#also this has been sitting in my drafts bc I couldn’t think of a response | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jcwriting · 3 years

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Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

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

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mysterystarz · 3 years

Text

the romance checklist:

summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.

pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader

word count: 3.2k

genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic

warnings: none

a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)

You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.

It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.

Usually it also provided you with time alone.

That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.

Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.

You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.

You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.

All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.

The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.

You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.

In fact, it was charming in its own way.

“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?

You wish you had an answer.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.

It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.

“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.

“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.

“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.

“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”

You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”

“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”

“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”

“The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”

You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!

“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”

“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”

“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”

“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”

You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”

At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.

“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”

“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”

With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.

You would win that bet. That much was certain.

“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”

The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.

It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.

“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”

“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”

“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”

“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”

“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”

“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”

“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”

Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”

He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.

STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE

After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.

You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.

“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”

“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.

“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”

He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.

It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.

Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.

Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.

“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.

“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”

“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”

“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”

“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”

He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”

“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.

You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.

Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.

You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.

STEP TWO: FLIRT

“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,

Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.

“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.

Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.

“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”

“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”

“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”

“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”

“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.

You had the upper hand right now.

You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.

If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.

You had been absolutely right to doubt him.

When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.

The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.

The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.

He could be a gremlin if left untapped.

You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.

What?

“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”

He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.

He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?

He noticed all of this?

“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.

“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”

For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.

Damn it. His laugh was adorable.

It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.

You’d like to hear it again if you could.

A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.

You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.

Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.

STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES

“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.

It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.

If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.

From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.

“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”

“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.

The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.

Was he nervous?

Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.

“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.

You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.

“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.

“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”

“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.

“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”

You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.

“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.

“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.

taglist (bold cannot be tagged): @moi-bunni @kousukii @littlecatfairy @iwasunshine @kawaii-angelanne @haikyuutothetop @dearkousei @catchmewiddershins @perqabeth @sunarinluvr @elektrosonix @milktyama

reblogs are very appreciated <3

#nova scribbles <3 #kageyama x reader #hq kageyama #hihqnetwork #kageyama fluff #tobio headcanons #tobio scenarios #kegayama tobio #tobio x reader #tobio x y/n #kageyama x y/n #reader x haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu imagines #haikyuu #tobio fluff

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

full circle

description: even if you’ve only known him for eight years, if you think about it, you’ve actually been with minho for most of his entire life. member: minho / lee know genre: fluff, historical au, vampire au, time traveler au, college au, neighbour au, best friends to lovers au, fem reader, this is a longer and revised version of reliable source word count: 10k warnings: explicit language, mentions of animal murder, war, death, blood, alcohol note: yay a third entry to the seven hundred and one universe! oc from seven hundred and one universe is named shiyeon here while the oc from kart rider is named soojung! + this prolly has a lot of plot holes & is just generally mediocre but whatever it’s fiction lmao + @skzwriternet

present: February 13, 2020

Even before he saw you on the other side of his apartment door at 9 PM with all of your work materials and equipment, Minho already knew full well that this day was coming. He’s always known most days are coming. He‘s just more excited for this in particular than the rest, given its inevitability that he‘s lived through for almost 600 years of his total 900 years as a vampire. Tonight, as evidenced by the Google Docs displayed on your open laptop, is the night you’d travel to the past for your doctorate thesis and meet his past self for the first time.

He just didn’t expect this in particular to be on the day right before Valentine’s Day, when he and his two other housemates have decided to make a complete mess out of the kitchen with all of the chocolate they’ve been trying to make.

“Hi, sorry for bothering you at this hour but I was thinking—ew, what’s that smell?” You instinctively and bluntly ask first, sniffing the air escaping his side of the door. Minho could smell it too, strongly at that, and the older vampire could only purse his lips and widen his eyes at you. “Are you guys—please don’t tell me you’re actually cooking humans this ti—“

At that, he immediately shakes his head and breaks out into a nervous laugh, pulling the door closer to his body and effectively hiding Jisung scrambling around for the exhaust (and maybe the fire extinguisher too, for some reason) before you could peer over his shoulder. “No, no! It’s just Jisung and Jeongin—well, it’s mostly Jeongin then he dragged Jisung in on it—they’re making Valentine’s Day chocolates for...some people.”

You could sense the slight bluff in his tone (supported further by the little heart-shaped candy on his cheek) and that at least one of those ‘some people’ he could possibly be referring to is one of your friends, Nari, whom Jeongin has not-so-discreetly been pining over since your second year of college, but you easily let it slide. In the eight years you’ve known the vampires who live and own your apartment complex, after all, you’ve definitely walked in on much wilder things than a couple of questionably burnt chocolates (chocolates aren’t even cooked, as far as you’re concerned!). “Um, okay, sure, I’ll trust you with that.” You squint your eyes at him. “Anyway, can I come in? I need your help with something.”

Minho exhales a small sigh of relief which he turns into a smile for you before looking over his shoulder once to make sure that the coast is clear then opening the door wide once again. “Yeah, come on in.” He concludes next, picking up your backpack on the floor and your heavy laptop in your hands as you cross the threshold. “But it’s really messy in the common area right now so we’ll have to stay in my room, if that’s okay with you.”

You’ve never been in his room, not even when you first became friends in your first year of college eight years ago or on game nights when he always asks for help taking out his Play Station sets. All of Jisung and Jeongin’s jokes of his serial killer tendencies when you’re not around could be true for all you know and it’s the only thing going through your head as you wordlessly follow him inside his apartment, pondering on the thought.

In response, Minho bites down a laugh between his teeth next to you as he accidentally reads your thoughts and when you catch him in the act, you make sure to elbow him with your freer arm, careful of your drafts binder. “Ya, stop reading my thoughts without permission, you asshole!” You scold him in a sharp hiss right as you pass Jisung and Jeongin in the open doorway leading to the kitchen. You greet the two courteously and even make a salute to the fallen chocolates, to which Minho laughs even more at and the two boys groan in protest. “Well, shit, it really is...bad.”

“I know, poor people who’ll get that tomorrow.” Minho shrugs.

“You could say Nari, it’s fine, I won’t tell.” You shrug back with a laugh, taking this time to take the candy off of his cheek and walking past him and the other two boys with a parting wave before Jeongin could even process that you caught up to him and his crush so easily.

Minho, meanwhile, clears his throat awkwardly and follows you, in a poor attempt to hide his immediate flustered expression. Some of the chocolates were actually for you but he won’t tell you that too, of course.

Especially not when you arrive in his room not long after, nodding in approval at its cleanliness that clearly contrasts the current state of his kitchen and, by a slight extension, living room. “Glad you to know you don’t murder people in your room, Min. See? We get closer as friends would every day.”

“I’ve been on blood bag and animal diet since we met, you brat. Don’t tease like that.” Minho rolls his eyes, prompting you to laugh.

“So, where do I work, then?” You ask after, turning to Minho on your side and accidentally brushing your shoulders together.

He gestures to his work table in response, naturally placing his other hand on your back and guiding you towards it. He really hopes you’d be oblivious to the way he’s growing more flustered this time. He doesn’t let you in his room for a reason, after all (that being it’s too intimate in his opinion). “You can use my desk.” He instructs you after, following you and pulling an extra chair for himself once you’ve reached his desk. Placing your backpack next to his work bag then your laptop on top of the table, he then asks, “So, are you travelling now or later?”

He already knew you’d do it sometime now, he really just wanted to ask to keep the conversation going. He even has your hanbok ready—bought from Changbin’s wife’s shop last month.

But, to you, he seems to have miscalculated the situation a little bit as a realization dawns on you while you’re taking out the portable time travel machine from your backpack. It’s actually just a watch but your professors insist on keeping them in really fancy boxes. “I can do it now if it’s oka—wait, I haven’t even told you that part yet! How do you know I’m not just going to hoard your wi-fi?” You exclaim mid-thought, your mouth falling agape and forming an ‘o’ shape in surprise. You know he wasn’t reading your mind just now because, usually, Minho would announce his presence obnoxiously loud in your head or make the face he did a while back but he didn’t this time. “So you’re going to agree to my request? Is that it?”

Eyes equally wide in his mistake, Minho falls back in his chair and ends up fumbling around with his words. “Well—no, I mean, you always only need my help when you’re about to time travel so—!” He tries his best to cover up which only elicits a victorious smile from you. “Ugh, fine, you got me!”

“So, you’ll help me? I mean, past you, technically.” You ask again for confirmation, sitting down on your own chair this time as you fully take out the portable machine and place it on your lap. “I have to tell you, though, that I need to travel to three other periods for my thesis this time. Is that okay?”

Minho props his elbow on the arm rest and nods against his knuckles. “You already know the answer to that, I think.”

You chuckle at this. If eight years of knowing him has taught you anything, it’s to pay attention to the smallest details. He’s clairvoyant, after all, and you need to up him at his own game every now and then somehow. “Then, I’ll also need the proper attire. Haseul said that she can’t take in commissions at the moment so I couldn’t—“

“In the closet, furthest right.” Minho gestures to the walk-in closet behind him in defeat. “You can use that for all the times you’ll go, too.”

“Have I told you that you’re my bestest friend in the world today? Even more than Nari, and she’s a witch, might I add!” You dramatically announce with a grin, handing him the machine’s box before standing up and making a beeline to the double doors on the other side of his bed. When you follow his instructions and find a pink and blue hanbok along with a floral hairpin on the very end of his closet, you then take it out and head to the open bathroom across the room. “Oh, wow, you even got my size right! You must’ve been preparing for this for a long time, huh?”

He really has—but, again, Minho is too stubborn to admit it to your face. “Just tell me if it’s uncomfortable or something.” He simply replies to you instead before you could close the door and change. Once he hears you acknowledge him with a hum before clicking the door to a lock, he then quickly prepares the time travel watch for you (by the way he remembers you doing it in front of him countless of times while you were cramming for a school requirement with him) then places it next to your laptop in exchange for his phone to message the rest of his friends.

minho [9:13 PM]: its happening

chan [9:14 PM]: you’re confessing?

hyunjin [9:14 PM]: hey that’s great! good for you hyung!!!

minho [9:16 PM]: no! y/n’s making the travel to 1388!

changbin [9:18 PM]: chan u know not to get ur hopes up w minho alr we all know he’s hopeless

minho [9:21 PM]: just bc ur alr married u brat

Changbin was still typing out a reply in the groupchat when you came out of the bathroom in your hanbok, laughing behind your hand when Minho looks up and momentarily gapes at you. “Why are you looking at me like that, weirdo?” You furrow your brows as you approach, smacking his arm before sitting down on his bed right behind him with a slight struggle. Peering over his shoulder, you smile appreciatively at noticing the time machine already set up. “And I see you’ve set up the machine without breaking anything this time! Progress!”

Minho scoffs, swiveling his wheeled chair to face you properly before gesturing to the hairpin in your hands. “You don’t like the hairpin?”

"I don’t know why you’re making me wear a hairpin that looks like a wedding heirloom.” You frown. Not to mention, from it’s material, you could tell that it’s new as well, meaning it was designed this way on purpose. “Won’t it attract too much attention?”

Minho doesn’t know why you eventually came to him in the past wearing the hairpin too. He thought his future self was being ridiculous then (and he still does in the moment). “I don’t know, either,” He tells you truthfully this time, standing up from his chair to place it on your tightly-made bun. “But you did come wearing it eventually so just go with the flow, I guess? I don’t know, what do your sci-fi movies say?”

You scoff at him, puffing out the heat rising up to your cheeks at the proximity. He could read your mind if he wants to but he doesn’t seem to be in the moment, even when his lips are gently fanning air into your ear as he fixes the hairpin with utmost care. “I guess I’ll just have to follow your instincts, then.” You sigh in defeat. “I can’t miss a detail, even if it’s weird.”

“Right. I was there in the moment before you right now.” He smiles cheekily before sitting back down on his chair, passing you your time travel box after. “Ready to go?”

You nod, fixing your collar one last time before receiving the machine from his hands. “You haven’t met me in the 1388, right?”

“The first time you met me in the past was in the 1910s for that graduate thesis of yours and the oldest version of me that you’ve met so far was the one from the the 1740s.” Minho corrects, recalling your fourth year thesis some eight years ago. “But the first time I met you in my history was for this doctorate.”

Your eyes light up at this. “Really? You’re meeting me for the first time now?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“We’ll have differing first impressions after this!” You point out to which he snickers. “Also, I haven’t met this version of you, you might be a snob in 1388 and think I’m weird or something.”

Minho personally doesn’t think his first impression of you will ever change, no matter when you’ll meet in time. He’ll always think positively of you. “I was already turned for a long time, then. I haven’t met Chan and the others but I’ve seen and heard of weirder things than a time traveler.” He assures you. “Now, go, so I can help Jisung and Jeongin in the kitchen.”

Rolling your eyes, you then set the date to January 1388 (you notice Minho’s already set the location while you were in the bathroom) before bidding a temporary goodbye to him, disappearing into thin air with the watch on your wrist right after. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

In the blink of an eye, you’re already in a flea market somewhere in Seoul (then named Hanseong, you made sure to remember that well out of all of your history and anthropology notes).

past: January 1388

You easily find 1388 Minho wandering around the flea market, a crowd of court men and women following him religiously as he examines the crops, livestock, and flowers being sold in stalls. The sight makes you scoff in disbelief, even more when you approach and see how he ignores each and every one of them up close.

You know Minho isn’t the one of royal blood in his current coven of vampires (that’s Hyunjin—you know it well from the amount of times you’ve pestered him in your other time travels while he was sulking over his present day fiancée) but he has mentioned in passing once about being popular in the palace court, a socialite of his time if you will.

But then, who could blame him? He’s just that handsome and charming.

“Minho...Lee Minho...” You try calling for him in the crowd but to no avail, the slight embarrassment of following the crowd creeping up to you. It reminds you a bit of when you first saw him in your timeline, your first year of college and his fourth year (because Chan keeps insisting that he goes to university every now and then to pass the time) when all kinds of students would also follow him around at the campus library. It’s annoying, regardless of wherever you are in the world timeline. “Excuse me, Lee Minho!”

