn’t see Hawk again until your last period, which was both upsetting and a relief for you at the same time. He’s just so unpredictable.
There had even been times you’d called him out on his behavior, like when you all went out to Golf N’ Stuff and he practically acted like you two were a couple the whole night. He was complimenting you, putting his arm around you, and it prompted you to quite literally say, ‘If you actually like me that much why haven’t you asked me out?’ In a taunting tone towards him, wanting to see what he’d do.
For the first time in a long time, he’d seemed intimidated. He retracted his arm from you even, and after a moment’s silence regained his usual composure to spout a “You wish,” and laugh it off. It hurt your feelings a little, honestly. Was he just using you for the comfort without the obligation? Could it have easily been anyone else besides you? You were determined to find out, but you’ve just been stuck playing the long game.
It was later that day when you reached your final class that more unsurprising events from Hawk occurred. You had been sitting in the general center area of the classroom when Hawk walked in, and he shot a wink your way as he took his usual seat behind you.
“Hey,” he greeted. You turned around to face him, noticing once again how cute he looked in his red hoodie that you wish was yours, and replied nonchalantly. “Hey, how was bio?” You asked him. The teacher wasn’t here yet, so you were thankfully able to converse without being yelled at.
“It was wild,” he started, and his eyes lit up while his mouth curled into a devious smile. “We actually dissected some shit today. Just completely ripped the frog’s guts apart.” He spoke, feeling accomplished. “Totally badass.”
You mimicked the way a person would vomit, exclaiming how disgusting that story was. “And that is exactly why I am not taking biology.” You said while giggling.
He rolled his eyes playfully, but watched you intently as you laughed. He didn’t say anything at first, just smiled softly. “I love your laugh, it’s so cute.” There it is. Except this time it seemed a little more sincere than a harmless flirtation. Too bad that you know that’s all it really is, though.
You furrowed your eyebrows at him in a confused look at his compliment like you always do, and turned back to the front of the class when you realized the teacher had just arrived.
It can’t be that he’s scared to ask you out in some sort of fear of rejection, because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel many times before. When it first started, you tried to reciprocate the things he did and said. But every time you tried, he brushed you off and made you feel like he didn’t want that. So, what, he could flirt with you, but you couldn’t flirt with him? How is that fair?
You considered these thoughts throughout class, and it was starting to frustrate you. Seriously, how is that fair?
You had become so focused on these thoughts, in fact, that you didn’t notice when the teacher had called on you. “Y/N,” Hawk shook your arm from behind you trying to get your attention back onto the class, and you whipped your head up. “Yeah, sorry.”
When class was over and you headed out of the room, Hawk was close to follow behind and pull you to the side before you got too far. “Hey are we still on for tonight?” He asked confidently, referring to your plan to watch the new WandaVision episode together at his house after school. You would’ve been nervous about this, but luckily Demetri was coming, so it shouldn’t be too awful.
“Yeah, duh,” you said while walking towards the exit with him. When you reached his car, you looked around. “Where’s Demetri?” You questioned, as Hawk started getting in the drivers’ seat. “He didn’t tell you he wasn’t coming?” He said boredly. Suddenly you felt tense, but you masked that with a look of annoyance. Figures.
“Ugh, what? No? He’s annoying. Why not?” You complained as you got in the car, no longer waiting for Demetri to show up. “Family dinner, I think?” He responded, while you buckled in your seatbelt and checked your makeup in the little mirror.
“Okay, well, his loss I guess.” You tried to hide your anxiousness about the fact you two were now going to be alone together at his house, with continued annoyance about Demetri’s cancellation.
“Yeah definitely, what loser would pass up an entire hour of sitting next to you?” He commented smugly, trying to lighten the mood. “Half-hour.” You corrected, turning your head away and ignoring the flirtatious intention of the comment.
You shook off the unexpected change of plan and suggested some music, to which Hawk agreed. You both terribly sang along to a few songs while chatting about WandaVision theories until you got to his house, and went inside.
“So what was that in class today?” As you two were walking upstairs to his room, he asked you this almost through a bit of laughter. “What do you mean?” You looked for clarification, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he did. “You never lose focus in class.” He confirmed.
“Yeah I don’t know! Just zoned out I guess.” You tried to explain without giving him the details on the thoughts that caused your zoning out, thankful for not having to be in direct eye contact with him as you answered while walking inside his room.
Unfortunately, this answer was not good enough for Hawk. “Bullshit! What were you thinking about?” He encouraged lightheartedly, assuming this topic of conversation wouldn’t be anything deep. How wrong he was.
You sat down on his bed and he did the same, and you tried to think of what to say next. At your silence he continued, “You were probably thinking about how hot I am, huh?” You lightly smacked his arm and let out a breath of defeat.
“I don’t wanna kill the vibe by talking about this. I just wanna see Evan Peters in the next episode.” You tried changing the topic by making a joke, but he didn’t budge.
“Dude, what is it? Seriously you can talk to me.” He looked at you sincerely and moved a little closer, detecting this might be more serious than he thought. As annoyed as you were that he wouldn’t give this up, your heart melted a bit at this action.
Then, that heart started beating incredibly fast when you realized what you were now going to have to admit to him. It’s fine, you told yourself, you’ve been wanting to get this off your chest for ages, so just do it.
“Do you like me?” You blurted out.
That is not how you intended to start this conversation at all.
The smirk that was always planted on Hawk’s face immediately fell, and he suddenly looked nervous. “What?” He asked, trying to avoid answering.
Lucky for him, you had more to say.
“All you do, every time I see you, is make flirtatious comments towards me, and it’s weird. It wouldn’t be weird if you actually meant them, but you had plenty of chances to act on it and you haven’t, so at this point I’m wondering if you’re just using me as some sort of fun rebound to mess with and you don’t even like me at all, especially since whenever I tried to flirt back you brushed it off and acted like I was an idiot for doing that, so if you don’t actually like me I’d appreciate if you stopped doing what you’re doing because it’s confusing and I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”
You hesitated for a moment after your very passionate speech, and finished with, “That.. is what I was thinking about during class.”
You looked up at him anxiously and saw an expression of hurt and guilt on his face, and he gulped harshly at the realization that it was his turn to talk.
“You’re not a rebound.” He spoke softly, avoiding eye contact, almost reverting back to his Eli persona. You felt a glimpse of hope at this, but waited for him to continue, fidgeting with the ends of your shirt’s sleeves in impatience.
“And I’m sorry I made you feel like that was even a possibility.” He said louder, slowly regaining his confidence in his words. “I’ve been nervous, after Moon, about getting into another relationship.” He admitted to you, finally looking into your eyes.
Now that he wasn’t as nervous anymore to explain himself, suddenly you were. Where was this going?
“I didn’t want to commit to anything, I was..” He took a breath, as if ashamed to say it, “Scared.” He looked down, avoiding your gaze again, but continued. “I just didn’t want to screw up the same way I did before, and grow a relationship like that just for it to end so soon.”
“So you thought you’d just flirt with whoever was around to compensate your need for love?” You interrupted harshly. You felt a little bad, but you were still angry, and insecure.. and it still sounded like a rebound.
But all your thoughts of self-doubt went out the window when he took your hands in his. “No!” Hawk said, almost shouting in disbelief at you. “I like you a lot, Y/N. I just didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t want to make things serious and get hurt again, or even worse I do something stupid and hurt you. But I guess my attempt at ‘liking you from a distance’—“ He put emphasis on those words, as though making fun of his own phrasing. “—ended up being stupid and hurt you anyways. And I’m really sorry for that.”
Hawk poured his heart out to you, and you were in shock. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so vulnerable before. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you did something you thought you’d never do.
You kissed him.
His short look of confusion as you leaned in quickly faded when he realized, and he happily accepted the kiss. He moved his hand to hold your face, his other one on your waist, and you lightly rested your hands on his chest. A sense of relief washed over you, finally understanding what was going through his head all this time. Before the kiss could deepen, you parted from him to say something.
“I understand,” You moved your arms up a little, wrapping them around his neck while talking, and he held your waist loosely. “But I hope you know that we don’t have to be like you and Moon. You’ve changed so much since then. And I believe in us. I want to be with you.”
You stared into his eyes intensely, hoping he would say exactly what you’ve been wanting him to say to you for months.
His puppy dog expression broke into a huge smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, I want to be with you too.” He leaned in again, much more confidently this time, and kissed you deeply.
He kept his hold on your waist tight, and your lips continued to move together as your hands grasped onto the back of his neck. He leaned forwards slightly and moved his hand to hold your jaw, but accidentally broke the kiss from a smile he couldn’t manage to suppress.
You giggled at this, giving him another quick peck on the lips before turning yourself towards the TV. “So, WandaVision?” You reminded him, laughing to yourself a bit at how things escalated.
“Oh, right,” Hawk hesitated, looking at you for another second. “Fine.” He gave up the idea of kissing you more, and searched for the remote.
“I guess we should be glad Demetri didn’t come after all.” Hawk smiled slyly as he picked up the remote, and cuddled up next to you on the bed.
You laughed, and curled up close to him as he turned on the show. “Yeah, definitely.”
———————————————————————
ok hi i hope this wasn’t terrible i’ve basically never written a fanfic before but if y’all liked it you can send me requests??
also random thought i got uncomfy just writing them kissing even though i read intensely nsfw fanfics on the daily so idk why that happened but anyways. LMFAOOO
bye thank u for 100 followers excuse me while i hibernate because this post is embarrassing
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itsthesinbin · 3 years
Text
Early Game Tip/Guide for Stardew Valley
A friend of mine has been having trouble with the EARLY early game, so I wanted to help them out. This’ll cover the very early game, and then I’ll cover some tips for the FULL first year. I’ll be putting the whole thing under a read more so it isn’t cluttering ppl’s dashboards.
I’ll have a general idea of what to do the first 3 days or so, and then move to general tips/year 1 tips!
If this gets good reception, I might do other guides if people need them! Just ask and ye might receive sfdgfhfsdgfs.
I’ll also update this if I remember something else or get an idea from someone!
Day 1
First thing, of course, is get your parsnips planted and watered. Go to Pierre’s afterwards. With your 500g, buy 3 green beans, 3 potatoes, and 2 cauliflower. While cauliflower, overall, sells for more, invest in POTATOES in your first spring. You’ll sometimes get an extra potato when you harvest them, so you can get more money overall.
Make sure to get 50 wood for a chest as well. Put your extra tools away that you aren’t using for extra storage space.
After those are planted, go to the south (Cindersap Forest, where Marnie’s Ranch and Leah’s cabin are located). Go ALL the way south to the sewer exit at the bottom right of the area, over two small bridges connected by a tiny island with a single maple tree on it. The area down south will sometimes spawn spring onions. Check this area every day in spring in your first year. Spring onions don’t give you MUCH energy, but it’ll still be good in the long run.
Chop down as many trees as you can or pick up any foragables you see (check the beach as well for foragable shells) to try and reach level 1 foraging. Once you reach level 1, you can get tree seeds- acorns, pinecones, and maple seeds- and can craft field snacks.
Do NOT chop down the tree stumps right now unless they’re in the way! Tree stumps still spawn tree seeds, and chopping down stumps do NOT give you foraging experience! Only chopping the tops of the trees give you experience!
Check ALL the trash cans (just make sure a villager doesn’t see you bc they hate it), because sometimes food items or algae/seaweed pop out. 
Don’t be afraid to eat foragables like dandelions, leeks, and horseradishes as well for energy.
Overall, if you can’t get enough energy-restoring items, don’t be afraid to go to bed early day 1.
Day 2
If you didn’t do it yesterday due to energy, go around your farm and scythe ALL the weeds/fiber you can. Sometimes they drop mixed seeds. Mixed seeds are random seeds you can plant. They’ll either give you parsnips, potatoes, or cauliflower seeds. But that means free seeds to plant! Easy profit. DO NOT CUT DOWN ALL YOUR TALL GRASS.
Willy will send you a letter. Go get the fishing rod, and fish in the ocean outside of Willy’s shop. Sell him any fish you get directly until about 2 pm or so, then go to Pierre’s with your new funds and get more seeds. Ideally potatoes, but if you wanna get a head start on an achievement, buy one or two of every seed- except fruit trees. You’ll need to sell one of every crop eventually. But you don’t have to worry about it right now if you don’t want to- you’ll have many more springs to come.
Check down south for spring onions. If you have level 1 foraging by now and can get tree seeds, shake the trees as you pass by. You get them more often by chopping them down, but shaking the trees can yield tree seeds for field snacks.
Spend today fishing, after that! Fish makes good money, and if you’re REALLY in a pinch you can eat the fish straight out of the ocean/river/lake. Or any seaweed/algae you fish up. Sometimes you’ll also fish up Joja Cola- a trash item you can consume for a little energy.
Day 3
It’s raining today, so you do NOT have to water! It always rains on Spring 3. If you’ve gotten money from fishing again after your initial stint, buy more seeds- you don’t need to plant them right away if the idea of all the watering is daunting, you can save them for when your first harvest is done and you need to replant.
If it’s a good luck day, spend the day clearing out your farm area around where you’re planting. Good luck days are the best for chopping trees because you’ll get more wood than on bad luck days.
If it’s a neutral or bad luck day, go fishing! You might fish up trash more often, but you’ll still be getting fish to sell! You can either ocean fish and sell to Willy directly, OR try at the mountain lake next to Robin’s house. Largemouth Bass are GOOD money early game.
No matter what you do, remember to check for spring onions!
General Early Game Tips
Check the tv EVERY day! It’ll give you tips, recipes, and you can check your daily luck and the next day’s forecast.
Build a Silo BEFORE building a coop or a barn! You’ll get a quest to build a coop after your first harvest. Do NOT do it right away. Get a SILO first, and then scythe up any grass on your farm! Don’t scythe all your grass (the tall grass, not the weeds that give you fiber/seeds) before you get a silo, because hay from Marnie is expensive at 50g per piece of hay.
Advanced tip for the previous one: Build ONE silo, and put a chest next to the silo. Use the empty barn/coop once you have it to grab ALL the hay from your silo and place it in the chest. Continue to scythe your grass and get hay, repeating the emptying process until all your grass is gone. That way you have a stock of hay before you get animals.
Once you have a steady supply of food and the mines are open, go to the mines as OFTEN as possible. If the day is neutral, good, or great luck, go mining! You’ll wanna get a head start on resources, and selling gems is good early game.
Wait for a rainy day to upgrade your watering can! Upgrading your tools takes two days: the day you give it to him, and the day after. Check the tv for when the next day is raining, and THEN upgrade your can.
Do NOT build the first sprinklers you get. Once you reach level 2 farming, you unlock the sprinkler crafting recipe. The basic sprinkler only waters 4 spaces, and it is a WASTE of copper and iron. Wait for the quality sprinkler recipe at level 6. It’s tedious to water, I know, but the quality sprinkler waters the 8 surrounding tiles vs the basic’s 4. A better use of materials.
Keep at least 1 to 5 of everything! You may end up with a lot of chests, but keeping a lot of things is REALLY handy. You’ll get little fetch quests from the bulletin board outside of Pierre’s shop often, and keeping a backlog of items helps with completing them- which gets you money and friendship points with the villager in question. This includes crops, fish, and mining materials like quartz and gems. I’d also advise keeping minerals from geodes after donating one of them to Gunther, as some are good gifts while others are used for fish pond requests.
Don’t forget animal tools! Marnie sells a bucket for milking cows, shears for shearing sheep, and heaters for your barns/coops! It gets real cold in winter, so animals need a heater placed in their respective buildings. Put one in every animal building you have- you only need one, don’t worry!
