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samwinchestersgf · 4 years

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sam winchester - jealous

summary: based off “jealous” by labrinth.

warnings: angst. sad. horrible decisons. drunk!y/n. arguing. fluff. a little bit of smut if you squint.

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sam winchester’s point of view.

you’re soaked.

you’re soaked and you’re twirling around in the middle of the wet field. the heavy raindrops dance across your skin and drip down your face. they trace every crevice of your face. they brush against your cheeks. your clothes cling to you in the most inprobable places.

i’m jealous of the rain.

it’s closer than my hands have been. the only part of you i think i’ve ever touched is your hair. it was soft, and smelled good. as i sit here watching you, i wish i could trickle through your hair like the raindrops do.

i'm jealous of the rain

you rakes your hands through your hair with one hand, while using the other to run the blow dryer up and down your locks. your faced turns into one of mischief and determination within a split second, and you turn toward me. the dryer is pointed at me, blowing hot air in my face.

“put your hands up,” you giggle.

i snort, “you caught me.”

“that’s what you get for watching me, creep.” you joke.

i want to tell you that i just can’t help it. you’re so intoxicating. just the sight of you makes me feel high. you pull me toward you, like gravity pulls bricks down to the ground. even your small, mundane tasks make me estatic.

“you just look pretty.” i tell you.

i can tell by your face that you don’t believe me. you think i’m being nice. i’m not just being nice. you’re stunning. “yeah. okay.”

the frigid air blows at you so fiercely that i think you might float away. you thinks it’s funny. i think it’s adorable how you can laugh at the smallest things. you find joy in nature trying to, quite literally, ambush you. thats one of my favorite things about you. you can make light of even the worst situations.

i’m jealous of the wind.

it ripples through your clothes. it makes yoj laugh without fail every time a big gust of it comes hurdling toward you. you force your eyes shut when they start to sting from the pressure. i take the moment to take a real good glance at you and mentally capture the moment. the wind is pressing up against you, and it’s closer than your shadow.

oh, i'm jealous of the wind.

everytime we go out to random bars, i wish you the best of luck finding a man who’s worth your time. i really mean it. you deserve the best of all this world can give.

“i’m so sorry to bail on you. it’s just... he’s really cute.” you smile awkwardly. “please forgive me.”

“there's nothing to forgive.” i smile back, waving you off.

the next morning, you walk in and gently closes the door. your face is bright pink, and you’re smiling. i look up at you, pretending that i havent been watching the door all night in anticipation.

“so..?”

i know what i want you to say. i want you to be torn up over how sleezy and horrible and rude he was. i want this to make you realize that the only one who could treat you right is me.

“i’m not one to kiss and tell, but...” you bite your lip.

i sigh, and put on a fake smile. “oh, i see.”

“yeah. he was really nice.” you shrug.

“did you get his number?” i ask, internally cursing at myself for letting jealousy slip into my tone. it’s hard for me to admit, but i’m jealous of the way you’re happy without me.

“no.” you shake your head. “we both agreed for it to be a one night thing.”

my heart swells a little bit. “oh, okay.”

another day, another town, another case, another bar, and another empty backseat of the impala on our drive home. i lean my head against the window.

“sam, you really need to get laid or something.” dean teases.

i respond with a grunt.

he scoffs, “i’m serious! what’s stopping you?”

i have to lie. it’s not like i can just outright tell him that i’m too consumed by my own jealousy to do anything. especially if i’m jealous of that random man in the bar that y/n went home with. i only saw him for a second.

“nothing, i guess.”

i stare up at the ceiling while i lay in bed. i’m jealous of every night that i don’t spend with you. i let my mind wonder. where are you; what are you doing?

who are you laying next to?

you walk through the door, and like always, you’re in too good of a mood for me to assume that nothing happened. we make small talk, and you sit across from me as we research the case.

you shut your laptop and clear your throat. “sam?”

“yeah?” i look up, startled by your voice.

“what do you think about hunters dating each other?” you swallow.

i shrug. “hunters dating in general is... not always the smartest idea, i guess.”

“yeah, but, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work.” you reach.

“i mean, i guess it could but, it’s never really been a good idea in the past, so there’s no reason to start now, you know?” i answer.

“yeah, right...” you go quiet.

another night, another bar, another- you know the drill. i’m starting to get bitter. being jealous is never fun, especially when it’s this intense, and goes on for this long.

another morning, you’re smiling. you dont talk as much, or maybe you do, i’m not sure. i’m distracted by your pretty smile.

at the bar that night, you drink a lot. you’re not normally a heavy drinker. you’ll have one or two, just for a small buzz, but i’ve never really seen you drunk. now, you’re getting there.

“sammmmmmmm.”

“hm?” i ask.

“i wanna go homeeeeee.” you draw out your words.

“wow, are you breaking your streak of never sleeping in the same bed twice in a row?” i tease. “or are you going home with someone else?”

“i’m drunk.” you admit.

“you are.” i nod.

“but i’m not drunk enough to lose all common sense.” you continue.

“okay, and?” i tilt my head.

“i know i don’t wanna go home with a stranger.” you tell me.

“okay then.” i nod.

you finish, “i wanna go home with you.”

i laugh, and tell myself you mean it literally. you literally want me to take you home, not sleep with you. “okay, let’s go.”

once we’re at the motel, you sit next to me on the bed. i raise my eyebrows, but brush it off. you’re drunk. you stare at me for a while, and i try to ignore it, but it eventually gets to me.

“y/n, are you okay? you look like you’re about to-“

your lips smash into mine. they taste like beer and cherries and i don’t think i’ll ever want to pull away. having you pressed up against me is more addicting than i ever couldn’t imagined.

“we shouldn’t be doing this.” i mutter when i pull away.

“sam, i’m in love with you.” you argue.

“you’re drunk out of your mind.” i respond. “this... this is wrong.”

your face turns red from embarrassment as you stand up. “you’re right. i should go.”

“y/n, no-“

you’re already up and out the door. i punch the bed. god, im so stupid. i should’ve made it more clear that i wanted to do it as much as you did. now you’re gone, and you think i hate you.

i call you. i call you 10 times and text you twice as much. you don’t answer. they all go straight to voicemail.

i can’t sleep. i can’t sleep because i’m worried about you. your location’s off on your phone. i, once again, don’t know where you are or who you’re with. it’s all my fault.

when the sun finally peeks about the horizon, my phone rings. i pick it up instantly. i doesn’t even finish ringing once.

“y/n, where are you?!” i ask frantically.

“it doesn’t matter. look, i’m sorry about last night.” you deflect.

“no, no. we need to talk about last night. i-“

“we really don’t. i get it, sam. i shouldn’t have tried to make a move on you. you said that hunters shouldn’t ever date because it’s stupid, and i should’ve listened.” you apologize.

“y/n, thats not what i meant.” i deny.

“seriously, you dont have to lie to spare my feelings. i understand.” you swallow. “i have to go.”

you hang up the phone. i run my hands through my hair. i have to fix this. this is going worse than i ever thought it could. sadly, i can’t do anything until you come back.

and, oh, you come back.

the door opens. you don’t look at me, and i respect your embarrassment. i watch you as you talk to dean about the case and ignore me. i know you know i’m looking at you.

dean leaves to get food. you beg to go with him, but he makes you stay. we sit on opposite sides of the room. you stare at your phone, but i know you’re not doing anything on it because there’s a window behind you, and i can see the reflection of your black screen.

“y/n, i know it’s embarrassing, but we need to talk.” i sigh.

“can you please stop?” you snap.

“huh?”

“i get it, you don’t like me. i’m not your type; i’m like your sister; hunters shouldn’t date. rubbing salt in the wound isn’t making it better, okay?” you raise your voice.

“y/n, i never said that.” i explain.

you don’t let me finish. “you know what, we should forget it. i was drunk and horny and i didn’t mean it.”

“what, so that meant nothing to you?” i feel the shame and anger rise inside me.

you hesitate, “no.”

“of course it didn’t.” i let slip.

“excuse me?” you raise your eyebrows.

“of course it didn’t matter to you, y/n! you’re out every night with a different guy, and i was just one of them, wasn’t i?” i yell.

“are you calling me a slut?!” you accuse.

“did i say that?” i groan.

“you’re insinuating it, sam. i’m not dumb. if you have suchna problem with me going out and having fun, then maybe you should say something about it instead of just letting me do it.” you argue.

“why should i? i don’t care.” i rebuttal.

“i know you don’t, that’s the problem. you don’t care about anybody but yourself.” she spits.

“that’s not true, and we both know it.” i shake my head.

“maybe it wasn’t, but now it is. everything’s all about mister sam winchester.” you declare.

“at least i don’t try to sleep with every guy who gives me an ounce of attention. i thought you were smarter than that, y/n.” i shout.

“i wouldn’t have to if my best friend pulled his head out of his ass and give a damn about anyone but himself.” you respond.

i narrow my eyes. “don’t blame me for your problems.”

“why shouldn’t i? you’re the reason i even started doing that.” your voice cracks the tiniest bit.

“what?”

“i started sleeping with all those guys because you don’t like me, and i’m in love with you, and i needed something to get my mind off of you.” you get quieter.

“you’re in love with me?” i ask quietly.

your eyes tear up. “yeah. its a dumb decision, i know. thats why im leaving.”

“no, don’t-“

“i have to, okay? i cant just... be around you like this anymore. it’s killing me.” i can tell you’re not lying. its tearing you up instead.

i watch as you slip through my hands and try to keep it together. i don’t want to cry. i don’t know what to do. taking a leap of faith, i walk across the room and lay my hand on your shoulder. i turn you around and cup your face, pushing our faces together.

you lean up into the kiss and i’m tasked with keeping you up on your toes. that gets exhausting, so i direct you over to the bed and lay you down. things get more and more intense, and close is never close enough.

“stay.” i breathe against your skin.

“i will.” you respond quietly.

#sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester preference #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam x reader #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester #sam and dean #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester

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archival-account-2 · 4 years

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definition and refinement; in the heart of an artist. | keiji akaashi [headcanons]

❛ 𑁍 pairing: keiji akaashi x female!artist!reader

❛ 𑁍 scenario: in fukoradani academy; in the art club (school studio); in the volleyball court

❛ 𑁍 warning: none because it's a fluff; y'all haven't seen the coffee sachets i consumed

❛ 𑁍 note (i): my head isn't a healthy headspace because the brown coffee + sugar + black sugar i consumed today; y'all better expect like a train is gonna hit you off the rails because i didn't went easy with this one; of course, i tried to keep keiji akaashi in character, so please patient as i am adjusting his personality with my writing style (it’s fun writing new things)

❛ 𑁍 requested by: @schoneelise

🡪 you are one of the school prominent artists not because you're the vice president of the art club (your senpai is a third-year) but because you're presence is always defined no matter where you are.

🡪 did someone saw that cutie in a red berret? yeah, that's you, sketching in one of the notebooks you brought.

🡪 oh, did someone also saw that dolly in a skirt with van gogh's starry night masterpiece? yep, defintely, that's you, admiring your juniors' art in their studio while giving them advice.

🡪 anways, moving on; your senpai, (s/n), is very good friends with kotaro bokuto, the colleyball captain of the fukorodani volleyball club. (s/n) comes to their friend's practice by themselves but one day, you're intrigued with the way they were acting.

🡪 it was as if they were jittery and were kept on their toes. did something happen without your knowledge?

(s/n): they almost had it... they almost had it!

(y/n): ... senpai?

(s/n): if keiji didn't mess it up, he could have-

(y/n): sennpai, are. you. okay???

🡪 your kind concern reconvened your senpai's attention toyou, who almost looked petrified. (s/n) apologized for their erratic behavior and explained the situation.

🡪 long story short: fukorodani would facing off against the schools in tokyo in less than one week, and they don't have enough time to practice the new combo they conjured up.

🡪 you, being the supportive type, decided to come with your senpai. they were more than happy to have you tagging along. besides, it seemed like you needed something to be your next inspiration.

🡪 wow. the tension in the court... is just... wow.

🡪 boy, did the sound of balls bouncing off the floor and walls made you rethink your decision. what if you're going to lose an arm? what if you're going to get a concussion? is the place even safe for behaving people?

(s/n): relax. they know where they're gonna hit.

🡪 you're almost believing your senpai when a ball narrowly missed your head by a hair. a hair... a. hair.

🡪 poor you... you almost dropped your art things on the floor and fainted right after that.

keiji: not that high, bokuto-san. you almostt hurt (s/n)-san.

(s/n): actually... you almost obliterated my vice president, (y/f/n).

🡪 you were, by all means of surprise, a forgiving type of person, so you kindly and simply brushed it off with a shy wave of dismissal and a smile.

(y/n): no, it's fine! in fact, it kinda impressed me that it can go that fast and strong. er, good job!

🡪 let's just say, the volleyball captain became very fond of you at the very instant.

🡪 and his vice captain? he's intrigued, to say the least.

🡪 after one strenous match (that scared you most of the time and had to shift multiple times), they finally had a break. your senpai walked over to kotaro and chatted with him, shooting the breeze as the other players attended to their needs.

🡪 while the game was nearing to an end earlier, you finally moved to the most comfortable spot: almost to the corner, underneath a window. you set your artist's satchel beside you in peace (at last) and made new sketches that were inspired by your new surroundings: the court ceilings, the net from your perspective, the rapid movement of rubber shoes, the accelerated ball and it's awesome momentum.

🡪 you were having your own fun in your own newfound place, and you like the fact you had something new to draw about.

🡪 now, during the ten-minute break, keiji akaashi, the vice captain, noticed that you were gone... well, that was until he saw you sitting by yourself.