He only turns to you when you raise your voice, an eyebrow momentarily raised until your eyes meet and a look seemingly of recognition crosses his features.

You became friends with him as an older vampire but why is he more intimidating as a younger one? It’s probably the rest of the crowd’s eyes being on you because of your sudden interruption. Either way, you forcibly gulp down your nervousness and call for him again. “Lee Minho?”

“Yes?”

“C-Can I—Can I talk to you for a moment?” You gesture for him to follow you, his piercing gaze making your hands shake a bit. This is probably what Chan meant when he said Minho was a bit scary when he first met him in the 1400s.

Minho follows you, anyway, which alleviates and heightens your nervousness at the same time. The crowd would’ve followed if not for him glaring at them not to right before you turned to the main entrance of the flea market where a few people were loitering around at. He feels like he knows you from somewhere which, if you knew about, you’d tell him that that’s impossible since, chronologically, you haven’t met him before this.

Once you’re away from the majority of the market crowd, only then do you turn to properly face him and his expectant eyes. He’s still looks the same as he does in the present, just more curious, seeing as you’re a stranger for now. It’s comforting, somehow, so much so that it relaxes you and eventually makes you laugh as well.

“What’s so funny?” He asks you without any hint of malice once you uncontrollably burst into giggles, prompting you to lift your hand up to your mouth. Already developing his clairvoyant abilities at this time period, he could easily tell by the unfamiliar terms in your thoughts and the way you hold yourself up that you were different—far more different than everyone around you. “And who are you?”

You wave your other hand dismissively, taking a step back to recuperate. You end up giggling a few more times before you could manage to take a deep breath and exhale slowly by turning your eyes away from Minho momentarily. “I’m sorry, I’m Y/N and I—sorry! It’s just so...it’s a bit weird!”

“Definitely.” Though your answer is unsatisfactory, the boy nods anyway. “And how do you know my name?”

“I know you from the futur—wait, you can tell that it’s a bit weird too?” You raise an eyebrow and fold your arms over your chest. “It’s…sometime in the 1300s—“

“Thirteen eighty-eight.”

“Right.” You nodded at his correction with a dry scoff, piquing his interest further. “It’s only 1388 and you’re already this good of a clairvoyant?”

Minho was instinctively taken aback with you. His present self forgot to tell you that clairvoyance doesn’t have an established name in this time yet. “How did you—? What? Huh, well…the hanbok—the hanbok’s a bit of a giveaway too, I guess. It looks different from what the court women usually wear.”

You then briefly glanced down at your hanbok, a pout resting on your features when you look back up at Minho again. “Really? But you—I mean, my source told me that this was accurate.” Come to think of it, you didn’t really check the attire thoroughly since you really needed to travel immediately to cram your paper. You’ll have to give 2020 Minho an earful about this later. “Ah, guess it’s my fault for not double-checking. I was in a bit of a rush to come here.”

Minho from 1388, however, shakes his head at you in disapproval then briefly begins pointing out the different design patterns that looked foreign to him. “And this hairpin,” He pointed your hair accessory last, from what you can remember at present. There’s an unreadable expression in his face, one you’re too flustered to interpret as amusement. “This looks like a wedding heirloom but…a bit futuristic for my time, if that makes sense. I don’t suppose you wanted to come here disguised as someone’s wife, right? That’d attract more attention to you.”

And with that, you almost immediately deflate right in front of him with a defeated sigh and he smirks teasingly in return. To the passersby at the flea market, people could’ve easily mistaken the two of you for a quarreling married couple. “So that’s how it is.” You surrender easily, your arms loosening. “I guess even at this time you’re clairvoyant and smart. How annoying.”

His smirk grows even more triumphantly at this. “So, why did you come here?” He asks next. He figures out halfway through your rambles that it’s probably better to go along with you than to insist on his own questions, at least until you’ve organized your thoughts a little bit better.

You ponder on the question for a moment, shifting your weight between the balls of your feet to pass the time. When you do answer, you explain, “Well, it’s a little crazy but my source has said that you’ll be okay with it so...believe it or not, I’m from the future and doing my doctorate thesis on a dynasty that’s about to establish itself around this time.” When 1388 Minho doesn’t immediately and visibly freak out as he would on your worst case scenario, you take this as your cue to continue. “You’re still alive in my time but I can’t tell you what our relationship is or it’ll be spoilers! All I can say is that you’ve helped me passed a lot of my major requirements in school and if you’re okay with it, you can help me with this one too!”

The Minho in front of you thinks that you probably know him very well to know that he’s not easily spooked with anything out of the ordinary, not even by someone who claims to be from the future and is doing an academic paper about the past. You did mention knowing his personal history, as well, which effectively gained you his trust. He just hopes you’re not married or something in the future as the hairpin seems to be trying to imply or else he’d consider this first meeting of yours a bit chaotic for his liking. “Sure. Where do you have to be right now?”

Really? It’s that easy? Is all you can think about, much to Minho’s curiosity when he reads your thoughts. “O-Oh, well, um...if you can take me to the palace courts, that would be...cool, I mean nice.”

And so, Minho from 1388 ends up showing you around the palace courts for the next six months that follows (but, really, it’s just merely six minutes in the present time), even introducing you to people whom you ended up entrusting with your data-gathering. You almost mentioned Hyunjin and his fiancé, Shiyeon, on more than one occasion, remembering how the vampire would be with Seungmin already by this time while the immortal witch would be travelling around Korea, but opted not to instead when you also remember that no one from this time period really liked talking about the previous fire that killed most of Hyunjin’s family.

Besides, you didn’t want to mess up the timeline and have Minho meet Hyunjin before he could meet Chan, even when he would ask you about it right before you left.

“How am I in the future, by the way? Am I allowed to ask that?” Minho asks you curiously as you hold out your watch in front of him. It was starting to get annoying, having to hide it in your bell sleeves all the time. “And what am I doing by then?”

“I can’t say anything specific that’s important.” You scrunch up your nose disapprovingly to which Minho only glares at you in response. “Just trust me, you’re sort of happy with where you are in my present day. You don’t have to worry about it now, it’s still 600 years away, anyway.”

Minho mistakenly interprets that as the two of you being married in the future. He doesn’t have feelings for you in this time period but he takes your word not to worry about it until it’s happened.

Besides, you seem kind. He’ll see something in you eventually.

“When will I see you again, then?”

“Um...around 1418, probably?” You answer with a hint of uncertainty as you faintly recall your thesis’ outline. You needed to see King Sejeong’s court next. “You’ll still be here, right?”

Minho initially had plans on moving to a nearby province but he nods, anyway, thinking that that could wait for a few more years. “Yeah.”

And with that, you’re gone again.

present: February 13, 2020

When you get back to the present day, it’s only 9:35 PM, almost six minutes since you left, but Minho’s already in the kitchen, helping Jisung and Jeongin clean up their mess.

“Back already?” Minho asks with a blood bag between his teeth when he catches sight of you by the open doorway as he wipes the kitchen island clean, immediately noticing the grin you wear on your face. “What did you think?”

“You were much chiller then!” You exclaim, ducking past Jeongin and Jisung to sit down right across Minho on the countertop. “I mean, you were a bit scary at first with the whole glaring thing you got going on but you were very calm and collected, then, like you weren’t even phased about me being from the future!”

Of course he would be at that time, he was literally there when it happened (and also because he’s always had a feeling even from before that you’d meet but that’s also on his long list of things he won’t tell you). Instead, you see him quirk an eyebrow, throwing the rag towel in his hand to the side to pick up his phone and resume his Kart Rider. “Weirdoes vibe with weirdoes, I guess.” He shrugs, chuckling when you protest at this. “Anyway, you got what you need, right?”

You nod happily with a hum, propping an elbow up on the now clean counter and resting your cheek on your palm. “I have enough to write about later when you’re done cleaning.”

“Ya, Y/N, if you’re gonna stick around at least help us clean the kitchen!” Jisung complains as he drags a wet mop across the floor behind you.

“And why would I do that? I didn’t even help you make the chocolates!”

“Because Minho’s been making cho—” Before Jisung could finish his sentence, however, Minho throws his rag towel towards the younger vampire, aiming it directly to his face. “Ya!”

You shake your head in disbelief, turning to Minho again after. “Anyway, I have to fix my notes for a bit and you need to tell me where else I went for this paper!”

Also because you were kinda cute back then, you think to yourself more as an after-thought, not really expecting for Minho to accidentally hear it.

Now, Minho knows why he made you wear the hairpin. Is it normal to be jealous of one’s past self?

present: February 16, 2020

Minho offers you a whole bag of your favorite mini Toblerones the next time that you knock on his door to work on your thesis. The Valentine’s Day homemade chocolates were a fail even when Felix was eventually brought in last-minute (then you just had to disappear for a whole day with Nari and Shiyeon, too), so he rushed to the nearest convenience store to buy you the Toblerones as soon as you told him that you’ll come over again to pester him with his Internet connection and ask him more about your work.

Maybe this is really it, the one you were talking about in his past.

“You’re being nice to me with all this chocolate.” You squint your eyes with a piece of the chocolate in between your teeth suspiciously across the dining table as you work, head buried in papers to revise and dusty reference books. Your professor has you on travel limit as everyone else, only allowing you up to four actual visits to the past, hence the mountainous stacks of library books and journals you’ve borrowed from both the campus library and Changbin’s personal collection. “What do you need? Ya, I’m talking to you.”

Minho, busy in his own academic work on his laptop, only peeks up at you belatedly when he’s reaching out for his blood bag buried underneath all of your papers. “What?”

“What are the chocolates for?” You ask straightforwardly this time, picking up another mini Toblerone off the yellow bag. “Last time you bought me something from the convenience store was when you ate the squirrel I was feeding in the back garden.”

Minho only shrugs as nonchalantly as he could, though he can’t help but feel a little flustered as evidenced by the way his eyes briefly widen. The squirrel incident was a long time ago and yet you still won’t let it go. “Can’t I be nice?” He simply asks back in answer to which you scoff at. He laughs along with you, anyway. “Jeongin bought it then gave me the extra, probably to give to you since I can’t really eat it.”

You wanted to tell him that Nari actually shared the chocolates Jeongin gave her and they were definitely not Toblerones but you let it slide again. For some reason, it’s funny seeing Minho try to cover up something right in front of your face and thinking that he’s doing a good job at it. He’s trained you to see past his bullshit for the past 8 years, he should really know better. “Um...right.” You nod teasingly. “I’m gonna pretend you’re not looking very suspicious right now.”

Minho could clearly tell that you’re doubting him even without reading you but he does nothing more to it. He’s too deep in his bullshit already and you both know that.

Truth is, he was just fulfilling something you mentioned in your second visit to him (and probably as a way to give you something on Valentine’s Day even if it’s two days late).

“Anyway, when are you making the travel again?”

“Right after I finish summarizing this book.”

And it happens to come full circle today, too. What luck does your best friend have.

past: August 1418

You jump between days in a span of six years this time (which is approximately an hour and twelve minutes back in the present time) with the help of Minho, Chan, and Changbin from 1418 helping you by preparing an entire closet of clothes and coming up with a very detailed background story of how you were a distant relative of Chan’s from the province in the case that someone asked about you. The other two boys were more than happy to welcome you despite how foreign time travel was to them in this time period because, apparently, you’re all Minho’s ever talked about since they met.

“It’s nice knowing that Minho didn’t fever dreamed you up or something.” Changbin joked to you once towards the end of the six years of your data-gathering, to which he received a full apple shoved in his mouth from Minho. In this time period, his wife, Haseul, was still in that sleeping curse you still don’t understand fully at present, carefully laid in a tomb somewhere in the capital. Fortunately, you managed to avoid telling him that she wakes up seven centuries later (and that they get married) throughout your entire stay and avoided spoilers. “Vampires who’ve lived long like us tend to do that sometimes. Heck, even Chan does that lots of times these days, telling us about this immortal person he’s been looking for a while now. I guess it’s the human brain’s natural response to having a lot of memories.”

“Minho remembers me just fine in the present, though.” You shrug as you re-write your interview notes, to which Minho mumbles a ‘Really?’ at. When you nod at him, he immediately rolls his eyes up in thought. You want to tell them that the person Chan’s been looking for at this time’s also real (and that he and said person, Eunhye, even live together now), too, but you decide against it later on for spoiler reasons again. “You have really good memory in the present, you even bought me Toblerones today.”

“What are those?”

A realization dawns on you right there and then, a small smile forming on your lips to which Minho quirks an eyebrow at and Changbin immediately asks you about. “You’ll find out soon enough. Just know that they’re my favorite.” You simply answer, standing up from the front porch of the inn you’ve been staying at and dusting the dirt off of your new hanbok. You remind yourself to ask Minho and Changbin about where these are at present later on. “Anyway, I’m off! I need to interview a few court people then I’ll be off your hairs again soon!”

When it’s time for you to leave again, Minho’s still pestering you about what Toblerones are.

“Come on, tell me!” He protests, going as far as holding your wrist where your watch is before you could escape. “Y/N!”

You only grin up at him mischievously, gently swatting his hand away. “February 16, 2020! Also, make me ramen and coffee when I get back to the other side, please! I’d really like that!”

present: February 16, 2020

A steaming bowl of ramen and a warm cup of miraculously decently-brewed coffee are on the kitchen countertop by the time you come back, just as you asked him six hundred years in the past. What you didn’t expect, however, was the way your notes and references have also been organized neatly on the table while you were away and Minho dozing off on the nearby sofa in the open living room (he really likes genuine sleep lately which you’re yet to ask him as to why). You make sure to check that he really is sleeping by pinching his nose (and getting no response which is his usual indication of actual sleep) before placing the blanket he has reserved for you in his apartment over his hunched over body.

