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jamaisjoons · 4 years

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the summer bucketlist | m.list

When the weather sees the return of sunshine and warmth, the joy and exuberance of summer is revived, and everyone rushes to enjoy the season to the fullest. Bonfire nights with your friends, seeing brilliant firework displays or laying under the stars on a humid night and watching the world go by. Learning to surf, or dive or snorkel or simply collecting seashells along the shore. Late nights at the amusement parks, thrilling roller-coaster rides or spectacular views on the Ferris Wheel. Skinny dipping in a lake after dark, attending a film or music festival, or even just visiting the popup street market in your city. Everything you had been dreaming off since the start of autumn, you can do once again. And who better to do it with, than the boys who bring more joy and warmth to our lives than summer itself?

Welcome to ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ - a writing event/author collab hosted by @jamaisjoons

The Summer Bucketlist: BTS Edition - is an event in which various different authors can sign up to write a story based on traditional Bucketlist Items. Find their stories below!

⟶ song of the sea; knj ⇥ @jamaisjoons ➳ fantasy au. little mermaid au. ↳ ⎡Take a Trip to the Museum⎦

« Captivated by the sight of you, he can’t help but watch you swim around his home. And when you turn to leave, he doesn’t know what overcomes him - but as if spellbound - he finds himself following you back to land. »

⟶ molotov cocktail; jhs ⇥ @yeoldontknow ➳ bartender au. arranged marriage au. ↳ ⎡Take a Cocktail Class⎦

« You met him January, on a night when you were newly single and newly wanting to break free from your father’s unyielding control. You left him in January, full of regret but full of purpose. You meet him again in July, and now you want nothing more than to run to the ends of the earth with him, to burn down the shape your life has taken in the hope of making something new. »

⟶ luminous; pjm ⇥ @luffles424 ➳ summer festival au. tentacle monster au. ↳ ⎡Watch Fireworks⎦

« The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here. »

⟶ sticky situation; kth ⇥ @jiminsfault ➳ camping au. established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Go Camping⎦

« You hate camping, but Taehyung is determined on changing your mind on that. »

⟶ pull me in; jhs ⇥ @guccybangtan ➳ established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Go to a Water Park⎦

« In the heat of the summer, there's nothing more relaxing than relaxing than a nice trip to the water park. »

⟶ a beautiful epiphany; jjk ⇥ @onherwings ➳ friends to lovers au. ↳ ⎡Join an Art Contest⎦

« Who would have thought that falling in love with your muse could either lead to something beautiful or bring you to your own demise? »

⟶ love grows where you go; myg ⇥ @rookiegukie ➳ arranged marriage au. pining au. ↳ ⎡Watch the Sunset on the Beach⎦

« Determined to make you and Yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. You know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you're positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don't find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. That is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned. »

⟶ petrichor; pjm ⇥ @taetaewonderland ➳ strangers to lovers au. domestic au. ↳ ⎡Go on a Picnic⎦

« There are smells in the world that can trigger your brain to think of a memory almost in an instant. »

⟶ sun cockblock; myg ⇥ @cremeandsuga ➳ best friends to lovers au. summer au. ↳ ⎡Join a Sandcastle Building Competition⎦

« Cancún was always a trip to remember - sun, beaches, hookups and day drinking, not to mention the annual sand castle competition you entered with your best friend every year. Yoongi smells like Copper Tone sunblock and heaven. Entering a sandcastle competition with one of the least competitive people in the world was pure agony — but it didn’t dawn to you that your best friend wasn’t competitive because he was confident he would win. Upon your loss, he sees you trying to soothe the burn of it (and the sun) with the beach bartender. He may smell like Copper Tone sunblock and heaven, but he’s sure you feel like heaven. »

⟶ rejuvenation; myg & jhs ⇥ @caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma ➳ spa owners au. ↳ ⎡Treat Yourself to a Spa Day⎦

« You finally get a break from work and you decide to indulge in a little pampering and self-care. During lunch, your friend slips a card into your hand for an exclusive spa with a special referral discount. How can you resist? Let’s hope the Bangtan Blossoms Spa provides the relaxation & rejuvenation experience you desperately seek. »

⟶ just a taste; kth ⇥ @xjoonchildx ➳ pwp au. ↳ ⎡Go Wine Tasting⎦

« He’s hot. he’s considerate. He’s refusing to make a move. weeks of sexual frustration come to a head at a wine tasting and -- this is going to shock NO ONE -- smut ensues. »

⟶ lollipop; myg ⇥ @ironicarmy ➳ neighbours to lovers au. ↳ ⎡Attempt to make Ice Cream⎦

