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pxgeturner · 18 days

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Miguel O'Hara is a world-renowned professional boxer, and Hobie's other best friend. One night he finally makes the two worlds collide and sparks immediately fly between the two of you. But will he distract you from meeting your publisher's deadline? And will you distract him from getting World Champ?

before you follow. m.list. Iron Fist gfx library. series m.list. tag list.

Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. Epilogue.

wc. 1.5k

an. hi. its me! Giselle, or gi, or gigi to few (not to be confused w gg, that is one of my moots. she makes really cool art.) n e ways here is the awaited Prologue for Iron Fist. Oh goodness I'm so nervous. I just want to make a few things clear. the reader is an author (obvs). She's recently graduated uni and is Latina! I write with a woc!r in mind always. I try to be as inclusive as possible, pero porque soy Mexicana, r might lean towards being more Mexican but I'll try to keep her Spanish standard and not be too specific to my family's culture. much love! hope you enjoy <3

please don't forget to reblog! likes do nothing to boost engagement.

Your foot taps against the floor. The damn blank document stares back at you. Mocking you is what it’s really doing. Fuck you, you think, I achieved my goal. I published a book and it is a damn bestseller! Only problem is that the readers want more. It’s been… some time since your first book. And sure, Jess said you can take a break before starting a new project. But you also know that it’s good to ride on existing publicity. At least be able to make an announcement that you’re writing something while all this excitement lasts. Maybe you should write something about vampires. You love vampires and how they fit into romance and how them drinking blood is a euphemism just a bit away from, the whole cannibalism-equals-all-consuming-love trope and how when a vampire attacks it’s often an allegory for rape and— but you have nothing to add to the conversation. You have nothing new to say, no new perspective or hot take, or twist. You have nothing. No ideas.

Not a single word on the page.

You have an idea, leaning forward to peck the keyboard. “F-u-c-k. T-h-i-s!” You highlight the text and italicize it.

Fuck this. At least it’s words on the page.

You reach for your cup and take a sip. “If all else fails I can ride on the rest of the signing bonus and royalties for a bit since the book is doing good, and once that dries up, I can apply to be circulation assistant at a library or something.” You sigh and take another sip. “But nobody has to know for now.” You get up, searching for your phone. You find it resting on the arm of the couch, you grab it, sliding onto the cushions, resting your head where your phone just was. “God, don’t make me a one hit wonder, I wanna be a star. I wanna be the one to push that bitch Colleen Hoover into obsoletion. Please God. Please.”

You open your phone and look for your mother on speed dial.

“Hola, nena!” Your mama’s voice is happy, she must be having a good day. You move into the kitchen. You need a snack.

“Hey, mama, how are you?” You hold the cell with your shoulder as you look through your pantry.

“Good, good,” you find a pack of roasted seaweed snacks and grab it.

“I went on a date anoche.” Your shoulder drops and the pack of seaweed slips out of your grasp.

Mi mami fue a una cita. Con un man! You stand there, trying to process that she is actually back on the dating scene.

“How did it—” you aren’t holding your phone anymore. You use the wall as support to lower yourself to pick up your phone and snack.

“—ay, mami, lo siento, mi cellular se cayo de mi mano.”

“Todo bien, hija! I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, I’m ok. Anyways— how was the date? What’s he like? Am I going to have a stepfather soon?” you joke.

“My time for marriage is gone, muñeca, I’m just looking for companionship, pero, tu lo sabes.” You hear some subtle clinking in the background of the call, she must be stirring her coffee. You open your snack and park yourself on the couch. “Are you writing?” Ugh. Not you, too.

“I was, just finished for a bit before I called you.”

“You called me to procrastinate.” You choke on your seaweed from the accusation.

You clear your throat, “I called to check in with you. I call you practically every day.”

“But right now you called me to check up on me as an excuse to not write. Nena, I know you.”

“Okay, fine. I might be having some writer’s block,” you admit, sighing.

“And that’s okay, nena, but then you need to get out, get some inspiration. Allow the world to give you a story.” There’s mama, with her easier-said-than-done advice. But, maybe you should get out of the house.

“Alright, I’ll go out soon.”

“Tonight,”

“—I will go out to the Chinese place across the street and nothing more. I’ll talk with Hobie when he gets back to see if he has any ideas.” You hear your mama make a noise in her throat.

“You still live with that boy?” Here it comes. You’ve lived with Hobie Brown for three years and have known him for five. She’s always been apprehensive of him, since he’s radical and looks like he’s been in jail, with all the metal in his face, and why does his hair look like that? But Hobie is the one who’s kept you sane all these years. He’s held you while you cried and pushed out of your comfort zone when you were getting too stuck into your routines, most likely by dragging you to a concert or a protest. You help him thrift and flip clothes and ever since that one time his stylist had an emergency and canceled, you now help him tighten his wicks every so often. On days like that the two of you stay in, watching nostalgic movies and listening to any demos he’s recorded recently. He’s like a brother to you at this point.

“Yes, mama, I still live with Hobie. Nothing’s changed.” You move the phone down to your chest and take a deep breath.

“I didn’t like him when I first met him,” you clench your jaw as she continues— “…and although he’s one of those kids, I can tell he is a good boy. I’m glad he takes care of you.” You relax. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone you could kiss.” “It would be nice, but right now it’s not happening.” “Alright, muñeca. I’ll leave you alone for now, but keep your eyes open for a nice man.”