Make wild seeds! Wild seeds produce foragables for their respective seasons. Sell the spring, summer, and fall seed packets instead of growing them. The spring, summer, and fall wild seed packets sell for MORE than if you grew the seeds and sold the foragable items. Do NOT sell the winter seed packets!
General Year 1 Tips
Try and get level 4 foraging before Spring 15! You’ll get a passive perk that just says “+1 Berry harvesting”. From Spring 15 to 18, there are salmonberries in the bushes around Pelican Town. Whether you have level 4 foraging or not, collect these berries! It’ll help a LOT if you get two per bush, but if you check every single day you’ll get a lot of berries no matter what your foraging level is. They don’t give a LOT of energy/health, but because of the quantity you’ll get you’ll be fine.
Fish at the mountain lake when you have downtime! Largemouth bass are VERY valuable early game, if a bit tricky to catch.
Use low profit crops for energy! If you have extra parsnips from spring, you can either turn them into pickles later or keep them for energy/health.
Mushrooms or Bats! After a certain amount of profit is obtained, Demetrius will come to you and ask to use your farm’s little cave for an experiment. He’ll ask to either use it to cultivate mushrooms or invite a species of fruit bat to the cave. Mushrooms are produced every day, and you’ll get a random assortment of every mushroom species available (although their rarity plays a factor in how often they appear). Fruit bats leave you a slow supply of fruit- usually foraged berries, but sometimes fruit tree fruit as well such as apples, oranges, and cherries. Mushrooms are generally more valuable and common mushrooms provide good energy, while fruit bats are good for artisan goods and for gifts as fruit tree fruits are universally liked by everyone.
In your first summer, invest in Blueberries! In your first fall, invest in Cranberries! Both blueberries and cranberries give multiple harvests, and multiple berries per harvest. That means they’ll keep producing AND give you 3 berries per harvest. While the melon and pumpkin sell for more, you can get a few hundred berries within one season- upwards of a thousand if you plant a Lot like I do.
In the beginning of summer, you’ll unlock the bath house. The bath house is a hot spring building to the north in the mountains, initially blocked by boulders. You can sit in the water to regain energy!
Plant tree seeds outside of the bath house area. ALL the dirt around the bath house can have tree seeds planted. You’ll most likely get a bunch of pinecones, as there’s an abundance of pine trees both on your farm and in Cindersap Forest. Plant as many as you can, and let them grow to make a wood farm. I can get a full stack of wood because of how many trees you can plant.
Save some crops to sell at the END of a season! If you’re hurting for money, split your current harvest in half if you can and sell half. Put the other half away in a chest (preferably next to the shipping bin) to save for the final day in the season. That way you can be SURE you’ll have a decent amount to spend at the beginning of the next season.
Work on preserves jars and kegs asap, once you unlock their recipes. Preserves jars make jelly (from fruit), pickles (from veggies), aged roe (from fish eggs), and caviar (from sturgeon eggs). Kegs make wine (from fruit), beer (wheat), pale ale (hops), juice (veggies), and mead (honey). Buy some hops in summer and save them for when you get kegs! Hops also produce EVERY day, so be prepared for a backlog of hops!
Try and get animals in summer! Save spring for bolstering your wallet and equipment. Don’t worry about upgrading your coop/barn all the way right now, just get started on animals because animal products are very good your first year.
Upgrade things in winter! This can mean tools, or buildings! By winter you should have a GOOD bit of money and resources. Upgrade your tools as much as you can (you can do a lot of mining for ore in winter), and upgrade any coops/barns you have. You don’t HAVE to upgrade your house yet if you don’t want to/don’t plan on getting married anytime soon so, as you should have salmonberries still if you managed to collect a lot,  cooking isn’t a necessity. Mushrooms from the cave or fruit from the bats could also help here.
Buy animals in winter! If you can upgrade your coop/barn, get animals now while they don’t need to go outside. It’s a good idea to get pigs now if you can, as they take a long time to grow. That way they can come out fully grown and ready to get you truffles.
Winter seeds are good money! Every few levels, you’ll be able to craft wild seeds for each respective season. The winter seeds sell for more than just their packets alone, so grow them if you can! You can multiply the crop each time you harvest them most likely, so you can make a lot of money off of the foragables.
Mine and fish! Since you don’t have too much to do in winter, use the time to fish and mine for extra money and resources!
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smartycvnt · 3 years
Text
Sleeping With the Enemy - Chapter 1
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Warnings: kicking things off with a bit of smut, gotta set the tone somehow i guess
You had spent your entire life in the state of Georgia. The majority of that time had been spent in a small town, Logansville. It was the kind of place where everybody had known everybody and you’d always sort of hated it. There hadn’t been much of an opportunity for you to really explore who you were and what you wanted to be back home. So, when you’d gotten the chance to go to Atlanta for college, you had stayed there. 
In the city, you hadn’t known anybody. Eventually, you stumbled on a familiar face in the form of one of your brother’s friends, Amanda Rollins. She’d come up to try and be a “big city cop” and the two of you grew pretty close in Atlanta. That being said, it was only a matter of time before you followed her up to New York. It definitely took a couple of years for you to get your bearings together before, but eventually you managed to get a job with the same unit at the DA’s office. 
“You look so good,” Amanda told you as she hugged you tightly. Even after Amanda had left Atlanta, you’d kept going into the gym without her. A part of you had held out that she’d come back down for a visit, but she never did. 
“Couldn’t have you showing up for a surprise visit and kicking my ass, now could I?” Amanda let go of you and the two of you started walking down the street. “Where are you taking me?” 
“A bar.” It looked like a sports bar and you frowned. You knew that Amanda had issues with gambling, it had really been her only vice when the two of you had been staying with each other. “Don’t look at me like that. You wanna go to one of those fancy lawyer bars?” 
“Well, I am about to be a fancy lawyer Mandy,” you pointed out. Amanda rolled her eyes at you and hailed a cab to take the two of you to a nicer part of the city. 
“I am not dressed for this kind of place,” Amanda grumbled. You, on the other hand, definitely were. You’d been pretty high up at the Atlanta DA office and you’d started to venture into private practices before you’d put in for a transfer. There, you had to dress to impress everyday, especially with some of the bigger shot boys who liked using your rural upbringing against you. 
“Like you’d let something so trivial get in the way of you livin’ your best life,” you reminded her. Just as you opened your mouth to say something else, her phone started ringing. 
“Sorry. Raincheck?” Amanda asked as she answered the call. You nodded and ended up at the bar anyways while Amanda went to meet her partner at a crime scene. There was a pretty good chance that you’d end up taking this case, which excited you. The potential for getting to start your job so quickly after moving was great, you hated sitting around and doing nothing. “Hey, call me when you get home.” 
“You too,” you told Amanda as you got out of the cab. With a deep breath, you stepped into the bar. Inside, it reminded you of the places your old boss used to hang around. There was a designated smoking section upstairs, but the smell of cigars was heavy in the common area. Remembering that confidence was key and that any number of these patrons could be potential court rivals, you swaggered up to the bar and sat down. 
“What can I get you miss?” the bartender asked you. 
“Bourbon on the rocks please, mid shelf,” you told him. He nodded and grabbed a bottle from the fourth shelf and a glass. You passed him a $50 and he told you that you were good for about 5 drinks with it. So, you sat at the bar with your glass of bourbon, watching as other people walked around and spoke with each other. 
“Let me guess, low level corporate law?” Rita asked you. Technically, she’d been correct, back in Atlanta, your private practice stuff had pertained mostly to mid-level corporations. You didn’t handle anything like Amazon, but your clients were big enough for your move up to New York to go without a financial hitch. 
“You’re pretty good, but that was back home. I’m in a new place now, doing new things.” You tipped your glass back and finished the rest of your drink. "You're a big shot, ain'tcha?"
"Looking to climb some ladders?" Your cheeks heated up at the assumption. It wasn't exactly an accurate one, but it'd make you feel a little guilty for wanting to go home with her. She took notice of your change in demeanor and waved the bartender over. "Can we get a couple more drinks? Oh, and keep hers on my tab."
"I take it that you aren't gonna give me any boosts," you teased a little.
"Something tells me that my word wouldn't mean much to your bosses. I'm Rita." She held a hand out for you to shake.
"Y/n," you introduced yourself as you took her hand. Her hands were soft, but you could tell that they were strong as well. You glanced up at her briefly to see her checking out your hands, something dirty running through her mind.
"What would you say to a couple more drinks with me and then we can see where the night takes us?" Rita asked you. You gave her a small nod in agreement to her suggestion as you downed your drink.
"I can think of a couple places I'd like to spend the night." The two of you shared a look and Rita set her glass down on the bar.
"Come on, there's no use staying here and wasting money on drinks we don't need," Rita told you. You grabbed your jacket and started walking out of the bar. Rita was fairly close behind you. "Car's waiting."
"Nice car," you noted as she got the door for you. You slid over all the way and she sat down next to you. She tapped on the partition and the car began to pull forward.
There wasn't much need for conversation on the drive to Rita's place. Her intentions were clear as day from the look in her eye and the way that her hand rested on your thighs. You let her slowly move her hand up, enjoying the little teasing game the two of you had begun.
"Come here," Rita whispered to you. You turned your head to face her and she placed her hand on your cheek. Slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours. You pressed forward and she slid her tongue along your bottom lip. You parted your lips slightly and she slid her tongue inside of her mouth. Her tongue tasted like expensive wine with a hint of something smooth and dark. "You taste sweet, like honey."
Heat rose to your cheeks at Rita’s statement. Inside the car, there was nowhere for you to hide away. So, you decided to do something a little bold. Your hand slid in between the two of you, resting just under the bottom of her skirt. Rita shifted slightly, parting her thighs a bit as she did so. You inched your hand up a bit more and Rita leaned her forehead against yours. 
“If you’ve got a move to make, don’t hesitate,” she advised you. You let your hand keep going, but just as you reached the outside of her underwear, the car stopped. She sighed, obviously annoyed with the timing, but slid away from your gracefully and stepped out of the car. You were certain that you did not look nearly as composed as you followed Rita upstairs into her apartment. 
The elevator ride was a short one, but your concept of time was shot. All you wanted was to feel the press of Rita’s skin against yours. With every step you took towards Rita’s apartment, the faster your heart began to beat in your chest. Excitement and anticipation coursed through your body. 
“I could offer you a drink or we could skip that and go straight to my bedroom,” Rita offered. 
“I think we can skip the drinks.” Rita took your hand and led you down a hallway. She pushed open her bedroom door and shrugged off her blazer. You started on unbuttoning your shirt as she turned around and pulled you into another kiss. The bit of space between the door and her bed was now littered with both of your clothes. 
Rita laid you back on the bed and straddled your waist. You stared up at her, letting your eyes take in every inch of her offered to you. The two of you shared a couple of kisses, the intensity building with each one. Rita’s tongue explored your mouth with the same eagerness of your hands on her body. Your back arched, pushing your hips into hers. 
“I’d tell you to be patient, but that’s not why we’re here, is it?” Rita chuckled at you. It was a husky chuckle, one that sent chills down your spine. Rita trailed her finger down the valley of your breasts, stopping when she reached around where your ribs started. Your heart began to absolutely race as you watched Rita lean down and go over the same path with her tongue. Unlike with her fingers, Rita moved her tongue all the way down to your hips. 
She placed her hands on your knees and spread your legs apart. You watched her with baited breath as she leaned down in between your legs. Both of her hands slid down the length of your thighs, blunt nails scratching lightly over your skin. Ever so slowly, Rita leaned forward and dragged her tongue through your folds. 
She hummed at the taste of you on her tongue. Below her, you were writhing in pleasure as she sucked your clit into her mouth. Rita quickly moved her mouth down to lap at your entrance, licking up what was beginning to drip down. Rita briefly leaned away from you, but before you could let out a whine, she pushed two fingers inside of you. 
“Oh, fuck,” you groaned as she started to slowly fuck you. Rita sat back and watched as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. Rita moved her other hand in between your legs, rubbing your clit. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out, bucking your hips to match the speed of Rita’s fingers inside of you. 
“Be a good girl, don’t hold back,” Rita told you. She leaned forward a bit until she was practically hovering over you. Rita’s fingers curled inside of you and your head pushed back against the mattress. Your mouth fell open, moans and swears pouring out from your lips. “You’re so close aren’t you? I can feel you around my fingers.” 
You glanced up at Rita, noting the smirk on her face as she curled her fingers against your g-spot once again. Her fingers rolled over your clit and you absolutely lost it. Rita moved her hand away from your clit, but kept her fingers slowly rocking inside of you. She waited until your body relaxed before pulling out of you completely. 
“Look at me,” Rita told you as she moved to straddle you again. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open and look at her. A fire was set inside of you as you watched her lick your cum off of her fingers. You grabbed Rita’s hips and flipped the two of you so that you were on top. 
Rita’s hands entangled themselves in your hair as she guided your head in between her legs. You could see that she was soaked, and it looked like she’d been touching herself. It was obvious that Rita didn’t need any teasing, not that you believed she’d take it from you anyways. She was a woman who got what she wanted and you were more than prepared to give it away. 
“Fuck me,” Rita told you as she stared down at you. You let her pull your head in closer until your mouth was on her clit. Your tongue circled the bundle of nerves several times before you ran the flat part over it. Rita cried out in pleasure as you continued that. Her hips chased friction as you traced your fingertips over her entrance. 
You hummed happily as your fingers were enveloped with her warmth and wetness. Above you, Rita commanded more, to which you happily obliged. You kept going faster, keeping a quick pace with three fingers inside of her. You curled them several times, relishing in how she’d shake when you did. When Rita came, she came hard, the evidence of her arousal coating your fingers and dripping down along your hand and wrist. 
“Goddamn,” Rita panted. You moved out from between her legs and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft, something you hadn’t noticed until now. Exhaustion began to settle in, but Rita had yet to tell you that you had to leave. Chances were you could make it away early enough in the morning to avoid anything too awkward. Normally, you’d just bolt as soon as the two of you were finished, but then Rita rolled over a little and you could feel her body pressing against yours. Between Rita and the sheets, there was no way that you were going anywhere that night.
Taglist: @storiesofsvu​ @xixxiixx​ @wannabe-fic-reader​ @gay-ass-bitch​ @mysticfalls01​ 
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purple-stuck · 3 years
Note
I really adore your writing! Can I PLEASE request a purple Sollux drabble? Maybe interacting with gamzee?
hey, gz. wanna hang out?
Gamzee stared down at his phone, squinting his eyes at the purple text. Somewhere in his addled think pan he thought it was strange. Sollux hardly hung out with anyone in person. He was always a shut in, especially for Purple blood standards. Only clown who'd attended less church was probably Gamzee himself and that was only because Sollux sometimes made video calls. But, ever sense Aradia... it was a miracle he still answered texts.
Still, Gamzee wasn't gonna say no to his blood brother's company. Maybe Feferi helped him cope. Maybe he went pale for Karkat, those two had always been close. Hardly mattered.
WeLl, ShIt. SuRe MoThErFuCkEr. CaN't SaY nO tO a NiCe AnD pRoPeR hAnGiNg SeSsIoN. wAnT mE tO sWiNg By YoUr PlAcE, oR wHaT?
nah. ii'm at the door. ii wa2 iin the area and fiigured ii'd a2k.
Right on cue, there was indeed a knock at Gamzee's front door. Huh. Sollux must've been right at the door when he texted. Made sense. If Karkat was any indication, Sollux had a habit of just barging into a brother's hive like he lived there and playing all their video games. Probably remembered at the last second that he and Gamzee weren't that close.