🡪 you were sitting cross-legged; your sketchpad on your lap; your mechanical pencil scraping the paper as it draws; your head bending down with your eyes focused on the task at hand.

🡪 keiji walked over to you quietly, making sure his tall presence won't startle you. but since you were so immersed, you didn't even pay any attention to anything else. so, he stood before you, bent over, and looked down at your sketchpad.

keiji: it's really pretty.

🡪 you almost threw your pencil five feet in the air from the sudden, accidental scare.

(y/n): oh, um... thanks... but does it really?

keiji: yeah.

🡪 from then on, you and keiji hang out like good buddies every other time after his practice and after your duties in the art club were done for the day.

🡪 however, on one hand, it would be you who would come by the court and proceed with your habit to sketch the surroundings. but, on the other hand, it would keiji who would finish early and drop by the art club (without announcing his presence because of his frequent visits), watching you work behind your back as you work on an easel or laptop (for digital arts).

🡪 of course, during the times you two would spend the time, keiji would give you meaningful advice on how to make your pieces more attractive and more aesthetic-looking.

🡪 surprisingly, they worked so well! in fact, so well that your (s/n) would tease you about keiji being the better mentor than themselves.

(s/n): i guess (y/n)-chan doesn't need me at all... she had found a better teacher... much worse, he's in the volleyball club. oh, the horror!

(y/n): but you taught me the fundamentals, though... senpai, you're being melodramatic again.

🡪 in case you haven't noticed it yet, you're the type of artist who can quickly adapt to another artstyle without sacrificing your own. you are a fast learner type and that was because you believe improvement knows no speed.

🡪 you always work hard to make your pieces expressive, eloquent, and emotional. with your ardent passion to adapt to functional styles, it's no wonder why you can cope up with keiji's suggestions without thinking about it.

🡪 keiji, in turn, would be surprised. but he would only retain that notion only to himself. he couldn't bear to admit that verbally.

🡪 he's not big on evoking emotions or feelings easily; he prefers to keep a calm, relaxing, and unmoving personality everytime he's around crowds.

🡪 but there was one thing he couldn't do: he couldn't stop his own eyes from expressing from what he truly felt in the inside.

🡪 whenever he saw you drawing something that seemed better than he liked it to be, keiji would give you a nod of his head and simply motioned for you to continue with a wave of his hand. but then you would give him a quick-second glance, and his eyes said, 'it's really amazing. please do more'.

🡪 other times, when you eagerly show him your work, a side of his lips would tug slightly upwards. but it would quickly disappear as it appeared. you didn't fail to spot it, though, and you felt super proud you're able to make keiji elicit an expression of happiness.

🡪 so, one day... your art teacher dropped the bomb: you, art students of the art club, have to draw still-life.

🡪 but not just any still life. no, it had to be still life with the theme, "classically contemporary".

🡪 well... well.. you need to think fast or else your grades will drop to a 'c-' or a 'b+'. and you're a straight 'a+' student in arts, so you can't let this drop-

keiji: what's going on with that head of yours?

🡪 you're hanging out in the court this time, and keiji was on a break (thank heavens; kotaro just made them run twenty-five laps around the gym as 'cool down').

🡪 you explained you thick dilemma and keiji said you shouldn'y overthink it too much because that'll "bench you out until the time is up".

🡪 you took his solemn advice with a grain of salt and thought it through as the second round of practice commenced. before you knew it, you finally made your decision and you're excited to keiji about it.

🡪 but the question is: would he like it?

(y/n): akaa-

keiji: keiji.

(y/n): um, keiji! i finally know what i'm going to do!

keiji: good. can you tell me what it is, then?

(y/n): can you be my model?

🡪 him? akaashi keiji? a model? for someone's project? esepcially that 'someone' was you?

🡪 gosh, he really didn't know how to respond, so he just simply looked at you with the most unreadable face ever. it made you contemplate if you had upset him or something...

(y/n): keiji... um, you know... it's fine if you don't want to my subject. i can just go and ask some of my other friends if they want.

🡪 next day rolled around and you still haven't asked any of your friends yet. that's because you had a hunch they had found their own models and muses in the earliest nick of time.

🡪 sad to be you right now.

🡪 so while the others were working with their newfound partners, you were simply minding your own business by setting the 'still life' background/setting of your work, thinking it might lighten the load while you're still looking for the right person.

(s/n): (y/n).

(y/n): y-yeah? senpai?

(s/n): why is keiji dressed like he's about to revive a shogunate?

🡪 good lord.

🡪 it had to be kotaro's idea.

🡪 it just had to be.

🡪 akaashi-freaking-keiji cannot just waltz inside the art studio dressed in a yukata with a semi-real sword strapped across his waist. no, no, no, no, nope-

🡪 it looked so out of his element, to be honest. like... he wasn't born to wear it because his face conveyed the most unamused expression to ever live. he looked like he was forced to get inside the costume. but how could anyone coerce this serious man to even wear that?

🡪 but you know what?

🡪 he looked really dashing, to be honest.

🡪 really, really dashing.

(s/n): ... this is the art studio, not the drama theater.

keiji: i know. i'm here for (y/n)...

🡪 did. you. hear. that. right?

🡪 or what he just said rendered you deaf?

🡪 anyways, anyways, anyways. here's the breakdown of how the hell akaashi keiji ended up wearing a yukata with the matching sword.

🡪 he admitted to kotaro that you asked him to be your model. kotaro nearly gave him the most memorable slap ever because he lowkey rejected you. as his punishment, kotaro got in contact with one of the drama peeps he's friends with and ordered to his friend the most amazing yukata they have in the closet with matching sword. (so it was definitely his idea; no wonder why akaashi looked slightly pissed). while akaashi thought it was a waste of time and called kotaro out for being impulsive, he also thought... what's the freaking big deal?

🡪 what is he overthinking about? there's nothing to put his mind heavily on the matter. the only thing he's going to do is sit still and look handsome for the artist. is that the hardest job in the world?

🡪 his answer came to him when he sat down on a stool and posed for (y/n): it's not the hardest job at all. besides, he's not always on energizer bunnies and he's barely hyper when he's sitting down. so... i think he's doing a great job~

🡪 (y/n), in turn, is having the best fun of her life.

🡪 she's sketching one of her bosom friend for one her important projects.

🡪 she's taking her sweet, sweet, sweet time sketching keiji on the digital easel and before they both knew it, the draft was done!

🡪 it only took them seven hours, though.

🡪 keiji missed his volleyball practice and it was past their curfews.

🡪 but neither of them mind. while some students really did stay put (wow, the dedication), keiji and (y/n) decided to go home at once.

🡪 but only after keiji changed into his uniform again.

🡪 he cannot be seen in a yukata.

🡪 his dignity relies on his appearance somehow.

🡪 once he's done, both of them walked home since their houses were just walking distances.

(y/n): you actually looked really nice in the yukata, keiji.

keiji: thank you, (y/n). although it was just forced on me.

(y/n): nonetheless, you appeared very dream-like back there.

🡪 something blossomed in keiji's chest. was it deep appreciation for the meaningful compliments? was it earnest regard to how he had behaved and look for your project? whatever it is... he's not going to deny it in any way. but then again, he's not going to say anything about it.

keiji: is that so?

(y/n): gosh, yes! you're a lifesaver back there, you know.

🡪 you spent the night polishing the whole thing and it continued for the rest of the week.

🡪 keiji, being an understanding and considerate type, didn't step in your way except when to remind you about eating lunch and going home earnestly.

keiji: (y/n), eat your lunch first.

keiji: (y/n), brush your hair before sitting down.

keiji: (y/n), time to go home.

keiji: (y/n), rest your eyes.

🡪 one week after your final draft, you passed it to your teacher just in time.

🡪 of course, to compensate to keiji's volunteerism and efforts to keep you alive (barely) last week, you treated to lunch on you.

keiji: i have my own bento, (y/n).

(y/n): but mine has more meat than that,

keiji: ... fine. let me have it, please.

🡪 after a hearty lunch, keiji walked you to the art club. (of course, there was no competition but the grades matter-)

sensei: all of your artworks deserve to be in a museum. but, to be honest, out of the rest, i think (y/n)'s piece deserved a seat right next to da vinci's.

🡪 god bless keiji for being there or else you could have lost all senses then gained a concussion from fainting.

🡪 your still life, turned out, to be the one that stood out the most.

sensei: how did you pull this off, (y/n)? who... who taught you?

🡪 you squinted at your work and noticed the changes you never paid attention to at all. while you retained your own original art style of 'still life', there were some compositions that seemed brand new.

(y/n): keiji-kun taught me.

🡪 you said it with so much pride that keiji actually smiled.

🡪 smiled.

🡪 he smiled the most genuine smile he could ever muster.

🡪 (damn, kotaro is missing in action right now.)

🡪 you got the highest grade among your classmates + your (s/n) congratulated you wholeheartedly. they even said, "you might even be the next president in the art club!"

🡪 you laughed and accepted their compliment.

keiji: maybe next time, you should draw me in a hakama.

🡪 now, should you? only kotaro knows the answer.

❛ 𑁍 note (ii): y’all want actual fanfic of this thing??? dm me/ask me, comment and reblog this, then, so i would know. hope you like this~

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #haeyllasephone req

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starkrogerrs · 5 years

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Keep your body all on me [part 2]

part 1 // also on ao3

a/n: i promise part 3 is all smut (updating next thursday) so keep an eye out! let me know your thoughts on this part? all the love <3

Accepting Steve's offer was probably the best decision that Tony had made in recent times.

Servicing him was a definite upgrade from some of the creeps that he encountered at the Strip club. It wasn't even servicing, it was as if Tony almost was in a relationship with Steve.

Almost.

The first week had been the usual stripping and dancing that he did for his customers, at the end of which, Steve, true to his word, rewarded him handsomely. Steve loved the way he moved, swayed to the most crass songs but Tony enjoyed putting on a show for him. It was honestly liberating.

Steve praised him relentlessly, not empty words but actual heartfelt compliments. Obviously they were meant to encourage him but Tony flushed everytime Steve called him beautiful and gorgeous and baby in his deep but soft voice.

Saying Steve was filthy rich was an understatement. Thanks to him, Tony didn't need to go to the club anymore and he could finally pay off his pending rent.

The terms of the contract were simple, Tony would be Steve's sugar baby. He wasn't to see anyone else except for Steve, but had ever liberty to refuse, if whatever Steve asked of him, didn't feel right. Tony was fine with that, his love life had no momentum anyway.

However, by the time three weeks had passed, their arrangement had turned into something else completely. Tony visited Steve every night, and Steve would fall asleep in his lap or against him as they talked about everything and nothing; got to know each other better. He found himself spending more time at Steve's beautiful mansion than his own home.

Sure, Tony still danced and entertained him at times but there was more cuddling involved. It was as if Steve liked his touch, but Tony knew it was just Steve's nature to be kind and gentle. Tony was, after all, doing him a favor of sorts.

During this Tony often wondered if he should be doing any of this. It didn't exactly feel right but it didn't feel wrong either. Steve was so gentlemanly, Tony could hardly complain. And he'd be shy to admit it, but he actually liked being spoiled by Steve. A fancy suit here, a new laptop there, coupled with handwritten notes made Tony think he was living some fairy tale. Because he surely had the most beautiful Prince Charming there ever was.

Steve asked a lot about Tony's life and shared a few tidbits of his own. Steve was a self-made man and it only made him all the more attractive. It was only a stroke of luck that Tony had chanced upon him.

And then, during the fourth week Steve had kissed him. They had made out in Steve's car, while returning from a trip to the local mall where Steve had promised to buy Tony every thing he wanted.

Tony had no idea what to do after that. They had kissed. They spent so much time together, and Steve was obviously attracted to him. But he'd never asked for more, never told him if they'd like to make this official. Tony was baffled, to say the least, but he couldn't find the courage to talk to Steve and risk their arrangement.

He liked Steve too much to let all of this go. Liked the way Steve's lingering touches set him on fire, liked the way that Steve looked at him, liked the way his kisses and numerous hickies pushed him over the edge.

It was almost too perfect to let go.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Tony purrs, as Steve falls on top of him, snuggling into the crook of Tony's neck and wedging one leg between his own. Steve sucks at the skin there, grazing his teeth against the sensitive area.

"Rough day at work?" Tony asks, breath hitching, and Steve hums in response. His hands trail down Tony's arms, before finally coming to rest on his hips.

"Don't wanna talk about it though," Steve murmurs low, biting and nipping at Tony's skin.

"Did you like my present?"

"I am wearing it right now," Tony says, biting his lip, heart starting to thump inside his chest. Steve draws his head back at that, staring at him as his pupils dilate.

The look sends a shiver down Tony's spine.

"Can I see?" Steve asks ever so softly, but his voice is thick and deep.

Tony nods coyly, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Steve lifts himself off of Tony, but just enough so that he is now hovering above him.

Tony stares directly into his eyes as he lifts his hips and slowly shimmies his pants down his legs. He kicks them off the bed and lays still; his lower half exposed, save for his privates that are covered by the red, silk thong that Steve gifted to him. His heart thumps wildly against his chest, as Steve looks him over, gulping hard.

"You're so gorgeous," Steve breathes, as he sinks to Tony's feet and places a kiss to his ankles. He moves upwards slowly, kissing every inch of skin he can reach and Tony feels like he's floating.

Steve kisses the insides of his thighs, murmuring another compliment and Tony feels himself go red all over. At this point he doesn't know who's doing who a favor.