“I will, con cuidado, mami, besitos.” You make a kissing noise into the phone, and she responds with a goodbye of her own, and you wait for her to hang up the call.

You sigh, and look at the coffee table. Hobie left his song book at home, weird. It’s open to the song he was working on the other day. It’s a slower song, you can still hear the melody. You drum your fingers to the tune. He’s on an unfinished verse. You pick up a pen from the little catch-all dish and scribble down a line or two.

…

Hobie weaves through the roar of chattering, anticipating fans and into the tunnel, and walks past employees and into Miguel's prep room to see him tying his shoes. “Hey,” Miguel looks up. “Hey.”

“Are you excited?” He moves to sit by the boxer, shimmying up against his shoulder.

“Haven’t really been excited for one of these in a while.” Miguel breathes.

“Well, one step closer to retirement!” Hobie bounces out of his seat. He turns to face his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, you big fuckin’ bear of a man.” He ruffle’s Miguel’s hair.

Miguel gives a half-ass hum in response.

“Well then, I’ll be out there, mate, cheerin’ you on.” He puts his hands in his vest pockets and walks out the room.

As he reaches the empty doorframe, Miguel speaks up. “Thank you, Hobie.”

“Anything for you, mate.” Hobie nods and goes to join the audience. Miguel fastens his gloves and puts on his robe. He warms up waiting for his coach.

“Ready, O’Hara?”

Miguel turns around. “Always ready for a fight.” He clenches his jaw. Walking down that hallway, the festive colors lighting up his path and the music blaring, he does his little bit, the movements molded into muscle memory.

This is it. This is his last year fighting. If he gets world champ again, he’s free.

Soon, he gets to fight his last fight. And dammit, the world championship will be his last match. Then, he’s never gonna have to come back.

He weaves under the ropes, entering the ring. Sitting on the stool, he shrugs off the robe and lets Carlos put the mouthguard in.

“You are going to show this guy exactly why people call you el oso!” Miguel beats his gloves together and nods. He might not like his job right now, but he really wants to hit something and goddammit if his opponent doesn’t look so beatable right now.

Coach Carlos steps out of the way, and Miguel stands to walk to the ref as he calls for him to center.

“We went over the rules in the dressing room.” Right before Hobie got here. “I want to remind you to protect yourself at all times, and obey my commands.” Ring the damn bell already. “God bless you both,” I don’t need it but this kid might. “Touch up,” here we go. He touches gloves with his newbie opponent and each goes back to their respective corners.

Miguel takes an orthodox stance.

The bell rings.

Miguel lands the first punch. He also lands the last.

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stellasvault · 7 months

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My intro !! ⭐️

i’ve been reading stuff on tumblr for a while but haven’t actually posted anything so i’m sorry if this seems cringy but I promise I’m cool 😭😭

a friendly reminder that I’m a minor (i’m old enough tho 😭), and you can call me stella since I’m not comfortable using my real name :) 🍡i’m like, gay asf so i love myself a fine fictional woman.. 😋. i’m a proud woc, jamaican + haitian 🤭.

My Obsessions at the Moment Are:

all the splatoon games <3

across the spiderverse/into the spiderverse <3

hobie brown 😼

hobie brown again 😭

FNAF

my amazing hot gf 😜

pls interact if u like any of these things (besides the girlfriend part lmfao) 😭😭

What I’ll be posting on here is just mostly random stuff about my interests, drabbles of my favorite characters (*cough cough* hobie brown or anything atsv related) and maybe some occasional serious fics! (this is basically me trying to say this account is for all my simps 🤭) 🍰

what i will write:

fluff

angst

smut (no minors AT ALL)

SOME kinky stuff 🫣

almost anything basically 😭

what i MIGHT write (basically on thin ice)

character x character (there’s nothing necessarily wrong with this i just prefer writing character x reader)

specific reader inserts

character x oc (like u would request a certain og character that u made with a character)

anything about peni parker (it really depends what u are requesting but most of the time i won’t want to write it)

what i will NOT write:

smut with minors (i’m talking to u, miles and pavitr smut writers 💀)

pedophillia, proships, or any illegal relationships

age play, race play, etc.

basic bad stuff yk? 😭

so dni if u like any of this stuff or i’ll bite ur mother and blame it on ur sister 🤑

i am always open to feedback and criticism as long as u aren’t just blatantly shitting on my writing!! <3

(i’m rlly desperate so if ur hungry for something about a character from atsv/any other fandom i know a good amount about, i’ll have it fresh and ready for u 😜)

#intro post #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #pavitr x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miguel o'hara x reader

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hobicomeholla29 · 3 years

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Shatter - Part 1 - JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance/ Fluff in the future

Word Count:3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of death/Mentions of wars/Mentions(hints) of depression/Mourning

Rating: PG13

A/N: Hey! Hey! Before I get into anything else I first have to that all the beautiful who helped me with checkin, beta reading and giving me fantastic feedback in general! @sugaa-sugaaa @spicykoreantatertots @nottodayjjk Thank you so so much for your words of support and for pushing me through to deliver a good piece for everyone!

That being said, This is a 2 shot! Please look forward to part 2!

THIS IS A REPOST. Cuz it wasn’t showing up in the tags.

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, where humankind’s greed has lead planet earth to turn into a ball of dust, all Hoseok wants is a better and bright future, yet strong feelings and a positive mind doesn’t always cut it.

Masterlist

The early morning sky was filled with an eerie fog that threatened to smother anyone who didn’t wear the appropriate attire for being outdoors.