“You don’t really need it,” You whisper tiredly, tucking the blanket close to his neck. His skin is naturally cold, as any normal vampire’s, but you’ve slowly grown accustomed to it over the years. “but how else am I going to say thank you for remembering my request after six hundred years? You’re going above and beyond anyone I’ve ever met, Lee Minho, you should stop raising the bar too high for men like this.”

three

past: May 1592

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Minho from 1592 asks you right after you’ve reappeared in his house. Chan is out for work and Changbin is visiting Haseul on this particular day, leaving him to tend to their main house alone. “We’re in the middle of—”

“A Japanese invasion, I know.” You finish his thought for him, casually plopping down on the front porch right next to him and gingerly receiving the cup of tea he offers you. The garden he’s been trying to tend the last time you were around hasn’t made any significant progress even when an entire century has passed. You want to think it’s because the boys have been travelling elsewhere right before you returned but you also know it’s because they haven’t met Seungmin and Hyunjin yet. Those two are still probably travelling with Shiyeon. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”

“Don’t tell me you’re—” Minho leans away and gazes back incredulously at you. He can already tell, with his own abilities, that you’re not thinking of what he’s thinking but he asks anyway to fully confirm. “I’m not letting you go to the frontlines if that’s what you’re going to ask me this time.”

You chuckle at his genuinely mortified expression as you sip on your tea, making the boy furrow his brows at you. You really must be crazy. “You already know I’m not thinking of that! Though, I will ask you crazier things in the distant future.” You assure him. “I’ll only be staying for a year, six years again at most since I only need to complete a few interviews and fact-check a few books.”

“Good.” Minho sighs in relief, taking a long sip of his tea as well. Even in 1592, the only human beverage Minho could stand is tea, you’re quick to notice. “That’s...that’s a relief.”

“Why would you even be worried about going to the field, you’re immorta—ya, perhaps, do you you care about me?” You tease, grinning widely at the sudden realization. “We have a really messed-up timeline but you already care about me as early as now, that’s cute!”

Minho from this time period could only roll his eyes at you against his sudden flustered feeling. If he was curious of your relationship with his future self when you first met, he’s curious as to how his future self keeps up with you this time. “Because you might be important to me in the future or something.” He bluffs to which you only chuckle fondly at. “I can’t really tell since you won’t tell me exactly how I know you in the future.”

“Well, what am I to you now?”

“A friend.” And he means it truthfully.

You’re momentarily taken aback, Minho sees even when you’re quick to hide it. Present Minho won’t even call you his best friend like you do to him. “Then just—just remember that until then.” You point out, smiling when you gaze over to his side and see his sincere expression. Something leaps in your chest at hearing him say those words without his usual playful tone of voice. It’s not what you’ve always been hoping for but it’s a start. “Won’t it be better if you just find out in the moment when it does happen?”

Minho wants to tell you that he can’t wait but his teasing nature always gets the best of him first, “Hm, maybe you don’t actually know me at all in the future, that’s why you’re always being vague when I ask you.”

You scoff, smacking his arm. “Ya!”

“So, really, what are you to me in the future?” He insists anyway, swiftly dodging your hits until he’s caught your wrist in his hands. “Friend? Best friend?”

A lover? He wanted to add further but he bites his tongue back just in time.

“I always call you my best friend but I’ve yet to hear the same thing from you so, honestly, how would I know when you’re so secretive with your true feelings all the time! I’m even surprised you answered my question just now.” You frown, unintentionally coming off as bitter in your tone of voice as you retract your hand back to your side. You place your cup down as well, careful of the remaining tea so it doesn’t accidentally spill on your hanbok. At this moment, you miss the way Minho’s expression turns into confusion. “If it helps, though, I can only tell you that you always let me in your house to hoard the wi-fi—which you don’t have to know about right now!—and you’ve kept me around long enough to know when you’re trying to lie to me or read my thoughts with your clairvoyance thing going on.”

Minho nods along, humming in thought. “So you’re a parasite?”

You inhale a deep breath, focusing all of your energy into restraining yourself from hitting him for a second time. “You’ve called me worse.” You sigh with a controlled laugh. “Expired dinner and ex-wife who has nowhere else to go are my personal favorites.”

Next to you, Minho’s eyes genuinely widen in curiosity. “We got married?”

“Um, no? No, no, it’s an expression!” You shake your head and snicker despite the contrasting heat on your neck. Minho grows flustered at sensing the blood rushing up to your face. “I don’t even know if you’re capable of romantic love, dude. You’re always kinda everywhere and nowhere.”

Minho’s not offended, though, especially not when you try to apologize after at realizing that you’re not as close with this version of him as you are with the version you know in your own time. “It’s fine.” He assures you with a shrug, knowing full well that you were just kidding around. “I’m guessing with that that I’m still single five centuries later.”

“That and a bit of a flirt, too.” You clarify before his words fully process in your head. “Wait, so that means you haven’t dated even before this?”

Minho shakes his head. “No, no one’s caught my eye yet.”

You purse your lips in thought of this new revelation. It’s in moments like this, when you’re meeting past selves of your immortal friends that you realize just how little you actually know of them. “Huh, I didn’t peg you as the type.”

“The type to what?”

You shrug slowly, hunching over in your seat. “To be the fall in love just once type? I don’t know...”

Chan has mentioned to you once about Minho believing in soulmates but you were quick to dismiss that then. Remembering that now, maybe he is right.

And, as if he has been reading your thoughts this entire time, Minho agrees with a nod. “Then, now you know. If you’ve lived as long as I have, soulmates are really nice to think about.”

“But you always tease me about it...you from the future at least.” You pout. “Again, no offense, it’s just that—from the way I know you in my time, you’re very confusing.”

When you glance over at Minho, you see him sit up straighter and lean closer to you again, your shoulders bumping against his as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. “Really? How am I confusing? Maybe I can help.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Ah, but that’s unfair. You’ll take note of this in the future again.”

“Your time’s five hundred years away, I’m sure I’ll forget this with time.” He assures you to no avail as evidenced by your squinted eyes.

“You remembered my ramen and coffee request from last time, though.” You argue back, making his eyes light up.

“I will?”

You nod, placing a finger on his forehead and pushing his face away from yours. “Yeah, so I don’t trust you. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Minho doesn’t bother you anymore about it for the rest of your one-year stay, which you’re more than grateful for.

present: February 22, 2020

He does, however, teases you about it again when you’re back to the present. Closing in on you in one of his bone-crushing hugs when you reappear in his room, he asks, “So, how was meeting me in the 1500s this time, best friend?”

“Excuse me, what did you say?” You furrow your brows at him, your arms going limp on your sides while your entire body freezes on the spot.

“I just called you my best friend.” He repeats casually with a shrug. “Why?”

Minho purposely omits the fact that he double-checked his old journals to make sure that you just time traveled to that period when you mentioned to him how he’s never called you his best friend. He’s been waiting for this opportunity to set it right with you since he didn’t know much of the context back then.

You shake your head in response, reluctantly hugging him back once you’ve regained feeling in your arms again. “Nothing, it’s just...”

“Dude, you’re acting like past me and present me are different people.” He chuckles against your hair, squeezing your frame once before pulling away. “So, we’re good, right? You’re not bitter about the whole best friend thing now?”

You frown, slapping his elbow to which he only chuckles at. “Who said I was bitter?”

“You did in 1592!” He teases, his mischievous grin softening into a fond smile after. “But seriously...sorry about that. I just think it’s cheesy to say most of the time but you really are...my best friend now I guess—maybe until you die in 50 years.”

Minho then runs away before you could even protest, prompting you to chase him out of his room and into the hallway. “Ya, Lee Minho! I’m going to kill you first, you brat!”

But you know that deep in your heart that he’s only joking (and also because Jeongin has gossiped to you once about accidentally reading one of Minho’s journal entries from the 1700s once about meeting someone who shares your name but was already working as a professor in university and may or may not already be a vampire).

present: February 29, 2020

“Okay, to refresh...” You mumble as you adjust the watch on your wrist and the switchblade Minho insisted on you keeping in your pants’ pockets. Next to you, said vampire’s is sprawled on his bed, a reviewer and highlighter in hand. “In 1895, Hyunjin was following Shiyeon around the world, Seungmin was starting out his photography career, Soojung was taking a beauty nap, Haseul was still sleeping, Changbin was going on a Jack the Killer rampage somewhere in Europe, Jisung was still a newborn, Felix, and Jeongin haven’t joined you yet, and Chan was...learning yoga with Eunhye? Is that right?”

“And I’ve met all versions of you by this time.” Minho adds in absentmindedly before going back to chanting his notes over and over again. He really doesn’t need to since he really has sharp memory these days but you let him study for whatever it is he’s studying, anyway, so he has something else to do besides Kart Rider and annoying his other friends. “Just tell past me who I’m meeting when you arrive since you know how I kept mixing graduate studies you and college thesis you up all the time.”

“That’s...you guys have lived lives.” You puff out a tired breath, making Minho glance up to you briefly and chuckle. “Sometimes, it makes me and Nari feel so small.”

“It’s not much.” The boy shrugs back. “It personally hasn’t felt that long.”

“And why’s that?” You hum curiously.

He mumbles something behind his paper but you don’t hear it well. When you ask him about it, he only shakes his head and kicks you with his socket foot, urging you to go already.

Minho actually said, “It’s because you’ve been with me the entire time.” but he’ll just tell you all about it later when you come back.

With a scoff, you then swat his foot away and bid him goodbye. “Fine, see you later then.”

“I’ll organize your notes until then. Bye.”

past: July 1895

Minho sets your location on your watch to his house, now renovated to what was considered modern then. You’ve been here countless of times, albeit in different time periods of your own past (the last being when you had to ask for his help in the 1860s about your graduate thesis), but you’ve never been here in the 1890s, not when a newborn Jisung had the self-control of a toddler and immediately tried pouncing on you the moment he smelled you on their front lawn.

Now you know what the switchblade is for (and the one time Jisung kept apologizing to you in the 1910s).

“Ji, calm down!” Minho growls in annoyance, holding the younger boy by his arms as he drags him back inside the house. He can feel your anxiousness increase just by looking at this unfamiliar side of Jisung, prompting him to send you an apologizing look. “Sorry, um, Y/N, I—”

“I-It’s...it’s fine.” You assure shakily with a curt nod, taking a step back as well when Jisung tries regaining two steps towards you again. “I think I came in the wrong day.”

“It depends. What are you here for?” He asks, his voice growing faint as he successfully manages to lock Jisung inside the house. He then quickly jogs back to you, examining your face for any recognizable hints of where you could be from.

“Doctorate thesis.” You answer for him, earning you a look of realization from him.

“Oh, it’s you.” He smiles in relief. You remember distinctly how these were also the very same words he told you when you first met him in a time travel. “I was thinking you’d never come back.”

You feign a frown in front of him, making him laugh. “Why? Did you think I wouldn’t finish my studies?”

“It’s just that the next time you came back, from my point of view, is when you were only in college to ask me about the 1810s.” He clarifies, to which you nod in understanding. So he does remember. “I thought it weird at first that you didn’t come back sooner to finish your doctorate.”

“Ah, well, you in 2020 has been a big help—well, him and a shit ton of books.” You chuckle awkwardly. “This is my last trip for my doctorate, actually, since I have the smallest amount of resources for Queen Min.”

“T-This is—this is your last?”

You smirk at his briefly dejected expression, elbowing him gently. “Why do you look so sad? You already know we’ll meet again in the future. Plus, you’ll still meet younger versions of me later on for my college requirements which is a bit confusing to hear right now but you’ll get it later!”

Minho opens his mouth to speak, initially to tell you something about being frustrated that he’s only seen glimpses (and different versions) of you throughout his life so far, but he’s suddenly cut off by Jisung banging wildly against the front door, making him and you flinch.

“Um...what if we deal with Jisung first?” You suggest. “I assure you we’re all going to be great friends in the future but no one really told me that this would happen.”

Minho nods slowly next to you, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yeah, we should probably take care of him first before your thesis. You could spare five minutes to sit down, right?”

“Definitely.”

And so, you spend the rest of your first day getting Jisung to calm down in your presence.

present: February 29, 2020

“Chan, babe, please, please, please promise that you won’t flinch when we use the party poppers later.” Eunhye sighs exasperatedly as she leads everyone into organizing the kitchen and living room. “Felix, good job on the cookies by the way! They turned out really well! Jisung, hurry up with that banner!”

“Babe, I don’t flinch!” Chan yells across the hallway as he re-checks if everyone will have enough party hats, trumpets, and poppers for later.

“Yes you do!”

“What’s so significant about today, anyway?” Nari asks Jeongin as the two enter the apartment with boxes upon boxes of blood bags and alcoholic drinks. “Besides Y/N finishing their thesis, of course.”

Shiyeon and Hyunjin follow closely behind with take-out boxes of chicken wings. “Because today is Y/N’s last time travel before they become a professor! A lot of good things are going to happen after, trust me.” Shiyeon answers with a wink.

“How come you know all of that? You were barely with us in the 1800s.” Jisung asks while struggling to put the other end of your congratulations banner across the kitchen. Soojung is on the other end, arm beginning to fall asleep as she holds up the other end of the banner for Jisung. “Even Jeongin and Felix don’t know that.”

“There’s a thing called correspondence and Hyunjin was a diligent gossiper.” Shiyeon only chuckles, setting down the take-out boxes on the countertop. “Also, hey, I was there in one of Y/N’s visits! It just hasn’t happened in our timeline yet but it will in three years!”

Minho then emerges from his room, phone in hand counting down the seconds until you’re back again. “Okay, we have two hours to get everything ready.”

“Lee Minho where have you been this entire time!” Eunhye complains, finally taking the boy’s presence to take a seat. “I’ve been organizing everyone for a whole ten minutes!”

“You mean you have two hours to get ready.” Haseul teases, seated on one of the dining table chairs and helping Changbin, Seungmin, and Felix make proper chocolates this time. “Don’t you have something else important you need to prepare?”

“No, I can just wing it.” Minho dismisses to which Chan immediately laughs at, catching the younger boy’s panicked expression.

“Sure you do.” Seungmin dryly responds, to which everyone topples over in laughter.

past: November 1905

“You’ll see me again in five years, at least from your point of view.” You assure Minho from 1905 right before you leave. Jisung’s apologizing again about the incident last time but you’re quick to hug him and effectively shut him up. “The one you’ll meet in 1910 is going to be a little different, though, a little younger.”

“But it’s still you.”

You smile at this. “Yeah, still me.”