Steve pushes Tony's t-shirt up his chest, leaving him almost bare, and Tony lets out a tiny whimper.

Steve reaches up to kiss him then, a smile tugging at his lips. "God, I love the sounds you make," he whispers, breath fanning Tony's face.

Tony feels something hot spike inside his belly, a realisation of how bad he wants Steve.

Steve presses their lips together, before turning on his back and pulling Tony on top of him. Tony lifts his shirt over his head, just as Steve sits up so that Tony's now straddling him.

Tony brings Steve in for a kiss again, gripping the back of his head and weaving his fingers through Steve's hair.

He moans as Steve grabs his exposed butt, palming the cheeks and pulling Tony closer to his core.

"Move for me, baby," Steve says and Tony starts moving his hips on command, raking his fingernails down Steve's gorgeous front and leaving red lines in his wake.

Steve moans as Tony grinds, now fully hard from being so exposed he might as well not be wearing the thong. But he is and Steve is still in his pajamas and hell, Tony wants so much more of their skin between them.

Their breaths are getting heavier by the second, as Steve rolls his hips with Tony's, both savoring the friction of their clothed shafts.

Tony moans as Steve latches onto his neck, sucking hard and making him see the brightest of stars. He can feel his heart thump against Steve's, as they move against each other and the exhilaration of it all makes him almost giddy.

Tony wants Steve so bad. He tugs at his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel those lips take him whole. He wants Steve's fingers that are splayed on his ass- inside him, until all Tony can see is pitch blackness. He wants to wear Steve's hoodie when he fucks him, wants to hold his hand and watch the fireworks in July. He wants to dance for Steve until he's out of breath, wants Steve to be his and his only.

He wants more, so much more; he wants all of it but he can't fucking have it and-

"Stop," he says, abruptly pushing off of Steve and falling onto the bed. He pulls his knees to his chin and begins to rock.

Steve looks shocked; and in spite of the puzzled expression on his face, his hair a mess, lips shiny and pink and eyes still dark, he looks so fucking sexy.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, hastily reaching for Tony's hand. He yanks it away.

"What isn't?!" he mutters, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry but bites back the tears.

"What did I do wrong?!"

"You just storm into my life with your stupid proposition and gorgeous face and gentle smile and - and - make me feel all special when I'm just a stupid stripper you found - and- " Tony can hardly breathe, as the words rush out. He can feel the orgasm that had been building curl away from his core, and cold sadness replace it.

"What are we even supposed to be? You treat me like I'm.. all you've ever wanted but you're paying me for all this and I have all of these feelings inside me 'cause y-you're fucking perfect and it's driving me fucking insane!"

Tony doesn't understand why everything inside him is bursting suddenly, but his brain is racing faster than his heart. It's as if the barrier that's been holding in the tide finally breaks.

Steve blinks at him, trying to process the dump of information, before reaching to grab his hand. Tony lets him this time. "If you didn't want this, you could've said so long ago. I wouldn't have forced you-"

"That's not it, you- you- I fucking want this. All of this but- fuck, my head hurts."

Steve squeezes his hand in earnest. He looks so lost, and Tony can tell it's genuine concern that he hears in his voice.

"What do you want? Just tell me," he says gently and the answer is on the tip of Tony's tongue already.

It has been for a while.

"You. I want you."

#i actually wrote a whole series beforehand #stevetony #stony #steve/tony #steve x tony #tony/steve #steve x tony smut #stony au #stony smut #stripper!tony #stony ao3 #usernadine #userastri #my writing

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warmau · 6 years

Text

{Special} College!AU Dowoon

major: character animation

minor: film

clubs: frequents any club he finds interesting, but is never a permanent member. has done everything from surfing club to painting club to opera club

sports: did freshman soccer and then schoolwork took over his life LOL

dowoon is super chill - like he’s never ,,,, stressing out or getting super passionate about anything

he always has the same “life is good” expression on his handsome face and it makes people feel really comfortable around him

because he doesn’t seem like the judgmental or fake type

he doesn’t even have to try to make friends,,,,people gravitate toward him like he’s got some calm magnetic field

jae doesn’t get it - he thinks dowoon can be a real little shit sometimes (but jae thinks this about EVERYONE so,,,,)

while wonpil on the other hand flat out ADORES dowoon

nudges past youngk to sit next to dowoon when they’re eating lunch or running halfway across the quad just to say hi to him

wonpil just points at him like “my tall son”

and dowoon is like “im not your son, but do whatever makes you happy hyung”

the animation majors nicknamed dowoon the koala because he kind of does everything pretty leisurely, but at the same time look serene as hell

also whenever someone draws a koala they give it that calm look on its face,,,,,much like the always calm look on dowoons face

dowoon thinks its cute

but wonpil argues that dowoon is WAY more of a sloth than he is a koala

he choose character animation because he likes cartoons,,,,especially really silly cartoons

youngk or sungjin are always reading those dramatic webtoons or whatever but dowoon enjoys comic strips for quick, funny jokes

and he was always way more of a dreamer than a devoted student,,,doodling cute characters in the margins of his notes rather than jotting down his homework

traditional art like painting and sculpting were never in his interest either

quite honestly he’d snooze whenever his class had to take trips to museums or when he had to take the class on human anatomy sketching

thankfully people liked him enough to nudge him awake when the teacher was looking LOL

he added film as a minor only because he’s interested in story boarding - a lot of his homework is actually done by wonpil and youngk who have vast opinions on cinema

while dowoon is like “uhuh, mhmm, oh ok i should right that in my essay? oh,,,,wait,,,you want to write my essay for me? i mean,,,well only if you want to,,,,”

is the drummer of night6 and decorated the back of his kit with small drawings

everytime someone points them out dowoon is like “i dont know how they got there ^_^”

totally a college student who owns a mickie mouse sweatshirt

totally owns mickie mouse pajamas that he wore to seminar once

messy haired boy with an even messier backpack

“hey,,,prof,,,i left my sketchbook back at the dorm!”

“did you bring anything to class dowoon?”

“,,,,,,,, my sticks,,,,,for drumming?”

you see what i mean

but it’s like lovable he’s like messy, dorky, and loveable

because he might not get his work in on time,,,,but he sure as hell gets his work in

and the glints of passion you can see on dowoon are secluded in his dorm room when he’s drawing

or when he’s on stage drumming

got a love letter from a fan once at a concert and wonpil was like ooooo romance~ love~ whats it say~

and dowoon was like

“it says i remind them of a bean sprout because im getting skinny and i shouldnt lose so much weight”

wonpil: “THATS touchig they care about your hea-”

dowoon: “THERES A DISCOUNT TO A CHICKEN PLACE IN HERE WOOOOOOOOO”

you know the rest of his friends are all like,,,,thinking a little about romance and love - wonpil is literally bursting with it while jae acts like he doesn’t care but lowkey writes all their songs about being lonely

youngk and sungjin too,,,,

but dowoon seems to think of romance as the last thing he’d ever need in his life right now

when people ask about relationships he assumes they’re asking about his friendships

and whenever someone shows interest dowoon reciprocates with absolute obliviousness

he’s just a fun-loving dude who likes to doodle and take naps in the library,,,,,,

that’s all he needs

and those naps in the library are how you meet dowoon

you work in the library, mostly just re-shelving and helping students find textbooks on reserve

you envy the people who got desk jobs checking out books or helping with laptops,,,,,but at the same time you don’t mind the walking around

it helps clear your mind

and one afternoon,,,,you were stuck in the least visited section of the library

there were new books to shelve so you were trying to figure out where they belonged when your foot caught on something

and you almost ended up tumbling over whatever it was,,,,,,stopping yourself from face planting into the floor just in the nick of time

flipping over, you expected to see - a book,,,,a water bottle,,,someones backpack or something

but instead you saw a person

a boy,,,,,,with his legs stretched out and his head leaned back against the shelf

dead asleep

after a moment,,,you clear your throat and the boy jolts a bit

only to rub his sleepy eyes and give you a half smile

“is the library closing?”

he asks with a yawn

you deadpan “no, but you’re also not allowed to sleep in the bookshelf aisles.”

he doesn’t even seem to budge in response,,,,just stares at you with pool of dark brown

“oh”

oh????? is that all he has to say????

“and i just tripped over you, so you can see how it’d be a hazard-”

he slowly gets up, moving one limb at a time before he extends his hand to you

“sorry,,,,,,,,,ill help you up.”

you stare at his outstretched hand,,,but narrow your eyes and get up without his help

dusting off your shirt you give him a glare,,,,,to which he responds with the same dreamy half smile

“you can sleep in the student lounge on the second floor.”

with that you turn, taking your cart of books with you to continue your job

out of the corner of your eye you see the boy scratch the side of his head,,,,blink without thought at the things around him and then make his way out to of the aisle

you untense your shoulders,,,,,sighing

maybe you were too harsh or whatever,,,,but rules are rules and if anyone saw you letting him get away with it - it’d be your job on the line

although maybe you could have been less cold,,,,,

you shrug it off, not interested anymore in a student who you don’t even recognize as you continue working

you make your way over to the next aisle and just as you’re about to pluck a book of the cart you look down and

there’s the same boy

sleeping

you straighten up,,,,staring at the top of his messy dark hair

you clear your throat,,,,but he doesn’t wake up

so you squat down beside him and use your index finger to poke him awake

he does the same little jolt and then turns to you

“hey”

“what did i say about sleeping in the aisles?”

he shrugs, giving the same goofy look to you

“it’s a hazard?”

you resist the urge to go “no shit” and instead motion for him to get up

he does as told,,,,but gives you another half tired smile

“would it be cool if i went back to the aisle you finished shelving? i wont be a bother-”

“no”

he huffs, but the smile never leaves his face

he doesn’t seem fazed by your demands,,,,nor does he seem like he’s going to follow the rules

so you personally walk with him to the staircase and tell him again that the student lounge is free

he thanks you,,,,,,,,which makes you feel a little weird,,,,,and then disappears

you think about it for a bit,,,,,he looks like a slacker - or maybe he’s just the skipping class type

either way,,,,,,you hope you won’t find him in the next aisle

you dont,,,,,thankfully but when you arrive for your shift a couple of days later

you’re back in the same lonely part of the library

and just as you’re about to wheel your cart of books ,,,,, guess who you see

except this time,,,,he’s got a book over his face - as if he dropped it there right as he closed his eyes to sleep

you look at him,,,,crossing your arms

beside him is his open backpack,,,the contents threatening to spill out

his hair is a little messy and peaks out from the book on his face and his pull over hoodie is thrown over his lap like some tiny blanket

you think for a moment that he must have been napping here for a while when you finally decide to lean over and poke him awake again

the books slides off his face and into his lap with a thump

he blink, coming to and then looks over at you

“oh,,,,,,,hey.”

he grins, you take note of his deep voice still laced with sleepyness

“didn’t i tell you a couple of days ago-”

he picks up the book and waves it

“i wasn’t sleeping,,,,i just,,,,dozed off while reading. i can read in the aisles right? that’s not a hazard?”

he innocently asks as you narrow your eyes

“listen,,,,,,i know you were sleeping”

he shrugs his shoulders up and down

“why cant you find somewhere else to take naps-”

you stutter over your sentence,,,,not sure even what this guys name is

“im dowoon, character design major.”

he puts his hand out for you to shake it and you stare at it

“ok, dowoon. you need to find other nap spots.”

he shuffles his hand around his bag and pulls out a tattered looking notebook

“i wont nap, i promise. ill just do some work and then i can stay, right?”

he flips it open to a random page where you can see multiple sketches and notes of different characters

technically,,,,students CAN study in the aisles of the library,,,,,there’s no rule against that

so you nod, going back to your cart of books

dowoon twirls a pencil between his fingers as if to send you off and then looks back down at his notebook

you go about your work,,,,but somewhere in the middle you get the nagging feeling to go check if dowoon really is working or did he rally go to sleep

so,,,,,,,you make your way down the shelves until you reach the one dowoon is in

and to your surprise he isn’t sleeping,,,,he’s actually drawing

and before you can make your quiet escape,,,,,he looks up and smiles

“wanna see what ive done so far?”

you feel a little embarrassed that you were caught,,,,but you nod and dowoon beckons you over

you sit down beside him and he shows you the new page of sketches he’s started

you stare down at one of them, it’s a bookshelf that seems to have come to life and beside it is a character

who looks familiar,,,,,

“that ones based on you,,,,,,i tend to be inspired by those around me.” dowoon says absentmindenly

and you look closer,,,,,shocked that even in such a small cartoonish drawing - there are details about it that do resemble you

you’ve only seen dowoon a couple of times but you’re shocked that he could remember just how you looked and compress it into such a cute drawing

you look up at him and he pushes the pencil behind his ear,,,seemingly content with what he’s gotten done

“well,,,,,as long as you’re not sleeping.”

dowoon nods, taking his book back “nope, plus i have class. see you around.”