You stood straight; hands balled in tight fists. A mixture of emotions running through your body. Sadness, anger, helplessness, fear…

You were the only ones standing in the middle of the empty field, no one else daring to stand still and be surrounded by the suffocating drafts of air that carried large amounts of toxins –a consequence of humankind utilizing nuclear weapons in the past.

You remember stories being told about your ancestors taking long walks through lucious fields without sporting gas masks on their faces, just imagine enjoying the air in the atmosphere instead of fearing it.

Most parts of the beautiful earth that once existed were now wastelands, all thanks to what was called The Colossal War.

Civilization was anything but civilized after that, creating division and animosity between groups of people with different ideals.

Clans were created and with them the claiming of lands. Lands that provided resources for sustenance, yet the quick dwindling of resources and supplies made some clans selfish, refusing to barter with others and instead attempting to conquer their lands as well.

With bigger and stronger clans taking over the smaller and weaker ones, eventually only four major clans remained, the only exception being small factions that settled between the abandoned areas near the borders of each clan.

Some factions were harmless, only looking for a peaceful place to live, making them nomads, since they had to constantly move to avoid being forced to pledge to one of the four major clans. Others were rioters, ready to go against anything and anyone who posed a threat to their beliefs and wants.

During the long solars that came and went after The Colossal War, much had changed.

Technology, communication, transportation, settlements.

It had all changed, but you really couldn’t say it was all for good.

Technology had turned obsolete at a steady pace, leaving only a few gadgets that were still able to function without being saturated or losing signal without proper cell towers.

Most of them had been vandalized or burned to ashes, mostly to steal copper from the area.

The only remaining signal towers were those of glass recorders.

A glass recorder was the device that kept track of a person’s life.

Since The Colossal War in 3010, civil wars had been blowing up everywhere. Causing inconvenience in simple tasks like having troops return to a fallen soldier’s clan to inform their family about their passing.

A simple duty as this one might have worked back in 2020 but not in 3011.

If troops were sent back, they were at risk of running into an enemy faction and breaking into another battle.

Hence, in 3015, glass recorders were created.

A glass recorder was a device made out of bulletproof glass. Its interior was filled with cables and microchips that contained a person’s personal information, tracking and broadcasting an individual’s vital signs at all times. Constant long-ranged waves went from the glass recorder - to the signal towers around the globe - to the chip installed in the individual’s neck and back.

You could say its data sharing function was similar to the behaviour of olden times bluetooth connections, except that the only information it could send and receive was vital signs and identification details.

Many tried hacking them, attempting to rob information from the device and using it for ulterior motives, however they are designed with an auto destruction mode in case of hacking or death and their towers were heavily protected by troops from each clan.

Usually their sizes were similar to that of an old cellphone.

On one side there’s a knob, remarkably similar to what DJs back in the day used on their mixing boards. It acted as a switch between the different modes the glass recorder could be set on, them being Vitals, Information and Hologram. And on the other side there was a touchscreen, where vitals could be read and holograms could be activated.

There was also an XBS dock entrance on one side of the device. It was mostly used by the law enforcers by transferring any new information about an individual from their archives to the glass recorder, whether it was good or bad.

All of that information, including marital status, first degree relatives, occupation, date of birth and allergies could be found on information mode.

On vitals, details were given about their current health status and the sound of their heartbeat could be played.

And finally on hologram mode, you could see a three-dimensional scale of the owner’s body, making it easier to check for injuries or if any internal damage had been taken.

Besides glass recorders, communication had jumped back to messaging via written letters or oral messages sent via a messenger.

Any vehicles that had existed on the face of earth, had been overhauled.

Updated to cater to the usage it now provided to the arid ground.

Motorcycles, cars, buses, trucks and ships, all modified.

Additional exhaust pipes, thicker tires, dust shields, dredging machinery, artillery and artillery holders, were examples of things you had seen being mounted on different transports, including aircrafts.

As for yourself, you lived in a colony that had been forced to be part of one of the major 4 clans, The Jeon Clan.

The Jeon clan was strong, the Jeon clan was powerful, the Jeon clan was feared, the Jeon clan was blinded by its greed, the Jeon clan stood above everyone and if you refused their ways, then you refused living.

That’s how your small clan ended up under their command.

It was common to hear stories as an infant about how the Jeon clan conquered. They always portrayed the glorious stories of how leader -Jeon the 1st- had tirelessly battled large creatures and evil men to save small clans from their miserable lives, however in each capsule each family shared the story with their offspring as they remembered it best.

Meaning some stories were wonderful, while others were resentful memories and stories of how their clans had been forced to change their ways or how they had lost loved ones to the Jeon reign.

You were only 7 when it all happened.

You remember it so clearly, it felt like you were reliving it each time.

You stood in the middle of the large hangar, eyes searching left and right for your father.

Men and women ran all around, either towards shelter or towards the battle zone.

A military truck’s engine roared in the background, yet you couldn’t figure out which of the twenty something trucks near you had been brought to life.

You frantically ran in the opposite direction. You needed to find him, you needed to convince him not to go.

Running as fast as your short legs could take you, you tightly held on to the glass recorder in your hand.

Tears started prickling your eyes the longer it went without you being able to find him.

Two NSTV vehicles sped past you, swiftly followed by a caravan of men on choppers, armed to the teeth.

Luckily none of them seemed to be your father.

You were getting desperate.

All he had done was left a note on your bed with his glass recorder.