When Gamzee open the front door, he found himself staring at Captor's chest. Even hunched over as he was, Sollux was still the tallest troll Gamzee knew. The boy managed to be both lankier and buffer than Gamzee somehow. Granted, that's not hard. It'd be a stretch to call any version of Sollux Captor buff, but any purple blood with a proper lusus was going to be thicker than Gamzee.
Gamzee stopped that thought dead before it sunk in any deeper.
"At least I know I'm not interrupting anything." Sollux said dryly. "That's not the hair of someone who had plans for the evening."
Gamzee snorted, appreciating that the ribbing was good natured. Sollux didn't regard him with the same contempt, say, Equius did, so it was hard to take anything he said as an actual insult. Same deal with Karkat, really. "So, what brings you around to my hive? Feferi finally convince you to go outside?"
Sollux's lips twitched into a smirk before he jutted his thumb behind him. "Nah. I'm just picking up an old hobby."
Gamzee's eyes trailed to the cart Sollux had parked at the bottom of the steps, a chill going down his spine at the sight of faintly blue blood trailing down it's side. "Oh..."
Gamzee's eyes twitched back to Sollux, who just sighed. "I'm on my second kill, so don't worry. I don't kill in odd numbers. Plus, I've seen you making diamond eyes at Karkat and I'm not that much of a dick."
Gamzee let go off a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Well, it's good to know I won't be adding to Aradia's fucking corpse collection-"
Sollux stiffened and Gamzee stopped dead. Shit. Fuck. He should know better. What was he doing bring up Aradia, fuck-
"It's... fine." Sollux sighed, bringing his hand to his temple as he steadied himself. "I'm fine. It's fine. She would've found it funny, anyways." Sollux forced a smile onto his face. "Besides, you're not wrong. She'd love to throw corpse parties for these motherfuckers in whatever rung of the Dark Carnival she wound up in."
Gamzee laughed politely and stepped aside to let Sollux in before the conversation got any more uncomfortable. Sollux plopped onto the couch, quickly propping his legs up on the table. "You got any video games? I somehow doubt you're much of a shooter fan."
Gamzee grunted, sliding him a faygo as he took his seat. "Nah. Tav got me into fiduspawn. You ever play that?"
Sollux snorted. "Funny story about that, actually. EQ got me into it. I was talking shit about it around him and he protested that NP was into it."
"Did he? Shit, man, good for him. He always kinda... rolls over around me. Motherfucker's always trying to please me."
"Well, yeah. It's NP we're talking about here. You'd complain is I started talking shit about Tavros."
Gamzee blinked. That was... oddly pointed coming from Sollux. Sure, every word sounded like a sarcastic insult when you put it in his mouth, but it sounded like he was trying to make a point. That suddenly serious stare wasn't helping, and it made Gamzee cough uncomfortably.
"Uh, yeah, I would." His eyes flickered towards the door. Towards the cart. "...Why?"
"You got any feelings for him?"
Now this was starting to get wildly out of character. Sollux was the last person to stick his nose into anyone's love life, unless it was to annoy Eridan somehow. Hell, people just being sappy around him annoyed him, which made this even more bizarre.
"Yeah, well, Tav, said he wasn't interested."
"He's not?"
"Look, bro, I appreciate it, but we don't need an auspistice. You can't mediate what ain't there."
"But you do feel something for him. You care about him, pitch, red, I don't care how." Sollux was almost looming over him now, even without standing up. Gamzee was beginning to wonder whether he should go for his clubs when Sollux sighed.
"Right, right. That.... probably doesn't make any sense to you. I'm sorry." He stood up, face not just sour like usual, but outright grim. "Let me show you what I'm talking about."
Sollux made his way to the door wheeled his cart inside, a chill went down Gamzee's spine.
"...Bro. Did you?"
"No. Gog no. Fucking Messiahs above, hell no! I cull trolls but I'm not a sick fuck who parades their corpses around in front of their friends."
Sollux looked down at the cart, at the body hidden beneath the crumpled sheet. He seemed far, far away for a moment, like his soul had been taken by the Messiahs themselves and his body was an empty shell they left behind.
"You... know Aradia's dead, right?"
Gamzee relaxed, more confused and sad now than afraid. "Yeah."
Sollux looked at him. "Do you know how she died?"
Sollux didn't need an answer and he didn't wait for one. The purple voids of his eyes showed behind his matching glasses. "It started... when Vriska abducted me."
"I was out doing my regular, bi-wipely rounds. Looking for two bodies for Aradia to preserve in a 'corpse party'. Or, more accurately, looking to make two bodies for her to preserve."
"I'd spotted a couple of burgundies, so I went to make my move. I'd barely seen Vriska's face by the time the bag was over my head and by then the needles were in my neck. My guess is she'd paid some FLARPers to help her. I know damn well she couldn't handle me alone."
"When I woke up, I was in Vriska's hive. She looked so... fucking smug when she had me all chained up. She explained what Aradia did to her. Talked about how she'd sent some ghosts her way... and she wanted to get even."
"So Vriska was going to have me kill Aradia."
"That's when the torture began. It was pretty amateurish, but that's all it needed to be. She just needed to distract me, make a crack for her to slip into... one opening was all she needed to grab my mind."
Sollux was staring down at nothing by the time he finished, bending the metal handles of his cart with his grip.
"I still remember the walk to Aradia's hive." He said, choking back something. "I could hear her scream in my mind before she even saw me."
Gamzee's hand landed on his shoulder, snapping Sollux back to reality. Sollux pushed the smaller clown back before clearing his throat. "So, the next time I left my hive, I decided to pay Serket a visit."
Sollux threw the tarp off to reveal Vriska's mangled body. Or, what was of it.
Gamzee took at a step back. The amount of patchwork Sollux had to do to get Vriska's upper torso back in one piece would be impressive if it didn't imply how grizzly the scene must've been before he started. Tellingly, Sollux didn't even try to put Vriska's legs back together. He just dumped the soupified slop into a box and put it on the bottom shelf of his cart.
"Jegus..."
"Yeah, I got carried away."
Gamzee backed up and fell onto the couch, mostly just to get away from the smell. Sollux pulled his two swords out of Vriska's head, wiping them clean in one quick stroke.
"So... why are you telling me this?" Gamzee asked.
Sollux seemed to think for a moment, staring at his reflection in the blades. "To try to understand." He waved his blades vaguely over Vriska's... "body" for lack of a better word. "Most of this was unnecessary. She died quickly but... it wasn't satisfying."
Sollux looked at Gamzee meaningfully. "I figured you could tell me why."
Gamzee's eyes widened. "Shit, man, you mean because..."
"Of Tavros. Yeah. Vriska killed him. The army won't take someone who can't walk and he has no where else to go. That's assuming someone like, well, me, doesn't just pick him up off the streets. He's living on borrowed time on a planet like this, and that's all her fault."
Sollux looked at Gamzee meaningfully. "So... is this satisfying to you?"
Gamzee sunk into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Fuck, man. You can't do this to a motherfucker. This is a lot to drop on me all at once." He looked at the corpse, trying not to curl his nose at the sight. "...I mean... no. Fuck, I'd hesitate to say anyone even deserves that, but mostly it just makes me feel... kinda sick."
Sollux slumped down. "I don't get it. This should be satisfying. We should be glad that she's dead, but we're not."
Again, Gamzee was there, suddenly resting a hand on Sollux's shoulder. "...Look, man. I'm sorry I'm not any help with this. Karbro is so much better at this shit than me, but..."
"...I guess it's not really her death that we're looking for. We're looking for a way to make it so all the problems she caused never happened. And... that's not gonna happen. I've accepted that Tav's not gonna get his legs back... and I think he's accepted that too. And, Aradia, wherever she might be now up in that Dark Carnival, knows that she's not coming back either. So... shit, maybe we should just... keep moving?"
Sollux stared at him blankly, before that default grouchy snarl crept back onto his face. "That's a really shitty way to end that spiel, you know that?"
Gamzee shrugged, that some color had bled back into Sollux's face. "Well, shit. I'm no Karkat and you know it."
"Yeah, you're not. I'd still be huddled up inside without that grouchy asshole."
Sollux sighed. Not tiredly, but like a weight had been lifted somewhat. With all that off his chest, Sollux tilted his head up. He nonchalantly lined up his swords and slid them down his throat, swallowing up his blades until only the hilts remained to dangled beneath his uvula. Gamzee squinted at him curiously.
"....What?"
"Shit, man, I have no idea how you manage to talk like that."
Sollux smirked, grabbing his faygo off the table and chugging it in two swigs. At this point, he was just showing off. "Very, very carefully. I'll teach you sometime."
Sollux threw the tarp back onto his cart and began peddling it out the door. "I'd better get going, the sun will rise soon." Gamzee waved him off as he opened the door, pausing just before he closed. "Oh, by the way. You owe me a game night. This one derailed."
Gamzee just nodded as Captor slammed the door, knowing that was Sollux-ese for "let's hang out sometime".
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hellimagines · 4 years
Text
Indebted to You -- Barry OBX
Masterlist
Summary: As JJ Maybank’s older sister it’s always been your top priority to protect your little brother. Even if that means easing your father’s temper by indebting yourself to Outerbanks’ top dealer.
Warnings: child abuse, frequent dr*g mention and dr*g dealing (of the non-oui’d variety), paying off someone else’s debt non-conventionally
Pairing: Barry x fem!Maybank!reader
Word Count: 2.4K
DISCLAIMER: Please, for the love of fuck, DO NOT do hard dr*gs just because you think they’re ‘cool’ or because you think dating a dealer is ‘cool’. Believe me when I tell you that neither of those things are cool, and that is NOT what I am trying to get across with this story; I don’t condone hard dr*g use.
A/N: This is something I pulled out of my ass because I wanted to write for Barry really bad, but I didn’t have any ideas. It has potential but I’m not sure if it’s gonna go anywhere. Also, Barry may be a little OOC since we don’t get much from his character. Anyway, I hope you guys like this and let me know what you think!
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You released a slow, aggravated huff while staring down at your drunken father. He sat hunched over on the couch, with his elbows digging into his knees and his gaze trained on the coffee table before him. Behind you, your younger brother was curled into an armchair with a frozen bag of expired peas pressed against his left eye and a bloody tissue under his nose. You yourself had a welt already throbbing and beginning to swell on your cheekbone, but you ignored it in favor of kicking your dad’s limp foot. His head shot up, neck cracking with the unexpected speed, and narrowed his eyes at you dangerously.
“You had some nerve steppin’ in on something that wasn’t your business. What’ve I told you ‘bout stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong?” he snarled while attempting to stand, but was pathetically unsuccessful due to his inebriated state. All he managed to do was stumble and fall back down on the couch with a grunt. 
You rolled your eyes, “And what’ve I told you about mixing your whiskey and blow? I already have your grave dug outback, and the sooner you keep this shit going, the sooner I get to toss your ass inside it.” Luke scoffed at your words but didn’t offer a rebuttal as he flexed his bloody knuckles. “JJ didn’t touch the fucking money-- I’ve been keeping ahold of it so nothing goes missing before I head to Barry’s. You’d remember that if you weren’t fucking high or drunk all the time. JJ’s got his own job and is making his own money, he doesn’t need to jack your rolled bills for anything.” 
You pulled out a wad of recently-flattened bills, shaking the cash in front of your dad’s face. It was roughly $600 that you had made the past weekend while bouncing from Kook party to Kook party. Luke’s eyes widened at the sight of the money and he instinctively reached out to grab it from you. Your arm jerked back and you clutched the wad tightly before shoving it back into the pocket of your leather jacket. 
With a shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your brother a once over, nodding to yourself after assessing he wouldn’t be dropping dead anytime soon. “Why don’t you go to JB’s? I’ve got shit handled here and I heard the waves were supposed to be good before the sun sets.” 
“You sure? I can go with you-”
“Over my dead body. I got involved in this so you didn’t have to. Scram, before I change my mind and make you clean the kitchen.” JJ frowned but did as he was told, depositing the peas back in the freezer before making his way out the front door. You turned back to your dad, who was now laying on the couch with an arm thrown over his face. “I don’t have many more runs to do before we’re out of this shit-eating debt you caused with Barry. Keep your paws off the cash and we won’t have any problems, okay? You can’t fuck this up before I manage to fix it. Please, dad,” you whispered pleadingly and lowered yourself to the edge of the coffee table. 
Your dad peeked open an eye at you before laughing darkly. “You’re running the game, princess. The streets know you, but even worse, those rich Kooks know you and know what you have to offer. That won’t be forgotten, especially with how good you’ve been running that shit. You’re not gonna be getting out anytime soon, so what’s it matter if a couple twenties go missin’ or a gram gets cut on our table? Don’t piss Barry off and don’t get caught by the cops, and you’ll be set for life.” 
“No, I’m not like you,” you growled as your lip curled into a sneer. “I don’t wanna keep dealing and end up bitter and angry and alone, like you. Once I’m finished working off your debt, I’m done.” 
Luke shot up from the couch in the blink of an eye, towering over you while gripping your jaw tightly. You could feel his fingers painfully digging into your skin, pressing against your teeth, and making you wince. “Doesn’t matter what you fucking want. This isn’t your world, princess. Once people know who’s moving product in the streets, you’re stuck. So you may as well embrace the Maybank name and take what you can while you can. Now, be a good girl and go make daddy proud,” he hissed in your ear, before roughly letting go of your jaw by flinging your head to the side. You teetered off the edge of the table and fell to your side on the floor, but Luke didn’t spare you a second glance as he stepped over you and stumbled to his room. 
After pushing yourself to your feet and massaging your sore jaw, you shot a glare toward the direction of your father’s room. “Fuck you,” you spat quietly before leaving the house and slamming the door shut behind you.
By the time you made it to Barry’s trailer, the sun had set and the small grassy area Barry called his ‘backyard’ was lit up with lights, noises, and people. You made your way around the trailer, nodding to a few people you recognized before you found Barry lounging in a lawn chair with a beer in his hand. His smile was wide and dirty as he laughed with the people surrounding him, seemingly at ease with everyone. When he noticed you walking toward him out of the corner of his eye, his smile brightened and he shouted out for you.
“Ay, look who it is!” he yelled, waving an arm out toward you while the others cheered at your arrival. “I was just thinkin’ about you, sweetheart. C’mon, sit down with me. I left a chair open just for you,” Barry smiled, gesturing to the black lawn chair beside him with a Mikes waiting in the arm pocket. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but to snicker softly at him and take the offered chair. 
“What made you so certain I’d show up tonight?” you hummed teasingly while opening the spiked limeade that had been waiting for you. 
Barry grinned over the lid of his beer, his brown eyes watching you intently as you drank from your bottle. “Because I know you, sweetheart. Sunday nights are your drop-off nights.” Your cheeks warmed at his comment, but you played it off with a scoff and shake of your head. “I wanted to make sure you were more comfortable tonight, so I kept that chair open for ya and grabbed your favorite while on a liquor run.” 
A harsh scoff came from a chair on the other side of Barry, and you peeked around him to see who it came from. “Special privilege for his new fucktoy, what a surprise,” the voice muttered, and you recognized it as one of Barry’s frequent buyers, Sherry. You’d never had a conversation with the girl despite having gone to school with her in the past, and even though she was always at Barry’s get-togethers, she typically seemed more focused on her next fix rather than talking with anyone.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Barry snapped, turning to look at her with a clenched jaw. He seemed to purposefully be blocking her view of you, and you remained silent as the altercation unfolded.