Minho wants to tell you so badly that he’s met another version of you while you were away, someone older, but he quickly pushes the thought at the back of his head. Is this how you feel holding back spoilers from him? Instead, he ops to tease you. “You know, when people usually meet, it’s not as backwards as us.” When you raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, “You keep meeting me from the past and I’ve met you from the future countless of times. Even if culture’s going to be different in the future, I’m pretty sure this is still not how it goes there.”

Finally, understanding, you let out a laugh, hitting his side playfully. “Definitely not.” You agree sheepishly. “But I think that makes it even more special. It makes you wait until we’re in the same time, right?”

Minho nods. “What date are you going back to again?”

“February 29, 2020. Why?”

He says nothing else on it but bids you goodbye with one last hug instead. “Nothing. I’ll see you again soon...or another version of you.”

“And I’ll see future you.” You chuckle before disappearing.

present: February 29, 2020

You come back to all the lights in Minho’s apartment turned off at the present. You hear whispers and the soft clicking of a lighter as well, prompting you to follow the noise outside.

“I think it’s better if Changbin doesn’t hold the cake, don’t you think?” You recognize Haseul’s loud voice even from the hallways, fueling your curiosity even further.

A slight pause then follows before you hear Chan agree, “Yeah. Hyunjin, you hold the other cake.”

“Lix, you’re stepping on my foot.” That’s Jisung, you know by the way he’s always whiny when he complains.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

“Everyone, quiet! Y/N’s on their way!” Nari scolds and the hushes then quickly fall silent once you reach the kitchen, flipping the light switch on the hallway to the sound of party poppers exploding right in front of you. Only then do you see the big ‘CONGRATULATIONS Y/N!’ banner hanging right above everyone standing in a line with cake, hats, and trumpets.

“Um?” You raise an eyebrow at everyone, breaking out into an uncontrollable grin. “What’s with all this?”

Minho of your time then walks over to you with a Toblerone cake, carefully protecting two candles from the breeze that enters through the windows. “Chan and Eunhye insisted on a party so...congrats on finishing your thesis!”

Over his shoulder, said vampire and immortal immediately shake their heads in denial. “It’s his idea!” Eunhye mouths to you with a smirk, making you chuckle.

You then turn to Minho with a smile. “I haven’t even finished writing it yet.” You point out only for your best friend to shrug nonchalantly. “And my graduation’s in a month.”

“Yeah, we can work on that once everyone’s out of the apartment.” He suggests. “Now, just blow on the candles first, Seungmin’s arms are about to fall off waiting to take a picture.”

You briefly apologize to Seungmin on the side with a sheepish laugh, blowing on the cake’s candles after to the many snaps of his film camera. “Thank you for all this. I really appreciate it, you guys!” You thank your guests after, approaching them with Minho on your side this time.

“We can call you Professor now, right?” Hyunjin playfully asks, elbowing you gently on your side.

“It makes me sound really old.” You pout, making him laugh. “In a few years.”

“Three years.” Shiyeon coughs to which Minho immediately glares them down for.

Catching this gesture, you decide on purposely ignoring it for now. You’ll have to ask Shiyeon what they mean with that later. “Anyway, let’s eat. Have you guys been here long?”

“Not really but I’m already starving!” Soojung exclaims, passing you a plate and utensils. Next to her, Felix and Chan instinctively open up all the take-out boxes of food for everyone to dig in.

“Alright, let’s eat!”

present: March 1, 2020

Minho kicks everyone out after by the strike of midnight, when all the food’s been devoured and the party games have been played at least twice. Surprisingly, even Jisung and Jeongin were directed outside by Minho at this time, which you immediately ask him about once the two boys are out of the door. “Don’t those two live here?” You joke with a dry chuckle. “You don’t have to kick them out so we can work.”

“They’ll come back later.” Minho gently shuts the door before turning to you as you stand with your arms crossed in front of your chest, a genuinely curious expression on your face. “I just...need a moment with you.”

You pretend to take a step back with your best dramatic expression of fear. “Oh my God, you’re going to kill me after eight years of friendship, right?”

“What? No.” Minho furrows his brows at this, making you laugh. “It’s just...fuck, now I’m off-tracked.”

You giggle this time, loosening your arms in front of you. “What is it, Minho?”

There have been times, both in the past and present though rare, when Minho has looked nervous in front of you. The last time he was, from what you can remember, was when he was about to tell you that he accidentally killed the squirrel in the apartment’s back garden but even then, he wasn’t as nervous as he is now—fiddling with the hem of his blue sweater for a brief moment before finally taking the courage to step closer to you. “I-I, um—” He stammers out, one hand instinctively going up to his nape. “What I want to say is that...remember when I asked you in 1592 about how I know you?”

“You just teased me about that last week.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to ease the sudden awkwardness, only to make it even worse for Minho. With this, your expression immediately contorts into worry. “What about it?”

“Then in 1905, where you just came back from, you told me we’ll meet in the right time eventually...” He continues after a while, smiling back when you do reassuringly. “In between those centuries, of course, y-you—you came in for your college homework and your Masteral’s but there was also...there was also someone else.”

This unexpected turn drops something heavy on your stomach, your smile unconsciously faltering. Minho wants to snicker but, knowing you, you’ll probably think of him cold if he does so he takes in a deep breath and tries his best to continue with less stutters this time. “Don’t be too sad, it’s still you, just a few months in the future.” He assures with a chuckle, hands instinctively going up to your sides to rub your arms comfortingly. Your eyes widen at this in response and you freeze in his touch. “Anyway, July 2020 Y/N just told me to do something tonight, if that’s okay.”

It takes you a moment to respond but Minho patiently waits, holding back his laugh by biting his lip down. He’s reading your thoughts as they go into overdrive. Is this how you feel when I hide the future from you before? You internally ask to which he nods at. “U-Um, so...what are you going to do?”

“Just tell you that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.” Minho finally confesses, sighing in relief once he’s gotten the words out surprisingly well. “And if you’d like to go out for a trip after your graduation—and not the time travel trip, this time so we can be together right.”

There’s more to it, actually, Minho has a whole paper written and rehearsed for a span of almost three centuries but he figures you’ll find out about it eventually. He could tell you about how he’s been in love with every version of you that he’s met in the past another time or maybe you already know it.

“So?” He asks after a while when you don’t speak verbally. Your thoughts are still muddled and your heartbeat’s a little too fast for his liking but he holds any impulsive urge he might have in for your sake. “What do you say?”

You purse your lips once, mustering up a relieved smile at him after. “You already met me from the future this time—which I commend you for, by the way, because you’ve one-upped me again this time!—so I think you already know the answer to that.”

epilogue

past: July 1799

You know full well that you’re not supposed to travel back in time for personal reasons, especially not for the reason you’re coming into 1799 to see a past Minho for, but you figure that you’re already in your university’s faculty roster. If I get caught, you think to yourself as you easily spot Minho with Chan at an art exhibit in Paris, the professors will probably understand.

“Minho! Chan!” You call with your hand above your head waving frantically at the two, catching theirs and a few patrons’ attentions. You don’t mind the extra attention as you approach him, though, since they did instinctively made way for you because of it. “Hello there, you two!”

“Hi, Y/N!” Chan greets you happily, giving you a side hug. “Aren’t you back too soon?”

But knowing full well that you’re probably not the same one the two met last time, Minho smirks in amusement as he eyes your choice of clothes and asks, “And where did you come from? By the clothes, me from the future probably doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Yeah, I picked out my own clothes for today. Anyway, I won’t be here long.” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “I’m from July 2020 and I’m not here for any academic work this time! I just wanted to ask you a quick favor.”

From what you’ve detailed in your own journals, the last time you met from this particular Minho’s point of view was when you were doing a paper on the Baroque movement for one of your college classes.

“What is it?” He asks you anyway, his body turned away from the painting that he and Chan have been previously admiring as he gives you his full attention.

Judging from the amount of times you’ve visited him (and the different versions of you he’s meet as well), his future self seems to agree on your requests all the time.

“I can’t tell you much but please prepare something on February 29, 2020!” You answer, your watch beeping on your side to remind you that it’s almost time to leave. “And make sure to mention me! Remember, Y/N from July 2020!”

Before he could ask about it, further, however, you were already gone.

“What do you think that was about, Chan?” Minho asks the older vampire instead.

But Chan simply shrugs, hands going deeper in his pockets as he thinks. “No idea.” He admits in equal confusion. “Guess we’ll have to see in three hundred years.”

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1kook · 4 years

Text

skirt chasers - drabble i

a skirt chasers drabble bc they are my fave fictional couple to date <333

tags: coupley and domestic, jk’s terrible attempts at seducing via text, making out, dry humping, spitting (ik idk what came over me), too much talking for this to be sexual pero hey here we are wc: like 3k

entirely based off jungkook from bv3 that man had NO right to look that good and the holy jirkenstocks (jungkook birkenstocks). wont lie this has been completely written in my drafts since November (yes 2019) and i hoarded it under the belief i would make this a whole part 2 which i did not

que dios los bendiga <3

Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook’s spring break in Vegas with the boys is cut three days short when Jimin’s dog sitter suddenly cancels, citing a case of homesickness as enough cause to abruptly go home. When you first hear news of this, you’re preparing yourself for the return of a mopey, useless Jungkook, too drained from four glorious days in Las Vegas to carry on. What you’re not expecting is the mysterious text he sends you before boarding a five hour flight with no service (he was cheap).

kook still on vegas lockdown. Have that pussy ready when i get home

“The fuck does that mean?” Chaeyoung is the first to see the message, your screen lighting up on the kitchen counter beside you as you scrub through a mountainous pile of dishes. You try to play it off, after all, Chaeyoung had seen parts of you you hadn’t even seen, but there was no worse embarrassment than having your homegirls see your clown of a boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “He’s so romantic,” she swoons, and you shoo her away from the offending device as you wipe your hands down on your t-shirt.

you for what?? One 20 second round 🤥

Chaeyoung suddenly cackles from over your shoulder, and you swear your soul leaves your body.

You don’t get a response until exactly five hours and thirteen minutes later, your phone vibrating like crazy on the edge of your bathtub, and if you hadn’t given it a hearty kick and sent it flying across the room, front screen shattering into the most intricate spider web of glass shards, it would have fallen into the water. The terror.

kook pls pick me up

kook also haha. U r soooo funny 😑

You’re halfway to the airport, idly sitting in traffic and giving the public a free, Beyonce-like experience of The Script’s Breakeven, when you realize you’re not wearing any pants. You’re not exactly sure which part of Jungkook’s long t-shirt had tricked you into believing you were decently dressed, but you’re not too mad. After all, Jungkook’s trip with the boys had been a last minute decision that did not take into consideration your never-ending thirst for your boyfriend, so a little payback never hurt anybody.

He’s sitting on top of his suitcase outside the airport when you get there, cute Birkenstock-clad feet swinging back and forth as he waits for you like the good boy he is. He crouches down by the passenger window, “Uh, yeah, is this the Uber?”

You can’t even bother hiding the smile that consumes your face, and it only grows tenfold when he finally gets in and immediately leans over the center console to kiss you. “Look who’s finally back from their little bachelor party,” you murmur, eyes lidded dangerously low when he breaks away.

“Oh, the party where I accidentally sleep away my life-savings to a stripper named Aries and then have to go home and beg for my wife’s forgiveness?” He responds immediately, devious pink tongue swiping out to lick at your bottom lip.

You snort. “Joke’s on you, because our hot pool boy kept me company and treated me better in four days than my husband had in six years,” you mumble, finger looping into the silver chain around his neck to pull him close again.

“Not our hot pool boy,” he whines, smile pressed adorably to your lips.

You almost retort, but a ten-second horn blast from the car behind you has the two of you jumping three feet from each other, like teenagers caught making out in the school parking lot.

Just as you’d predicted via text, Jungkook barely has the energy to walk up the steps to your apartment, much less fuck you like he’d promised. “Fuck, stop being healthy and let us take the elevator,” he grunts, pushing his suitcase onto the final platform leading to your floor.

“Nope,” you concede. “The stairs give me a good view of your ass going up.”

He shoots you a scandalized look, like you’re an old man who’d just catcalled him on the street. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

It’s when you’re unlocking the front door, sending out a little prayer to the heavens (Chaeyoung) for the blessing of an empty apartment, that he notices your lack of proper clothing. “Oh, hell no,” he groans, immediately crowding you against the armchair nearest the door.

You laugh, struggling to turn to face him as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “What seems to be the problem?”

He sighs against the shell of your ear, and you’d be a liar to say it didn’t send a gush of wetness to your core. Jesus, just a single puff of air from Jungkook was enough to turn your coochie into a Fruit Gusher. “Not your sexy legs again,” he whines, and you giggle when he presses those pouty lips to yours.

“Thought I was supposed to have this pussy ready for you,” you tease, tilting your head up until your noses brush against each other. Jungkook lets a soft huff of a sigh go, eyes fluttering shut at your close proximity.

There’s a hand that creeps along the back of your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin until he finally guides it upwards, hitched over his hip. The new position has your body curving backwards, tilted over the edge of the couch as he continues crowding closer and closer to you. “Baby,” he whines, and the tone and sudden usage of your favorite nickname wipes the teasing smile off your face. “I missed you so much,” he purrs, in that tone that says he knows he has you under his complete control, all he has to do is take care of you.

Still, you try to put up some sort of a fight. “I’m sure your eyes were kept entertained in Vegas,” you retort weakly, not even bothering to hide the jealousy in your tone.

Jungkook laughs, before puckering his lips and smothering you. Instantly, you throw your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hair tickles your face from how long it’s gotten, and when you brush it back, collecting it into a makeshift baby ponytail, you can’t even enjoy the sight because Jungkook is pressing his rock hard member against your inner thigh.

“You think I’m a cheater?” He muses when he finally pulls away, a little entranced by the saliva that coats your lips in a thin sheen. “Couldn’t be even if I wanted to.” Before you can ask what that even means, he’s hauling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his tiny waist, his cock now cradled between your thighs, right where you want him most. You moan immediately, head lolling backwards at the touch you’d craved for days. “Feel that? No one gets my dick hard like you do, baby.”

Even though his adrenaline is on one hundred, and he’s clearly blinded by his lust, Jungkook still sets you down on the bed like you’re made of glass. Any comments you may have made are smothered by his lips on yours, fingers gripping your waist like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his breath is a little heavy where it fans against the lower half of your face.