“My beautiful cyberflower, I love you so much. And because I love you, I must defend you. Papa might not be back for a while, but he will make sure that if he doesn’t come back at all, it is because he was able to create a better place for you to live in."

He promised he would never go, that he would stay no matter what.

That he wouldn’t do the same thing your mom did.

Leaving you behind was never the solution. You preferred having them both and figuring everything else out later than having none of them and still being lost.

Why was it so easy for them to leave you behind…?

You didn’t notice you had dropped to your knees, you didn’t notice the tears that cascaded from your face and you certainly didn’t notice how your mourning wail had halted all activities under the hangar.

All frozen in place, no one in the building could figure out why. How could the desperate cry of a child send shivers down their spine? How could it express without mistake, their inner thoughts and feelings.

They felt the grief and pain of having to put their lives on the line to give their loved ones a better future.

A future that should have been granted to them, but the Jeons thought differently.

Yet, your clearest memory from that day was the tight embrace that pulled you out of your dazed state.

The embrace that told you that even if everything didn’t turn out as you wanted, he would be there to walk you through it.

He would be there with that bright smile of his that cleared away all of your cloudy days.

A rundown metallic shed stood at a distance, it was probably used in the past by troops as a hideout, yet for several solars it had been a place you used for solace.

The location gave you a quiet place to think, a quiet place to run away to when everything got too hectic at the colony, a place to yell out of frustration. It was your place -even if it was on enemy’s territory.

However, today said shed felt smaller, its tall walls choking you, suppressing your lungs, no calm remained in it as the words that dropped from your lover’s mouth bounced from wall to wall. The echo made you feel like the words were mocking you by constantly repeating what he said.

"I must go, and you must stay.”

You knew you had heard word of people in the colony joining forces with others near you, to topple the Jeon clan.

Nonetheless, you figured it was just tittle-tattle.

Yet here you are standing in the middle of the building, right in front of your lover, who is spewing the same nonsense your father did so many solara ago.

"Is this a joke? ‘Cause I’m not laughing…"

You saw his hands clenched into fists in annoyance, he tried holding in his feelings, yet the frustrated sigh that left his lips sold him out quickly.

Deep down he knew you wouldn’t take the news lightly, that you would want to accompany him on this journey as well or avoid the whole thing in general. But if he let you, if you came along, his departure would have no meaning. He was leaving for you. He thought you would be more rational.That the conversation would last less than a fraction of a solar, but he stood corrected.

"I can’t stay here on my own. You can’t leave me just like that.” You were distraught. Your eyes searched for his, yet his gaze remained on the door you had used moments ago to enter the shed.

You needed to bring his mind back to you, to the present where you both still remained, you needed to keep him away from thoughts of the unknown future and the doom that could be.

Why was he trying to be person number three on your mourning list?

Your eyes remained on his, yet your fingers occupied themselves trying to find his glove-covered ones, the action making him look down at your entwined fingers.

His eyes seemed to soften at your actions and that alone helped you breathe easier. Deep down you knew that you had to stay back and wait for him, it would be the safest place for you, the colony was your home, but the news he dropped on you like a bucket of cold water had your common senses frozen.Why would he want to leave you so suddenly?

Maybe he no longer wanted this, maybe you were too much, maybe that promise he made solars ago about walking the path with you was too heavy and too much of a burden…

“You must stay, for me,” He said, “and for them.” His eyes dropped to your stomach, his free hand caressing the bump that had started forming not long ago.

“Hoseok…please…” You had to try at least one more time. If he still was that warrior at heart that you had once met, then he was certain to leave even with you crying rivers.

“I must go, my love. I have to be a part of this fight that will give our family the freedom that they deserve. The freedom that WE deserve.” His eyes glossed over, yet not one tear abandoned his eye. He was sure of his decision and nothing could stop him now.

“You don’t have to… A lot of men are already there."

"And I am sure they also have families and other reasons to be there. I will lend them a hand and they shall lend me one. We will fight for a better life and world, a better place to raise our offspring, a better place to grow old.” At this point in conversation, his eyes are boring into yours, yet there is no anger towards you. Only love, strong, heated, unwavering, caring and passionate love. There was certainly no way for you to fight against that.

For a split second, his eyes left yours, and you followed the movements of his left hand. Carefully, he pushed his hand into his pocket, retrieving a device that you were very familiar with.

His glass recorder.

“I- I can’t."

"It’s the only way for you to know my status… and if it ever comes to worse, you’ll know not to wait for me any longer.” He said as he placed it in your hand.

“Please stop talking like you are a dead man already!"

"Y/n-” You interrupted him mid-sentence. You were blabbing now. All your thoughts and fears spilling out at once.

“No! I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want you to go! I want you here with me, with our babies. If you tell the Chief he will let you stay. We are expecting! I can’t lose you; you are walking to your grav-"

"Y/N!” His sudden yell made you flinch, but nonetheless, you looked him in the eyes, only to find them filled with tears. Filled with fear but determination as well.

He was always like this, a young man with a mission. Fire in his eyes, determined to make this world a better place, even if it scared him to the core. He always said…

“There is no better way to deal with fear than to walk right over it…” Those stupid words he repeated everyday since you were 7. “This is me walking all over it. This is me putting you -putting them over my fear of what may be."

"I love you."

"And I love you, my beautiful cyberflower.” His hand grabbed yours, slowly bringing each one of them to his face and kissing your knuckles and palms softly.

“I’ll always return to you."

And so, you watched him ride his chopper towards the horizon.