he slips it into his bag before getting up and waving as he disappears out of the shelves

you sit there,,,,still thinking about the drawing,,,,,,and how maybe you had misconceptions about him afterall

dowoon does show up to the library again and again

but this time he doesn’t nap,,,,,he actually just spends time drawing

which you actually come to really enjoy

he’s got such a simple, but fun style and he’s always willing to show you new sketches

and instead of him being that student who might get you in trouble,,he becomes someone you really look forward to seeing on your job

and after a bit of time,,,,you think dowoon feels the same way

just from how excitable he gets when you ask to see something and the cute smile he gives you when you push the cart past the aisle he’s in

in one way or another - you feel connected to dowoon,,,,you guys up in this section of the library,,,,,,,just the two of you

plus,,,,,,,,when you catch him sleeping again you let it slide - maybe because you’re sorta friends now

but also because you notice just how handsome he is when he’s asleep, pretty long eyelashes resting on the skin of his cheeks and the slightly curled dark hair that falls a bit into his eyes when he tips his head forward

but then,,,,,,,you come to work one day and dowoon is sitting in the aisle,,,,,,with someone else

they’re flipping through his notebook, giggling and pressing their shoulder against dowoon’s

you don’t know why,,,,but it makes you feel a bit ,, out of place

dowoon looks up just as you try to escape and calls you over

“i drew some more stuff for my class final, that character you like is in-”

you give a curt nod,,,,,,,and dowoon seems to falter when you turn away and shove your cart out of the aisle

but,,,,,,,he doesn’t follow you or anything

and when you find yourself aggravated,,,re-shelving books with way too much force then intentional

you ask,,,,,,,,what are you so upset over?

it’s probably a classmate,,,or a friend,,,,,,or a significant other

the thought of dowoon being with someone isn’t that baffling when he’s got this odd, calming charm to him

with a great face as an addition

but yet when you go up there the next day and dowoon is alone,,,,even then you don’t feel the urge to talk to him

but,,,,cold-shouldering dowoon is hard

not because you feel bad but because,,,,,after you ignore him for a whole week he just,,,,doesn’t show up anymore

and you think well whatever, right? now he’s gone and it’s not like you two bonded deeply or anything

but instead of dowoon in the aisle,,,,you find,,,,,,,,,,,

“im wonpil, you must be the one we’ve been hearing about.”

you look at the guy in front of you,,,,he’s definitely shorter than dowoon and his eyes have a different passion about them

“um,,,,im not sure what you mean?”

wonpil throws his hands up in the air and goes “dowoon! he hasn’t stopped talking about how he made one of the librarians mad! he’s all mopey about it too!”

you hush wonpil, his voice getting louder and remind him that this is still a library

and if anything you aren’t mad at dowoon,,,,you just had to work - this is your job after all

but wonpil doesn’t falter

even in a whispering tone, you can tell he’s still strung up about this

“WELL dowoon thinks you are mad! and believe me, dowoon doesn’t much care about how people feel about it him so you must mean something special.”

you open your mouth to argue but wonpil shakes his head

“no no you don’t GET IT- sorry indoor voice right,,,,,but dowoon has never shown an inkling of interest in anyone before,,,,,you’re,,,,,,you’re the first person he’s ever based a character on too didn’t-”

you pull back a bit, surprised “but,,,he told me he’s inspired by those around him?”

wonpil shakes his head, “inspired sure - but he specifically said he created that little cartoon to see if you’d like it. dowoon draws for himself, i cant even BEG him to make a little doodle for me but for you he’s-”

wonpil is talking a mile a minute and tbh most of it is going over your head at this point

because you don’t understand,,,,,,,you thought you were just another person to dowoon

just that librarian who nagged him before for sleeping in the aisles - but,,,,but now all of a sudden this random friend of dowoons is telling you ,,,,you’re something more??

“please just assure me you’re not mad at him.”

“im not,,,,,” you clutch your books closer to your chest and wonpil sighs

“ok. good. ill tell him and hopefully this is the beginning of something beautiful. gosh i just want dowoon to be in LOVE ALREADY”

you hush him and wonpil quiets down as he pulls his phone out and exits the aisle

you stand there for a bit,,,,,,,,but then turn to ask what the heck wonpil means by ‘love’ but,,,he’s gone

and although the whole thing stays on your mind,,,,work takes all of your attention

and when your shift at the library ends, you’re walking back to the main building of the college to get some late night studying done

when you hear someone call your name

you turn to see dowoon

he looks like he’s just rolled out of bed,,,,wearing baggy overalls over a shirt you’re sure he’s owned for the better part of his life

he’s also got house slippers on which confuses you,,,,,,,did he like,,,,,run here in those?

“wonpil said he talked to you,,” dowoon starts

you nod slowly

“sorry he’s such a weirdo,,,he acts like my mom sometimes and i dont get it ,,,,”

you look down and wait for dowoon to get to the point - the point as to why he’s here after your shift in his damn pajamas for all you know

“he said you’re not mad at me,,,,so i hope i can ask you this and it’s ok,,,,,,,,,do you have time this weekend?”

“why?”

“the animation major is having a film festival thing and i wondered if you’d want to see mine,,,it’s really short like,,,,a minute and a half but y-you’re in it so,,,,”

the shock must be apparent on your face because dowoon is like oh but you don’t have to-

but you agree

you tell dowoon to tell you when and where and you’ll be there

but just as dowoon finishes giving you the details, he seems to want to ask something else

but you hurry off before he can

and the entire time you try to study you keep thinking about what dowoon means,,,,,,,you’re in his movie?

the film festival is really small, it fills up only one of the classrooms but it is filled to the brim

dowoon is surrounded by a group of fellow students, you recognize one of them as the person who was sitting with him in the book aisle

but you try to not let it bug you as you take one of the “free snacks” offered on a tiny table in the corner

dowoon only spots you when the films are about to start and he’s pulled away by a professor before he can come and say hi

you sit there, watching all the different cute films made by all the students

and they’re all amazing, you’ve never been much of an animation fan but the effort put into this works is amazing

and then,,,,,you see dowoon’s name flash across the screen

‘the magic of the library’ is the name of his piece

and it starts off with a character asleep in one of the aisles - until the walking bookshelf accompanied by the character who resembles you wakes him up

and taking his hand,,,,,,,,shows him the wonder of the library

dancing books, spinning desks, computers flashing with smiley faces

and you look at the characters - that are so obviously you and dowoon holding hands

and when it ends,,,,it is as short as he says,,,,,,you catch dowoon’s eye

he flusters when the clapping starts but you see that he’s got doubt on his face - an emotion you’ve never seen

and so,,,,without thinking

you make way through the students and up to dowoon

“did you like i-”

he starts, but you just lean up and press your lips to his cheek

the boys around him all gasp and dowoon turns to color of a lobster but goes

“i,,,im glad you liked it,,,,,,”

“and you! THEY LIKE YOU DOWOON!”

wonpil’s familiar voice comes from your right and everyone in the room goes “SHHH” as the next film starts

you take dowoon’s hand and he squeezes it as you two make your way out of the cramped room

and dowoon goes

“can you kiss me again, sorry i just want to know it happened.”

and you do it

but then dowoon chuckles and go, “sorry - again. i want to feel it again.”

and you’re like boy stop playing around

BUT it’s cute because now you and dowoon know your mutual feelings and,,,,,even though wonpil will probably not shuttup about it if you two go back in there

you’re content with that

but also wonpil’s like wanna ditch this festival and go on a date? and you’re like wont you get in trouble with your professor?

and dowoon shrugs like “it’s worth it”

dating dowoon is a lot of just,,,,,,doing normal things together

and wonpil absolutely LOSING IT over how cute you two are

like you’ll just be sharing a drink and wonpil has tears down his face like dowoon,,,,im so happy for you,,,,,,

it’s wild - but you get used to it

dowoon is a drifter - he likes trying new things but never gets attached to them for too long

like he’ll invite you to this club he found on campus about flower arrnging

and you’ll be like it was super fun! and dowoon is like mhmm, next week lets try rockclimbing

which you’re not really opposed to,,,,dowoon looks like the laze at home type but the reality is that he is super curious and likes to learn whatever he can

which you love about him

it’s always an adventure,,,,,,,,but that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to just cuddling on a rainy afternoon and ordering food online

but - with you it’s different for dowoon

he is in it for the long run and he values your interests a lot,,,,,,,

which is new for him, aside from night6, he’s not really close to anyone

but you are the center of his world,,,,,what you like - he’ll like too because he does wanna support you

and when he asked youngk for fashion advice for one of your dates youngk was so shocked he asked jae if dowoon had a twin brother or something like was this really happening

dowoon is still dreamy though

you guys will be walking somewhere from class and he’ll see one dog across campus and be like i gotta go pet it

even if he’s late for a class

and you have to be like no no no come here e have to go to class and dowoon is like but :( puppy :(

sometimes you’re the only thing keeping him on track to graduating LOL

you also really like watching dowoon practice the drums

he’ll always try to get you to play something and you’re like i cant and he’s like it’s easy to smack the drums

and you’re like thats not how it works babe

and he’s like that’s what ive been doing and it’s been working SO

dowoon doodles you in his notebook but is too embarrassed to show you

you are dowoon’s first real serious relationship and so sometimes he’s a little clutzy with romance but you don’t mind

especially when he gets shy about trying new things ,,,,,, physically

but it’s dowoon - with his big warm body and cute as hell face

in your head you’re like he could do anything to me and id be fine with it but ofc dont say that outloud because the one time you did dowoon almost had a heatstroke

you wear anything that shows skin. dowoon goes into a blushing frenzy

wonpil was convinced before you that dowoon didn’t have the capacity to be jealous

but one time when wonpil was leaning his head against your shoulder and being you know,,,,wonpil

and dowoon literally picked him up and dragged him away

you: oh so strong

dowoon: <3

wonpil: dowoon. dowoon put me down. dowOON

also you don’t really know it but dowoon thinks that a lot of the stuff you do is super adorable

like you once told him you love the library because you love the smell of new books

and he was like,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,you’re the cutest person ever

and you were like hmm and he was like nothing huh books right

dowoon is a sucker for you combing your fingers through his hair,,,,any chance at it he’s like head in your lap and you’re like ok ok i know what you want

for your first anniversary for 100 days he forgot to get flowers so he drew a photo of some flowers and was like,,,,,,is this ok

and you were like ,,,,, how are you so darn cute

still gets fan letters professing love to him and he’s like oh. now i get it they like me and jae is like yeah dude

but dowoon shrugs and is like too bad im taken

dowoon couple matching bracelets (which wonpil is jealous off and wont admit it)

dowoon is the type of love that seems simple and sweet but the reality is that dowoon has never had someone special

and having you has really changed his outlook on life,,,,,like it’s dramatic and sappy to say that

but he’s grown because of falling in love with you and tbh when you ask him

when was the moment he started liking you

he shyly admits that he thought you scolding him in the library for sleeping was super cute

and you’re like what how

and he’s like i like,,,,someone who tells me what to do

you, blushing : o-oh ,,,,,this is good information trjkdlsfj

dowoon lets you wear his hoodie and ur like u should wear one too its cold

and hes like babe,,,,if im being honest,,,,the one you’re wearing is the only clean one i have,,,,,right now,,,,,,,

date: you and dowoon at the school laundromat with him sketching to pass the time and you reading

but you look up every now and then to see if the machine is done and also to kiss when no one else is around ,,,,,,,,,,cute

he’s a soft boyfriend who thinks of a cute nickname for you but is too nervous and shy to say it outloud so he writes it down on a piece of paper and shows it to sungjin

and sungjin is like “you’re nervous to call your own significant other,,,,,,,honey?”

dowoon, ears red: “i dont want to come off corny like you sungjin”

#day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 au #dowoon scenarios #dowoon imagines #dowoon au #day6 dowoon #sfw #day6 #dowoon #im wonpil through this whole thing

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bbbarneswrites · 6 years

Text

Bucharest Diaries | THE LIBRARY

Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Summary: Snapshots of Bucky’s life in Romania. In which he meets someone when he least expects to. Genre: Romance/fluff Rating: T Warnings: Swearings 1,568 words

Notes: OKAY. I’ve been thinking about expanding this whole Bucky in Romania thing and I don’t know what happened today that this came out. It’s really corny though, LMAO. Any Romanian readers out here willing to help a girl out with some info, hmu! The poem down there is originally titled Poveste Sentimentală and both it and the book are written by Nichita Stănescu. Guess that’s it! Happy reading! <3

Tied to The Apartment Chronicles and Two Sides!

Pinterest | Spotify Playlist

Life in Romania is quiet. Dull. Repetitive, at times.

But even so, Bucky doesn’t complain about it. After the shitshow that his life has been, he’s thankful to be just another face in the crowd, just another body to bump against in the street. Despite the blood stained past, he’s content in rebuilding his life as just another random person.

(As random as he can be, that is. Somewhere deep down, Bucky knows this is likely to not last).

Getting settled in Bucharest had been fairly easy for someone like him.

He gets a job. Heavy manual labor, perfect and low-key, no paperwork needed but with fair pay. He gets an apartment. Small and old in a communist era apartment building but just enough for someone like him. No neighbors or tenants.

And then, with time – Bucky builds a routine.

Sometimes he works during the day. Sometimes at night. Sometimes he gets days off. The free nights are mostly meant for his journals. Re-reading them is a good pastime and it often sparkles his supressed memories. In the free mornings, he likes to sleep-in. To feel the softness of his blanket, watch the sun slip through the newspapers covering the windows of his place.

But It’s different when he’s got the whole day.

He can go to the market that stays two blocks away, visit touristic points that aren’t too crowded, walk around the Old Town and hide in the mass of people.

Or like today, pick a book in one of the local libraries.

Trying to look as inconspicuous as someone like him can be – because he might not be an assassin anymore but he still has a figure – Bucky walks from corridor to corridor, eyes silently scanning every book’s spines.

As he reaches the poetry section, he stops by a title. O viziune a sentimentelor. Though he normally wouldn’t go for a poetry book, the name catches his attention like no other did so far.

His fingers reach out for the cream colored book and just when he’s about to pull it out–

“That’s one of the best Romanian books. Ever.”

Bucky can’t help but freeze at the sudden appearance, hand tightly closed around the book, too startled at not hearing the steps after him.