“So pretty,” he huffs, rolling his hips against yours. You groan, eyes rolling back as the familiar feeling of your boyfriend between your legs consumes you. Jungkook presses his mouth against the skin of your neck, where the faintest sheen of sweat had begun to form the moment you unlocked the front door.

If you thought you were loud, the sounds leaving Jungkook’s throat are teetering on the edge between a pornstar and a yodelling-enthusiast. You can’t help the smirk crossing your features. “Are you really gonna come?”

Jungkook was many things, and drama queen was definitely very high on that list. He gives you the most scandalized expression, stopping the movement of his hips to scoff. “As if,” he snorts, but you know that little eyebrow furrow a little too well.

You snort, reaching down to his sides as you try to discreetly urge him to start up again. “Baby, your jaw is twitching,” you point out, a soft whine leaving your lips when he shifts your leg up. It’s this same sound that has him finally moving again.

“Yeah, well,” he groans, one hand deathly gripping into your hip now, pressing you down onto the bed so hard you feel the comforter will swallow you up any minute now. “I just got my wisdom teeth removed, ‘member?”

Your retort is briefly cut off by the cry you let out when he ducks down to suck a mark beneath your jaw. “M-Months ago,” you weakly respond,

Jungkook ignores you in favor of using his Hulk strength to fold you in half, groans borderline animalistic as he grinds his cock into your soaked panties. His jaw is tight like you’d said, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. He hated coming before you, seldom doing it unless it was one of those rare days where he wanted you to pamper him.

“Fuck,” he grunts, swallowing your pitiful whines before pushing his tongue down your throat. There was something sexy about your boyfriend being so turned on that his saliva production was off the charts. “You’re gonna ask me to do that thing again, aren’t you?” He predicts.

All you can do is nod, and Jungkook smirks. “Ah,” he says, much like a doctor would, and you comply, mouth wide. You see the muscles beneath his jaw twitch, and a moment later he’s leaning over you with puckered lips, a glob of saliva begging to drip down.

The moan that catches in your throat has him smiling, tongue peeking out to cut the bridge of saliva that connected the two of you, and you want to tell him you love him, but then he’s raising his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to swallow, so you do. “Absolutely filthy,” he grins, and then returns to thrusting against you.

As much as you liked to tease him, he’s good at fulfilling the sexual aspects of his boyfriend role, and he guides you to your orgasm moments later. Of course, he does so by toying with your tits just the way you like, lips pressed firmly to yours as you become a boneless heap beneath him. “That’s it, pretty baby,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before he’s shifting back onto his haunches, tugging you closer until the backs of your knees are cradled carefully in his elbows.

Despite your transcended state, you love watching Jungkook get himself off, and your eyes flutter as you watch him thrust sloppily against your soiled panties. They’re soaked by your own arousal, and had Jungkook’s sweats not been as dark as they were, you’re almost certain you’d see how they stained.

He comes a moment later, body twitching and fingers tightening against your skin. His chest heaves, head lolling back as he tries to regain his senses. Silence envelopes the room.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You blurt, no longer able to pretend like something isn’t completely wrong.

Jungkook rolls his neck out, a satisfying crack resounding, as he angles to look at you again. His tongue is poking against his cheek in that cocky way it does sometimes, and he furrows his brows at you. “What?”

You shuffle up onto your elbows, motioning towards him with the vaguest wave possible. He blinks. You groan.

“What did you do?” You question, and immediately his eyes go wide and shiny in that way they do when you’re reprimanding him and he doesn’t see the wrong in his ways.

Cute little lips forming a pout he remains as confused. “Nothing? We really just went to fuck around and get drunk—“

“Kook.”

“You don’t actually think I cheated, I thought we were just joking? Unless…” he trails off, doe eyes suddenly filled with fear. “You weren’t?”

“Jungkook—“

He intercepts you, “did you do something while I was gone? Who was he? Or she? Wow,” he huffs to himself in disbelief. “I don’t even know you well enough to know if you’re into more than just men.” The frown on his face is getting deeper with each word he utters and you almost can’t believe how dumb he could be. “No wonder… am I a terrible boyfriend?” He asks, voice louder and more concerned than it’s been all night.

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You say, and Jungkook looks just as lost by your response as you are with his. “Because I’m talking about whatever this is,” you explain, reaching up to drag a hand through his dual-colored locks.

They’d been carefully tucked under his bucket hat when you’d picked him up, a tuft of blonde peeking out from in front of his ear. It wasn’t until he’d tipped you over the side of the couch that it had tumbled off. Of course, at the time, there had been other pressing matters at hand than wondering why your Hannah Montana blonde boyfriend had returned as Todoroki, which is why you’d waited until now to revisit the topic.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a solid ten seconds. Then, as if processing the emotional episode he’d just given you, he gives you a sheepish smile. It’s one of those smiles where his lips press together thinly and cutely and the apples of his cheeks seem like the squishiest things in the world. “Oh…” he says, voice soft and nothing like the man that spit in your mouth five minutes ago. “You like it?”

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #kpopwonderlandtag #ksmutclub #bts smut #jjk smut #mine #what did i even use to tag with lolol #sc universe #skirtverse #skirtfic

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winifredsandersonsbitch · 4 years

Text

First Up to Bat (Part 2)

Spike x Reader, BTVS

Warnings: mild cursing, implied threats

Description: You may have escaped him the first time, but Spike’s far from done with you.

please forgive me, I’m a slow writer and I’m working full-time hours. I also let this sit in my drafts for a bit bc I wasn’t totally happy with it, but maybe it would feel better as a series?

Over the next few weeks, you settled into the idea of things going bump in the night. After your encounter with the vampire, you start carrying around a few extra supplies in your backpack. You keep holy water in a water bottle (marked with an X on the lid so you won’t sip from it by mistake), a stake you carved out yourself in the outer pocket. Around your neck, you wear a tiny gold cross. You don’t know if it will be a deterrent, but it’s cute, anyway.

You hardly stray from the comfort of the dorms at night now, but when you do you’re prepared. Despite this—or maybe because of it—you haven’t had any other chance encounters with the undead.

Then one night your friend drops you off outside the dorms after a party where you’ve gotten more than a little buzzed, and he’s waiting for you.

Spike.

He seems like the obsessive type, so you aren’t entirely surprised that he’s been keeping tabs on you. When you step out of the car, pausing to pull your jacket more tightly around yourself, you catch a glimpse of movement from the side of the building and a thick waft of cigarette smoke. You tug the holy water from its tiny pocket in your jacket lining, not trusting yourself with the stake you’ve strapped to the inside as drunk as you are.

Spike greets you like an old friend.

Before you can make it up the front steps, he stamps his cigarette out and steps into the light.

“Let me walk you in,” he says, like he has been your date for the evening and has never had any intentions of killing you and draining you dry.

Your hands are unsteady as they uncap the bottle, but you put on your best threatening voice. “Stay the hell away from me.”

“Oh, come on, love. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now.”

“You like to play with your food.”

Your words are quiet, a little more slurred than you’d like, but he beams and takes a step toward you.

“You remembered.”

Some of the water sloshes over the brim of the bottle as you fall back off the edge of the sidewalk in your haste to get away, leaving a damp mark on the concrete that Spike sidesteps. He’s so much lighter on his feet than you are, even when you’re sober. You’re beginning to think that your only options here are to die or transfer immediately out of Sunnydale.

“You don’t have to worry about me tonight, although I am impressed that you came prepared. Is that a stake I spy?”

He’s whirling you around before you can even open your mouth to respond, stripping the jacket off you in one quick and practiced move. He laughs at the pouch you’ve sewn into the lining to house your weapon.

“You’re more clever than I gave you credit for. You could teach that Slayer a thing or two.”

“Leave me alone.”

The vial of holy water is starting to feel like a joke in your hand, but you keep your grip around it tight. Spike doesn’t try to pry it from you, just drapes your jacket over his arm casually.

“Let’s get you inside. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

He puts his arm around you, every bit the concerned gentleman, but his skin is as cold as ice. You flinch at his touch. You can tell he enjoys it.

He steers you to the elevator and then up to your room on the third floor, making small talk all the while. He’s so clearly getting off on your fear, but you can’t clamp down on it. All that you have left is the holy water, and he doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. If anything, you think he likes the threat of it, enjoys the pain.

“This is me,” you say when you reach your door, praying that your roommate is out for the night. You know that Naomi couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone fend off a fully fledged vampire, and you don’t especially want to be responsible for her death.

“You’re not going to invite me in for a nightcap?”

“Do you wa—” The response is so polite and automatic that you almost go through with it, until the part of your brain that’s still working checks itself. “Hey!”

“Worth a shot.” He shrugs, then hands you your jacket. “Sweet dreams, love.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

Probably not the smartest thing to say under the circumstances, but you can’t help it. He’s confused you. You would prefer not to be murdered, yes, but you also don’t want to continue suffering in wondering if he’s going to pop out from every shadowy space in your life.

“Did you want to get bitten this evening? Because that can be arranged.”

He’s wearing the same charming serial killer smile as the first time you ran into him, but something’s off. He’s not as confident, for some reason.

“No.”

You drag your keys out of your pocket and fumble with them awkwardly, switching the holy water to your other hand.

“Need some help there?”

“No, um, I’ve got it,” you mumble, but the keys slip from your fingers onto the floor. You both lean down to reach for them at the same time, knocking foreheads.

“Ouch!”

“Bleeding hell!”

His cry seems sharper than yours, more pained, although you can’t figure out why he wouldn’t have a super pain tolerance to go with the super speed and agility.

You almost ask about it, but you figure it’s best to not provoke him any more than necessary tonight. He gets the door unlocked for you and leaves you with a quiet “goodnight,” his overly dramatic black jacket trailing after him.

You get inside to find Naomi safe and sound, snoring loudly and peacefully with no idea of the darkness that lies just outside.

#spike x reader #btvs #buffy the series #buffy the vampire slayer #fanfiction

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pennylanefics · 4 years

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Disappointed - Johnathan “Dells” Dellamonica

a/n: this isn’t exactly what i wanted it to be, but whatever 🙂 it’s the first thing i’ve written in a week, so it’s a little rough. also the ending sucks bc i didn’t know how to end it. and the title. i spent 10 minutes trying to think of one and literally couldn’t. so it sucks

•••

It’s been a tough year for Dells. He blew the conference playoffs during college, eliminating their team right then and there, so he was obviously very nervous to be getting back after the season ended.

His summer league team just started, which he’s done for a few years already, but this season was different; he was terrified of being humiliated again.

“I don’t want to go,” Dells complains as you lay in bed together in the morning. Dells had his arms wrapped around you tightly, not planning on moving anytime soon, even though he needs to leave in a little while.

“You have to, babe. Ty’s gonna force you to go anyways, and you know what he’s like when he’s mad.” Dells groans and snuggles closer to you, making you smile. He’s always so cuddly and soft in the morning and at night, it’s your favorite.

“But I don’t want to,” he continues.

“Johnathan, get up. You’re going to be late.”

“Will you come with me?” He begs.

“If I say yes will you actually go and have fun while playing?”

“I’ll go, but I can’t promise that I’m going to have fun,” he offers. You shake your head and sit up, making his arms fall onto the bed, where your body just was.

“I’m gonna get up and shower, then we can leave.”

“How about we stay here for a few more minutes, not shower, then get ready? It’s gonna be hot, so why shower and get all nice and dressed up only to sweat like a pig?”

“Pigs don’t sweat,” you reply cheekily. Johnathan laughs and sits up with you.

“You know what I meant. It just doesn’t make sense to shower then go and sit out in the summer heat and sweat, only to come home and shower again.”

“Fine, you make a good point.” Johnathan makes some sort of noise and pulls you back into his arms, flopping back down onto the bed.

“Just a few more minutes,” he whispers.

You were now sitting on the bleachers of the baseball park where the D-Backs are playing. Dells was in the dugout, bored out of his mind as they waited for the rest of the team. To pass the time, you took out a notebook and began to sketch the field, something you usually do during summer league games.

You hear your name being called, and when you look up, you see Dells is standing at the fence. Placing your things in your seat, you hop down to meet him on the other side.

“Hey, is everyone here yet?” You greet him with a kiss.

“No. Maz isn’t here, but you know how I told you that he was being scouted by multiple teams?”

“Yeah?”

“The draft was today, and he wasn’t picked.”

“Damn,” you mumble. Johnathan seems very upset over this; you know how close the team is and Maz is basically like a brother to Dells. He was excited to see him get drafted, the whole team was, really.

You take a hold of Johnathan’s hands and squeeze them, letting him know that you’re here for him.

“Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No, we have some in the dugout. I just needed to see you.” You smile and reach up to cup his cheek. He nuzzles into it and closes his eyes.

“You better stay awake, Dells. Ty will be pissed if you’re falling asleep during a game.”

“Well don’t caress my cheek like that.” A laugh escapes your lips and you drop your hand.

“Good luck out there,” you say, leaning up to give him a kiss. He holds you there for a few more seconds before backing away, facing you the entire time until he disappears into the dugout. You take your spot back on the bleachers and wait for the game to start.

The D-Backs were a bit rough today. Dells wasn’t at his best, everyone was off and distracted, resulting in them losing pretty badly.

Dells tried his hardest to throw strikes. But as the game went on, he started losing his energy, just as he did during the conference playoffs in college. As soon as you started to notice he was slowly breaking down, you knew the game wasn’t going to end well.

And as you expected, the D-Backs ended up losing five to one. Dells was visibly upset and distraught, almost beating himself up. You walk back to your car and wait for your boyfriend, ready for a long night of talking, cuddling, and comforting.

The team finally walked up the stairs from the field, trudging and dragging their legs; they looked exhausted and heartbroken. Dells was the last one, far behind everyone else. He kept his head down as he stepped into the passenger seat of your car.

You quickly say goodbye to everyone else, comforting them in their own ways, especially Maz. Ty gives you a sympathetic look while motioning to your boyfriend, patting your back before you get into your car.

The drive home was silent. You didn’t want to bring the game up, knowing it would just upset Johnathan, but you also didn’t know how to make him feel better until he told you what was wrong, on a deeper level than just losing the game.