“You know what it means,” she snapped back. “Whenever a new piece of trash starts selling for you, you put your dick in her and use her until another one shows up. But, you never bought them their favorite bitch-drink or saved them a seat, so what makes this one so much better, huh? Why does she get to sit in the big, nice chair next to you, but the rest of us have to have three-legged chairs and warm beers? What about her cunt makes her so much better?” Marie shouted, causing a couple of the others to whistle in disbelief. 
Before Barry could respond, one of the boys in the circle spoke up. “Maybe it’s cause she’s not a psychotic bitch who snorts the blow instead of selling it.”  You could hear Marie’s angry gasp at the diss, and when Barry gave her a pointed look rather than defending her, she flipped off the group before storming away. 
“Remind me why we let Sherry stick around all the time?” Someone questioned as you idly picked at the label on your bottle.
“Because this ain’t a fuckin’ gated community,” Barry scoffed as though it was obvious. The other chuckled in agreement before the conversation picked up and everyone went back to their own thing. You cleared your throat awkwardly once the attention was off of you, not knowing how to respond-- or if you were even supposed to. Barry gave a deep sigh, “Sorry about that, sweetheart. Don’t listen to anything she said, Sherry just hasn’t been doing great since she lost custody of her son. You’re not a fucktoy and I ain’t got no intention of using you like that.”
“Don’t worry about it, she’s going through shit and I get it. I shouldn’t stay long anyway, Luke’s fucked off his ass and if I’m gone much longer he’ll flip,” you shrugged, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the cash as you spoke. “I made about $600 this weekend, and I know it’s not as much as it usually is, but someone had already hit up the beach and two of my usual places by the time I was able to start selling. So, I was stuck at Rafe’s party all of last night and only a handful of small pickups on Friday night.” You handed the wad over to Barry with an apologetic wince. “I still have some blow left over, so I’ll try and push a few eight-balls before the weekend. I’m sorry it’s not more.” Barry flicked through the cash quietly as you explained everything to him, before folding it into his pocket once it was all counted. He finished off his beer while looking you over, causing the nervous feeling in your stomach to grow. 
“Sweetheart,” he began with a shockingly gentle sigh, “You ain’t gotta apologize for any of that shit. You’re cleaning up your daddy’s debt because he’s too useless to do it himself, yet you’re not bitter or angry at everyone because of it. I’ve heard of the way you stick by new users throughout the night, making sure they’re using safely and doing okay. You still go to your day job and take care of your brother and his shithead-friends despite being up past dawn most days. You’re doing great, and I don’t ever wanna hear you apologize for thinking you’re not doing enough.” 
Your cheeks flamed and your eyes widened in shock as you spluttered helplessly at the man in front of you. “I wasn’t implying that I wasn’t doing enough! I just know how much my dad owes you, and $600 weekends are gonna take too long to pay it off.”
Barry raised an eyebrow at you before grabbing onto the arm of your chair and tugging you closer to him. You yelped at the sudden movement, bracing yourself for the inevitable collapse of you and your chair. Barry laughed loudly at you when you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the chair tightly, but there was no mirth or mock behind his laugh. Once the chair stopped moving and his laugh slowed to a chuckle, you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Relax,” he chuckled, reaching out to move a strand of hair out of your face. “I wasn’t gonna let you fall, just wanted to talk to you better.”
“You could’ve just asked me to move closer,” you grumbled, casting your eyes to the side as your cheeks flushed. “And I told you I can’t stay long to chat.”
Barry gave you a nonchalant shrug, “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, if your daddy’s got an issue with you keeping me company, I’ll just go and have a talk with him. I don’t want you worrying about him when you’ve got enough going on. Stay for a bit, sweetheart. I’ve got a whole cooler full of those Mikes, and you’re the only one I’m allowin’ to drink ‘em. If you really wanna go, I won’t stop you, but I want you to know that I don’t mind you stickin’ around me for a while.”
You bit your lip as you considered Barry’s offer, quietly looking out at the happy party-goers. It was calmer than any Kook party or Boneyard Blowout you had attended, and you had to admit that you loved the calm and welcoming atmosphere. Barry’s warm hand settled over your propped up knee, bringing your attention back to his hopeful eyes. 
“Okay, fine,” you caved and Barry squeezed your knee in delight. “But, you have to go get me a drink. Sherry was right, this chair is comfortable as fuck and I don’t wanna get up.” 
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Barry teased and patted your knee before leaving to grab your drink. You stared after him with a bashful smile, unable to help yourself as the nervous feeling in your stomach evolved into flustered butterflies.
‘Shit,’ you groaned to yourself, ‘I’ve got a schoolgirl crush on this motherfucker. I’m so screwed.’
454 notes · View notes
hogarthwrites · 3 years
Text
house sitting for two chapter 17
chapters:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 pairing: Sam Drake/Reader (m/f) genre: smut, slow romance, mutual pining warnings: graphic sex, alcohol words: 2,901 summary: You're unsure about dating someone else and it makes you guilty about still being in love. You make your mind up when you run into a certain someone one night.
Sam and Sully had gone to Las Vegas. “Just because,” Sam reasoned. He needed to forget how empty he felt whenever it was nighttime and he was lonely in bed.
Instead, he and Sully gambled, outsmarting each other in their own games. At the end of the night, Sam would go to the nearest bar to drink. That’s where he was reunited with Victoria, an old flame he had just before Panama.
Victoria – or Vix – as he called her, was a nice enough woman. She was as loud as he remembered her and he genuinely did have fun with her, and there was an understanding between them: it was just sex.
He'd take her to his RV every night, and every single time he fucked her, he thought of you. As he dug his fingers into the soft skin of her hips, he closed his eyes, imagining you, drowning out the sounds of her moans. He couldn't understand how he became so attached to you but no other person.
It was then the telephone started ringing. Sam sighed, considering his options. He wasn't close yet and he wasn't in a hurry so he got up and hobbled to the phone.
“Yeah?” Sam leaned against the wall, expecting it to be Sully calling from his five-star hotel room, but there was no response.
“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” Victoria whined. “I was so close.”
“Just a second,” he turned away from her. “Hello? Hello?”
The line cut out, leaving Sam confused. Must've been a wrong number.
He drove Sully back to California the next day, feeling a little sad about being back in Paso Robles. It didn't stop him from looking around as he drove, hoping to get a glance of you – that is, if you stayed in the area.
“I've gotta say that was the first Vegas trip I've been on where I haven't made any life altering decisions,” Sully mused. “Hell, that was the mildest experience I've had.”
“Jeez, Victor, sorry I made it lame,” Sam joked. Deep down they knew they were too old to get shit faced drunk and make horrible decisions just after a few nights in Las Vegas.
“Ah, maybe next time,” Sully picked up his bags as Sam parked in front of his mid-century style home. “What's next for Samuel Drake?”
“Uh,” Sam thought. “Gonna visit a special lady named Irene, then hopefully my business partner can find another job for us.”
“Oh, Irene,” Sully chuckled.
“Ah, so you know her,” Sam smiled.
“The ‘70’s were a wild time, Sam,” Sully winked, confirming yours and Sam’s suspicions.
“Well, good for you, Victor. She's still single, just so you know.”
“Right,” Sully laughed. “Hey, maybe you should go up to Los Angeles, just see the sights. Weather’s nice this time of the year.”
Huh , Sam thought to himself. He hasn't been in LA in years. It won't hurt to stop by.
“Sure, Victor. I'll send you a postcard.”
“There's an open house this weekend,” Stephen said over the phone. “I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, I'm totally cool with it.” You lay in the hammock of your backyard, smoking a cigarette and mindlessly scrolled through social media. Sam was always on your Instagram, giving you just a glimmer of hope.
“I'll call as much as I can. I love you.”
You paused, chewing on you lip. “I'll see you soon, Steve.”
You felt the tiniest pang of guilt as you felt a bit of relief to be away from Stephen for two weeks. As much as you tried, you couldn't love him. Sam was still in your mind and everytime you had sex with Stephen, you thought about Sam. It just didn't feel as good.
It didn't stop you from being racked with guilt. You didn't want to be with Stephen, but you didn't want to be lonely.
I'm a horrible person and I had the audacity to call Sam a selfish bastard, you let out an angry puff of smoke. Maybe we are a lot more alike than I thought.
You groaned as you slid off the hammock hanging on your back porch and padded your way into your kitchen to get a drink. The silence was overwhelming while you poured yourself a glass of orange juice.
You retired to your room and climbed into your cold, empty bed. You hated the silence. You missed Sam’s voice as he talked on and on about something that excited him.
You read and reread the letter he wrote you in the hospital. It was short but it was enough to make you miss him every time.
I'm sorry. No one's ever done anything like that for me and I feel horrible. Please get better. I'll make you pancakes like I promised long ago.
I love you,
Sam
The landline phone caught your attention. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear his voice just for a bit.
You hastily got up and walked to the phone, mind racing as you picked up the receiver. You assured yourself it was fine and that Sam never had a caller ID.
Here goes, you held your breath as you dialed his number, dreading the ringing tones.
It kept ringing and you were scared it'll go to voicemail, but after a while, Sam finally picked up.
“Yeah?” He was out of breath.
Just that one word made your heart leap. You opened your mouth to say something when you heard someone in the background.
“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” a woman said in a sultry voice. “I was so close.”
“Just a second,” Sam called out. “Hello? Hello?”
You hung up. That was a terrible idea.
Irene was overjoyed to see Sam, peppering his face in kisses.
“Oh, you've grown so tall!” She joked. “It's so nice to see you, Sam.”
“You know I can't stay away from my favourite weed lady,” he chuckled.
“Are you staying long?”
“Nah, just dropping by to say ‘hi’.”
“Well ‘hi’ to you too,” she smiled.
She gave him a pan of banana bread (and some weed) before he left, asking if he ever got to see you. He wished he did.
You lay on the floor of your living room, music blasting on the stereo as you had a pity party. You had to end things with Stephen as the guilt was becoming too much for you to bear.
You had put the ring back on, staring at it as you held your hand up. You needed a drink.
The fluorescent lights of the store were a little too bright for you and you trudged to the fridge, ignoring the guy manning the cashier.
“You look like shit again,” he remarked.
“‘Kay, thanks for the input, Troy,” you muttered. Asshole.
You grabbed a few bottles of beer, hugging them to your chest. Just another Friday night.
“Sorry, I need a pack of cigarettes… Or two,” you heard a familiar voice. You peeked behind a shelf of condoms.
It was Sam. What the hell is he doing in LA and in this particular store too?
Fuck. You began to panic, glancing down at yourself. The grey sweatpants and your stained DIY shirt you painted years ago wasn’t the most flattering outfit and it didn't help that your hair was a mess.
You wanted him to just go, but through your panicked state, you dropped one of the bottles in your arms, catching Sam’s attention.
“Y/N?” He looked at you curiously.
“Heyy, Sam,” you sheepishly stepped away from the mess on the floor.
“Clean up on aisle two,” Troy mumbled, grabbing the broom and a mop.
“Sorry, I'll pay for that,” you tiptoed past him.
“No, I'll pay for it,” Sam looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Your heart leaped when you met his gentle eyes. “That's a lot of bottles.”
“TGIF, right?” You awkwardly laughed. Idiot.
“Can't argue with that,” Sam smiled.
Troy totalled up yours and Sam’s purchases after a lot of whining. Sam helped you carry your bottles of beer.
“Where ya heading?” He asked.
“Home. It's not too far from here.”
“Come on, I'll give you a lift,” he nudged you.
“No, it's fine,” you shook your head.
“You don't wanna see my snazzy new tiny home?”
“Tiny home,” you chuckled. “Yeah, sure I'd love to see it.”
Sam had a nice little RV with his motorcycle secured on it. It wasn't too fancy inside; his books were neatly organised on a small shelf by the sofa/dining area, the plants you left him on a box by the window, and a large bed in the back with just a curtain for privacy.
“Wow,” you looked around. “What made you wanna get an RV?”
“Eh, just wanted to be able to move around easier,” he shrugged as he sat in the driver's seat. “It's not permanent, but it's been alright so far.”
You took the seat next to him, fastening your seatbelt.
“Where to?” Sam asked.
“Its just a few blocks away. Go west.”
It was supposed to be a short drive, but it felt longer to you. You didn't know what to say and neither did Sam, just Spandau Ballet softly playing on the radio filling in the silence.
“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “LA… Why? You planning on being in Hollywood?”
You shrugged. “I've always lived in smaller towns, I thought a bigger city might be an experience.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Do you like it?”
“It's been alright,” you shrugged again. “I haven't gotten around to exploring as much. Oh, it's just here.”
You pointed at the one-story Spanish revival house you've been staying in. Sam parked in front and you picked up your paper bag, heavy with the bottles.
“Let me help you with that,” Sam reached out, his hand touching your arm. It was enough to make you feel hot all over.
He locked eyes with you and for a moment, you thought he was leaning in to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes, waiting, but nothing happened.
When you opened your eyes, Sam was holding the paper bag and walking towards the door.
Oh, you were disappointed. What was I expecting?
He walked you to the door, his eyes on you the entire time.
“I missed you,” he said, making your heart leap again.
“Sam,” you looked up at him as you reached your door.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “I just… Couldn't get you out of my mind in months, I had to say it.”
“I missed you too,” you softly said.
This time, you felt his lips on yours, and you instinctively kissed him back. There were butterflies in your stomach, but the moment didn't last.
Sam stepped back, his face a little flushed. You felt your cheeks heat up as well.
He held out the paper bag to you. “Um, good night.”
“Good night…” You whispered as he turned to go back to his RV. “Sam, wait–”
He looked back, and you walked towards him.
“You can park in my driveway for the night… Or however long you're going to stay here.”
“I don't want to be a burden–”
“What? Sam, it's me. I…” You bit your lip. “I want you here. Maybe we can hang out.”
“Okay,” he smiled.
You took a deep breath as you closed your door behind you, your heart still racing. Sam kissed you and for the first time in months, you felt… Happy?
You placed the bottles in your fridge, no longer interested in drinking them, then changed into cleaner clothes for bed. You peeked out your window and saw the lights were still on in his RV.
You wanted to go to him, to kiss him more, to hold him again, but you thought of Stephen. True, he wasn't your boyfriend officially, but he trusted you. But still…
You found yourself in front of Sam’s door, and as you were about to knock, Sam opened the door.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
You stood, staring at each other as if you both couldn't believe it. Sam pulled you into his arms, and you kissed him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you in, closing the door behind him with his foot.
He sat you on the table, his hands sliding down to your ass.
“I missed you,” he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck.
You sighed as he left cool kisses on the hot skin of your neck. He pulled you close and you wrapped your legs around his waist again.
“Sam,” you whispered as he began lifting your shirt.
“What–what is it?” He rested his forehead on yours.
“Should we be doing this?” You asked, trailing your finger down his chest.
Sam kissed you. “I don't know, but it feels so right.”
Your shirt and your shorts were discarded somewhere around his RV and Sam had your legs over his shoulders as he kneeled in front of the table. He gave your clit a few licks, his eyes on yours the entire time.
“God, I missed this view,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“What, your new boyfriend doesn't eat you out?” He gave you a smug smirk.
“He’s not my boyf–”
Sam continued licking your clit, closing his eyes as he pushed his face further against your pussy. It was getting too much for you and you tugged at his hair.
“More, Sam, more,” you moaned.
You felt him smile against you as he began sucking on your clit softly, switching between sucking and licking. You bucked your hips against him but he held you down.
Sam gave a satisfied hum as you came, your thighs squeezing his head.