His silhouette quickly disappeared in the darkness of the night.

Even though the light of the moon shone brightly, it felt dark around you, as if your clouds had returned with the sole departure of his bright smile.

Your hand squeezed the device he left behind, your grip getting stronger the further he drove and now you really wondered, "How is it so easy for everyone to leave me behind?"

150 solars and 149 lunars went by, yet nothing had changed.

Since the day Hoseok had left, your days consisted of nothing but worrying, eating, and visiting the shed.

An old steel bench was set outside of the old metallic building and just like any other day you’d visited, you sat on the edge of it, contemplating life and hoping today was the day Hoseok would return to you as he had promised.

As time flew by, you added this day to the list of other ones where your lover didn’t return and although you tried to remain as positive as possible, you couldn’t stop thinking about why life was so cruel? Why did any of you have to live through this? It certainly wasn’t fair. No one deserved to be forced to choose death if they didn’t choose what someone else wanted.

Since your great-grandparents’ days, the future was supposed to be glorious, beautiful, and bright. Technology was supposed to make everything better. But somehow it all turned to worse.

Pride, arrogance, and selfishness had created the horrible world that you now lived in.

People lost their lives as an exchange for a promise they never received.

They fought battles to free people who were slaves to their own fears and now this was the consequence of all that was done. What a sad life to live. What a horrible life to live.

You rubbed your stomach feeling your bump as it continued to grow. Time doesn’t stop for anyone, is what they say and your clear example is how close you are to being due.

The walk back to your clan’s colony was an easy 10-minute walk that could turn mortal if taken while distracted, hence you carried a machete in your boot.

Once you set foot on your colony’s official territory, you swiftly made your way to your family home capsule, ready to wash off the sorrow and go to bed as you would wait for the next solar to come.

Sadly for you, that hope disappeared the second you made eye contact with someone you didn’t wish to see at the moment.

His eyes caught yours and you saw a mix of emotions: sorrow, understanding, relief and worry, all conveyed to you in a single glance.

You knew what was to come, it was always the same dialogue, but you didn’t want to do this today.

Today you felt drowned, disappointed, you could feel that dark cloud that loomed over your head enlarging day by day.

"You know it’s not s—”

“Save it, Namjoon. I’m not a chil—"

“—But you are a carrying woman, who is walking carelessly to a place where no one can or will follow you.”

“I am not carele—”

“Y/N, shut up for once and put this through your thick skull!! Hendra is enemy territory!!”

And with that he left to his own family capsule, stomping all the way to the door and slamming it closed.

For the first time, you felt different and maybe it had something to do with the fact that Namjoon and your argument didn’t end in the usual monotonous sermon he always gave you, where he remained calm all the way and you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

The funny part about the entire thing was that you were cousins, and your family capsules were right beside each other, so you were sure you’d have to see his sour expression the following day.

Finally in your own capsule - the one you used to share with Hoseok, you took that shower that you daydreamed about and headed to your room.

Just like every night, you muted your room to the outside world, opting to listen to the broadcast of your beloved’s heartbeat.

It was the only thing that helped you sleep at night and somehow you felt as if it pacified the two progenies in you.

You didn’t know when or how it happened, but eventually 365 solars had gone by.

365 solars since the day of his departure and you weren’t getting any better at being without him.

You were now a mother of two. A dawn and a dusk. One born in the early morning and one almost 12 hours later.

So, you gave them names that matched their arrivals to this world, Dawn and Dusk.

All times prior to that day, you felt that once they arrived, there would be this large turning point in your life. That once you had someone who depended on you, your days would start to shift into something brighter, yet somehow, even after the arrival of your children, you felt almost no difference, bordering on saying that you might even felt worse.

Their faces were the perfect mix of your deoxyribonucleic acid and his. Two different beings creating harmony in the body of two newer ones.

Their father had left to give them a better future but, in the process, he had left a broken family behind. It felt incomplete and hollow and somehow you envied the blissful ignorance that your infants currently lived in. Not able to understand the sorrowful life that currently surrounded them.

Another 365 solars went by.

You still listened to Hoseok’s heartbeats every night. The glass recorder remaining as your sole companion in addition to your —now— toddlers.

The night remained quiet. You could barely hear the murmur of voices from the capsule near yours. If you were right, you were sure it was Namjoon and his wife, discussing the plan for retrieving meals for the clan the following morning.

You shifted on the foam mattress that only reminded you more of him. A very faint and almost gone notion of his scent wafting up from what used to be his pillow.

From afar you watched the two small bodies –lying on the second mattress in your room— inhale and exhale deep in their slumber.

They had —just like you— fallen asleep to the beat of the heart of a stranger you placed in front of them and made them call him father.

You loved them, every bit of them. Would do anything for them not to suffer, and maybe just then, in that moment, you understood a bit of Hoseok’s reasoning.

You toss and turn all of a sudden jerking awake from your slumber. You could not recall when you had fallen asleep, so your mind remained disoriented for a short minute, trying to grasp your surroundings. Your heavy eyes roamed around the room, picking up on every detail, the babies were still asleep, the clock read 3AM and the glass recorder wasn’t beating…

THE GLASS RECORDER WASN’T BEATING!

Violently, you pulled the sheets off your body, grabbing the device as soon as your hands were close enough to grab it.

“Why are you not beating? Why are you not broadcasting? What the fu—”

And it hit you like a train… but you didn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe it.