Arriving back at your place, you let Dells do his own thing, thinking that he wanted to be alone for a while. But to your surprise, he stays by your side.

“Take a shower with me?” He softly asks, The hurt in his eyes and the breaking in his voice make you cave in right away. So, you two strip and stand under the warm shower stream, letting Dells lean against you and just hold you close to him.

He doesn’t say anything, only asking if you can wash his hair and if he can wash yours. You go along with whatever he wants to do, wanting to keep him happy.

Once you’re finished with your shower, you get dressed in a t-shirt of Johnathan’s and a pair of shorts. You climb under the covers and try to figure out how to bring today’s events up, but Dells catches your attention.

He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. Sighing, you scoot over and gently run your hands up his bare back, resting your head against his broad shoulder.

“Babe, lay down. You’ve had a really tough day, you deserve the rest.” It was silent for a moment before he spoke up.

“Do I?” You’re slightly taken aback by his unexpected response.

“Yeah, you do. You did the best you could today and-”

“That’s the thing, (Y/N)! I didn’t!” He turns around to face you. “I did the same thing that happened at STAC. I blew our chances of winning.”

“You can’t beat yourself up over this, Dells. You guys will have next year. Please, come lay down with me?” He sighs heavily before turning his bedside light off, crawling under the covers with you. You pull him right into your arms and begin to stroke his back softly.

“It’s gonna be okay, babe. I’m sure the guys aren’t upset with you. Everyone was off and wasn’t at their best. Don’t feel bad.”

“In the middle of the game, Ty came up to me and told me that he wasn’t going to take me out of the game. Then demanded that I don’t make him look stupid. But guess what I did? Made him look stupid.”

“Johnathan, stop. Again, I’m sure he was just annoyed with Maz not being drafted and the other team being completely new.”

“Still.”

“How about tomorrow we make plans with the guys and get some closure from this game? Talk things out now that everyone has had the night to let things settle in. You up for that?” You wonder, reaching up to thread your fingers through Dells’ hair; it was his favorite thing in the world, you playing with his hair.

“Yeah. I just don’t want them to be upset with me. I tried my hardest-”

“And you did a great job. Everyone saw that you were trying your hardest, okay? And Ty can’t stay mad at you for long, honestly. He’s your brother.”

“I hope. Will you come with me if the guys agree to it?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You want to talk about anything else? Get anything off your mind?” You ask, knowing that there was more to his sadness.

“No, just keep holding me and I’ll be fine. I’m already feeling a lot better.” You grin and tighten your grip a little, continuing to play with his hair.

“Everything will be okay, Dells. I promise.”

“Thank you for being such an amazing girlfriend,” he whispers into your neck, placing a few kisses to the spots he could reach.

He sighs heavily and closes his eyes. Eventually, he falls right asleep as you text the entire team about the idea you had, continuing to play with his hair as he slept.

#dells #johnathan dellamonica #dells imagines #dells x reader #undrafted #tyler hoechlin #tyler hoechlin imagine #tyler hoechlin x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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willowistic22 · 4 years

Note

I’ll just give you a quote and do with it what you will. “They said my light was beautiful, so they lit me on fire from both ends just to watch me burn.”

The first drabble request i finally finished from the dozens of other requests i’ve drafted (thanks btw). to be completely honest, idk what that quote means and i might’ve interpret it wrong. tried to look up if there was a double meaning to it and hit a brick wall so if this fic contradicts from the real meaning i apologize. and also i hope you don’t mind for some spromeo stuff :D EnJOyy!!!

Send me some prompts with a ship/character bcs i couldn’t find a prompt list i like enough to rb (or not i’m not the boss of you lol)

A blanket wrapped around his body as he listens to the rain pouring all morning. He delicately holds his cup of warm honey lemon, occasionally blowing the heat out to cool it down bit by bit so he can drink it without burning his tongue. But Specs keeps his distance to avoid any inconvenience towards his glasses caused by the steam.

Rapid footsteps can be heard getting closer from the corridor. Slightly muffled, like the feet are wrapped in socks. Specs opens his eyes from enjoying the momentary peace and quiet. Well, it’s not like he dreads to see the owner of said feet running to the small living room.

“Okay, okay, I think I finally got it!” Romeo holds his laptop with one hand while the other makes a dramatic gesture, though it’s not clear what he’s doing because of the extra large hoodie enveloping his torso and limbs. It compliments his energetic smile towards the taller boy.

Specs chuckles through a tight lipped smile, raising an eyebrow as he beholds the sight of his boyfriend in front of the TV.

Romeo starts to read out his resume he has been struggling with ever since he’s going to be applying to a new job. Specs couldn’t help but smile at his antics, but he still kept his ears opened to the words. Very dramatic words. Maybe it’s just him pouring out his inner child spirit, oddly enough, to a formal document that he needs to take seriously.

“... They said my light was beautiful, so they lit me on fire from both ends just to watch me burn!”

The end of his resume is the cherry on top for the most-over-dramatic-resume-in-history. Specs gives him a weird look upon hearing what he had come up.

Romeo slouches, his whole face drooped as well. He walks over to Specs’ open arms, dropping his whole weight on him but stayed careful enough to not let the drink in Specs’ hand spill.

“This is hopeless! I’m going to stay jobless forever...”

Romeo had sent a resume to his dream job. It was about time his journalism major finally became useful, since he’s been working as a barista for so long. He went through an interview and was more than sure that he was going to get it. But it was radio silence for weeks and he can’t keep on relying on Specs for income.

“You’ve got a long history with making caffeinated drinks, I’m sure you can do something with that if this doesn’t work out”

It was meant to be comforting with a hint of humor. But Romeo just sinks in deeper to Specs’ warmth under the blanket. Specs puts a hand around his shoulders, nuzzling his face into Romeo’s jet black hair with a small smile painting his face.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s not the end of the world!” Specs lifts Romeo’s body up so he can properly sit up.

Romeo simply pouts, still holding grasping the laptop on his lap with one hand, “It might as well be...”

“Well, my morning just started. I wouldn’t want a meteor crashing into our house before I get some breakfast” Specs got up, slipping away from Romeo’s weight whilst still holding on his drink. He gets up to stride towards their little kitchen.

He turns his face towards the couch, hoping to see Romeo following him. But on the contrary, he still slumps deeper in his sadness. Placing himself in between the huge couch cushions.

Specs giggles a little, smiling thoughtfully with a side head tilt. He approaches the couch form behind and leans in next to Romeo’s ear, “I’ll make some pancakes!”

Romeo twists his head slowly to meet Specs’. The pout hasn’t left, but there’s a glint of joy behind his eyes. Soon enough, it’ll be fully visible on the surface, “Pancakes sound nice”

Specs chuckles, “Put the laptop away then you can sit back and wait for your pancakes”

Romeo nods, pulling his lips into a small smile. He gets off the couch with his laptop, tracing back his footsteps to get to their bedroom. Specs lifts himself back up to get back to his original intentions. He places the cup on the kitchen island to give him an extra hand to help him grab all the ingredients for the batter.

“Oh, and please change out of that hoodie! You haven’t change into anything ever since you woke up!” Specs called out without turning away from the bowl in front of him.

He waits quietly for some form of scold echoing through the hallway. But it was radio silence. It’s odd because any time Specs would try to get him out of what he was wearing to bed last night, Romeo would protest instantly.

The quietness settled in too weirdly on Specs’ stomach. He had stopped measuring the milk as he tries to concentrate to locate any form of response. He faces away from the counter and calls out, “Romeo?”

Nothing.

Specs puts everything down and takes a walk to the bedroom. The wooden floor creeks every few steps he takes. The bedroom door is wide open, with a streak of light from the bedroom window reflecting on the floor. Specs approaches with caution.

There was a slight worry sitting in him when Romeo didn’t answer, but it faded away as soon as he sees his boyfriend present. He sees him sitting up right on the edge of the bed, a phone to his ear. He seems very intense and focused on the phone call, which would explain why he didn’t reply to Specs in the first place.

Specs leans his whole weight on his shoulder against the door frame, waiting for him to explain the intensity.

Romeo’s face lit up with a gasps all of a sudden. Specs is getting more intrigued by the phone call, slowly approaching him.

“Yes, yes, thank you so much! I can’t wait!” Romeo ended the call. He turns to Specs with the hugest grin ever and screams, “I GOT THE JOB!”

“What?! You did?!” Specs jaws dropped into a huge smile.

Romeo frantically nods before crashing into Specs for a huge hug, standing on the tip of his toes to reach for his neck. Specs lifts him up by the waist and twirls him, laughing together before the crash landed on their bed.

All of a sudden, the rain pouring outside isn’t as sorrowful and hopeless as Romeo defined it being. Their morning pancake will now be turning into a big celebratory breakfast!

#newsies #drabble requests #spromeo #spromeo newsies #specs newsies #romeo newsies

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theblekromantik · 5 years

Text

Rebirth -- 1

a/n: hello loves! ive written somethinnnnnnnngg im kinda excited about it bc i struggle with writing usually but i wrote this quicker than everything else ive done. i hope you enjoy! (dont mind while i flex my four years of french on you lol)

word count: 1.1k

warnings: none

post-infinity war! pre-endgame! oc!reina fennel

“Ugh!” The woman exclaims. In front of her, there is an open document, which is blank except for a word written in a small front: « Sans titre » and under it, « Reina Fennel ».

Wide shot. The room is dark except for the glowing light of the computer and subtle streaks of dusk creeping in from closed blinds. And further, there are coffee cups. Several coffee mugs. Some tall, some short, some knocked over, some resting on unconventional surfaces, like the fish tank across the room. Reina shifts in her seat, and papers crumble: the scrapped ideas of yesterday rendering only useful as an uncomfortable seat cushion. It is clear that she has been at this for a considerable amount of time, perhaps days.

She exclaims once more, and BANG! Her hand goes on the smooth metal of the computer’s surface. She holds her head in her hands, pulling at the satin scarf tied around her hair.

I need a break, Reina tells herself, deciding to ignore the draft altogether. Rubbing her tired eyes, she emerges from her place on the couch and heads to the kitchen. She waters the small succulents on the small windowsill before filling the kettle and putting it on the hot stove. This is her life. And as mundane as it is, Reina loves it. She’s a plant mother, and there’s no duty more rewarding that.

KNOCK! KNOCK! Zoom on the door to her apartment.

She scrunches her eyebrows, curious as to who may be at the door, for since after The Great War, Reina decided to move out of the country to someplace on the outskirts of Paris. And she rarely had visitors.

« Qui est là ? » She inquires, grabbing a wooden baseball bat from behind the fridge and creeping her way to the door.

No response.

« Allô ? » But still, nothing. She grips the bat even tighter, her hands sure to form callouses the next day.

The knob to the door begins shaking as a dull whirring begins to sound from the outside.

Slowly, she begins to reach for the handle, but –

BOOM! The door bursts from its hinges on the wall and makes a deafening splat onto the ground. And through the specks of dust, there is nothing other than a battered robot with an “A” imprinted onto its left breast. The Avengers A. And subsequently, Tony Stark, appears from behind it. Grey hair grows from his temples and the wrinkles adjacent to his eyes have only become deeper, more prominent as he smiles a tight smile at her.

“Took you long enough,” He remarks, entering her home by stepping onto the fallen door.

“T-Tony?” Reina stammers, the bat colliding with the ground.

It has been years since she saw him last. Since her friends had been evaporated into nothing but dust. And in these years, Rei tried to put the past behind her, purging the memories and nightmares of Thanos snapping his golden-clad thumb, Vision taking his last breath before exploding into thin air, and the grasslands of Wakanda no longer green and vibrant but drenched in red blood. Not only the blood of her enemies, but also her own teammates. And she succeeded. She really did, becoming a writer at a popular French newspaper, Le Parisien. But Tony’s presence sends all of it crashing back, an ache forming in her mind.

Looking back at her, he shrugs, “I’ll have it replaced.”

Beat. Tony says, “I love what you’ve done with the place. Real homey.”

She should respond, but the words are trapped in her throat. So, she stares, studying him as he walks from her kitchen to her living area, picking up pictures in their frames along the way.

“Well,” He begins. “You’re welcome. You know, this is no way to treat a guest, Rei.”

But she can only look at him with disbelief. “How did you find me?”

He doesn’t answer. “I really do love what you have here, Rei, really.” A decoration on the wall catches his eye. “See! A poster that says,” He picks it up, « Ècrire, c’est une façon de parler sans être interrompu. » You’re a writer now? You? Assassin to…writer is quite a demotion, don’t you think?”

Zoom on the kettle as it screeches loudly from the kitchen, but Reina doesn’t break her concentration on the man.

“How did you find me?” She repeats, growling, each word more ferocious than the last.

“You can’t expect that it was difficult. I mean, with my technology and the fact that you didn’t even change your name…You must’ve wanted me to find you. Tea?” Tony sets two mugs on the kitchen table and pours them full of green tea.

“If I did, I would’ve never left. Now leave.”

“Can’t, sorry.”

“I swear, if you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.” Heat brews within her, her skin becoming hot.

“You can’t call the police if you don’t have a phone, N’est-ce pas?” He, with his head, instructs the robot to cut the cord connected to her landline.

“Then I’ll go.” Reina grabs her black leather jacket from the coatrack and makes her way to the door. She shrugs it on, the cool of the jacket doing little to pacify her.

“Stop her,” he orders the robot, it blocking the space in front of the entryway. “You have to hear me out.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“Please,” he begs, his voice full of desperation, “Just sit.”

Reina eyes him, dubiously. She hadn’t seen Tony this distressed since before the battle, in his lab, sleep deprived, scanning over mission strategies and sketches for new weapons and uniforms. But finally—

She sits from across him, cupping the steaming mug of tea.

It is silent, the only sound the buzzling streets of Paris.

“Why are you here?” Reina probed, her eyes piercing into his, searching for an answer to this disruption. Truly, she didn’t want to know, for she feared the answer would further complicate her life, the life created for herself as a normal person, free from the burden of defending the human race from whatever domestic or galactic threat came its way.

“We have a problem. And I need your help.” There it is.