“How was that?” He stood up, leaning over you on the table. It was then you noticed that he was still fully dressed, but the tent in his grey sweatpants was hard to ignore.
“I think I've been missing out on Samuel Drake,” you chuckled.
He pulled you up and carried you to the bed bridal style.
“Wait, Sam,” you sat up as he climbed over you.
“What?”
“I've been having sex.”
He blinked at you. “So?”
“And you have too, I assume?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “So?”
You pushed him away. “So put a condom on.”
Sam gave you an amused smile. “You know you're the only person I've never had safe sex with.”
“Good to know,” you stuck your tongue out. “But put one on.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, standing up.
Sam held the condom up before climbing on top of you to kiss you. “Happy?”
You took off his shirt and he climbed out of his sweatpants, cock glistening with precum. It was enough to get you wet.
He ripped the condom packet open and slipped it on with ease. Sam gave you soft, sweet kisses as he began pushing inside you.
You both gasped at the sensation, Sam had his lip pinned between his teeth as he pushed deep inside you. He began to thrust slowly and gently cupping your cheek.
“Harder,” you whispered, desperate for more.
Sam groaned as he began pounding into you, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts. He kissed you hard as he collapsed on top of you, rolling over so you were on top of him.
“I wanna see you,” he said, moving your hips against his. “I wanna see you fucking me.”
You placed your hands against the headboard, bouncing on his cock. You moaned out his name loudly; something you've been wanting to do for months. It felt so good to finally have him under you and all you wanted was to make him feel good, to make up for all the lost time.
Sam pulled you in to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I missed you too,” you sighed between kisses.
“I forgot how good you feel,” he kissed your neck.
His hands slid down to your ass, spreading then as he rammed his hips up against yours. You grabbed at the pillow at his head, crying out loud. His finger dipped into your asshole and you moaned out.
The dual sensation was enough to make you cum, and Sam wasn’t far behind. He kissed you hard as he came, holding you close.
You were breathless as you rolled off him and he took the condom off, dunking it into the trash.
The bed dipped as he climbed back in, lying on his back next to you.
“Wanna see something cool?” Sam smiled.
He pressed a button and the rather large sunroof opened up, letting in more of the moonlight and the dim streetlights.
“Oh, that is cool,” you grinned. “Why didn't you show me before we fucked?”
“I don't think your neighbours would be too happy seeing us fornicate if they happened to look out the window.”
“You think they can really see us?”
Sam shrugged, putting an arm under his head and stared up at the sky with you.
“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” You asked.
“Are you gonna give me the Grand Los Angeles tour?”
“Honestly, I haven't even toured it myself,” you sheepishly said. “It hasn't really felt like home.”
“Well,” Sam looked up in thought. “Maybe we can start with Santa Monica? I believe it isn't too far from here.”
“Okay,” you took his hand in yours.
39 notes · View notes
ikleesfiction · 3 years
Text
I just wanna feel alive with you
Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 1,488 words Pairing : Jay Halstead x reader; Will Halstead x Natalie Manning Author's note : This is the second one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.
Disclaimer
The Manning/Halstead family hears the doorbell ring in the evening. Owen runs from the kitchen to the door, yelling, "It's Uncle Jay! It's Uncle Jay!"
"Stay right where you are, Owen! Do not open the door by yourself!" yells Natalie back from the kitchen.
Will puts the last salmon on the plate and then moves to open the door, ready to welcome Jay and his girlfriend. Jay told him yesterday that he will bring you to dinner tonight. These last couple of months, Will and Natalie have met you a few times at Molly's. Natalie welcomed you back with open arms, but Will still has some resistance. He doesn't exactly disapprove of you for his brother. Will is just waiting for any sign of you changing your mind about staying. Jay told Will that he is happy and asked Will to give his girlfriend a chance. That's why Will agreed to host dinner tonight at their house.
"Hi, Dr. Halstead," you greet Will politely. Will crosses his hands in front of his chest. "We brought cheesecake?" you offer Will the box on your hands.
"What kind of cheesecake?" Owen pops out behind Will's back.
"Uh, New York, Strawberry, Oreos, Salted Caramel and Hazelnut Chocolate," you describe the content of the box. Seeing Owen's eyes widened in amazement and Will's unimpressed glare, you continue to explain with a grin, "They all look great. I cannot just pick one,"
Owen gives Will's pants a tug, "I like cheesecake," He tells Will, afraid that Will is going to reject your offer.
"I know, bud," Will replies to him. "Let's ask Uncle Jay and Miss Y/N to come in," He opens the door wider to let their guests in. Owen quickly latches on you. He drags you (and the cheesecake box) to the kitchen area. 
"If she's trying to get back on my good graces, sugar-crashing Owen is not the correct way to go," Will says to Jay after closing the door. 
Jay smirks at Will, "Hey, you're the one who asked us to bring dessert."
"A momentary lapse of judgment." Will solemnly admits.
◢◤
You and Jay volunteer to wash the dishes after dinner is done, while the family shares a few pieces of cheesecake between the three of them. Once the cakes are finished, Will and Natalie take Owen to get ready for bed. Owen hugs you tight before going. "Thanks for the cheesecake."
You hug him back and land a kiss on his baby cheek, "You're welcome. Sweet dreams, Owen."
You and Jay then move to sit on a couch in the living room. You have a mug of tea in your hand, while Jay has a plate of New York cheesecake in his. A rerun of the Blackhawks game is playing on TV. You put your tea down and start to steal small bites of cake from Jay's plate. But apparently, Jay is not too engrossed by the game as much as you thought. He moves his plate away from your reach with a laugh, "Why don't you take your own piece?"
"Yours is better," You say with Jay's fork still in your hand. 
"Oh yeah?" Jay leans in closer to kiss you. His tongue is asking for an entrance that you gladly give. His kiss is even sweeter than the dessert. You only pull away when you hear Will's clearing his throat loudly, letting you know that they are back in the room. "Hmm, that one tastes the best," Jay hums to you before he sits back on the couch. 
Will and Natalie sit on the other couch. She has a pad on her hands and seems to be preoccupied with it. 
"Work?" Jay asks Will, pointing out in Natalie's direction.
Will shakes his head to negate, "Wedding preparation." Jay nods his understanding. 
"Hey, Y/N, do you know anyone who could DJ at our wedding?" Natalie looks up to ask you. 
"I could do it," you casually offer the engaged couple.
"What? No way, you're.." Natalie starts to reason. But Will interjects from her side, "We cannot afford your price." 
"I'm not planning to take fees," you feel insulted that they even think you're going to charge them. You glance at Jay for his support. Instead, you see Jay frowns at you rather than at the couple. "What? They're my friends. I won't take their money!" you exclaim.
"I know you won't." Natalie quickly sorts it out and throws a glare at Will. "But as you say, you are our friend. I won't have you working at our wedding reception. You'd be our guest, should enjoy the party." She continues to explain.
"What she said," Jay gestures his hand, agreeing at Natalie's words. "And I'd like to dance with my date at the party. Can't do that if she is the DJ, right?" He throws his arm around your shoulder and kisses your temple.
"Oh, c'mon, that is so not fair. Now I have to rescind my offer," you fake a disappointment, but your lips are twitching with an almost smile. "Okay, I'll ask around, see if anyone available," you tell Natalie.
"Thank you," Natalie taps something on her pad. "Yeah, just make sure their rate is in our budget," Will adds.
Natalie unsubtly elbows Will. He winces a bit, "What? Do you know how much she got paid per show? It's more than what I earned for a week full of surgeries!"
"Well, that's an exaggeration." You retort.
"How do you know how much she earned?" Jay raises his eyebrow at Will, curious.
"You don't know??" Will screeches.
"I do. But y/n is my girlfriend. We talked about this kind of thing. You, on the other hand, weren't even excited to talk to her until last week," Jay divulges to the floor. Will sends stinky eyes to his brother for ratted him out. You pretend to gasp in shock, but Natalie is just laughing at her fiancé. 
"When I decided on a smaller wedding, I thought it would mean fewer things to take care of. But they still seem endless," Natalie puts the pad aside with a loud sigh. "What about you, Y/N? What would be your dream wedding like?"
"City Hall Wedding," you carelessly reply. Jay gapes at your response. You take advantage of his distraction to snitch his last piece of cheesecake.
"Oh, c'mon, be serious!" Will gestures his hand to you, half perplexed, half annoyed.
You drink your lukewarm tea to chase the stolen cheesecake down. "I am serious." 
"You, who could afford a destination wedding on some private island with 500 guests, prefer a city hall wedding?" Will states his doubt.
You roll your eyes, slightly amused, "I'm pretty sure I cannot manage those things you described,"
"You know what I mean. You got a private jet. Got paid for 30k per gig. Your current net worth almost hits eight-figures. You can afford more than city hall." Will tries to get his point across.
"Okay, first of all, I do not have a private jet. It was chartered by the company since it was cheaper than paying plane tickets for the whole touring entourage," you sit up straight to explain. "Second, it's not about what I can afford. It's about what I want to do. I don't like big shindig, hence city hall wedding." you counter Will's argument.
"Unbelievable." Will shakes his head in disbelief.
"Now, if you ask me where would I go for my dream honeymoon? Of that, I could talk your ears off," you wink and grin at the engaged couple.
Natalie looks interested. She puts her hand under her chin, "Alright, I'm listening.."
◢◤
Jay takes you back to his place, even though you moved to your own place a couple weeks ago. You sit cross-legged on Jay's bed, completing your nightly regimen of skincare. Jay already lays at his bedside with one hand behind his head.
"Are you being honest about the city hall wedding?" Jay blurts out from your side. 
"Why?" You ask him back.
Jay shrugs, "Just curious."
You pack your kits in a toiletries pouch and place it on top of the bedside drawer. "Well..." You lay on your side, facing Jay. "The most important thing is to whom I will be married to," Your fingers trace Jay's skin, from his shoulder to his arm. "I rather have a good, strong marriage that lasts forever than a fancy, dreamy wedding for one night." You hold up Jay's hand and kiss the back of it.
Jay groans and moves on his side to look at you, "Ergh, this is why they paid you big bucks for writing songs. You're a sap."
You laugh in response, "But you love me."
"Of course I am," Jay says with absolute certainty. His hand plays softly with your hair before framing your face. "One day, yeah?"
You kiss his palm and copy the sentiment, "One day."
+x Taglist +x
@lorenakaspersen @life-treatments @itsdesiree86
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jokertrap-ran · 3 years
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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-5: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation
“What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?”
*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (^▽^)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night
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Behind the glass wall were several blurry figures busying around.
MC: This should be Team A's area.
Mya had suddenly called a few minutes ago to give me directions to the place I was supposed to report to.
I ran what I was going to say to everyone, in the form of an introduction, through my head once more before gently clearing my throat and opening the door.
❖☆———————————★❖
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MC: Hello everyone, I'm—
Thunk!
The sound of metal heavily hitting the floor cut my words short as the handle of the door completely fell off.
MC: !?
Did I break it? No way! I broke the office's door on my first day here!?
I didn't quite know what to do for a while. One of the figures closest to the door turned slightly around at the noise.
He had a head full of spiky hair, like that of a hedgehog. He didn't spare even a glance at the door handle; instead, his gaze fell directly upon my person. He shot up from the seat of his workstation.
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??: Yoooooou!!
MC: Sorry! It wasn't on purpose, I swear!
??: You're the newcomer that's supposed to be coming in today, right? Sister Zheng Lin, we've got an extra hand!
He excitedly yelled at the other end of the office.
This isn't quite turning out like how I imagined it to be...
Summoned by his yell, a plump woman speed-walked towards us. Her smile was friendly, but there was a sort of unconcealable exhaustion marring her features.
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Zheng Lin: Hello. Welcome to Team A. I'm the leader, Zheng Lin.
MC: Hello. Um… I accidentally broke your door handle just now… Sorry…
??: Aw, that thing's been dead half a month ago. We just didn't have time to call someone down to fix it. Don't mind it, yeah?
??: C'mere. I'll bring you to your workstation. Your stuff looks pretty heavy. I'll take it for you, yeah?
He enthusiastically takes the office appliances I'd brought in from my hands and continues walking straight ahead.
Zheng Lin: That works too. I'll leave you to bring her around to meet the others then, Brother Mao. I'll come over once I'm finished up here.
I nodded, following after "Brother Mao".
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Brother Mao: I'm Mao Ge, but you can call me Brother Mao! The best rock singer among all Designers here!
He grinned, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit. He then magicked out a rag from god-knows-where and quickly gave the table a wipedown.
Brother Mao: You were 2nd place in the contest, right? We all watched the broadcast; it was absolutely brilliant.
Brother Mao: Especially when you chose Director Qi of all people. Boy, that was a killer! How did you dare to pick him?
Brother Mao: Forget his face, even his breath alone is an icy sub-zero.
Brother Mao: Ever seen an iron tree bloom? I'd say even that's slightly more common than seeing Director Qi smile.
Brother Mao: I'm not talking about his cold smiles, of course. We see that way too often.
MC: Eh? … I just thought getting him to review my work was a rare chance that I couldn't pass up on.
Brother Mao: You go, girl! Looks like we've finally got a competent person in Team A! Feel free to ask me anything if you face any problems in the future! I've gotcha covered!
He grinned, patting himself on the chest to further emphasize his point. He'd already assembled and laid out all of my office appliances on the table at some point in our conversation.
Brother Mao: Alright, everyone! Put everything down. Let me introduce to you our new buddy, (Y/n)!
All the people around me nodded in greeting as Brother Mao introduced them to me one-by-one.
Brother Mao: The one dressed in a Cheongsam is Li Man'man. She came here a minute earlier than you and braved through 3 interviews just to enter Warson.
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Li Man'man: Hi, nice to meet you.
Brother Mao: And that's Chen Che, our team's tailoring genius. He's been here for nearly 4 years and has just been promoted to a Senior Designer.
The guy named Chen Che raised his head from the multitude of fabric surrounding him. He adjusted his glasses and gave me a wary look.
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Chen Che: Hello.
It was at this moment in time that a guy sporting a quiff hairdo walked past us. His head was haughtily raised and his expression was one of utter disdain.
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Man With Quiff Hairstyle: Hmph.
MC: And he is…?
Brother Mao: Don't mind him. He's an annoyance. He just failed the promotion test and is being the green-eyed monster to everyone right now.
I only nodded, not knowing what to say.
Brother Mao: That one over there's Hao Shuai, the trendsetter of Team A and also the King of Werewolf games.
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Hao Shuai: Wanna play Werewolf? I'll host one next time, but not now...
Hao Shuai buried his face with a sullen expression as Brother Mao quietly pulled me aside to a corner.
Brother Mao: He's not been in too jolly of a mood these few days. He didn't manage to get promoted to Senior Designer, so he's been pretty depressed about it.
MC: Sounds like it's very hard to get promoted up a rank...
Brother Mao: Precisely! Although Warson has a rank promotion system in place, the way things are being assessed in them makes it scarily hard! People normally have to do it five or six times before they manage to get themselves promoted.
Brother Mao: And, you might even get demoted a rank if the work you turn in doesn't make the cut!
MC: That strict!?
Brother Mao: I'm a Junior Designer like you. I've already taken the assessment around…
Zheng Lin: 10 times.
Brother Mao: You remember all so well, Sister Zheng Lin.
He gallantly retrieved another chair for Zheng Lin to sit on, seemingly paying no heed to the embarrassing number of tries he'd gone through.
Brother Mao: Don't they say that failure's the mother of success? I just have to get a couple more of those and it'll net me a great success!
I laughed at his joke along with Zheng Lin.