You don’t seem to notice though, your input falling unasnwered in the empty corridor for a few moments as your attention diverges for a row of books in the opposite shelf, your hands trailing through the dust until finally picking up a bright red one.

The soft, whispered ‘a-ha!’ you let out is enough for Bucky to turn around.

Eyes trailing from your feet and up, he stops midway through it. It’s creepy and it might make you uncomfortable. He knows he doesn’t look like the friendliest of men. Between the white sneakers, lace trimmed shorts and white top that flashed a silver of your skin, Bucky doesn’t look up to your face.

Until you speak up again.

“It took me two weeks to read this book.” You mention to the book in his hands with your own, an amused smile forming on your lips as you roll your eyes. “The Romanian was a bitch to crack through.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything – feeling suddenly torn about striking a conversation or posing as an uneducated son of a bitch.

You don’t mind the brief silence, taking the time to watch him.

Even though the summer is just a few weeks away, he wears a heavy, maroon jacket. You know the gray top underneath is long-sleeved too. Black cap and black glove and jeans, brown hair brushing against the light stubble of his jaw. He’s tall and his broad shoulders are nothing but imposing.

If by chance you’d met him after a night-out in Old Town with your friends, you’d switch for the other sidewalk.

Right now, he looks somehow familiar. Despite everything, he manages to look soft as he finally talks to you.

“My Romanian is rusty.” He says, lips pursing for a small moment as he shrugs and clears his throat, blue eyes settling on you again. “It will be good practice.”

At the realization he speaks English too, you smile. And Bucky swears it lights up your face, the gloss of your lipstick looking more appearent as you do.

In another time of this life, he knows exactly what his old self would do. For the first time in months, he wishes to be like him again – easy with words and blessed with natural charm. To be the guy a pretty girl would give the time of her day.

He’s on the run but he’s not blind. He knows you’re pretty.

(Even more when you bite your lip. Not that he should be noticing all that).

“Then you should have this one.” You shake the book in your hand, cheeks warming up when his gaze lifts from your lips to your eyes again. “For practice.”

You hand him the bright red covered book and Bucky reads in worn golden letters. Poezii by one Mihail Eminescu.

When he looks up again, you have a smirk playing on your lips, fingers pulling another book from the shelf. A green one with similar golden letters. He can’t read the title, not even when you hold it against your chest and start walking backwards and out of the poetry section.

“This one is yours.” Bucky retorts, two books fitting easily between his metal fingers, lips quirking in an unexpected side smile. “I don’t mind waiting one more week.”

The words feel odd at the tip of his tongue – somehow flirty, almost feeling like an invitation, a plead.

And just before you turn around to leave–

“I don’t mind it either.” You tip your head to one side and raise your free hand, pressing a single finger to your smiling lips. “One week.”

An invitation that you take it.

One week that turns into two and then turns into three and soon it’s a month (and a half).

You become friends.

Bucky learns a lot about you in the short period.

He knows you’re an interchange student that switched the last year of your graduation to try your luck somewhere else. He knows you’ve been reading Romanian novels to improve your language skills because you’re terrible at it. He knows you like fashion and he always takes note on your clothes.

He watches – it’s a natural trait of the soldier – and he learns a lot about you in the short period.

Quirks, likes and dislikes, moods.

Bucky draws a line at friendship but it’s hard to ignore the feeling flaring in his chest everytime you smile around him.

You never ask anything about him. As far as it goes, he’s just an American man trying life in different country. Bucky guesses you might think he’s a veteran, a regular soldier with a backstory similar to many men that come back from war.

(He almost wants to be suspicious at your disinterest. But it’s you so he doesn’t).

His routine is a little less dull now. His days off are spent in the library and each time he comes back home with a new novel to read, often Romanian authors you’ve heard in your classes.

Sometimes his late mornings are replaced for early meetings, like today, as he watches you switch from tab to tab in your laptop, sitting in a study desk at the back of the room with books and papers all around you.

And between watching every little detail from you – to the little flowers in your pants to the glitter of your nails, Bucky frowns in confusion when you smile softly at the screen.

“Look at this poem.” You say quietly, turning the laptop screen to his direction with a knowing smile, your shoulder brushing against his as you rest back on the chair. “Nichita Stănescu.”

As he leans closer, words in Romanian come to him as easily as if it’s in English.

Then we met more often. I stood at one side of the hour, you at the other, like two handles of an amphora. Only the words flew between us, back and forth. You could almost see their swirling, and suddenly, I would lower a knee, and touch my elbow to the ground to look at the grass, bent by the falling of some word, as though by the paw of a lion in flight. The words spun between us, back and forth, and the more I loved you, the more they continued, this whirl almost seen, the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.

Ignoring his ridiculously fast beating heart, and how much the poem speaks to both of you, Bucky turns his head to you–

Already looking at him, with your lips miserable inches away from his own. And he doesn’t pull back. Maybe because he’s too startled. Or maybe because he simply doesn’t want to.

“It’s beautiful.”

You sigh and it falls right into his mouth. Bucky recognizes the poem from the book he got when he met you and he knows what it means, how it fits what you have, if there’s something to think of. He pulls back anyway.

“It is.”

He doesn’t specify what but he knows you know by the way you look at him.

Bucky draws a line.

And he thinks everything will be fine – at least until the nightclub incident happens.

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dying--star · 7 years

Text

Medicine -Phan One-Shot

Based on Medicine by Daughter

Warnings: depression and talks of suicide

WC: 2,926

Cars passed by blindly in a whirlwind of colours. It was impossible to tell which colour belong to which car and which car belonged to each blow of wind. Silvers mixed in with the white and it was impossible to tell which it was. Blues mixed in with black creating an illusion of a haunted shadow passing by. But there was one colour that stood out; the reds were passing by drawing every attention in: Anger

A boy-man- was staring out into what felt like the never ending abyss of cars coming and going. Families were rushing by and bustling to the destinations. The man numbly sat, ignoring the passing strangers heading to who knows where, mindlessly picking at the skin around his nails. "Dan." The man felt a hand softly touch his shoulder before there was a soft squeeze. "Dan, your therapist is ready to see you now." Dan turned his head and was met with a rush of icy blue. The icy blue that belong to his one and only best friend. His eyes slowly trailed down to his pink lips and continued past the nape of his neck and to his hand that was still curled over Dan's shoulder; the fingernails chewed down to the nail bed from anxiety for his friend. Phil smiled down at his friend as he continued to blink at the hand before slowly nodding and shifting to get ready to stand up. Phil's hand fell from Dan's shoulder to his side where he quickly brought it up to wipe at the stray tear that was threatening to spill out. He silently followed Dan back into the building. The door creaked open and a bell cheerfully dinged above their heads. He continued to follow after his best friend and slipped into the room that belonged to his therapist. They both sat on the faux leather couch that squeaked everytime you moved a centimeter. Dan's therapist was sat across from them in her desk chair, legs folded and notebook resting in her lap. "So, Daniel, how are you today?" She asked. Phil didn't have to look to his right to know that Dan wasn't going to answer. He was going to continue to stare at the once-white walls that were chipped in certain areas. He was going to continue to drown in his own mind that only seemed to be a spiraling hell hole like he did almost every time they tried to talk about his feelings. Phil felt the tears begin to burn his eyes, fighting to hold them in for the sake of Dan. A knot was forming in his throat and he could feel the sob clawing to be released. "Phil?" She questioned, turning her attention to him. "How's he doing from what you've witnessed." A rush of air went past Phil's lips and his lungs began to heave when the first sob escaped. The tears already began to roll down his cheeks and there was no use to stopping them. He felt someone touch his hands and looked down to see Dan's fingertips grazing the skin across the top of his hand. "H-he's disintegrating and-" He hated watching this. He hated having to sit there and watch his best friend slip farther and farther away from him with each passing day. Hell, it seemed more like with each passing minute. Phil was terrified of the day when he might wake up Dan wouldn't be there. Okay, maybe Dan would be there physically but emotionally he would be gone. It already seemed like Phil was talking to a wall most of the time. The only hint that Phil got that Dan was still in there somewhere was the occasional brush of fingers for encouragement or comfort.

The medicine was eating away at him.

Phil began to plead with Dan’s therapist, “Y-you have to take him off of the anti-depressants. They're n-not helping him. They're killing him! Can't you s-see that!”

Dan’s therapist sighed and looked over the two men sitting there, “Phil, it takes a while for the medicine to kick in. Dan's still there and he always will be. It’ll just take some time for it to kick in.”

“You can't possibly tell me that it takes a while or that Dan is there. He's not. He barely speaks to me anymore. He doesn't touch me or barely even acknowledges that I’m still there.” Phil argued. She couldn't say that because Dan was only getting worse. He only wanted one thing in the world but Phil was struggling so much to make it happen. It happened once years ago and that was the only time Phil had ever heard that word come out in such an honest way.

“I just want to be happy, Phil.”

Dan sincerely told Phil. Phil watched through his computer screen as Dan leant his head on the mattress of his bed. Dan sighed and looked into Phil’s eyes through the shitty webcam. The older man shifted and brought his knees up to his chest to rest his chin on. He chewed on his bottom lip and he could physically see the light dimming from Dan’s eyes.

“Come to Manchester.” Phil finally said.

Dan sat up straight after hearing those three words, “What?”

“Come to Manchester.” Phil repeated with much more excitement this time. He watched as Dan practically freaked out and stood from his seat on the ground. He could see feet pacing in front of him and then the laptop being picked up. He smiled at the thought of Dan freaking out in front of him. He knew Dan’s mind was probably going haywire with all the possibilities with how them meeting would play out.

Dan’s feet went out of view and Phil could hear him slightly whisper ‘oh my god’ under his breath. He could still hear him shuffling and then a crash resonated from the speakers. Finally, Dan's face came into vision, blush evident on his cheeks, “Phil, you said you didn't know if you were ready for us to meet face to face yet.”

That part was true. The two had started talking months ago when Phil took notice of the then-teen commenting on all of his youtube videos and social medias. Over the span of those months they learned a lot about each other and also had skype calls that lasted for hours. However, they had never met in person. Phil was just too busy in uni to actually be able to have Dan as a guest or to visit Reading himself.

“I know what I said but I feel like now is the best time for us to actually meet up. I don't have that much work from uni right now and…” Phil trailed off as a blush spread across his cheeks as well, “And I want you to be happy. Happy like you deserve.”

Almost two weeks later, Dan boarded the train in Reading and got off at the platform in Manchester. Phil was waiting there and Dan fell into Phil’s arms with tears in his eyes. He was real. His best friend was actually real and in his arms. Phil had felt on top of the world as he hugged back, not believing that this was actually happening either. That day, Dan went back to Phil’s place with him and Phil’s parents finally met the person their son wouldn't stop talking about.

Later that night, they were lazily lounging in Phil’s room. Phil took notice of how Dan kept shifting or fidgeting with something and asked him what was wrong. Dan’s head snapped up towards Phil and he blushed with the widest smile on his face, dimples carving into his cheeks, “I’m just so happy.”

And Phil knew he meant it.

Phil wiped at the semi-dry tears on his cheeks and glanced back over at Dan. He was looking intently down at his hands in his lap. That was the only and last time Phil ever heard Dan say he was happy and actually mean it. After that night, he started falling again and Phil promised himself that he would make sure he was happy again. That's why Phil talked Dan into going to a therapist. There he was diagnosed with depression and there he was prescribed the very medication that was disintegrating his mind.

I just want to be happy.

>-<

Phil could hear Dan shuffling around in the other room. He could hear the dull drag of his feet along the grey carpet and the ruffling of a cord trailing after him. He was trying to film a video. Phil stood up and went to the lounge door, “Dan?” He turned around at the sound of his name and Phil shook his head, disapproving of the camera in his hand, “Put the camera down.”

Dan glanced down at the black electronic in his hand and then back up towards Phil, “But YouTube. I have to make a video.”

“No you don't. I’ll tell them that we're taking a break from YouTube for a while. They’ll understand that we can't do these things right now. Your health is a priority.” Phil was sure of that. He knew that their real fans would understand if they needed a little time out for their mental health.

Dan narrowed his eyes at Phil, “My health has never been a priority to me and you know it.”

“Well maybe it's time you start putting it as a priority!” Phil snapped. He hardly ever yelled at Dan and every single time it pained him. Dan stood shocked in front of him, eyes wide, and seeming to physically cave in on himself. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you.” Phil whispered as Dan’s eyes started to fill with tears.

Phil heard Dan sigh and then the crash of the camera falling to the carpeted ground. “I can't do this any more.” Phil heard Dan whisper.

“Do what?”

“This.” Dan said and turned to retreat back to his room.

Phil stared at Dan’s retreating form, “What do you mean by this?” Phil had asked, thinking he meant living in a house with Phil, youtube, or just them being friends. What Dan said next shattered the remaining pieces of Phil’s already damaged heart.

“Life.”

Phil watched as Dan’s door clicked shut before letting a stray tear fall down. That was the worst thing he could ever hear from the boy. Phil knew he was broken but he didn’t know that he was completely shattered. He had completely given up on life and ever becoming happy. Phil stood still for a couple of moments before his feet carried him to Dan’s room, stepping over the most likely broken camera now. He knew Dan liked his privacy but he wasn't going to allow it at a time like this. A time where Dan was a risk to himself and so broken down.

When he opened the door, Dan was sitting on the ground beside his bed with the bottle of anti-depressants in his hands. Phil watched as the younger man looked over the label on the bottle and then shook the almost new bottle of pills. “It's crazy, right?”