Reina didn’t care about what he needed. The day left she knew what she was leaving behind. She couldn’t stand the pain and grief painted her teammates faces, knowing that everyone gone would never come back. The only thing she regretted leaving was Steve, her heart throbbing every time she thought of him and the love they shared. But after a year, that feeling faded. She convinced herself that it was all for the best. They all just had to understand that she was never going back.

She marches to her the bedroom—

“Reina!”

—and shuts the door.

Sans titre – without title; untitled

Qui est là ? – Who’s there?

Allô ? – hello?

Ècrire, c’est une façon de parler sans être interrompu. -- Writing is a way to talk without being interrupted. (Jules Renard)

N’est-ce pas ? – isn’t it so?; right?

#oc!reina fennel #marvel #infinity war #original character #post-infinity war #avengers #avengers x reader #endgame #pre-endgame #black!oc #black!reader #poc!#poc!reader #black woman reader #black #marvel fandom #kris writes

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nine-prcnt · 5 years

Text

late night slips, early morning corrections

requested by @yumesagashite

i think as much as xukun likes have things planned and prepared and be ready for whatever is going to come his way, this would be more spontaneous

he’d be exhausted after a long day of practice and hours in the recording booth for the next mini album, collapsing into bed next to you who is supposed to be sleeping

i dont think that xukun would be very vocal about how much he loves you but it would be extremely apparent in his actions as he would always consider what you wanted or felt before doing anything and he would make sure that if he couldn’t make an occasion such as a date that you would know as early as possible bc he really wanted to make this relationship work

he would make sure that you had a date night every month and try to spend as much time with you as possible so that the apartment you shared wouldn’t seem empty a lot of the time you were there

this has suddenly turned in of xukun as a boyfriend or partner wow

but he would lie down next to you and kind of just look at you, bc recently he hadn’t been around as much as he would have liked to be but you understood and he sent messages throughout the day to let you know that he was thinking of you

it would be very late and you are in that middle ground of not able to move bc your body feels so heavy but also mostly aware of your surroundings and you’d notice xukun next to you

he’d get up though to go shower bc he can’t sleep if he is all sticky and dirty from his sweat and so you just keep trying to go to sleep

not that much later he comes back out and lays next to you, staring at you again for a few minutes in silence before he finally lets it slip

‘i’m so in love with you’

he places a kiss on your forehand before turning over and finally sleeping and getting the rest that all of them need bc they neeed to stay healthy jfc

in the morning, you wake up first and stay in bed for a few moments where you remember the sudden confession of xukun’s from the middle of last night, you smile to yourself and glance down at the sleeping boy next to you. you can’t help but run your fingers through his hair and ruffle it, making it slightly more messy than it was already

he starts to move at your touch, cracking open an eye to peer up at you and a half sleeping smile breaks onto his face

‘good morning baby’

‘kunkun,’ you croon at him.

he moves his arm so that his hand is resting on your thigh as he rubs small circles onto your bared skin, enjoying the heat that radiated from you. he sees the slightly blank but nonetheless warm gaze your eyes are holding and he nudges you softly

‘what is it babe?’

‘you love me?’

your voice takes on a teasing tone and he buries his head in between your thigh and the bed to hide his flushed cheeks.

‘you heard that?’ it’s muffled but you hear it all the same.

you chuckle and leave the boy in your bedroom and go to the kitchen, allowing him some time to collect himself before he faces you again

by the time he leaves the room and enters the kitchen you’ve busied yourself with cooking some eggs among other things for breakfast but the two of you are soon finished breakfast and quietly enjoying the first morning in a while where xukun hasn’t had to rush out the door early in the morning

he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head and the two of you stay like that for a long time until you break the silence

‘kun?’

he hums a soft response as he breathes in your scent

‘do you love me?’

he pulls back and for a second all that runs through his mind are panicked thoughts. was this all a mistake, do you not love him? has he pushed you too far by trying to make you say it?

you slowly turn around, looking up at him with a glow in your eyes and break into a soft smile when you read the worry from his face

‘yes i love you, all of you and nothing less.’

so apparently i have had this completed and everything, just sitting in my drafts for the past like half a year??? okay what is wrong with me? im sorry doll that this has come so fricking late! idk if i’m going to do the other requests in my ask box who knows, idk if any of y’all will see this anyway but lemme know

masterlist // rules // wips

#ninepercentnet #cai xukun #nine percent #nine percent aus #nine percent bulletlist #nine percent writing #nine percent imagines #idol producer #idol producer imagines #nine percent scenarios #idol producer scenarios #idol producer writing #idol producer aus #idol producer bulletlist

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hyuwujin · 6 years

Text

camp w/ stray kids - jeongin

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: camp!au; fluff

length: 1.4k words

warnings: so much fluff, you might barf

a/n: this has been in my drafts forever but i never wanted to post it bc i didn’t really like it since im not used to the whole bullet point fic thing asdfgh lmk what you think!!! also @felixthekoala wants jeongin stuff tagged to her, so cait, you’re welcome ;) ly boo. this is also inspired by @luvknow‘s barista au (BRUH THAT WHOLE AU IS THE BOMB READ IT NOW!) in a way where each memaber has a specific role and i wanted to give the bullet point format a try.

counselor for 7-8 year olds

~ is a c.i.t. bc he’s not old enough to be a real counselor ~ ~ plays with the kids a l o t ~ ~ is the one giving snacks out ~ ~ really steals the snacks all the time tbh ~

so first thing’s first

jeongin is a c.i.t aka a counselor in training since he’s not old enough to be a full counselor

which is totally fine with him bc let’s be real. as cute as this boy may be around babies, do y’all really trust him with the safety of twenty little kids?

yeah i think NOT

so he’s usually responsible for cleaning up after the kids have lunch, handing out snacks and just playing with them during free time.

and he can’t complain

he has fun with it.

don’t tell his fellow coworkers and counselors, seungmin and minho that the kids prefer jeongin over them

it must be his charming smile and interactiveness with the children

he’d be found anywhere the kids were

even during his breaks, he could be found coloring next to a group of kids or helping another group build a lego tower

but by far jeongin’s favorite part of the job has to be the snacks

yes, he hands them out to the kids like he’s supposed to

but that doesn’t mean he can’t have some, right?

so he’s often found in the food cupboard, grabbing handfuls of each tub of assorted snack for his own

and then you come along and catch him red handed

you, a counselor/c.i.t for the older girls ranging from 9 to 13, were sent down to the 7 to 8 year olds’ area of play to get some food since the older girls ran out

and you just walk in seeing this guy around your age stuffing food into his pockets and a mouth full of pretzels is just???

“uhm, hi?”

the boy jumps in horror, turning to see who had caught him.

“I DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING!” was the boy’s reply and you couldn’t help but scrunch your nose up, watching as some pieces of food escaped his mouth through his muffled shriek

“i’m not saying you did,” you replied smoothly, walking closer to get a look at the assortment of snacks in the cupboard. “mind if i take some for the older girls?”

it was then, when you were standing right beside him, that jeongin registered what was going on.

oh...you were cute.

swallowing the large mouthful, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “y-yeah, sure! just...don’t tell anyone I’m secretly stealing food.”

peering at his staff shirt, you shrugged, “you work here. doesn’t that give you a valid excuse to be eating food? i’m sure you won’t get in trouble.”

jeongin didn’t reply but simply nodded his head acknowledging what you said. and then mentally smacking himself in the head by realizing you looked like you needed help carrying the three tubs of snacks, he instinctively outstretched his arms.

“need help with that?”

“huh?” you had totally forgotten he was standing beside you and assumed he just left you.

“it’s just...you look like you’re struggling so...”

“oh! well, could you? i could make two trips if i have to, if you’re too busy. that’s al––”

“woah, no! i want to help. besides, busy? you just caught me sneaking the camp’s food into my freaking pockets.”

the boy took two of the tubs out of your hands, leaving you to only carry one of them. the walk to the girl’s common area––it was basically the center between all the girls’ sleeping cabins––was a long one so you were hoping the boy would initiate some sort of conversation to make the tension less noticeable.

“i’m jeongin by the way,” the boy introduced, smiling at you cutely.

oh boy, you thought, cute smile? just end me now.

“y/n.” you couldn’t help but grin back.

“so you’re a counselor/c.i.t. for the older girls? how’s that?”

raising your eyebrows in thought, you shrugged, “it’s fine. the girl’s are super competitive with each other which is both a positive and a negative and they could be pretty bratty. but aside from that, it’s a fun job. You? you’re with the younger ones?”

“yeah,” jeongin hummed with a soft smile. “they’re just too dang cute! and they haven’t really grown enough to be complete troublemakers so they’re not that hard to deal with.”

the two of you talked about anything and everything that popped into your minds and for what felt like two minutes was actually much longer than that.

you arrived at the girls’ section of the campground and you involuntarily pouted.

it was a shame you had to say bye to the cute boy.

“i uh...hope i see you around?” jeongin stammered, the latter part of his statement sounding more like a question.

smiling back at him, you nodded, “you, too.”

and you did.

in fact, you almost saw the guy daily after that.

you often sneaked to the younger kids’ common area to find jeongin and to your content, most times he was there. other times, he would actually use his break to find you wherever you were.

“y/n!” he’d shout with glee, grinning widely when he saw you show up.

soon enough, fellow counselors would catch on to the two of you and your blossoming friendship and of course, they would ship.

“i saw your girlfriend today,” chan, who was a counselor for the older boys, teased his younger friend.

“hyung~” jeongin would whine, covering his flushed cheeks.

unbeknownst to him, you were receiving the same pestering.

“you should come by more often,” minho blurted when you were randomly passing him by on one of the fields.

“huh?”

“jeongin does a really good job when you’re around...like he’s trying to impress you or something,” minho shrugging before smirking, “think about it.” and then he’d leave with a wink.

and to make things more embarrassing for the two of you, the campers started to catch on.

“y/n and jeongin aren’t even counselors for the same group and they hang out all the time,” you once heard one of the older girls whisper in a hushed tone to another girl when you were walking along one of the camp trails.

“aren’t they cute together?!” the other girl shrieked causing you to choke on your own breath. then they’d snap their gaze to you and sheepishly giggle and scamper off.

you stood, blushing a bright red, with only one thought

i have to settle this between us

“so,” you mumbled, sitting on the opposite side of jeongin on the wooden cafeteria bench and table.

his head shot up like a deer in headlights and he was trying not to blush even being in your presence.

“h-hey y/n!”

“what’s up?” your eyebrows were furrowed, noticing how nervous the boy looked.

“n-nothing. my hyungs just keep bothering me and i think it’s getting to me...”

groaning in remembrance, you rolled your eyes, “gosh, same. they sure like to tease me.”

“what did they tease you about?” jeongin piped, avoiding all eye contact with you.

“you,” your reply was blunt and you looked like you were hardly fazed.

but boy, were you shaking on the inside.

“me?”

“mhm, something about visiting you more and making you happy,” you shrugged, pinching your thigh under the table to stop from grinning at the thought.

“oh...”

“you?”

“huh?”

“what do they bother you about?”

“...you...”

“...oh.”

ASLJSDLK

“how so?” you couldn’t help but ask, tracing aimlessly on the table.

swallowing the lump in his throat, jeongin smiled sheepishly, “they call you my girlfriend.”

“oh,” you nodded absentmindedly before your ears perked up. “wait what now?”

“they refer to you as my girlfriend,” he repeated, looking away from you.

lowering your eyebrows to knit them together, you replied flatly, “and that bothers you?”

“yes! wait no, not like that. it does but...ugh,” jeongin covered his face with hands in frustration.

“but?”

“it’s just a reminder that you’re actually not.”

for the first time, jeongin turned to look at you dead in the eyes.

“would...would you like me to be?” you mumbled, looking around the cafeteria, wondering if anyone was actually watching the cringey exchange.

and of course, his hyungs were your audience.

half of them had there thumbs up, wearing wide grins and nods of encouragement.

the other half, well, they looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but there with their covered faces and scrunched up noses.

“we uh, have an audience so please save me the embarrassment and don’t say no––”

“i wasn’t going to,” jeongin smiled softly, cutting you off.

#sk-writersnet #straykidznet #stray kids #stray kids one shots #stray kids jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin #jeongin one shot #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids fics #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fake chat #stray kids fake snaps #stray kids edit #stray kids fluff #jeongin fluff

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morningsound15 · 6 years

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How do you think Beca would handle her fame in perdition? We know all the gossip magazines like to make up stuff about celebrity couples and that talk show hosts and interviewers like to prod, do you reckon Beca would be open about her relationship with Chloe bc that’s something she’s wanted for so long, and therefore would scream from the rooftops that she’s in love with Chloe Beale and that she’s hers?

i know this wasn’t your intention anon but congratulations you got a drabble i just wrote in like 3 hours:

(P.S. If you love Stevie as much as I do, PLEASE watch this video of her singing “Wild Heart” while getting her makeup done for a Rolling Stone photo session. It will change your life.)

[COVER STORY]: Beca Mitchell on Her Newest Album, Coming Out & Finding Love. “I’m bisexual, and I’m proud of it.”By Sydney Havershaw

You probably wouldn’t recognize Beca Mitchell if she walked past you on the street. Her personal style is more ‘early-20’s grunge rock enthusiast’ than ‘Grammy Award-winning musician.’ She’s dressed comfortably for our interview — in a pair of skinny jeans, combat boots, and an oversized flannel shirt. Mitchell seems perpetually youthful, and among the crowd of college students around us, she fits right in. At 5’2”, she is also certainly an unassuming figure on the street. “I’m basically a hobbit,” she jokes early in our interview, when situation demands we perch on a set of barstools while we wait for our lunch table. Mitchell’s feet dang comically off the floor, and she swings them absent-mindedly while we get to know each other.

The restaurant where we meet is a tiny hole-in-the-wall Italian bistro — the space is so small it can barely fit 6 tables and the mini-bar it confusingly insists on forcing into the already-crowded room — but it’s a favorite of Mitchell’s (who made me adamantly swear to reveal neither the name nor location of her personal haunt). The little building is charming and rustic and somehow both out-of-place and perfectly nestled within its surroundings. The atmosphere is exquisite. I find myself nearly anxious to grab my pen and begin scribbling down notes.