Zheng Lin: Our assessment system is just stricter than others.
Zheng Lin: Even though everyone is free to design whatever they like with their creativity as the limit, becoming an actual Fashion Designer is some serious business.
Zheng Lin: Those capable of joining us here in Warson are all talented individuals. Hence, what's really being tested in those assessments are your passion and perseverance.
Zheng Lin: I've welcomed hundreds upon hundreds of rookies during my 10 years here in Team A, but most of them drop out after failing the assessment 3-4 times.
MC: Eh?
Zheng Lin: Firstly, everyone who first comes here holds high self-esteem, so they're a bit more sensitive to criticism. And it is only natural for people to find it unbearable, especially after having been criticized a lot.
Zheng Lin: Secondly, there's a limit to the type of jobs that can be given to Assistants and Junior Designers, so things often end up being boring and repetitive
Zheng Lin: It's hard to go on like that if you don't have the right sort of determination.
MC: ……
Zheng Lin was about to say more when the door slammed open with a "bang!". Several people stood at the entrance, worry written all over their anxious faces.
Colleague A: Can someone consolidate all of Sliver's Autumn-Winter fabrics into a document?
Colleague A: I still have to go down to the mall and conduct surveys and research so I won't be able to do that in time!
Colleague B: Some trouble cropped up regarding the visas of the foreign models who're slated for a shoot next week, so we need another 18 new ones!
Colleague B: What should I do, Sister Zheng Lin!?
Zheng Lin gave a helpless sigh.
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Zheng Lin: I'd originally wanted you to let you get used to things around here, but we have our hands full… Do you mind helping us?
MC: … Sure thing!
Zheng Lin: Then, could you first help us by going to the warehouse and picking up Silver's Autumn-Winter fabrics and consolidating them into a sample book after?
Zheng Lin: You can get Brother Mao to help you check it through once you're done.
I nodded and joined the fray.
Time went by. And finally, I finished my very first task after an hour. Brother Mao told me to take it up to the Team A representative who was in the meeting after checking through it.
❖☆———————————★❖
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It was clearly noon soon, yet the doors of the meeting rooms on both sides of the corridor were still tightly shut, I could occasionally hear the sound of loud discussions coming from within.
❖☆———————————★❖
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MC: Excuse me, I'm here to deliver the fabric samples.
Pushing the door open, I saw a Designer who was in the middle of loudly explaining his idea while Sariel held a pen, looking down at the document in his hand.
All the other Designers were either listening intently or hurriedly sketching out their new ideas, having been struck by a sudden wave of inspiration. It was almost as if the very air itself was crackling with ideas, going head to head with each other, gathering and merging into a brand new storm of ideas.
I’m going to be taking part in meetings with everyone in the future too… I couldn’t help but jump for joy at the exciting notion.
Placing the fabric catalogue book down, I couldn’t stop myself from taking one last glance at the meeting room before I left.
❖☆———————————★❖
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Brother Mao: Oh, right. Don't forget to retrieve the catalogue book once the meeting upstairs is done.
MC: Okay.
❖☆———————————★❖
Everyone left after the meeting ended. I picked up the scattered pieces of fabric, stacking them neatly into a pile. It was only then that I noticed a pen lying on the ground.
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The pitch-black pen was see-through, slender, and sturdy, with three gold-stamped petals at the very end.
MC: This is...
An image of Sariel wielding this pen with his head bowed in thought appeared in my mind.
MC: Is this pen his? It certainly suits that icy countenance of his...
❖☆———————————★❖
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I bent down to pick it up, but the moment my fingers brushed against it… I suddenly felt an inexplicable sharp jolt of pain piercing my head.
My heart clenched violently, almost as if a nightmare that had been buried deep within its depths was about to be awakened. The stifling feeling of sadness and despair washed over me together with the odd feeling of my heart having been impaled by something.
What’s going on?
I pressed against my chest, trying to get through this sudden bout of pain that came out of seemingly nowhere.
Sariel: What's going on here?
There seems to be a faint voice ringing through my ears. The pen was taken away from me the next moment. Gone with it were the odd sensations.
I blearily looked at Sariel who had suddenly popped up from nowhere, still slightly woozy in the head.
Sariel: What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?
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MC: I don't know what happened to me earlier…
Sariel: That's what I'd like to ask you.
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☆Light Choice: Explain what you felt earlier
I shook my head, trying to recall that odd sensation you felt earlier.
MC: I… My chest and head just suddenly started hurting.
MC: I know I’m in the meeting room right now, but it kind of felt as if I wasn’t here at the same time…
MC: Like a nightmare, you can never wake up from…
Sariel’s expression changed minuscule bit upon hearing the word “nightmare”.
Sariel: How about now?
MC: I'm fine now, and the uncomfortable feeling's also gone.
Sariel: Has this happened before?
MC: Once…?
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★Night Choice: Conceal what you felt earlier
MC: I just felt a little light-headed… I'm okay now.
MC: Oh, right. I picked up your pen.
I pointed towards the pen that he'd already reclaimed, which was now in his hand. Sariel only frowned.
Sariel: You felt light-headed after picking up this pen?
It was only when he mentioned it that I realized that that seemed to be the case. But what would a pen have anything to do with a bout of dizziness?
Sariel coldly grabs my hand, making my heart stop cold in my chest. However, all he did was stare at it in silence for a few seconds before releasing me just as quickly.
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MC: What are you looking at? Is there something wrong with my hand?
Sariel: Nothing. It's well and fine.
What's up with Sariel? Grabbing my hand out of nowhere like that and not even telling me the reason why...
So, I ended up giving my hand a thorough check as well. There was nothing off about it, but I couldn't help feeling a little worried.
I'd also experienced some "auditory hallucinations" back then at the rooftop…
MC: Maybe I should go get myself a check-up at the hospital just in case…
Sariel: You look pretty peppy on your feet to me. Doesn't seem like there's anything physically wrong about you.
His gaze smoothly slides up from my face to the top of my head as he spoke.
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Sariel: Though, I can't say the same about the other parts of you.
MC: ……!
I was fuming, yet I didn't dare to express it with a vehement glare. Seeing how riled up I was at it, yet unable to do anything about it, a flicker of a smirk made its way up to a corner of his mouth.
This was my second time seeing him smile today… The iron tree has bloomed…
Sariel: Are there flowers growing on my face?
I shook my head.
Sariel: A ghost then?
I shook my head again.
Sariel: Then why are you looking at me as if you've just seen a monster?
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MC: You just smiled. It's too rare of a sight.
Sariel: … How stupid.
He put on a straight face as he pocketed his pen and turned to head out.
Suddenly remembering something, I hurriedly pushed the door open and ran after him.
MC: Wait a minute, Director Qi! Are you free right now?
❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖
Previous Part: (Chapter 2-3) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)
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quinncupine · 3 years
Text
The Stars Above
word count: 1,564
link: A03
Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Reader
Summary:  The sky was clear and the first stars were starting to blink into existence. It was weird staring up at the stars from this side of the world. There weren’t that many of them, not as many as you were used to.
"You ever just...look up?"
Quinns Masterlist!
....
You had gone outside to get some fresh air, but really it was because you didn't want anyone to see your downtrodden mood and ruin the evening. Class 1-A had decided to host a fun game night, and it was until you were painfully reminded that you haven't seen your family in almost a year. Being a foreign transfer student was already hard, but you were close with your family and you'd never spent so long away from them before. 
The night air has a bit of a bite to it, so you curl your knees up to your chest and huddle underneath your oversized sweater. Honestly, it's probably a bit childish looking, but you are alone outside and you really don't care.
The sky is clear and the first stars are starting to blink into existence. It's weird staring up at the stars from this side of the world. There aren't that many of them, not as many as you were used to. You grew up in a rural area, where on good nights like these, there would be too many to count. It reminds you of one night when your dad had-
"L/N?" A soft voice pulls you from your thoughts.
You jump, quickly pull your knees from your sweater, and fall backward in your haste to see who has snuck up on you.
"Oh," you breathe and stare at him upside-down. "Midoriya, you scared me."
"I'm so sorry!" He waves his hands around. "I didn't mean to disturb you. You've just been outside for a while and when you left, you looked kinda down, and I just wanted to check and make sure you were uh, but I-I can leave if-" He rambles on before you cut him off.
"Woah," you chuckle. "Calm down. You're not disturbing me." You rest your head on your arms behind you and look to the sky. "I was just thinking is all. Thanks for checking up on me though."
"Um, yeah." He nervously fiddles with his thumbs. "Uh, what, um, what are you thinking about?"
"My family." You sigh. "I haven't seen them in a long time."
"Oh, sorry."
"You apologize a lot." You glance back at him with a soft smirk and pat the spot beside you. "Wanna sit?"
His feet almost trip over themselves as he sits next to you, keenly aware of how close you are. The night is quiet outside, the complete opposite from the ruckus happening inside, and you both relax in the calming silence. Well, relax might've been too strong a word. Izuku was finding it very hard to stay calm when you were right there with the faint scent of your perfume flowing over him.
"You ever just...look up?" You murmur, fixing your gaze on the brightest star in the sky.
"Look up?" He mirrors your action.
"Yeah, you know, just watch." You pull your focus to him. "I used to do that a lot with my dad. We would just sit outside all night long and make up silly stories about all the constellations we didn't know. Like Freddy the Baboon over there-" you point up, but falter. The stars aren't visible enough to see the full constellations. "Hmm, I guess you can't see it here, too many lights."
A small frown etches across your face as you sit up to curl your knees back to your chest and rest your chin on them. Your finger scratches little circles on one knee. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea; looking at the pitiful amount of stars only further digs in the fact that this wasn't home. Of course, you loved being here learning at one of the top hero schools, meeting great friends, but it just wasn't home.
"Uh," you clear your throat. "We should probably go back in."
You stand, dust off your pants, and adjust your now stretched out sweater. Izuku gets up too, but when you turn to head for the door, he develops a sudden bout of courage and grabs your arm.
"Hey L/N?" His hand is warm and gentle on your arm, but he must have caught you staring at it and quickly tears it away. "Maybe you'd wanna, um..." The sudden burst of confidence is quickly draining. "Uh, well, I was thinking, if you'd want...we could...you know, look up again...sometime...together?" He nearly squeaks out the last few words.
He looks so frazzled that you can't help the soft giggle that escapes your lips, only serving to redden his face more.
"I'd like that." In your own burst of confidence, you lean in and lightly kiss his cheek. "I'd really like that."
The poor boy short-circuits. His fingers brush over the spot on his burning cheeks in awe. He just stares at you, mouth agape, like he just saw a galaxy in full view for the first time.
"Come on, we're missing all the fun." You grab his hand and pull him along, except that he doesn't budge. You fear you may have broken him. "I'm sorry, I probably should've asked before I did that."
"No!" He feverishly shakes his head and steps quite close. "That was-I'm-It's-I" He can't seem to find the right words so he just grabs your face with that same determined look he always makes when training, and just goes for it.
His lips are soft as they crash into yours in an almost desperate manner. It shocks you for a second before you melt into the kiss. He's a bit shaky and inexperienced, and you can't help the smile that finally breaks you apart. It only lasted a few seconds, but you still find yourself trying to catch your breath.
He blinks, beet red, eyes wide, and takes a step back before you gently place a hand on his arm. You open your mouth to say something, but your brain is too flustered to come up with any words.
"Uh, I'm sorry, I just-" you cut him off with a kiss of your own.
His hands come up to cup your face and you finally understand just how fast of a learner he is. You wrap your arms around your neck to pull him closer to you when the front door bursts open and the two of you jump apart faster than lightning.
It's Mina. "There you guys are." She waves at you, none the wiser. "Come on, we're about to start the next game, it's..." She glances between the two of you, finally aware she might've interrupted something. "Uh, but take you're time, it'll take a while to get everyone rounded up anyway." She winks at you as she backs away and disappears inside with a giddy grin.
You peek at Izuku, sure that your face was just as red as his. He rubs his neck and offers his hand, which you gladly accept. He can't help the All Might sized smile that spreads across his face. On your way up the stairs, you catch a glimpse of a shooting star flash through the sky. It seems things are finally starting to look up.
BONUS:
"Izuku?" You rush down the hallway when you see him standing outside his door. "What's the emergency? Are you alright?"
"What?" He cocks his head. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to show you something."
"Okay, well next time, when you send an S.O.S., it better be an S.O.S." You playfully punch his arm. "So what is it?"
"It's in here." He opens the door.
The room is completely dark, even though the sun has yet to dip under the horizon. The windows must have been blacked out. He extends his arm and waits for you to walk in first. You raise a brow but step inside anyway. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you in pitch black.
"Uh, Izuku?" You feel around for him.
"Look up." He simply says.
You do and that's when a million little lights flicker to life across the ceiling. It looked like he'd somehow captured the entire night sky and smuggled it into his room. You gape at the colorful sight and step further in, twirling around. There must have been a fog machine hidden somewhere because the sky seemed to swirl above you in a mesmerizing wave.
"How did-"
"I wanted you to feel at home." He rubs the back of his neck with a shy smile. "Where you could see all the stars."
"And more." You murmur. "Izuku, this, this is amazing. How on earth did you do this?"
"Aoyama and Yaoyorozu helped. Do you like it?" He shifts from foot to foot, not quite confident enough to look up at you.
"Do I like it?" You stretched your fingers out above you, finding all the constellations. It was a perfect re-creation of the night sky you remembered, but more vibrant and a lot more cozier. "This is absolutely stunning." Your eyes land on him and you hold out your hand. "I can't believe you did this for me."
He eagerly takes your hand and you pull him close, leaning into his chest. The blush that burns across his face is masked by the darkness, for which he is grateful.
"So," he looks up. "What's the story with Freddy the Baboon?"
271 notes · View notes
amarimaryllis · 3 years
Text
I Never Writ, Nor No Man Ever Loved (Ushijima x Reader)
Pairing: Ushijima/Reader
Prompt/Summary: Shakespeare wasn’t wrong, you’re just afraid of admitting the truth. Alternatively, Ushijima Wakatoshi’s first love never died.
Tags: Angst, Haikyuu Timeskip Spoilers
Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, You might wanna reread the ending of “All The World Drops Dead”, I gave Ushijima’s mom a name, Ushijima’s a rich boi, Bold Italicized sentences are excerpts from the poem “Sonnet 116” by William Shakespeare
Warnings: Swearing, Heavy read, Author doesn’t know how off-seasons work, Mentions of separation
Part of A Sensitivity to Ephemera
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Ushijima Wakatoshi was your antithesis, in a sense, and somewhere in the sky, Cupid laughs.
Way to go for putting the most incompatible people ever, am I right?
You found beauty in the temperance of words. Enjoyed their sheer ability to paint a hundred stories with only strokes and letters. Words meant everything and nothing all at once, and snippets of different stories appeared with each changing context. Ushijima, on the other hand, found beauty in the directness of words. Observed in the brutal honesty that constantly leaves his lips. He preferred to have it all laid bare, no hidden meaning, no ulterior motive. What you see is what you get.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love—
It was with words that you two ever even met, back in your first year at Shiratorizawa. Ushijima was not the best at literature, or any subject aside from Physical Education, and you were the panacea that the concerned teachers had offered as a remedy for the ace. It was a rocky start, but eventually, the relationship had grown into something more.
A literary genius and an athletic prodigy.
A master of language and her stumbling apprentice.
And eventually, a poet and her muse.
You never thought it would work out, but somehow, it did. And you were thankful that it did because you wouldn’t be where you are today. Standing in front of a large window overlooking the city, reminiscing on the events that led you to your present reality.
—Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
Ushijima comes up from behind you and grips your hips with his large hands before he presses a tender kiss on your nape. “What’s on your mind?”
You smile as you turn around in his grasp to wrap your arms around his neck. “Nothing much.”
Ushijima raises a brow as he moves his hands from your hips to your waist. “By nothing, I’m guessing you mean anything and everything.”
You grin as the two of you begin to sway to the silence. Dancing to nothing but the sound of your breaths and the noise from the city below. “You know me too well.”
“You haven’t changed a bit.” Ushijima smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss.
You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms tighter around Ushijima’s neck to pull him closer to you. The telltale signs of lovesickness had been set in motion in your body once more: warming cheeks, speeding heartbeats, and crashing lips.
As you find yourself pulled deeper into Ushijima’s embrace, you wish for the world to freeze this moment. Unmoving. Unchanging. Immortalized in your memory and for the rest of your waking reality.
A few days after your engagement with Ushijima, you found yourself in the place where it all started. Shiratorizawa had not changed at all since you left. Sure, the notices hung on the wall, the faces that roamed the rooms, and the shape of the shrubbery had changed, but everything else was the same as you remember it.
You shut your eyes, take a deep breath, and it’s almost as if you’re transported back to 2012. A year of loss, victory, stagnancy, and change. So many had happened, and it all rushed past you in the blink of an eye.
“Love—“
“Yes!” You stand up straight from the bench, eyes wide open in an attempt to pull away from your little flashback. “Yes, hi. Sorry, Toshi, I was… Lost in thought. Are you done talking to Washijo-sensei?”
“Yes.” Ushijima chuckles softly as he flicks your forehead lightly. “You should be more observant of your surroundings. What if it wasn’t me who found you?”
“But you did, didn’t you?” You grin up at him only to see him looking ahead.
You turn around and your eyes land upon a familiar sight.
Warmth floods your cheeks and Ushijima laughs as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “I remember Tendou catching us there.”
You smile fondly at the memory as you look at the tree beside the volleyball gym. “Not my fault you kissed me all of a sudden.”
“Not my fault you look absolutely irresistible.” Ushijima’s warm breath tickles you as he leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear, placing a quick kiss before he lays his chin back onto the top of your head.
O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
Ushijima Kimiko’s eyes were burning holes into your skull. It was clear from the moment you had stepped into the house that you were not welcome. That you were not the one she wanted for her son.
There’s bitterness in the way she looks, the way she acts, and the way she speaks. She’s eloquent, so well-spoken that you wouldn’t have noticed the insinuation of each backhanded compliment she threw your way. Her son seemed to be oblivious to the silent war of undertones and context buried underneath your exchange of seemingly harmless words. It had gone on for the entirety of dinner, his mother unforgiving and you unrelenting. If she thought her disapproval would send you running, then she was sorely mistaken.
After dinner, Ushijima leads you to his room. A place you had not acquainted yourself with because this was the first time Ushijima had brought you into his home. Your lover sits on the bed, watching you while you familiarize yourself with the setting.
“So this is where you grew up.” You smile to yourself, choosing to bury the events that transpired earlier into the darkest corners of your mind in hopes that it would be consumed into the void. “Nice room.”
Your eyes trace over every inch of the room, taking in what you can to better understand the man that you were soon going to marry. It’s plain, nothing revealing anything personal save for the pictures lined up and hung on the wall.
There were many different faces. A young girl, a few boys, some familiar, some unknown. There were also pictures of some teenagers, particularly the members of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club.
“Is something bothering you, love?” Ushijima asks from his bed where he’s currently seated. “You haven’t been talking much since dinner.”
You froze on the spot, having an internal debate on whether or not you should voice your concerns.
“Come here.” Ushijima beckons you to come closer and you do. You stand between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders as you continue to look at the pictures behind him. Ushijima reaches for your hand on his shoulder, intertwining your hands there as he plays with the ring on your finger. “Something’s wrong.”
“Toshi…” You sigh, giving in. “I don’t think your mom likes me very much.”
It’s Ushijima’s turn to tense up. “My mom doesn’t like anyone.”
“Yeah well… I think she hates me.” You fiddle with Ushijima’s collar. “God, I hope not. I really wanted her to like me too…”
“In time.” Ushijima smiles as he pulls at your hand to make you cup his cheek. “But for now, let’s talk about it at home.”
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Ushijima sits alone on the couch, waiting for you to come back. You had left after a heated exchange, unable to stand being in the same room as him, it seems. A few weeks had passed since your visit to his childhood home, and things in your relationship have been somewhat rocky since then. While Ushijima wanted his family to accept you, he knew that their disapproval wouldn’t stop him from pursuing a life with you. You were the person who stood by his side when nobody else was there. The world would have to end before he let you go.
But you didn’t understand that. You were still stuck in the events that transpired at the dinner table while Ushijima was already walking towards your future. He knew he shouldn’t have invalidated your concern simply because he could stomach going against his mother. He just wanted this argument to end, he had an Olympic game tomorrow, and he didn’t want to walk in there with a heavy heart that would most definitely affect his performance.
The ringing of the doorbell pulls Ushijima from his thoughts. He stands up and walks towards the door to answer it, wondering who it could be since he did not remember inviting anyone.
When he opens the door, it is not noticeable, but there is shock written on his face. “Sato-san, what brings you here?”
“Ah, Waka-kun! Your mom told me I’d be able to find you here.” Sato pushes a paper bag into Ushijima’s hands, her eyes disappearing into lines as she gives him a bright smile. “I just got back from Cali, and I wanted to give you your souvenir and some ingredients from Kimiko-san…”
“Ah, thank you.” Ushijima gives a soft smile as he grips the paper bag tighter in his arms. He knew that his mother was in the area, visiting so that she could watch her son’s game tomorrow. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?”
“Ah no! It’s fine.” Sato waves her hands, smiling as she turns the offer down. “I have to go meet up with a friend.”
“Ok then.” Ushijima nods. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“Same here.” Sato moves to walk off. “I’ll be off then.”
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
With his bending sickle’s compass come...
When you come back home, Ushijima is quick to pull you into his arms. A string of apologies falls from his lips, weaving their way into your hearts as you melt into your fiancé’s embrace. The walk had cleared your mind enough, and you knew that Ushijima had a point. If he was willing to brave it out despite his mother’s disapproval, then you would do so as well.
After all had been said, and the issue was closed, you both retired for the night. Ushijima lays on his side of the bed, and you on yours. You turn to your side and are met by Ushijima’s broad back. Scooching closer, you wrap your arms around him, press a kiss onto his nape, and mumble, “I love you.”
You wait a few seconds for a reply, but you are met with silence. You sighed and wrapped your arms tighter around him, nuzzling your face between his shoulder blades. He was probably asleep.
Ushijima was wide awake. Memories of a young girl with bright eyes and rosy cheeks running through his mind. And as he loses himself to vivid images of the past, sleep never laid itself upon his eyes that night.
The next day, you make Hayashi rice from the ingredients that his friend had delivered, and you wish him luck.
Apparently, that luck wasn’t enough because the Japan team had lost to Argentina that day, and as much as you wanted to comfort Ushijima, his mother had gotten to him first and was now talking to him inside the stadium.
You waited outside of the venue, sitting on the steps that led up to the doors that opened to the realm of competition and Olympic athletes. You could only wait it out, not wanting to bother your fiancé and his mother in fear that the latter might attack your very being once more.
The sound of footsteps comes closer, and you turn around quickly in hopes to see your lover, but you are met with the sight of their trainer instead.
“Oh, Iwaizumi-san!” You stand up to bow. You notice the red at the corners of his eyes as if he had been crying. You don’t ask. It was normal to be upset after a loss. “You guys fought well, Iwaizumi-san.”
Iwaizumi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He moves to sit beside you on the steps, and you follow suit. “Hey, L/N-san…”
“Hm?” You reply with a hum. While Iwaizumi and you were not close, you two were still familiar enough with each other to carry a casual conversation. “What is it?”
“You’re a writer.” Iwaizumi states, but there is hesitance in his tone.
You can’t help but snort. “No shit.”
Iwaizumi glares at you, and you suppress a laugh. “Ok, I’ll stop, but yeah, I am. Why?”
“That means you’re good at the poetic symbolism shit right?” Iwaizumi asks for confirmation and you resist the urge to laugh at his choice of words.
“I like to think that I am good at the—“ You use your hands to show air quotes, “—poetic symbolism shit as you said.”
“Does first love never really die?” Iwaizumi asks and you nearly choke on air.
Iwaizumi is looking at you expectantly, and you look like a deer caught in the headlights. Out of all the things that could happen in your life, talking to Iwaizumi Hajime about his love life was not something you even thought of ever happening. Not even a single bit. It’s silent, and you realize that Iwaizumi is waiting for a reply.
You pause to think, not wanting to give Iwaizumi a half-assed answer that could make whatever he was going through worse. It seemed like Iwaizumi was more hung up over this than he was over the game they just lost, and while you don’t know the full story, you realize its gravity. “It’s something people like to say… Haven’t quite understood it because I’ve never felt it…”
You smile sadly. It seems like Iwaizumi wasn’t given the similar luxury of living out the rest of his life with his first love. “First love never dies, but true love will bury it alive.”
“And what if your first love is your true love?” Iwaizumi asks, his fists clenching as he looks down at the steps.
“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning a lifetime that was never meant to be yours.” You sigh as you pat Iwaizumi in the back. “You never really know if it’s true love, Iwaizumi-san. Tomorrow promises nothing, after all. The only time you’ll ever truly know is when you’re a breath away from death and reliving your entire life.”
“Fucking hell.” Iwaizumi mumbles to himself. “Love is hard.”
“It is.” You smile. “But whatever the situation, Iwa-san… Don’t deprive yourself of the opportunity to move on, yeah? It’s kind of like volleyball.”
Iwaizumi turns to look at you. “How so?”
“Well, when you get blocked during games, do you stop spiking for the rest of the game?” You raise a brow.
It’s silent until suddenly, it’s not. Iwaizumi is laughing. He’s standing up, and he pulls you up before enveloping you in a hug. “You genius, I hate that you have a point.”
You reach around to pat his back, happy that your words somehow enlightened him. You knew that this enlightenment was brief and that somewhere along the way, Iwaizumi would be tempted to give up, but you were glad to have at least given him a way out. “As I said, I’m good at the poetic symbolism shit.”
A cough interrupts your little hug session with Iwaizumi, leading to the both of you pulling away and turning to the source of the noise.
It seems like the universe just loved screwing you over because standing at the top of the steps were three people: two familiar faces, and one that was teetering between remembrance and oblivion.
Ushijima Kimiko looked smugly angry. Her son looked confused, tinges of betrayal creeping into his eyes. The young woman beside them on the other hand looked absolutely livid as her eyes flitted between you and Iwaizumi.
“How scandalous.” You could hear Ushijima Kimiko whisper to her son. “Are you sure this is the woman you want to marry?”
You pretend you don’t hear it, forcing a smile and a bow. “It’s nice to see you again, Ushijima-san.”
Iwaizumi on the other hand does not let the comment pass. “There’s nothing scandalous about the situation, Ushijima-san. I simply asked my friend for advice and showed my appreciation. She loves your son too much to ever even think of looking at other people.”
You notice how the stances of Ushijima and the young woman relax.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ushijima Kimiko’s smile is tightly lipped.
The drive to Ushijima’s penthouse was silent and absolutely tense. Ushijima’s knuckles were practically white with how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. You can see the creases between his brows deepening as he clenches his jaw in both frustration and concentration.
“Who was the girl from a while ago? She looked familiar.” It was a seemingly harmless question on your end. You didn’t want to talk about the game because they did lose. You didn’t want to bring up his mother because that would be another argument. You didn’t want to talk about Iwaizumi because you figured that maybe the hug you shared was the reason for his frustration. So you decided to settle with the one thing in that situation that had no heavy feelings attached.
Well, you were sorely mistaken.
Ushijima tenses up before he relaxes. “She’s my childhood friend. She used to be my closest friend until middle school.”
“Ah.” You nod to yourself. “Cool.”
“She means nothing to me now, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ushijima quickly added.
“Ooooh, did little Toshi have a crush on her?” You tease, trying to use this opportunity to lighten the mood.
Ushijima tenses up before a fond smile makes its way to his face for the first time since this morning. “She was there for me throughout my childhood. She helped me get through my parent’s separation.”
You didn’t know why, but you finally realized why she looked familiar. It was minimal, very minimal… But there was a large similarity between her facial and body structure and yours. And as you realize this, the conversation you had with Iwaizumi echoes disturbingly through your head.
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Although they had been given a month-long break after the game, Ushijima was still out most of the time. Some part of you was bitter over the fact that your fiancé chose to spend more time spiking balls and playing with his teammates (that he already plays with on a regular basis), but you don’t pressure him to stay. If that made him happy, then you were happy with it as well. But still, some part of you wishes that he would just stay in with you and cuddle while you type your next piece on the laptop.
Later that night, Ushijima comes home with his arm slung around Kageyama who looked like he had just walked through hell and back. There’s a dopey grin on his face as he reaches out for you and crashes his body against yours. The smell of alcohol fills your nostrils, and you scrunch your nose up in disgust.
“Please take care of Ushijima-san.” The setter bows lightly before straightening up.
“Thank you for bringing him home.” You smile at Kageyama who blushes a deep red.
“I’ll take my leave.” Kageyama bows and walks off.
You shut the door once you see that Kageyama has made it to the elevator.
“You’re so pretty…” Ushijima’s grin is wide as he cups your cheeks. Nuzzling his nose against yours before peppering kisses all over your face. “Can’t believe you’re here…”
Ushijima presses you against the door and leans down to capture your mouth into his. He presses against you, grabbing at your wrists to wrap your arms around his neck as he pushes his mouth harder against yours. There’s desperation in the way he digs his fingers into your hips as he lifts you and pulls at your legs to wrap it around his waist.
“I love you so much…” Ushijima whispers between kisses as he nips at your neck. “Don’t ever leave me again… Fuck.”
Ushijima’s hand creeps under your shirt, trailing on your skin while his other hand supports you against the door. As good as it felt to be finally receiving attention from your lover, you grab at his wrist to stop him. “Toshi, you’re drunk. Let’s go to bed first, yeah?”
“What happened to Waka-kun?” There’s a pout on Ushijima’s face, and you would find it endearing if you weren’t confused by the words that left his mouth.
Choosing to chalk it up to his drunken stupor, you just smile, unwrap your legs from his waist and bring him to bed. “You need to sleep.”
Once you two were settled in bed, Ushijima nuzzled himself into your neck as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, positioning himself to prepare for sleep.
His breath tickles your neck as he mumbles, “Don’t ever leave me, please.”
“I won’t.” You smile as you sink deeper into his embrace. “I love you too much to do that.”
“You love me?” Ushijima was a talkative, sappy kind of drunk, it seems. “Really?”
“Very much.” You mumble as you intertwine your fingers with his.
“You’ll stay with me forever, right?” Ushijima’s voice is weak, almost as if he was afraid of what your answer could be.
“Of course.” You answer without a second thought.
You can feel Ushijima kiss your neck before his breathing starts to slow. It’s a whisper, the way he says it, lips brushing as he lightly mouths the words into your skin, but you hear it clear as day.
“I love you, Fuyumi-chan…”
If this be error and upon me prov’d,
You stare blankly at the Instagram profile on your laptop screen, your hands on the table as you focus all your emotions into clenching them as tight as possible. The apartment is quiet, but the noise in your head is a different story. Voices, faces, and emotions flood your brain, each wave stronger than the last as it threatens to drown you into the void of your head. You briefly wonder where it all went wrong.