« It’s a hot summer day, he’s desperate, and your ice lollies taste like heaven. »

⟶ carnival lights; kth ⇥ @taephilia ➳ haunted carnival au. horror au. ↳ ⎡Visit a Carnival⎦

« With half of your friend group graduated and leaving your hometown to move to the city for work, you and your friends decide to have one last adventure together (in the words of hobi even though it’s only may and you see each other like every day). But things are always different in the nighttime and you never know what’s lurking between the funnel cakes. »

⟶ midnight menagerie; knj ⇥ @jooneggs ➳ friends to lovers au. ↳ ⎡Go to a Botanical Garden⎦

« Like water, cradling your fragile soul, Namjoon has held the lily of your heart all your life and you wish you could let him know just how much that means to you. Coincidentally, it just so happens you can: in a week's time when you're stuck in the holiday of your life at Namjoon's father's Botanical gardens. Will you finally get to repay him in a bed of roses or will he be the one to make the bouquet for you? »

⟶ ferris drink; jhs ⇥ @salvejoon ➳ pwp au. established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Ride a Ferris Wheel⎦

« Your boyfriend has a bucket list of places he wants to do the nasty and next up is a Ferris Wheel. »

⟶ hose wars; ksj & myg ⇥ @babybinnyboy ➳ neighbour au. ↳ ⎡Have a Water Fight⎦

« Spending a summer in a little coastal town was supposed to be relaxing. It wasn't supposed to include a broken AC unit, record break heatwave, a hose, 2 ridiculously confident, attractive neighbors with an annoyingly low fence. »

⟶ cut shot; myg ⇥ @kimtaehyunq ➳ vacation au. established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Learn to Volleyball⎦

« He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. »

⟶ eternal summer; pjm ⇥ @aiimaginesbts ➳ childhood friends to lovers au. vacation au. ↳ ⎡Go Sightseeing on Vacation⎦

« Breaking up with my boyfriend leaves an empty spot on the overseas vacation that I had been looking forward to for a long time. I’m torn between abandoning the trip or going it solo when someone offers to tag along. However, having Jimin, my best friend go with me may not be the best idea — since my crush on him has never gone away. »

⟶ sway with me; knj & jhs ⇥ @minjoonalist ➳ established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Take a Boat Ride⎦

« You love celebrating your anniversary, it was the only special part about summer that you looked forward to every year- But when your husband Is unable to make the availability due to his job- You thought why not make the best of it? »

⟶ ecstatic shock; jhs ⇥ @iluvstrawberry ➳ strangers to lovers au. abo au. ↳ ⎡Host a BBQ⎦

« The garden party your parents throw every year is coming up. Seeing your conservative parents, is something you definitely don’t want to face on your own. But with all your friends being busy, you’ve decided to accept your fate and drown your sorrows at your favourite bar. Enter: Jung Hoseok, bartender, lifesaver and the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever seen. »

⟶ kaleidoscopic; knj ⇥ @boywivlove ➳ established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Go Paintballing⎦

« You and Namjoon decide to blow off some steam and go to a paint balling range, one multicoloured blitzkrieg later; bruised, sweaty and victorious you celebrate your win. »

⟶ undercurrent; jjk ⇥ @jjungkooksthighs ➳ best friends to lovers au. post college au. ↳ ⎡Go Diving⎦

« After a year and six months of sea fare and many more nights of sunken eyes that had been dotted with the black shadings of sleeplessness that you’d helped to nurse him because of, the fruits of your best friend’s efforts had earned him the completion of his mission to map the entire eastern seaboard. In all his work, though, Jungkook has not gotten the chance to dive at many of the areas scattered around the ocean in the vastness of the seas. You decide to take him to a previously unmarked, unmapped sector of the sea after following his own nautical charts. The catch is this: you’re afraid of the water. What happens when you find yourself following after him and into the arms of the sea after years of pent up sexual frustration that you blame entirely on him? »

a/n: this is incredibly late but onefgeoingoeitng i hope you enjoy reading all of these works! If you participated in the collab but your fic isn’t on here, it’s because it hasn’t appeared in the tags! please feel free to DM with the link to the fic!!

#jamaisjoons summer collab #tsb 2020 collab #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut

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iwaisuke · 3 years

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confessions; but not remembering it

ft. kita shinsuke, sakusa kiyoomi x sick fem!reader

genre: fluff

masterlist

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and then i rushed bc i was getting tired 🙃 also. sakusa's is a little ooc. sorry ab that

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

» the clean yet musty smell of rain filled the gym as the boys practiced. it was a surprisingly humid and rainy spring day today here in the country side of hyogo

» "achoo" you had been sneezing and coughing all day. you also had a terrible headache but took some medicine to see if it would help. the spring allergies really getting to you

» you didnt reay have the time to be worrying about yourself. As a 2nd year manager of the inarizaki team, (recommend by suna) and the boys working so hard practicing for nationals there was no way you'd let this little cold get in the way. you had to work just as hard as everyone else!