Phil padded into the room and took a seat next to Dan. He didn't make any moves to take the bottle away from Dan. He just watched his slow movements. “What's crazy?” He decided to ask.

Dan let out a laugh, “The thing that's supposed to help me is killing me.” He paused and looked at Phil because he knew Phil thought he had no clue what was going on. He did. He just couldn't stop it. “Yeah, I know what it's doing to me. People always say that depression is a silent killer. It comes out of the darkness and latches onto you. Before you realize anything, it's already dragging you down to your own grave. I’ve never wanted to kill myself, Phil. But for some reason the thought is now planted and rooted it's way in my mind.” Dan's hand tightly squeezed the bottle in his hand, “I don't want to die, Phil. But I also want to stop feeling numb to everything and I don’t know any other way.”

I just want to be happy.

He had been battling depression for years without his full knowledge and without doctor diagnosis. He had suffered for no reason and is still suffering even with the help of medication. His doctor just wouldn't take him off the things that were making him worse. No one except Phil had personally seen how much it has affected him. Hell, only a handful of people knew he had depression to begin with.

“Dan, I want you to be happy. You have no idea how much you being happy means to me. You’ve got a warm heart and a beautiful brain that always thinks of others first. I know you may not feel it but…” Phil paused and lifted Dan’s head so he could look him in the eyes, “You could still be what you want to. What you said you said you were when I met you. Can you trust me?”

Dan kept his eyes on the bottle, picking at the paper label on it. His other hand was slightly tapping the plastic. He chewed on his bottom lip before nodding his head and slowly looking over to Phil. “I trust you. I’ll always trust you.”

Phil then reached over and slipped the bottle out of Dan's hand. “I’m going to take these and put them up somewhere.” Phil said, “I don't want you to take those anymore.”

“But Phil, how am I supposed to stop feeling like this?” Dan asked, looking taken aback by Phil's resolution, “I can't stop feeling like this just because you want me to.”

Phil sighed and went to stand up but Dan grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back down, “Anything is better than what you're feeling right now.” Phil clarified. He stood up and walked out of Dan’s reaching distance.

Dan just shook his head, “But, what if I get worse?” Phil didn't say anything to Dan, leaving him sitting there wondering what he was doing. Dan could hear the sounds of drawers being opened and things being shuffled around. Dan then heard the sound of his feet coming back towards him. In his hands was a leather bound notebook.

Phil came closer to Dan and sat across from him; their knees touching. Phil passed the brown notebook to Dan who gripped it lightly in his hands, trailing over the material, “I want you to write in here once a day. More if you need it. You can write whatever you want and it can even be things like what you did that day.”

“But Phil-”

“I know depression doesn't really stop on it's own but there are some things I want to try and maybe you'll get better without the use of the stuff that's killing you. When I first started to notice the medicine taking the opposite affect on you, I did some research on depression. There are some things we can do that could help and I’m willing to help if you want to do them as well. And I know you seem to try to hide what you're feeling around me but I don't want you to. I want you to be able to show me anything that way we can work together. That's what best friends are for. We can get through anything together.” Phil explained and took one of Dan's hands, rubbing the skin soothingly.

“Phil, my therapist doesn't want me to go off my medication.” Dan said worriedly.

Phil’s grip tightened on Dan’s hand. “She doesn't see what it's doing to you. She doesn't know how you used to be. And to be quite frank, I don't want her to be your therapist anymore. We can go to a new therapist and you can try talking to them. A month from now, if it's still bad, we can try medication again.”

I just want to be happy.

“I want you to be happy.”

Tears stung Phil’s eyes and Dan took notice of them. Very slowly, Dan started to nod at what Phil was asking. They could try it and if it didn't work, Dan could just try medicine again. ‘What else do I have to lose in a month’ Dan thought.

“Let’s do it.”

So, Dan stopped taking the medicine that was disintegrating his mind. He got a new therapist and he started writing his thoughts down. It was difficult. Some days he wanted to hide that he wasn't improving and others all he wanted to do was take comfort in Phil. Phil was true to his word when he said they could try the medication if Dan still felt the same dull numbness. A month after he stopped taking his medication, they asked Dan's new therapist if there was any way he can start medication again and this time a different type.

It took a while for improvements to start showing up. It was small things that would seem unimportant to others like finally making himself something to eat or actually managing to take a shower and change his clothes. They were tiny but they meant so much to Dan. Most of the time, it was still a feeling of nothing, numbness. But for the second time in the longest of times, he felt something he didn't think he'd ever feel.

He felt that he had a chance at happiness.

#phan #phandom #mine #phanfiction #phanfic #i just want to be happy #medicine #depression #i'm sorry it's so sad #phan oneshot

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jintheawkward · 7 years

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in the eternal happiness | oneshots

1) the one where the maknae line is just a bunch of ogling weirdos (taejin/jinmin/jinkook) 2) the one where jimin ships it and taehyung just wants to protect their baby brother (namjin) 3) the one where seokjin finds the perfect nickname for taehyung (taejin) 4) the one where seokjin doesn’t even like raw food (jinmin) 5) the one where jungkook is too proud to say it (jinkook)

ao3

1) the one where the maknae line is just a bunch of ogling weirdos (taejin/jinmin/jinkook)

“i don’t get called in any other apartments as much as i do into your place,” seokjin huffs as he leans over the sink with a flashlight, inspecting the insides of the drain taehyung and jimin put a lot of effort to clog.

the hem of his t-shirt rides up a bit at the back, and the boys gulp in unison at the sight of the strip of skin and the pair of cute back dimples. “i’m almost afraid to ask what are you, guys, usually doing in the kitchen instead of cooking like other normal people.”

“just the usual stuff, hyung.”

“what stuff can possibly involve a rubber duck in your crusher?”

jimin pulls his friend aside and nudges him in the ribs. “seriously, tae? a rubber duck?”

“i ran out of ideas,” taehyung whispers back with a shrug. “what about inviting namjoon hyung? we could just leave him in the kitchen for a sec and the kitchen would explode on its own.”

“we need a reason to call a plumber, not firemen.”

“looks like I will have to check your drain trap as well,” seokjin calls out, already getting on his knees and crawling under the sink.

“you can check whatever of mine you want,” taehyung mumbles with his gaze fixed on seokjin’s lower body where the washed-out jeans has stretched over his ass, hugging him tightly just at the right places.

“what?”

“eh, just, let us now if you need anything,” says jimin, clearing his throat to shake off the spell that seems to be cast on him whenever the handsome plumber bends over.

their quiet giggles shared over the pictures they have so far managed to snap from the most ridiculous angles gets interrupted by a beeping sound as their roommate punches in the entry code. the minute of shuffling at the door is followed by a slam of door, and soon enough, jungkook rushes into the kitchen, dumping his backpack mindlessly somewhere on the floor.

“hi, hyung!”

“hey, jk,” seokjin hums in response, still half-buried in the cabinet, before he turns over onto his back.

“i thought you had a lecture,” jimin mouths innocently at jungkook with a question in his eyes.

“luckily it got cancelled, you traitors,” hisses jungkook while he digs in the pocket for his own cellphone to capture the perfect view (or man) spread out in front of him.

2) the one where jimin ships it and taehyung just wants to protect their baby brother (namjin)

„oh, come on. it’s cute.“

taehyung looks up from his bass just in time to catch seokjin shaking in laughter at the other end of their practice room. there‘s a bloom of pink dusting his cheeks as he giggles with his hand clasped over his mouth at something the other boy, now sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, has said.

„no,“ taehyung growls, not understanding jimin at all. weren’t twins supposed to pull together all the time? „it’s disgusting. this is jinnie we’re talking about. our little brother.“

„so?” sighing, jimin crosses his arms over his chest because taehyung has been just acting weird about the whole thing. seokjin’s very obvious infatuation with absolutely clueless namjoon has actually become jimin’s guilty pleasure that he looks forward to everytime his younger brother stops by at their practices or gigs. “you can’t keep him to yourself forever. he’s a blooming teenager– it’s only natural that he wants to date.“

„why does it have to be namjoon, though? out of all people?“ taehyung groans and aggressively strums the strings in frustration, which makes jungkook and hoseok turn their head questioningly from their own guitars which they have been trying to tune up.

jimin furrows slightly at the implication. „what’s bad about jin crushing on our drummer? you know namjoonie.“

„exactly,” taehyung deadpans. “i mean, he’s older than jin… “

„gosh, just by two years…“

„which means two years of more experience! and what about the lyrics he has written for us so far? you think I don’t know why is his laptop always infected?“

„stop overreacting,” says jimin, rolling his eyes at him. taehyung might be the older twin but jimin is definitely the cooler one. “should we talk about the content of your hard drive?“

just as taehyung is about to defend himself and pull out the hyung card, namjoon chooses that moment to slam his hand against one of his cymbals by accident.

„look! he’s so clumsy! a walking disaster!“

both of them watch seokjin jump to his feet with a look of worry upon his face, immediately scrutinizing namjoon’s hand as if it was nearly falling off or something. namjoon is trying to wave it off, but he only hits himself again.

„he’s like an adorable foal standing on his legs for the first time,” jimin replies and can’t help himself but smile. “so harmless. and so oblivious. i’m shipping this so hard.“

„jin!” taehyung calls when it seems that his brother is holding onto namjoon’s hand a second longer than it’s really necessary. “bring your hyung a can of soda, would you?“

he narrows his eyes at namjoon, who blinks a few times in confusion. filled with burning determination, taehyung turns back to jimin. „i won’t allow this. this is not happening, not on my watch.“

3) the one where seokjin finds the perfect nickname for taehyung (taejin)

„hyung,“ taehyung coos, planting a kiss on seokjin’s cheek as he, somehow, squeezes himself behind seokjin on the sofa to hug him from behind. after some wiggling and shifting, taehyung wraps his legs and arms around his waist, hooking his chin over seokjin’s shoulder like he always does.

„hm?“

taking his eyes off the tv, seokjin sits back against taehyung and tilts his head, bumping it lightly against his boyfriend’s head. taehyung draws back a little, at which seokjin turns sideways to see him properly.

„nothing,“ taehyung replies with that sweet smile that reminds seokjin of the little boy from the pictures that taehyung’s mother showed him when seokjin came to officially meet taehyung’s parents.

with that very same smile adorning his face now, taehyung leans down and pecks the older on lips.

then, out of nowhere, he bites seokjin at the shoulder.

„yah,“ seokjin yelps before smacking the other boy’s hand in fake outrage.

taehyung only chuckles and snuggles in closer, putting his head back on seokjin’s shoulder. meanwhile, his hand slides under seokjin’s sweater, only to settle somewhere near his navel, his thumb stroking the sensitive flesh in a lazy manner that sends shivers down seokjin’s spine.

when a moan escapes his lips, seokjin knows he had enough so he untangles taehyung’s limbs and pulls him in his lap instead.

„you’re driving me crazy,“ he says in a quiet hush, not sure why he’s whispering in the first place.

„glad to hear that.“

there’s a sparkle in taehyung’s gaze as his fingers trace the lines of seokjin’s face, gently running along his forehead, cheekbones and jawline. taehyung stops at seokjin’s mouth with his thumb resting lightly against the lips, and caresses the bottom one with the pad of his finger, his deep eyes following each move of his hand.

it’s when taehyung lowers his head down to let his mouth stroke the plump lips that seokjin realizes he has been holding his breath in anticipation the whole time.

taehyung’s face is so close now that it blurs a little, but his intimate look does not falter so seokjin instinctively closes his eyes under the weight of the intense stare.

a tip of taehyung’s tongue, warm and hesitant, darts out to flick over seokjin’s lips before he licks at his mouth. both of them can feel the little vibrations of seokjin’s low humming as they are kissing. it’s slow and thorough, leisurely in a way that leaves them relaxed and dazed when they finally break apart.

smiling, taehyung stretches his arms above his head contentedly, like a cat after a nap.

seokjin only shakes his head in amusement. „you’re like a snickerdoodle. sweet but full of spice.“

„i like that nickname,” taehyung says and it’s a full-beam smile by the time he drops his hands and links them behind seokjin’s neck. „i think i want some of those cookies. do you think you could actually make some now?“

4) the one where seokjin doesn’t even like raw food (jinmin)

seokjin absent-mindedly pokes into the too-healthy-looking rolls on his plate.

“this is a third time only this week we’re having lunch at this place,” says namjoon around a mouthful of something they actually call pizza here, which seokjin thinks is quite a stretch.

“yeah?”

“you don’t even like raw food.”

“I’m trying to get in shape,” says seokjin and it’s not a complete lie - chuseok has definitely taken its toll on him.

“and you hate sitting on high chairs at the bar counter,” namjoon continues, “because apparently you’re not a kid anymore and the way your legs dangle in the air distracts you.”

“what if i wanted to spend some quality time with my friend and this is the only place nearby that serves the rabbit food he eats?”

“see? that’s exactly what i’m talking about.”

“i’ve changed my mind, okay?” seokjin sighs and takes a bite. it doesn’t taste bad, but it’s not a medium steak either.

“just admit there’s another reason for you to keep coming back. and it’s not even on the menu,” namjoon grins knowingly. “maybe a sweet, dumpling-like waiter you’d actually rather eat out than eat up.”

“may i refill your pomegranate juice? or get you anything else?”

suddenly, the subject of their conversation appears in front of them, all smiling and looking unbelievably cute in the ugly muddy-green uniform. seokjin suppresses the urge to immediately tear it off of him.

“uh…” seokjin gulps, staring blankly at the young man beaming at him like a hundred-watt lightbulb while namjoon has the nerve to snort.

seokjin refrains himself from shouting ‘karma’ right into the asshole’s face when namjoon drops his pizza slice, the greenish sauce smearing on the front of his shirt.