You shook it and twisted the knob and switched it to hologram mode, but it wasn’t working and you didn’t know what to do, your hands were shaking, your thoughts were jumbled…

“This can’t be happening.”

And when a fake solar illuminated your mind, you quickly turned around to plug it in to your old computer, however, the universe had other plans for you and without announcement the device cracked.

You watched it crack little by little, extending all around the recorder, slowly marking the beautiful device with horrible lines that marked its ending, it didn’t stop until it was no longer graspable and all that was left behind was crystal dust in your cupped hands.

You didn’t hear when Namjoon and his wife entered your room or when your kids were taken out of there. Your sobs alerting 3 capsules nearby of the sorrowful occurrence of the night.

It was the worst type of Deja Vu, because just like your mother and father, you’d never see him again…

“Hoseok…”

Thank you so much for reading part one of this 2 shot! Hopefully it didn’t scare you off for part 2!

#btsnoonanet #btsghostie #bangtanscenery #castlebangtan #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #bts x reader #hoseok x poc #hobi x woc #bts x woc

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casnextdoor · 3 years

Note

CASSS!!! HOBI SNEAKS Y/N IN the POTTERY BARN Where he works SHE'S UPSET but not for long, HAVE FUN WITH THE PAINT IS ALL I ASK everything else is up to you.

let the record show .,, that i was originally gonna make this a Canvas Sex (TM) drabble .

——————————

“Babe, would you calm down for like, two seconds?” Contrary to his words, Hoseok’s voice was light and filled with laughter. He had been laughing at you since you had gotten in the car.

The night had started off normal. You’d invited him to come watch a movie and eat junk food, which would progressively turn into a bedroom rendezvous and a good night's sleep. Hoseok seemed to have other plans.

You should’ve known something was up when he showed up at your apartment still dressed in his jeans and hoodie instead of sweats.

He demanded you get dressed into something comfortable and get in the car with a blindfold on, thus bringing you to the present moment, where you sat quietly begrudgingly beside him, complaining about the sensory deprivation.

“I just wanna know where you’re taking me. I can’t see and my eyelids feel like they’re about to get stuck together. What if I’m never able to open my eyes again? You won’t ever get to see my eyes while I suck your dick again-” You were cut off by a burst of loud laughter as you felt the car roll to a stop.

“Okay, one, if you were to still suck my dick after your eyelids get stuck together, I’d love you a billion times more than I already do, and I love you a lot. Two, we’re here, so get your eyelids unstuck and come on.” He’d untied the blindfold from your eyes, waiting patiently as you blink them open and adjust to the darkness.

You’d glanced up at the familiar building before looking at the man watching you from the side.

“You’re job?” You deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest stubbornly, only earning a playful eye roll as he exited the car.

“Come on. There’s something I wanna show you.”

------------------------

You wandered around the room as Hobi chose unglazed ceramic pieces for the both of you to paint.

You hadn’t noticed it before, but his name popped up a lot around the room. He had dozens of finished pieces that he’d either done on his own or helped finish. That thought alone made your body warm with love. He loved his job and what it came with, that much was known by the many pictures he was featured in on the studio wall. There was one specific picture that caught your eye. It was one of him and a little girl. She was clinging to him for dear life and you’d never seen him smile brighter. This picture alone brought a swell to your chest and a question to your head.

“Baby, do you want kids?” It was a question that he’d asked you more times than you could count in your two years of being together. But you’d never gotten around to asking and he found it endearing that you even cared.

“Yeah! I want a bunch of them. Maximum ten, minimum four.” He’d glanced over at you, laughing at the face of disgust you’d pulled.

“I’ll give you two. No more.” You’d walked over to him, running an arm over his shoulder.

“Mhm, we’ll see.” He looped his arm around your waist and pulled you down into his lap.

He'd poured out a little bit of each color of paint, even going so far to mix some into colors he knew you’d like. You’d stared at the assortment for a while, head partially empty due to fatigue. Until you’d conjured up the brightest idea ever.

He’d been so entranced by the side of your face that he hadn’t seen when you landed your hand palm-down onto the pallet of acrylic paint. Nor had he foreseen you lightly slapping the side of his face with the paint covered hand.

He was quick to recover from his shock, grabbing the bottle of blue paint he’d only just sat on the table and squirting it all over you. Your recovery time was quick as well, because soon you guys were chasing each other around the studio with paint, covered in different shades of blue and orange.

It’d taken four bottles of paint and lots of slipping for one of you to finally call a truce.

“Uncle! Baby… Babe, Uncle, Uncle, Uncle. I’m done, you win!” Your hair was matted to your head and your clothes were ruined. Alternatively, you hadn’t had this much fun in a while.

He dropped the now empty bottle of paint onto the floor before sliding toward you. When he’d reached you, he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close, kissing your paint-covered forehead.

“How are we gonna get this cleaned up before I have to open tomorrow?” His voice was low and hoarse from how much he’d laughed at you tonight, but he was content.

“We’ll get it done together. Thank you for bringing me here. I love you.” You nuzzled your face into his ruined hoodie.

“I love you, too”

#bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #hobi x reader #hobi x female reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok x female reader #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #jhope x female reader #bby dee #dee my baby🥺.#btsx black!reader #bts x woc!reader #hoseok x woc #jhope x woc!reader

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bngtanah · 4 years

Text

The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o1

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss. Despite the amount of time they spend together, their complete comfort in sharing a bed, etc, the pair continues to hold on to the idea that they are completely “platonic.” None of their friends believe this excuse, but as ridiculous as it sounds the unconventional living situation truly does seem to work for them.