When Ushijima decided to get drunk? No, it wasn’t.
When Iwaizumi hugged you after their loss at the Olympics? No… It wasn’t that either.
Maybe when you had visited Ushijima’s childhood home? No. Although it seemed like it went downhill from there… It wasn’t that.
It all went wrong the moment you allowed yourself to fall in love with Ushijima Wakatoshi.
“Good morning.” Ushijima smiles as he sits across from you on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.
You force a smile. “Slept well?”
Ushijima freezes for a split second before recovering. “Had a good dream.”
“Good for you.” You don’t know how much longer you can pretend like your relationship wasn’t falling apart. “About the wedding—“
“We’re having it in 2 months right?” Ushijima interrupts you, and for some reason, it looks like he’s trying to avoid something. “I’m still on vacation, so I’ll be able to help you and the coordinator plan it—“
“Let’s call it off.” You interrupt with a smile.
“Do you want to move it to a later date?” Ushijima furrows his brows as he reaches over, grabbing your left hand, his heart sinking when his thumb brushes over skin instead of silver on your finger. “Where’s your ring?”
“Wakatoshi,” You start with a smile, your voice as steady as it could be while a war rages in your head, “I don’t want to get married anymore.”
For someone who understood words best when they were said directly, Ushijima Wakatoshi was having a lot of trouble understanding you right now.
Ushijima’s frown deepens, but he continues to speak casually. “That’s fine. We don’t have to be married to love each other, right? That’s just a formal ceremony—“
“I’m leaving, Wakatoshi.” You attempt to pull your hand away from his grasp, but Ushijima holds it tighter.
There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re almost tempted to stay. Ushijima crying was not a common sight. You had only seen it happen once in the entirety of your relationship, and your heart breaks at that thought.
“When will you come back?” His voice is desperate as he looks into your eyes, searching for any sign indicating that you’ll stay. He finds none.
You can only smile. “I’m sorry.”
You stand up and shut your laptop, walking off to your room to pack your things. You didn’t want to make this harder than it had to be. You didn’t want to see him cry, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. If this was love then it seems that Shakespeare was wrong, or maybe what you have isn’t love. But if it isn’t love, then why did every single step away from Ushijima’s crying figure feel heavier and more painful than the last? Why did you yearn for him despite the stabbing in your chest?
When Ushijima hears the door of your shared bedroom close, he opens your laptop, wondering if he’ll find an answer there.
And he did.
Sato Fuyumi’s unmoving face stares back at him, a smile etched onto her face as the sun shines brightly behind her. At that moment, Ushijima understood. Last night was no dream, it seems, but he had blurred the lines between fantasy and reality and that led to the inevitable decay of whatever it was that you two had. With that, Ushijima stood up and walked to your shared room, one last time.
“I’m sorry.” Ushijima states from the doorway. He expected you to be packing your things, but he didn’t expect that seeing it would hurt this much. It was almost as if you were ripping his chest open with each clothing you pulled from your shared cabinet.
“I know.” You whisper, unable to trust your voice.
There’s silence as Ushijima sits beside you on the floor.
“Toshi...” The name feels heavy in your mouth as you speak. “Did you—“
A sob somehow manages to break free, and now you were crying.
Ushijima pulls you into his chest, guilt and despair filling his chest as he feels you sob and shake in his hold. He wishes he could make it all go away, but how could he when he was the reason you’re this way in the first place?
“Please tell me the truth…” You grip at his shirt, your forehead pressed onto his collarbone as you let the tears fall one after the other. “Did you… Did you ever love me?”
Ushijima answers with no hesitation. “I did.”
You cry harder into his chest as you mourn the lifetime that could’ve been yours. Images of a distant life fill your head: a home in the countryside, a young boy, a young girl, a loving husband. You allow yourself to bask in the illusion for a second before you pull yourself away. You were afraid that if you had stayed any longer, you’d never be able to walk away.
“We can make it work, Y/N.” Ushijima pleads one last time. “This is just something we have to work through. We’ll get past this and then we’ll live the rest of our lives together. We’ll go to the countryside when I retire, raise our kids there—“
You cut him off. “Stop.”
“You could write from there. It’s peaceful, no one will disturb—“
You cry harder into his chest, gripping tighter at his shirt. “Stop please, just stop already—“
“We can still make it work, Y/N. Just stay—“
“Just stop!” You pull away, daring to look into Ushijima’s eyes. “It’s never going to work. We would be living a lie if I agreed to all of that. It’s clear that you’re still in love with her, and you always will be!”
Ushijima’s shoulders slump down in defeat, and he lets you cry it all in front of him.
“And what if your first love is your true love?” Iwaizumi asks, his fists clenching as he looks down at the steps.
“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning a lifetime that was never meant to be yours.”
Your own words haunt you.
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
You realize it now, looking back.
Years of denying the poet only for you to agree with him in the end. It took you 3 years, but now, you were ready to admit that Shakespeare was right in all he said about love. Everything around you was just pointing in a different direction, you just didn’t realize it when you were still in the middle of it all.
It was a mess you no longer wanted to revisit, but you brave through it for your friend.
You watch the love of your life mourn a lifetime that could’ve been his.
Ushijima Wakatoshi watches as the love of his life goes down the aisle.
Sato Fuyumi smiles as she sees the love of her life waiting at the end of it.
Iwaizumi Hajime looks ahead one last time as the love of his life sits somewhere in the crowd.
And somewhere in the sky, Cupid laughs.
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A/N: I feel like this should be classified under “Angst/No One Gets A Happy Ending”. Also, I finally gave Iwa some closure AHHHHH I hope you guys liked this one! Feel free to drop my by ask, I’m always up for a discussion, after all. 💖
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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years
Text
Standards of Performance, Chapter 10: Accommodations
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From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter
AO3 Link
Thank you guys again for being so kind about the new posting schedule (or lack thereof). Your comments and messages and rbs always make me laugh and cry (in a a good way).This is just a lil chapter about them being awkward and cute after The Kiss, and introducing some bigger plot stuff. You'll wanna buckle up for the next one ;)
Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?
Chapter Summary: Some creep is stalking the team and all you can think about is kissing Hotch. 
Words: 2059
Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.
Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You
The BAU had a stalker.
To put it in a way more relevant to your views on the matter: the BAU’s stalker was interfering with the (hopefully) budding spark between you and Hotch.
It wasn’t that you didn’t care that there was potentially unhinged maniac apparently obsessed with the team, it’s just that when you got the slightly panicked phone call from JJ that Morgan, Reid, Garcia, and herself had all found letters on their doorstep professing an alarming fascination with the members of the team, you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated that the ordeal was bound to put a pause on the progress you two had made.
That is, until you went to leave your apartment in the morning and found an unassuming envelope shoved under the door. You opened it with shaking fingers to a note written on thick cardstock, scrawled in black, seeping ink as if written by an old-fashioned quill.
I’ve been paying attention to your team for some time - quite the impact you’ve made on the world of crime. The heroes of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit! I’m sure the world wishes they had you during Bundy or BTK, hm?
Anyways, I had to see for myself. I must admit, finding you was much easier than I would have anticipated given your ‘status.’ I thought I’d drop you this note to say hi and propose a deal. A Game, of sorts.
The Game goes like this: I leave you notes, and you try to catch me! Easy, yes? This is day 1. How many days until you find me?
Xoxo Talk soon,
G
You put the note in your bag and, after double checking your door was locked (not that the flimsy deadbolt the landlord had installed would have done much to keep an intruder out anyways), you rushed to the office. You dropped your note on the table in the conference room where the team had gathered and pointed at it tremulously. 
“I got one too. I touched it, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking -”
“Don’t worry about it,” Rossi interrupted. “We dusted the others; there was nothing. I doubt yours was any different.”
Hotch plucked your letter up and scanned it quickly before tossing it back on the table. “It’s exactly the same as the others. Nothing identifiable.”
“Why didn’t we get them?” asked Prentiss.
“Access,” said Garcia, notably less cheery than usual. The team turned to her for clarification.
“You three are hard to get to,” she explained. “Hotch and Prentiss live in secure apartment buildings. Rossi has a gated property with security that can rival the President’s. Those of us who don’t live the high life are just... out in the open.”
“So that’s encouraging, right? That the unsub either couldn’t or wouldn’t go through the extra trouble of getting to all of us?” JJ asked, hopeful.
Morgan shook his head. “I dunno if you can interpret any part of what this creep is doing to intimidate us as ‘encouraging.’”
“Does it read as intimidation, though?” mused Reid. 
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Morgan responded. “What’s your take on the language?”
Reid took a millisecond to reread the letter and pursed his lips. “Though the language isn’t directly threatening, the concept of a game implies either winning or losing. He - it’s almost certainly a he - doesn’t mention the consequences for either situation, which could imply that there are none, but that seems unlikely. There’s also the matter of separating himself from others in line three - ‘I’m sure the world wishes they had you during Bundy or BTK,’ not we. He’s trying to distinguish himself to us in some way, which means he wants to be noticed, and I don’t think there’s anything in this language that excludes the possibility of him doing something drastic in order to be.”
“So not encouraging,” said Prentiss dryly. “The question is, why us? Is this personal; did we put someone close to him away?”
“It could be, but the language in the opening seems sarcastic almost, like he’s mocking us,” noted Rossi. 
Morgan nodded in agreement. “It’s a challenge. He’s trying to tell us we’re not all we’re cracked up to be.”
The analysis worried you, because you felt you were the only member of the team for whom that statement might have been true. 
“So, what then?” you asked. “Review security footage and see if we can find anything?”
“Already did!” chirped Garcia. “Hotch had me up all night reviewing the tapes.”
For the first time, you noticed the dark circles under her standard coat of heavy makeup. You looked at Hotch, expecting to find some shame in his expression, but found none. 
“If there was anyone weird creeping around your dwellings last night, I didn’t see ‘em. I even looked through the street cameras in the area. Granted, none of you have a security camera pointed directly at your door, which might not be a bad idea after this -”
“Hold on,” Morgan interrupted, “you didn’t check her apartment though, right?” referring to you. “Cuz she just found it this morning?”
Garcia perked up, but you shot her down with a shake of your head. “Sorry guys, my place isn’t nearly nice enough to have security cameras.”
The team looked unperturbed by that, except for Hotch, who met your eyes with a look you couldn’t quite place. 
“What do we do, then? Wait for another letter?” JJ asked.
“That’s all we can do until we have more evidence,” said Hotch, visibly frustrated. He hated waiting, you knew that. You all hated it. It felt like watching a car without its parking brake on slowly start to roll down a hill.
“If that’s all, sir…”
Hotch nodded at Garcia. “You’re all dismissed. Business as usual for now. If he craves acknowledgement, best not to give it to him unless we have to.”
The team filtered out, and you made to follow them, but before making it through the doorway, Hotch called you back. He shifted feet, cleared his throat, and looked at you.
“About the comment you made earlier,” he started.
What comment? You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d said something rude, or something that hinted at what happened between you two, but came up short.
He noticed the puzzled look on your face and clarified. “When you said your apartment complex wasn’t nice enough to have security cameras. I wanted to say that -” he ran his hand across his jaw, clearly uncomfortable, “- I know the internship salary isn’t impressive, and if you feel you’re unable to afford safe accommodation, I’d be more than happy to talk to Strauss about -”
“Oh, God, no.” You felt as if your face was on fire. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, my apartment is fine - I mean of course there’s things that could be improved - but in no way do I feel unsafe.” 
“Well, good. Okay then.”
Before you could make your exit and spare you both from the residual awkwardness of the interaction, he spoke again. “There’s one more thing. Given that whoever wrote this note has displayed his willingness to come to our doorsteps, JJ is staying with Emily for the time being, Reid with Rossi, and Garcia with Morgan.”
You smirked at the last pairing. Leave it to those two to capitalize on a stalker to bunk up together. 
“I was going to have the Bureau get you a hotel in the meantime, since he did come to your apartment, but Garcia suggested that since we live so close, you could just… stay with me.”
Holy shit.
There was a pained look on his face as he finished the sentence as if he recognized what an utterly bad idea it was, but hadn’t had the good sense to reject it himself. He looked at you, expecting an answer despite the lack of a question mark at the end of that statement, and you struggled mightily to compose yourself to deliver an acceptance that didn’t appear uncomfortably enthusiastic. 
You must have taken too long, because he immediately started to retract his offer. “I already told her it was completely inappropriate; the rest of the team is used to staying together for cases but given you just started, and after the last few days I completely understand -”
“No!” You cut him off. “Sorry, no, that’s not what I was going to say at all. I’d love to. I mean, I think it’s a good idea. I’d feel a lot safer…”
‘With you around?’ Is that too much?
Fuck it. 
“... with you around,” you finished, and you swear you saw him push back a smile.
“Alright, then. I’ll let Garcia know.”
You made a mental note to send that woman a thank-you card.
***
As the workday wound down, you were surprised to Hotch turn out his office light and walk out at the same time as you did.
“Early night?” you teased as you walked to your cars in the parking garage, despite it being 7 pm. 
He chuckled. “It would have been rude of me to keep you hanging around until I decided to leave.”
Right. You were leaving together. Because you were going back to his apartment. Together. The undeniable domesticity of the moment put a skip in your step, and you couldn’t help but wish this was happening under different circumstances.
“So I’ll just stop by my apartment and grab my things?”
“What? No,” Hotch responded, frowning. “I’m coming with you. The whole point of all of this is to avoid being alone.”
And that’s how you ended up speeding down the highway like a madwoman, leaving Hotch in your dust, taking the stairs two at a time, and frantically scrambling to get your apartment in order. It wasn’t terrible; not as if you had rotting food sitting out or something (probably because you didn’t actually cook enough for that), but the recent caseload and spending so much time with Hotch in the mornings had certainly pushed general organization to the wayside. You shoved the growing pile of dirty laundry into your closet, straightened up the coffee table, and were in the middle of packing your suitcase when you heard a knock at the door.
Giving the apartment a quick once-over to make sure you hadn’t missed something utterly humiliating, you opened the door to an unimpressed Hotch.
“I could have pulled you over for speeding, you know,” he said as he strode into your living room.
“Yeah, sorry,” you said sheepishly, “I wanted to make sure this place wasn’t a mess the first time you saw it.”
He cocked an eyebrow and you realized how that came out - the first time, as if there were going to be many more - and you coughed and looked away.
“Anyways. I’m almost done packing, just gotta grab a couple more things.”
He nodded and you hurried to it, wanting to get him out of your apartment as quickly as possible. Normally you’d have jumped at the chance to be alone in a quiet place with him, but the way his eyes were scanning the room made you nervous that he was learning more about you in a very short amount of time than you felt entirely comfortable with.
***
You walked into Hotch’s apartment for the second time ever to find it just as clinically neat as before, except for a set of sheets and blankets laid out on the couch. Grinning, you gestured to them.
“Thought you said you were sure I would say no?”
It was his turn to be shamefaced. “Just in case. Besides,” he shot back, grabbing your bags from where you’d deposited them by the couch, “You’re taking the bed.”
“Like hell I am!” you scoffed, forgoing propriety. “I’m not making my boss sleep on the couch in his own apartment.”
“Considering I, as you mentioned, am your boss,” he responded, “I will be making that decision.”
You plopped down on the couch. “Unless I just refuse to move.”
He stood a few paces away and glared, but gave up and dropped your bags all the same.
You could have sworn you heard him mutter “brat” under his breath, but that didn’t sound like something Aaron Hotchner would say, did it?
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