“be right back,” namjoon huffs before retreating to the bathroom.

“so…”

“right, right, the juice!” seokjin squeaks out, groaning internally at his inability to keep it cool when charming sunshines are involved. “i’d like more of the juice, please.”

“anything for your dear-“

“that’s just my colleague! we’re only friends.”

the other man laughs, carefully pouring seokjin’s drink. “I was about to say companion, but okay, good to know that. i’m jimin.”

“seokjin.”

“nice to meet you,” jimin nods with his mouth stretched into a bright smile and seokjin swears he’s in love. “i’ve seen you here few times, but you don’t seem to enjoy the food very much…”

“you’re very attractive,” seokjin blurts out as if it would explain anything, realizing too late what kind of bomb he has just dropped.

judging from the blush rising in his cheeks, jimin is equally surprised and lacks the air of bravado and confidence that usually surrounds him.

“thank you,” he says, shyly dropping his eyes. “actually, you’re the really handsome one here.”

seokjin is used to hearing compliments like that all the time but something in jimin’s voice makes him feel all soft and gooey.

however, the nice talk might end before it gets to start properly since they notice namjoon emerging from bathroom, the stain on his shirt even worse than it was before.

in record time, jimin grabs one of the napkins on the counter and scribbles down a row of number and then, pushes it towards seokjin.

“call me?”

seokjin only manages to nod like a love-struck idiot, which makes jimin laugh again.

he’s about to leave but remembering something, he turns back to seokjin and leans in closer over the bar.

“and just so you know,” jimin whispers with a grin, “i would definitely let you eat me out.”

5) the one where jungkook is too proud to say it (jinkook)

even with the fan right in front of his face, the room still feels too hot and the tank top seokjin’s wearing sticks disgustingly to his body.

“just take it off,” says jungkook on the other side of the screen, and despite the poor connection and grainy video, seokjin can see his characteristic eyeroll. “my innocence won’t suffer, i promise.”

seokjin ignores his smirk.

“so how are things back home?”

“same, boring. what about you?” jungkook asks with a sigh. “everyone keeps asking when you are returning, even the rice cake ajumma. no wonder, her incomes must have dropped rapidly with her main glutton out of town.”

“rude.”

“even jjangu seems to look for you everyday. you should come back before this becomes another hachiko story.”

“i doubt that,” seokjin snorts, thinking of his old ungrateful dog, “he must be thrilled since there’s no one to bother him.”

“how can you know that?” jungkook furrows and straightens in the chair. “jjangu might not act like it all the time, but he cares about you a lot.”

“okay,” seokjin retorts carefully, sensing that something is off. “jungkook, what-“

“man, the hot and humid weather is extra unbearable today,” complains yixing as he bursts into their shared room and plops down on his bed, immediately tossing his shirt away. “what are you doing?”

“skyping with jungkook.”

with a new-found energy, yixing scrambles to his feet and leans over seokjin in a matter of few seconds, draping all over him because that’s how yixing is.

“so this is your little boyfriend.”

jungkook winces in surprise as a new face squeezes into the frame, and seokjin notices the way his features slightly stiffen.

“the way you say it makes me look like a pedo.”

“he’s adorable,” yixing grins whereas jungkook is trying to process the sudden amount of chinese thrown at him. “just the type i thought you would be dating.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing. just that you’re very predictable when it comes to cute stuff,” yixing says, squishing seokjin’s face, and peels himself off him. “well i’m out, third-wheeling isn’t really my thing. keep it pg, kids.”

“so that was yixing, my roommate. a really cool guy,” seokjin breathes out once the door closes behind yixing.

“he seems to be,” jungkook murmurs, fiddling with his fingers. “touchy and very naked too.”

“what?”

“just that you two look really close, especially for people who've met few weeks ago.”

“jungkook, are you jealous?”

“no, why would i? i’m just stating what i see. good to know you’re enjoying yourself there,” his boyfriend shrugs like he doesn’t care but seokjin knows that it isn’t the case.

“why don’t you just admit that you miss me?”

jungkook’s eyes widen in embarrassment. “no, that’s not-“

“because i miss you a lot,” seokjin interrupts, feeling that he needs to let this off his chest quickly.

“you do?” there’s a hint of hopeful joy in jungkook’s voice this time that makes him sound so young and vulnerable. seokjin just wants to kick himself because he should have noticed all the signs earlier.

“of course, i do. what is he doing now? has he eaten his lunch yet? is he struggling with his math homework again? did he go for his evening jog? or was he too tired after his dance practice? everyday, I think about how much I want to hold your sweaty hand, jokingly pat your butt, kiss that little scar on your cheek. so yeah, i do miss you.”

even though jungkook isn’t looking at him, seokjin knows the boy is smiling.

“i miss you too, hyung. i miss you very much.”

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theheirsofhell · 5 years

Text

Because mun can’t sleep and im listening to nice music have this Story of melech.

Sitting at a small coffee shop, a young man in his mid 20′s sits in a chair in the back. Having the perfect view of the shop, there were several people already inside. A cute little elderly couple playing checkers in a little booth. The wife seems to be wining as she always smiles as she takes her husbands checkers. A man in a suit who seems to be patently waiting for his overly complicated order for his equally complicated boss, and a college student who seems to be in their own little zone as they were using the stores free wifi to either figure out some term paper that is about due, or is about to be late.

The coffee shop itself was rather decent looking. Having a rustic feel to it, it almost had the air that things were going to be okay in there, but that might just be because of the strong smell of coffee in the air. Everyone knows that the smell of coffee tended to calm people down fairly quickly, especially now that it was the dreaded pumpkin spice season again. While most people either loved it or hated it, the young man in the back of the shop was one of the few people who only liked it just a little bit. Though he would never admit that to anyone.

Sighing as he closed his laptop he pinches the bridge of his nose. Staring at it for far too long, his eyes were starting to hurt. “Come on Melech. you have to think. The story isn’t going to write itself.” He mutters to himself as he takes a drink of his coffee.

Stuck in his own funk, the young man who had just addressed himself is a new upcoming author who has already wrote several books. While most have been rather popular, he was currently stuck with the idea he currently had. Feeling burnt out from writing the typical mystery book, he wanted to venture out and do something different as he lost his spark for his favorite genre; mystery.

Only making a few books, and several short stories he was already burnt out by it all, though he made the unfortunate mistake and signed the contract with the devil... Well so to speak. Mrs, Veronica was a demon with an ugly face. The type of face not even a mother could love. Looking quite ancient as she had thinning white hair, and wrinkles for days, many people called her a witch with how strict she was with deadlines, and unfortunately our young friend Melech here was drawing close to his, and had nothing remotely ready for the hag.

Everytime he would open his laptop he would try to write, but unfortunately nothing but garbage would come, or he would find that it would grow harder and harder to press the keys on it’s keyboard. Believing that it was just the area he was in that kept distracting him, he had left the big city he was so used to, and decided to come to the rather quite town just a few hours away.

Believing that he would find inspiration from the rather quaint town as the colored leaves blanketed the sidewalks and yards. Though it seemed he was greatly mistaken as not even an ounce of inspiration hit him. “This is useless, I just need to go back to the hotel room and sleep. I’ll think of something tomorrow.” He thinks to himself as he was about to shut down his laptop. Turning his head as the bell rang to indicate someone had came in, his eyes widened as he saw the angel who just walked in.

Having long hair as bright of a red as the leaves in the trees outside, he couldn’t help but to stare at her. Seeming like the room just lit up, he couldn’t descried this woman with no other word than stunning. Even then, the word held no candle to how lovely she looked. Too focused on her, he didn’t realize that she had came over it sit by him in the other only really comfortable chair in the shop.

“Hey? Hello? Earth to the other person, Are you okay?” The red haired woman asks as she waves her hand over his face. Quickly snapping him back to reality, he blushes as he jumped some. “Y-yeah pretty lady?” He asked as he only blushed more as he realized he said that out loud.

Frowning slightly as her dark green eyes looked at him, she laughs softly as she sits down. “Pretty Lady huh? Well I suppose that is a nice hello.”She teases as as she fixes her white and black plan jacket. “But this pretty Lady has a name, and she may, and or not tell you it.” She smirks as she watches him, clearly finding enjoyment over his flustered reaction. .

“S-sorry.” She stammers out as he was blushing rather horribly at this point. “I um, I just got distracted is all.” He says with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh?” She asks as her smirk returned. “And I take it you were were distracted by this pretty lady?” She asked as he shook his head.

“No! Of course not, I wouldn’t stare at you. I mean you are a gorgeous woman, but I’d never stare at you!” He yells as he realizes how insulting it sounded. Quickly trying to recover he really should have stopped talking at this point as he had developed the horrid case of not shutting up.

“I mean it’s not like guys won’t stare at you. I mean you are probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen! But you know not sounding creepy, and now after saying that out l can see just how creepy that sounds. I’m not a creep. I respect woman, and I think women are great! Go women!” He says as the other just looks at him like he was crazy.

“Oh god dammit melech, you seriously need to shut the fuck up at times.” He thinks to himself as to his suprise the woman starts laughing. Not a soft cute little laugh, but rather a hard laugh that would leave your stomach sore afterwards. Drawing the attention to the store for just a moment, they all went back to their daily routines as though nothing was going on.

“Gods, you are adorable.” She says as she wipes her eyes from the tears that were forming. “I don’t think I remember the last time I laughed like that. Thanks for that, but you seriously need to know how to talk to women. Most might not find your word blabber adorable like me.” She warns.

Sighing he hung his head down low. “I know. I’m sorry.” He mutters. “Na, don’t be it’s a little cute. So what brings you all the way out here?” She asked ass she had a soft smile on her face.

“Well honestly I came out here to enjoy the new environment, but it seems like nothing is really inspiring me yet.” He says as she nods her head. “I see, well maybe that’s because you don’t know exactly where to go. They say this time of year is usually when inspiration hits them the most. So how about this. As thanks for making me laugh like that, how about I show you around town to show you a few stops that might help you?” She asked as his eyes widened.

:Wait what? You’d actually do that? Why?” He asked as he couldn’t believe what was happening. “Well because you are new in town and I don’t want to be hunting for you when you get lost in teh woods around here, and it’s a thank you for making me laugh. Don’t make me take back my offer now.” She smirks.

“No! You don’t have to do that. I really appreciate it!” He says as he quickly jumps on her offer. Hearing him agree to it, she grins at him. “Great! well, how about you come back here in the morning and I’ll show you around? Sound good?” She asked as she sat up.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He says as he returns the smile. “I’m melech by the way, It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He says as he offers him her hand, and was expecting her name as well,

Shaking it she nods her head, “A pleasure to meet you again.” She replies as the barista calls out the red haired woman's name. “Mika! Your order is ready.” They yelled as she turned around. “Well there goes that mystery.” She chuckles. “Well, you best be here in the morning Melech, because if you don’t show up, I’’m not going to offer it to you again.” She warns as she grabs her order and leaves, leaving Melech alone to comprehend just what exactly had happened.

#Don;t know if I'll continue this or not #human melech #I don't even know what to name it #Melech #Mika #mystery/romance #????#Maybe?

0 notes

blytheandherbrain · 7 years

Text

The Old Photo (BarryKramerxReader)

Notes: Keep in mind that this is the first ever one-shot I wrote, transferred over to Tumblr from my Wattpad page. It is most definitely not perfect, but it brings back memories. This was originally a 3 part imagine, but I’ve made it all one, separated by breaks. the little ~these things~ are only here because I used to write with them, so treat them however you wish. Y/N- your name Y/L/N- your last name Y/N/N- your nickname Y/S/N- your sibling’s name Y/C/N- your channel name I/D/H- insert degree here

Request: None/From My Own Brain

Summary: You’ve been in love with a boy since you were 6 years old, however, that is also when you left him, moving to Minnesota. Now that you are officially an adult and fresh out of college, you burn some time and get a job, conveniently working alongside him.

Word Count: 3,000+

Masterlist

Your P.O.V. (Second P.O.V.)

~Remember back to when you were 6 years old. That's where this will start~

You laughed as the little boy you had been playing with, landed a perfect flip off of the best swing in this park. "Yayyy! Good job Bear! Teach me please?" You questioned staring into his blue-green eyes.

"I dunno, I might have to go soon..."

"But Barryyyyyy,"

"Fine. But only for a little bit," he responds while giggling at your sudden transition from a pouty face, to an extremely excited one.

You, being the quick learner that you are, had soon perfected the little trick and called your mother over so you could both show-off. "Mommy! Come look at what my new friend taught me!"

"Hmm?" Your mother looked up from her book to watch you guys. You both successfully landed as she clapped and laughed at your scared face when you had almost lost your balance.

You turned towards Barry as your mother informed you that you'd have to go home soon. "Thanks Bear!" You were grinning from ear-to-ear as you continued, "I had so much fun today and meeting you! I couldn't ask for a better friend!"

"No problem, Y/N! You'll come back tomorrow, right?"

"Yep!" You exclaimed, popping the "p."

"Okie! Bye Y/N and Ms. Y/L/N!"

"Bye-bye!" You and your mother both responded.

You had kept going to that park, every day, just to spend more time with your newest friend. In fact, the end of summer was drawing nearer, and your family was planning on moving, tomorrow, on account of your father being promoted. You didn't know exactly where you were moving to, as you tried to tune out their voices everytime your parents talked about moving. You hated the thought of leaving. Leaving your hometown, friends, close family, and hiding spots was too much for you. But, you couldn't really do much about it, seeing as you were 6. So, instead, you went around and got pictures of your favorite spots and people, while your sister/brother tagged along, to make sure you wouldn't get kidnapped, this is L.A. for Pete's sake.