Well, it used to anyway..

pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park) x Named OC characters: meet the cast.

word count: 10k+ genre: angst, smut, fluff

chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14

warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, ambw

a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

"You headed out?"

Erin's head whipped around in her roommates direction as he appeared in the doorway of their shared bedroom. He was shirtless, for no proper reason, jogging pants barely clinging to his hip bones. Sammy and Erin, to a certain extent, had stopped being shy being half-naked or completely naked around each other after a successful year of living together, and keeping things from becoming noticeably awkward between them. It was almost a tradition for them to freely walk around their tiny apartment space in the dead of winter or in the sweltering heat of summer in next to nothing.

She turned in her seat to fully face Sammy as he flashed her one of his infamous megawatt smiles. It always amazed Erin how he did that, going from smoldering and sexy one second to unexpectedly adorable the very next. It was a talent if she ever saw one. Erin inhaled and clenched the makeup brush in her hand with a tighter grip.

“Uh, yeah. Some girls from my study group invited me out for a drink” She nodded, tapping the fluffy end of her powder brush against her knee as she did her best to keep her eyes focused on his face and not his bare chest.

“I don’t really feel like going, but it beats lying around here doing nothing with you all night,” She shrugged.

Sammy rolled his eyes and drilled his toned shoulder into the doorjamb. "You make it sound like we don’t have any fun just lying around" He replied with a gentle pout.

"Oh, so much fun," Erin reassured with a hint of sarcasm. "But I’m sure they will kick me out of the group if I keep turning down their G.N.O’s."

"They sound like shitty friends; why would you want to go out with them anyway?"

"Well, there aren’t too many people falling over themselves to hang out with an English major, some of us have to take what we can get" Erin chuckled and turned back to face the mirror to finish constructing her 'I don’t really want to be here’ face. Minimal makeup and boring straight hair.

"I enjoy hanging out with you, am I not enough?" Samuel shot back.

Why were they debating this?

The question nearly fell from Erin’s lips because it almost sounded like her roommate was trying to convince her not to go. It was a stupid thought but one that had to be considered.

"Sammy," Erin sighed. "Are you bored or something? You're a big boy I'm sure you can find some way to entertain yourself when I'm not here," She craned her head to look at him again, "Maybe catch up on some of the 'anatomy' research I caught you doing in the living room last night?"

The slight frown that was forming on Sammy's lips disappeared into a broad grin in response to Erin's statement, making her stomach flutter just slightly. She always enjoyed seeing him laugh, especially when she was the cause.

With him partially distracted, Erin took the chance to subtly drink in every inch of his toned skin. He wasn't overtly muscular, more lean than anything but cut where he needed to be. Erin concluded that he had the years he spent dancing to thank for that. His face… Sam had a face that wouldn't seem like much at first glance but there was simply something about him that made you want to keep looking once he caught your eye. Strong jawline, straight nose, deep-set brown eyes that turned into half-moons whenever he smiled, which was often. It convinced Erin that he could make any person fall in love by doing something as simple as breathing, and you'd find yourself becoming jealous of the air that filled his lungs because it could touch him in places that you couldn't.

Not that she was in love with him, but she would be an idiot not to notice what a total hottie her roommate was.

“Whatever, noona.”

His voice snapped Erin out of her haze.

"Go out with your book nerds and paint the town beige," Sammy pushed away from the threshold, padded into the room and came to stand behind where Erin sat.

It should be noted that Erin wasn't entirely dressed either. She was in her robe, bare underneath, and silently willing her nipples not to get hard. The vanity mirror she set up cut Sammy off at the neck so all she could see was his torso just about pressed up against her back. He leaned down bringing his cheek close to her own.

She inhaled softly. The scent of his soap and cologne filled her nostrils and almost made her eyes flutter with satisfaction. She held it together though, no matter how much Erin harped on and on about not feeling anything but friendship for Samuel the past few months made it clear she wasn't sure what the hell she felt anymore.

They had been friends long before they decided to live together. Having seen each other through all the lows and highs of life since high school, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that they were more than just friends. They were basically family. Which was why Erin just couldn't bear to question exactly what had been going on between them lately. The closer than normal contact, him asking to share the bed with her because the pullout couch was messing with his back, all the goodbye kisses that seemed to linger for a second too long to be innocent. All signs pointed to the fact that he was feeling the same kind of attraction that she was, but even with all that evidence Erin just couldn't muster up the courage to call any attention to it.

Sammy brought a hand up and brushed it through gently through Erin's hair. Inwardly, her muscles tensed at his caress, and ripples of energy splintered everywhere. Erin's hair just happened to be an erogenous zone for her, but apparently only when Sammy touched it, which he did often enough.

"If you really want to go have some fun, then I'll stop bothering you," Sammy stated, twirling a strand around his index finger.

His voice sounded coarse like the words pained him to say out loud, that was probably just Erin's imagination.

Instead of responding Erin shrugged her shoulders and reached for her darkest tube of lipstick that wasn't actually black. Dreary colors usually did the trick to scare any guys planning to target her as an easy lay. To the weak of heart, they seemed to suggest hypersexuality, dabbling in witchcraft or both. Which meant whatever lame pickup line they had planned would not fly with her.

“Don't make it sound like I'm locking you in a cage here by yourself.” Erin said after a few seconds, biting into her lip when Sammy's hand smoothed down to her shoulder.