There’s something easy about being around Mitchell. She has this awkward energy that makes her seem jumpy but also strangely endearing. She’s quick to crack jokes and put herself down for the benefit of the group dynamic. Though her proclivity to make fun of herself is startling at first, her wit and sincerity ultimately triumph, becoming the adjectives which immediately come to mind whenever her name is mentioned in my presence thereafter. Before we even order our food she’s had me in stitches twice, both times with stories about some of her more raucous adventures with her all-female college acapella group, The Barden Bellas (more on them later). She’s an excellent storyteller, if not excellently verbose, and I cannot wait to see what she might have in store for our interview.

It’s a bright afternoon in early March, with clear skies and only the barest hint of a chill in the air. It’s beautiful, and the subtle feeling of spring is beginning to emerge in outfit choices, store inventory, and menu changes. But while most people tend to feel energized and rejuvenated with the promise of new beginnings, Mitchell is still practically reeling from the relative whirlwind of the previous month. She won a Grammy, came out, and started a new relationship — and that was all just in one day!

“I feel like everything changed overnight. I went from being, like, a club DJ to now, I’m at the point where people literally stop me on the street for pictures.” She laughs and shakes her head, like she can’t quite believe it. “It’s been completely nuts.”

For those who may be unaware: after a very public Grammys acceptance speech earlier this year, Mitchell was caught locking-lips with her date, Chloe. [Note: While their relationship is not a secret, and the identity of Mitchell’s partner can be easily found, Mitchell requested we leave Chloe’s last name out of this article for the sake of her privacy.]

Almost immediately, Mitchell’s name-recognition sky-rocketed. The image of the kiss circulated countless gossip websites, made headlines in newspapers around the country, and became a trending topic on Twitter. Videos of the night played on nearly every morning talk show. Mitchell’s social media following almost tripled overnight. Suddenly, and without warning, Mitchell has found herself at the center of a media blitz caused by her very public — and incredibly adorable (link) — public coming out. Seriously, if you haven’t seen the video of her acceptance speech yet (have you been living under a rock?) go watch it right now. You’ll cry, you’ll laugh, you’ll squeal, you’ll fall in love.

[image]

Pictured: Beca Mitchell [left] and partner kissing on the red carpet.

Since we both know where this interview is eventually headed (it would be impossible not to talk about it at some point), I figure I should ask: does she want to talk about her relationship first?

She shrugs, her leg bouncing under the table. “I don’t know. No? The… I always think of myself as an artist, first. And my personal life is my personal life. But, you guys are, like… the gay magazine. I can’t imagine it won’t come up.”

Her confidence from earlier has all-but vanished. Perhaps because her music carries with it the easy, confident maturity of an artist with twice her experience, it’s easy to forget she’s still new at this. In order to put her at ease, I start off with a few softball questions, things to get her excited and make her more comfortable with where our interview is going.

Her favorite musician growing up? She smiles, looking much less anxious. “I think this probably is gonna hurt my rep, but I gotta go with Stevie.”

“Nicks?” I ask. This is surprising to me, though perhaps it shouldn’t be. While Mitchell’s music is pretty reliably ‘Pop’, it also shows evidence of clear influence from eclectic styles of music, including jazz and alternative.

“Absolutely. She was my childhood crush. And like, she’s totally everything that I want to be, as a musician. First time I listened to the album Rumours I thought, ‘God, that’s just about the most tragic thing I’ve ever heard.’ It’s the story of a relationship falling apart, the dissolution of a marriage, about cheating and heartbreak and mistrust. But it’s also about optimism, and joy. And… well, to me, it’s also about love. And I used to sit there and listen to that album and think, ‘That’s what I want. If I can produce a piece of music even half as emotional, half as complete, I’ll be happy.’ My entire life, all I’ve ever wanted is just one great love story to tell.”

She’s passionate when talking about her music. She seems energized and excited, like she’s thrilled that anyone at all is interested in her music in any capacity. Because it seems like her preferred topic of discussion, I keep asking her questions about her most recent work. Her favorite song on the album? “Oh, that one’s easy,” she says. “Gotta be ‘Saudade’.”

Saudade is a Portuguese word that roughly translates to a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia. It is a word closely associated with Brazilian music and Brazilian culture. Its most famous usage in pop culture comes from the famous Antônio Carlos Jobim Bossa Nova song “Chega de Saudade” (the published English version is titled “No More Blues”). Mitchell uses the chord changes of Jobim’s chart as the basis for her own melody. This is a common musical practice amongst jazz composers (similar to what ’sampling’ is to Hip Hop and R&B artists), but much less prevalent in Mitchell’s more Pop-dominated genre.

“Saudade” is an early stand-out on Mitchell’s album. It’s a melancholy affair, with a Latin/Bossa drum feel that immediately conjures images of warm summer nights. And to round out the nostalgia of the instrumentals, the song’s lyrics are almost as haunting as the vocal work. Cynthia-Rose Adams, one of the album’s main featured artists, manages to evoke a quiet, unendurable kind of heartbreak while still keeping her performance subtle and subdued. The piece is more than a little impressive. It truly is a masterclass in sad, mournful, longing ballads, and puts more popular efforts by artists like Adele completely to shame. If it isn’t on every teenage girl’s “breakup playlist” by the end of the year, I would be shocked.

But when asked about her preference for that song, Mitchell’s response is less-confident than the quickness of her earlier answer would imply. “I work with a lot of really incredible musicians. My friend, Cynthia-Rose [Adams], who actually provides vocals for that track, she’s a trained jazz vocalist. She’s listed as a co-writer for that song because it’s really all because of her that it has any kind of melody. I showed her a bunch of lyrics really early on, back when I was still work-shopping, and she was in the room with me when I was writing the first draft. But, God, it was terrible.” She laughs again (always willing to joke at her own expense). “No, for real, it was… horrible. So cliché and dumb. But Cynthia just kind of on a whim suggested we try to craft a love ballad using the chord changes of Chega, and I listened to it one time and then it’s like I couldn’t stop writing. It all just poured out of me. The music tied to the lyrics and back again. It’s like the song always existed, and I just was the first person to hear it and write it down.” She pauses, as if she’s only just realizing how long she’s been speaking. “But really,” she says quickly, “without the performance Cynthia puts out on that track, it just… I couldn’t have done it with any other singer. I’m so grateful for her.”

This is a common feature of our interview. Mitchell is almost reluctant to take sole credit for her own music. At every turn she’s thanking her vocalists, her sound engineers, and her co-producers. It belies the incredible amount of time and energy and dedication she put into crafting this album. Anyone who works with Mitchell will also be sure to note both her work ethic and her unyielding attention to detail. Talking to her, you might think a great many things about her character, but ‘immodest’ would certainly not be one of them.

When I ask how she met her collaborators — specifically Adams and Emily Junk, the album’s other featured vocalist — Mitchell grins wider than she has all afternoon. The ease immediately returns to her body. She relaxes in her chair, lounging back with her legs crossed over the knee. She seems like any other 20-something again. You never would guess that, a few short weeks ago, she was a trending topic on Twitter.

“I met Cynthia and Emily in college. They were in the same acapella group I was in.” She’s talking about the Barden Bellas, the nationally-ranked all-female acapella group out of Barden University, a small liberal arts college just outside Atlanta, Georgia. Mitchell was the captain of the group for 3 years, and led the Bellas to two national championships and one world title. “We were really just a bunch of misfits,” she says when I prod her for more information. “And, y’know, being a group of only women, it’s actually pretty hard to make a name for yourself in the acapella world. The best groups are either mixed or all-male. And we’re a very diverse group, and most of us don’t necessarily fit with conventional beauty standards. So I’m just really proud we were able to break through, make an impact, and show people what a group of badass, powerful ladies can do.”

Does she keep in contact with her old group? “Oh, of course, we talk on the daily. I mean, the Bellas gave me everything. They’re my family. I truly don’t know where I’d be without them.”

But now, it’s time to address the elephant in the room. I almost want to apologize to her, though I know it’s completely unnecessary. She has made it apparent that she is comfortable answering personal questions, and has previously specified to me that she is open and completely willing to talk about her own coming out experience. But even though I know she’s agreed to this line of questioning, that’s still just the kind of person she is: she makes you want to look out for her, to keep her safe. She’s so shockingly sincere, so non-malicious, that to do anything to harm her in any way seems tantamount to blasphemy.

Almost like she can sense a shift in the air between us, Mitchell sets her shoulders. I ask her if she’s nervous about coming out. “Not at all,” she answers quickly. “I’ve been ‘out’ for pretty much my whole life. Sexuality has never been a problem for me. I’ve never talked about it before because, honestly — and I know this sounds cheesy and cliché, but I really do mean it — it’s just never come up. It’s been such a non-issue for so long. And I guess I figured it would become common knowledge sooner or later. I just never anticipated, the, um…”

“Going viral?”

She flushes. “Yeah. Never saw that one coming.”

Becoming an overnight sensation by going public with a relationship is an experience that is difficult to replicate or understand, if you haven’t been through it. I ask Beca how she feels about the sudden influx and attention she’s been receiving.

“I don’t mind the attention,” she says honestly. “It can get pretty scary sometimes, but it’s not like I have paparazzi lurking around my apartment or anything, so I feel like I got off pretty easy. I mean I don’t like the attention, but, y’know… sales have gone up, at least,” she jokes, somewhat half-heartedly.

And about her new internet celebrity status (there are dozens and dozens of Tumblr pages devoted to her alone) as an out, queer female musician?

“I mean, I hope we’re moving into a time when, like, it doesn’t matter who anybody dates?” she says, somewhat uncertainly. “I’m like, yeah, technically a celebrity, but it still shouldn’t really matter who I’m with. Man or woman. Like, shouldn’t we be past this, now? If I had kissed a guy that night, I wouldn’t have made the front page. There’s just something different about a queer artist, a woman kissing another woman publicly, I guess. And I mean I do get why. When I was a young, baby bi, I didn’t really have any musicians I could look to, to see myself represented. I know how important it is to see people be out and open about who they are and who they love. I don’t mean to imply that I’m taking that for granted. I am so thankful to every person who’s told me that they’ve connected with my story. And to the people who say I’ve helped them in any way, like… truly, that is such an honor.” She pauses, chewing on her lower lip nervously. “But at the same time, I don’t know if I like that we still live in a world where it’s, like, headline news if a low-level celebrity like me just happens to be dating someone of the same gender.” She laughs lightly. “Guess that’s not something I should say to a magazine that focuses on LGBTQ issues, huh?”

I shrug it off. Mitchell’s point is, after all, a valid one. In this modern political climate, there does seem to be something strangely antiquated (if the early-2000s can be considered ‘antiquated’, that is) about a celebrity needing to give a ‘coming out’ interview. But, despite the merits of her argument, I still have a job to do.

I ask her about her burgeoning role as an icon for other young queer women hoping to enter the industry. “I don’t know if I’m the best role model,” she says with her signature self-deprecating manner. “But I am queer. My music is based off of my life, and I am in a same-sex relationship at the moment. My last album was about a woman. And none of that’s a secret. I’m just going to continue to make the music that I want to make, and my sexuality and my current relationship are definitely a big part of my art. I’m not going to apologize for that. I’m just gonna live my life the best I can, and if people want to see me as a role model for that… yeah, I’d be proud of that.”

I wonder how Chloe feels about her sudden thrust into the limelight. Her life as an inauspicious, unknown civilian must be all-but over (at least, for the time being).

Beca is careful with her response. It takes her many long moments to weigh her words. “We both really value our privacy. And with regards to our relationship, well… I don’t want to speak for her. But I do know that she’d prefer it if she didn’t have any of the fame or the attention. Because of that, we’re really doing our best to keep a low media profile, for our families and also for our personal lives.”

[image]

Pictured: Beca Mitchell, wearing an Angela Chen Jacket, Skoot Apparel Sneakers, Gap Socks, Stylist’s own tank top, and her own jeans.

“But I… we really do want to keep out of the media, as much as possible. But I don’t want people to… A lot of people have contacted me recently, like… way more people than I expected. I get Instagram and Twitter messages every day from young fans; people approach me in the street and tell me that they’ve been impacted by my story; I get letters from people saying that it’s meant a lot to them to see a prominent queer female artist, and… I do feel such a responsibility, now. I understand how much it blows to feel alone and… misunderstood. So, while Chloe and I are trying to keep our private lives private, I don’t want people to think that I’m ashamed of who I am or who I choose to date. That’s not the reason we’ve been keeping a low profile. I’m not ashamed of who I am. So I want to be open about my life. I want people to know that I’m bisexual, and I’m proud of it. And I’m proud of my significant other. But I also want people to respect me, and what I choose to share. I’m sort of a public figure, now, and I signed on for it willingly; like I knew this was coming for me. But Chloe doesn’t really want that life, so… if people could respect my privacy, that would be amazing. I’m not going to stop being who I am and loving who I love proudly and vocally, but I want people to understand that the parts of my life I share are the parts of my life I’m willing to share. Because sometimes — and I think we forget this a lot because of how everyone’s always gotta be documenting their lives on social media and everything — sometimes I think there are some things that should just be for you.”

She shakes her head ruefully. “My publicist is gonna kick my ass. That answer was so preachy and long-winded.” She startles. “Oh shit, can I say ‘ass’?” When I nod in the affirmative, she seems more than a little relieved.

I tell her I understand her desire for privacy. I want to respect her wishes as much as possible, but I’m still dying to know something.

Does she think she’s found her one great love story?

“Chloe’s my best friend,” Mitchell says calmly, with a serene sort of smile on her face. “And she makes me happier than anyone in the world. So if you’re wondering whether I’m ‘finding love’?” She smiles coyly, and looks off to the side. The street outside our café is bustling with activity. A young couple walks by with limbs intertwined, their free hands each balancing an ice cream cone. On a nearby bench, an old man reads the newspaper to his bent-over wife. It think maybe it’s just me, noticing all the sweet signs of romance filtering through the air. (Spring, like I said, makes me think of new starts and new beginnings.)

But Mitchell finally turns back to me. Her smile never wavers. “I would say that it definitely looks promising.”

#perdition #one shots #bechloe #anonymous #asks #didn't plan on writing this but got inspired #:)#long post

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