At last, you ended up at your favorite park. You immediately smiled as you saw Barry waiting for you on the swings. "BEAR-BEAR!" You screeched, as your brother/sister sighed and you took off towards the swing set.

"Y/N/N!" He yelled back, jumping off the swing and bracing himself for your daily tackle-jump on him.

Your sister/brother chuckled, turning their camera on and taking a couple pictures and you and Barry fell on the grass.

You both sat up and immediately fell back over laughing. You eventually stood up and posed as your sibling took pictures of you both. After all the fuss was over you and Barry sat on the swings one last time before you would leave. "I'm going to miss you so much, Y/N," Barry said, slightly tearing up. "I don't want you to leave..."

"I don't want to either," you were tearing up as well, but tried not to show it. "Just, pinky promise you won't forget me?"

"Pinky promise."

You hugged each other for a bit, then, wiping your eyes, stood up. "Y/N! Time to go! You still have to finish packing up your books!"

"Coming Y/S/N!" You yelled. "Bye-bye forever Bear..."

"Bye-bye Y/N/N..." He whispered, holding back tears, as you walked away. Away from your favorite person, knowing you'd never forget how much this boy meant to you.

That night, you had finished packing and ended up crying yourself to sleep. Your father had come in to wake you up at 3:40 a.m. They had finished packing everything, except everyone's sleeping bags and suitcases of essentials and clothing, into the moving van. You rolled up your sleeping bag, tossed it into the back of your families mini-van, grabbed your suitcase, and jumped in the truck, falling back asleep as you left your old life behind.

~Fast-forward to when you are 18, moving out of your small home in Minnesota, and moving back out to California, L.A. specifically, to start college~

You sat in your living room, surrounded by clothing, books, supplies, and photo albums. Sighing, you looked up at you mother. She laughed, "how about I pack this stuff in the suitcases, and you pick which photos you want."

"Really? Oh my gosh, thank you so much!" You exclaimed falling backward onto your pile of photo books. "Ouch!"

Your mother laughed even harder and you shot her a death glare. Picking up an album without removing your glare, you looked puzzled at it. "Mom, were all these from when we were in Cali?" You questioned, flipping through the pages.

"Oh, I almost forgot about that album! You can have it, it's mostly you anyway."

You looked back down, then stood up. "I'll be back in an hour, okay?"

"Alright, just don't forget bug spray, it's in the bathroom!" She shouted as you walked towards the bathroom.

That was just like your mother to read your mind and know where you were going. Then again, it's the only place where no one bugs you (minus the actual bugs).

After applying bug spray, and grabbing some sweats, you began the trek, up the hill, to your treehouse. You dad had helped you build it when your family first moved to Minnesota. You immediately claimed it as yours, and that's the way it has stayed for 12 years.

Climbing up the worn ladder, you stopped at the top and turned around. This gave you the perfect view of the just-beginning sunset. ‘Perfect!’ You thought as you finished your ascent into the small room. Sitting at your small desk, and giving yourself another breathtaking view of the setting sun, you switched on your small battery-powered lamp and opened the book.

As you slowly turned the pages, one-by-one, memories flooded to the front of your mind. Tears started flowing as you saw pictures of your siblings, parents, friends, family, and events. Wiping your eyes, you flipped to the last page and saw one single picture. It was you and a small boy... what was his name? He seemed so familiar, yet, you couldn't remember his name.

By now the sun had completely sunk. You shut the book, turned off the light, and left your treehouse, back towards your house.

When you walked in, the scent of your favorite dinner filled your nose. Smiling, you walked back to the living room and placed the album in one of your suitcases.

~Timeskip to after you graduate college because I haven't even been through it and I don't know what to write xD~

"Thanks for watching everyone, next time on (Y/C/N)" You waved goodbye to everyone and ended the video. "WOOP TIME TO EDIT!" You screamed, knowing no one would hear you.

You had started this whole YouTube thing, as just a hobby back in your second year of college. It gave you something to keep you busy, considering you breezed through assignments and classes, and you were creative enough to keep the channel going and growing. You were currently at 2.6 million subscribers, gaining about 450,000 more a week. After you had graduated college with a bachelor's degree in I/D/H. You had decided to just stay in L.A. to continue your channel and see where life takes you. But now, being a full-time YouTuber, only uploading twice a week, you had a lot of free time. As much as you loved spending that time playing video games, you needed something more challenging, more..... exciting.

So, the next day, you were flipping through the area's newspaper. Maybe there would be an ad for you to earn a little extra money?

Suprise, surprise, there was! "Experienced editor needed for video making. $---- per week, call Suzy at, xxx-xxx-xxxx for details," you read to yourself. "Hmm, why not? I could do that!"

You immediately grabbed your cell and dialed the number. She picked up almost instantly and you talked for about 10 minutes, then, set up a Skype interview. Suzy sounded so excited to hear from someone, like, this position was needed A.S.A.P. or something. She also said that you sounded like the type of person they were looking for, so that made you extra happy!

~Timeskip to a week later, an hour before the interview~

You looked at the clock. 4:30. The interview was in an hour and you were so excited, that you had started getting ready 2 hours ago. Being extra careful with your outfit choice and make-up. You were wearing black jeans and converse, as well as a Legend of Zelda sweatshirt and your lucky watch. You had only done your eye make-up, considering you felt your lips looked fine the way they were. You quickly put your H/C hair into a messy bun and turned on your favorite show.

Soon, it was 5:25. You jumped up and grabbed your laptop, pulling up Skype, and making sure you looked alright. At exactly 5:30 sharp, the ringing starts. Putting on a smile, you answered.

~Timeskip again because I've never had a Skype interview~

"Well, thank you so much for letting me have this interview!" You say, glancing at the time, 6:15, and noticing she was wrapping up.

"No problem! You are so much fun to be around," she laughed. "Honestly, in my opinion, which is the most important right now, you should get the job. Your personality is perfect, you like the same topics we do, we are able to hold a convo together, AND I feel like we will be friends soon!"

You blushed as she complimented and chuckled at the rest. "So I got the job?" She nodded, "Thank you so much, Suzy! I can't wait until I meet you all in person!"

You were ecstatic, and, by the looks of it, so was Suzy. "So you accept! Hooray! I'll send you the Grump Space address and you can start on Monday!"

"Thanks! Bye now!"

"Bye!"

The call ended and you jumped up and down on the couch until you were too tired to continue. Monday was 3 days from now. That'll give you plenty of time to watch some of their videos to get the gist of what you were in for.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP* *BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP* *BEEP BEEP BEE--*

"Urrng," you grumbled, smacking the snooze button on your alarm.

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to wake up. After about 3 minutes, you rolled over to grab your phone. Turning the cell on, you realized what day it was, and practically jumped out of bed. You rushed to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. You began to sing some songs that popped into your head. Luckily, no one else lived with you.

After practically screaming 3 songs, you got out of the shower and started getting dressed into your favorite red sweater, as well as some high-waisted jeans and matching sneakers. You quickly checked your already-done nails for chips. Surprisingly, they still looked flawless. You still had an hour before you had to leave, so you spent a good 20 minutes perfecting your hairdo.

After you were satisfied with your hair, you sat down to do your make-up. You put on a shade of red lipstick that matched your outfit and started working on your eyebrows. When they looked fabulous, you started working on your eyes.

By the time you were done with everything, you still had 10 minutes left. You quickly spritzed some perfume on yourself and grabbed your bag. Sighing, you spoke to yourself, "Might as well get going. Better early than late!"

You grabbed your phone and lucky earbuds and walked outside into the crisp, cool morning. You smiled and went to start your car. The box full of essential items was already in the backseat, a result of being nervous and prepared last night. In the box were items such as perfume, your travel make-up bag, Pokémon figurines, your favorite book series, several potted plants, various office supplies, and a picture frame holding the old picture of you and a small boy.

~Time hops into the future are easy escapes for authors~

You pulled up to the Grump Space, as Suzy had called it, and shot a text to Suzy telling her you had arrived. You got out of your car, grabbed the box, and started towards the door. As soon as you arrived at the door, it opened, revealing the gorgeous creature that was Suzy. "Y/N! Welcome! I was worried you wouldn't show up!" She giggled, holding the door. "Come in, come in! I'll show you your desk."

Giggling at her statement, you walked inside and realized that you were the only ones here. "Uhm, Suzy? Where is everyone? Did I show up too early?"

"No no no, the guys are always late. Well, except for Arin, I make him come with me."

At the sound of his name, Arin walked out from the kitchen, carrying toast. "Oh hey Y/N! Welcome to the Grump Space! Did you eat breakfast yet?" He offered a piece of toast towards you, which you gladly accepted. He walked over to, what you assumed was, his desk. While taking a bite of your toast, Suzy lead you over to an empty desk. Your desk.

She opened your box and helped you set up your little workspace. Before she could see the picture, you quickly put it face down on your chair. When you were both satisfied with the way the desk looked, she noticed the photo frame on your chair. "Oops, I guess we missed something!"

You gasped and reached out for the picture, but you were too late. She picked it up and stared at it for a while. "Y/N, this is so adorable! Is that you? Who is this little boy? I swear I've seen him before..."

"Do you know who he is?" You asked without thinking. Realizing what you said, you immediately looked down, blushing. "I-I mean, yeah... It's an old friend and me when we were younger, living here in L.A."

"You don't remember his name?" She asked, obviously puzzled.

"No, for the life of me I can't. I remember that we met the summer before I moved to Minnesota, but that was all the way back when I was 6. I've had that photo for years now, and I still can't remember his name."

"Awe I'm sorry Y/N. I can help you try to remember, though, now that you work with me!" She looked cheery again, which made you light up again as well.

"Oh thank you, Suzy! That would be great!" She set the frame on your desk as you continued, "I'd love to meet everyone else first, though. I've been binge watching videos to get myself pumped and ready to edit, for the past few days."

"Really? So I hired a fan," she chuckled.

"A slight one," you grinned.

"Well, I guess it's less work for Barry, then."

"Yup, I even watched his tutorial on GrumpOut, so I know pretty much all I need to, already!"

"That's perfect Y/N!" She squealed and hugged you.

Just then, a tall, fluffy haired man walked in, singing. Behind him, walked in a shorter, bearded man. "Dan! Barry!" You shouted.

Dan stopped singing, and they both turned to look at you. Locking eyes with Barry, he smiled and you slightly blushed. He seemed familiar. And not because you knew him from the videos.

"You must be Y/N, the new editor!" Barry said, still holding eye contact.

"Wait, I didn't know we were getting a new grump?" Danny turned towards Suzy, quite confused.

"Dan, I told you guys all last Friday. That was the day I interviewed her, remember? I even showed you guys some of her videos!"

Quickly facing Suzy, you asked, "you showed them my videos? Is that how you knew I was, quote, perfect for the job?"

"Yup! Your videos were Barry-approved," she laughed.

You turned back to face Barry and he winked at you. "Well, welcome to the team!" They all started clapping, as Arin walked in cheering.

Then, a groggy, blue-eyed man walked in. Looking up, everyone stopped. "Did I miss something?" He questioned as everyone started laughing.

~Another timeskip to when peeps are recording and Barry is giving you a quick run-down at his desk~

"Annnnnd, that's about it! Seeing as you already knew most of that, we have some break time."

"Really? Oh, 'cause they're recording and what-not." You headed over to your desk to grab your phone.

Your desk was just off to the right of Barry's, just in case you would need any help. He turned towards your desk as you spoke up again. "Coffee run?" You suggested.

He nodded, but his eyes were locked on your desk. Following his gaze, you noticed he was looking at the photo frame. You turned your head back towards him, to find him now staring at you. "Is that you? Like, in the picture?"

You smiled, "yeah, it's me and an old friend, here in L.A., from before I moved when I was six. Before you ask, no I don't remember his name, and yes, I'm trying to find him because he was kinda my first love..."

"Y/N..." He turned back to his desk, quickly opening drawers, looking for something.

"Yes Barry?" You were a little confused while you waited until he found what he needed.

Smiling, he pulled out a small, photo from the top drawer. Before you could see it, he spoke again. "So, you're looking for your first love, too?"

You nodded, and he continued. "I met my first love back when I was six, she moved away, though, and I wasn't sure where. The day before she had to leave, we spent almost the entire day together, and her brother/sister took a picture of us. A week later, I got the picture in the mail, and I've been looking for her ever since," he noticed how confused you were and showed you an exact copy of your picture.

You gasped and jumped up. You both hadn't noticed, but as Barry was telling the story, everyone else had started listening from various spots in the room. Barry stood up and you ran to hug him. He seemed surprised at first, but quickly relaxed and spun you around. "Barry I've been looking for you for years!" You squealed.

"Y/N I can't believe I finally found you!" He responded, equally as excited.

You both stayed hugging each other until Suzy tapped your shoulder. You quickly parted and noticed everyone else in the room. Barry blushed as Suzy spoke. "Well well Y/N, I guess you really did need my help to find him," she laughed.

"Thank you Suzy, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Looking around the room, Arin and Dan smiled and winked at you, then walked back to the recording room. Ross yawned and said "congrats" before turning towards his desk, and Suzy turned to walk upstairs. "So, how about that coffee run, love?" Barry looked at you, still blushing.

You smiled, equally as red, and grabbed his hand. "I'd love to, Bear," you winked at him.

You both left the building to get ready for the first day of your finally satisfied life.

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