His brow scrunched, and his lips pulled down at the corners. “There's only so much I can do when you're not here.”

Erin snickered and began lining her lips in plum lipstick. “We have internet and a laptop, go nuts.”

“That's only fun when I think you're gonna catch me.”

Erin's eyebrow quirked, but she ignored that minor revelation “You're so gross.”

Sammy laughed again and that curious hand of his moved back up to Erin's neck, his thumb rubbing circles at her nape.

“You're distracting me,” She said through a soft breath.

“Ah, sorry,” Sammy dropped his hand, but he didn't move from his spot. His eyes zeroed in on her lips while she put on her lipstick. “Is that new? I really like that color on you noona.”

Capping the lipstick, Erin smiled gently and looked forward, her eyes connecting with Sammy's through his reflection in the mirror. “When exactly did I become noona, by the way? In the years we've known each other I can count on one hand the amount of times you've called me that.”

Sammy smirked and shrugged his shoulders, "You don't like it?"

It was quite the opposite, actually. If Erin had a smidgen of confidence, she would tell him she absolutely adored hearing him call her 'noona'. She was over the novelty of the age gap a year after moving to South Korea but there was just something about the way Sammy said it. It wasn't said condescendingly or begrudgingly but with genuine love and Erin could feel that.

"Nah, it makes me feel old."

"Well, that's too bad because I enjoy saying it to you-" Sammy lowered his frame until he rested on his haunches with is chin just about resting on Erin's shoulder. "Noona."

He was too low for her to elbow him like she wanted to so Erin settled for judgmental glare before returning to her makeup. "Keep this up and I'll be waking you up in the middle of the night just to gush all about all the guys I make out with tonight, with vivid detail."

Sammy cocked a lopsided grin. "I doubt that will happen. When you spend nights making out with guys you don't want to give it up to, I usually just hear you lock the door and bzzzzz." He replied, complete with sound effects and what could only be described as his imitation of a stroke victim having an orgasm.

"Out! Right now, that's enough out of you for the night" Erin exclaimed through a mixture of laughter and embarrassed groans, turning to smack him a few times on the shoulder.

Chuckling, Sammy rose to his feet.

"All right, all right I'll go but I do have one question for you," He said as he stared down at Erin, placing his hands on his hips, and wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. Erin dug all ten of her fingernails into her kneecaps to get a hold of herself.

"What's your question, Samuel?"

"Are you planning on bringing anyone home tonight?"

Erin paused, suspicion making her eyes squint gently. That was a question she'd never heard from him before. "Why?"

"Just answer the question, Erin."

"I....don't know, probably not. Why?"

"I just wanted to know if I'd have time to try out my new noise-cancelling headphones tonight."

With that Erin rolled her eyes and stood to face him, "I've had enough of you Sammy, get out. I need to get dressed and you’re just distracting me with foolishness." Sammy only chuckled then shuffled toward the door, whistling.

Just as quickly as he left Sammy's head popped up at the corner of the entrance again. Erin stared at him expectantly.

"Why don't I come out with you tonight? I know for a fact that you only tolerate those book club girls and I know Kasey won't be coming because I was eavesdropping earlier. Come on, I'll do you a favor. ,"

Erin's fingers strummed the vanity top as she contemplated her roommate's suggestion. The girls from her study group weren't exactly nuns, but they definitely weren't the most fun to hang with on a Friday night. They also probably wouldn't take too kindly to Erin inviting a guy to their 'Girl's Night Out'. However, having Sammy around all but guaranteed that she would have a good time tonight, even if it meant getting on their bad side.

It seemed worth it right?

"Can you promise to be on your best behavior?"

He shrugged. "Probably, but that depends on what you mean by 'best'."

"Like no challenging random people to a dance off, no hitting on any of my study group members..."

Sammy laughed. "Ooh, don't think I can agree to that last request, I've been on a kind of book smart, nerdy girl kick lately."

"Ugh, whatever just don't make it obvious" Erin replied, grabbing her cellphone. "I'll text Kim and tell her I have a....friend joining me."

Sammy beamed and immediately rushed over to envelop Erin in a smothering hug, making her blush like a silly schoolgirl in return. "We're gonna have a blast, noona."

Erin grinned and stroked the smooth skin on his back softly. "I wouldn't speak too soon."

The smile on Sammy's face faltered slightly, but he made no attempt at letting her go, his hands found their way into Erin's hair again and she shuddered slightly. A response that did not go unnoticed by Sammy since their bodies were practically sandwiched together. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't control the future; we could get hit by a car on our way there. Go cover up your nips. We have to leave soon, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah" The lean boy replied as he slowly released Erin from his grasp and began making his way toward the door for the third time that night. He paused for a second once he was in the doorway and turned to glance at Erin who was combing through her hair, "Can I make a suggestion?"

"This better not be something silly."

"Wear your hair up."

Erin blinked a few times at her reflection before her eyebrow shot upward and she swiveled her head in Sammy's direction, waiting for him to elaborate on his random suggestion.

His expression was serious, and his eyes almost appeared to be darkened. "Your hair up, with that dark lipstick…? You look irresistible."

A pang of electricity sparked right through Erin's core, it took every amount of self-restraint in her not to cross the room and smear her perfectly applied lipstick all over his toned chest.

Instead, she chose to cover up her attraction with a pleasant smile while obediently complying with his request.

"Up it is."

#jung hoseok #hoseok angst #hoseok fanfic #bts hobi #hobi #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok x oc #bts x woc #dbbg

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