» "hold on, im about to hang up your jerseys to dry"

» "i got you guys some fresh towels!"

» "i can run and grab that coach. im headed that way anyways"

» the coach called for a short break to rest up for a bit. everyone was sore and exhausted from practicing every day. "here. i filled your water bottles up!" handing them to all the boys. "y/n you're all wet" akagi sounded concerned.

» "hm? oh its alright. I'll dry off in a minute. i took the shortcut to the drinking fountain to refill your waterbottles instead of taking the long way" you nonchalantly said. "so you ran through the rain like an idiot?" suna threw a clean towel over your damp hair and ruffled it. "suna!! stop!! you're gonna ruin my hair"

» "like i said. its alright" you reassured the boys.

» kita, on the other hand had noticed your fatigue. although he wasnt as perceptive on peoples feeling and thoughts as well as others, he could easily pick up signs like yours. he admired you dearly for how hard you always work for the team. how you willingly did anything to make them smile. how you always put others first before yours. needless to say, he had a bit of a crush on you.

» "l/n san. i think you should take a break too. there's no need for you to be running around for us while we're resting" kita assured you. "i still have a few things left on my list to do.. but afterwards I'll take a break!" kita let out a sigh. you were stubborn sometimes and kita knew you were the kind of person to not stop until you're finished.

» "I'll be right back. i gotta grab the laundry"

» making an excuse to leave, your heart was beating fast. you knew kita's words were the kind he'd say to anyone, but it made your heart feel fuzzy when he'd look out for you.

» the stone cold captain who you thought he was, actually was so kind. he was just a little awkward like you, and a little blunt with what he said sometimes. but you learned the great qualities he carries and how much he actually cares about others well being. he was a hard worker and you couldnt help but absentmindedly fall for the captain.

» running up the stairs to the second floor of the gym, you felt a shift in your step. head becoming dizzier than it was just 5 minutes ago. legs trembling, you started falling before feeling a presence behind.

» kita's arm wrapped around your waist, supporting you in efforts to not letting you fall over. "i told you to rest l/n san" kita said sternly. "you wont benefit anyone if you keep overworking like this."

» you knew kita was right, but you really didnt want to rest knowing you'll be letting the team down by not working hard.

» "i promise I'll rest as soon as im done with this one thing" pleading with kita. he let out a sigh, knowing you really wouldnt until you did finish so he allowed you to do so.

» finishing grabbing all of the dry jerseys and bringing them downstairs to pass out to everyone, you didnt really notice atsumu and osamu spiking volleyballs at each other until aran yelled

» "y/n! watch out!" honestly, you were too tired to move out of the way so you figured, it do be like that sometimes, and allowed the ball to hit you.

» or... so you had planned the ball to hit you.

» kita stood in front, blocking the impact of the spike that you had prepared yourself for. there was agitation in kita's eyes. more than you usually noticed when then twins were miss behaving. concern washing over, he looked you straight in the eyes

» "... is there something wrong kita san?" lifting up his hand to your forehead, he let out a sigh. "why didnt you tell me earlier you had a fever", then walking over to the coach meanwhile atsumu and osamu come over to apologise for being reckless.

» "get your stuff. we're going home" kita said bluntly.

» "huh? but practice is-"

» "please l/n san. for me"

» kita would only take yes for an answer this time. no if's ands or buts. so here you were, walking home with kita. only the sound of raindrops hitting your shared umbrella being heard.

» muscles starting to ache a little more and your legs becoming more tired than they were when you left the gym, you began to walk a little slower every step

» "get on my back l/n" "its ok kita san, i can walk. its already enough that you're walking me home" "i didnt ask if you wanted to. im telling you to"

» you couldnt tell if it was the fever that made your face warmer or if it was kita's words. nonetheless, you got on kita's back. he was a lot stronger than he looked and you couldnt help but stifen at being so close to your own crush like this.

» "relax. I'll make sure you get home." he reassured. you leaned into his back, warmth seeping in, your eyes began to feel heavy.

» "kita san" "yes?" "thank you for always watching out for me"

» a comfortable silence was met as the sound of rain filled your ears.

» "kita san" "hm?" "did you know..." your voice softened "i like you a lot kita san"

» did he hear you correctly? if he wasnt paying attention he wouldve missed what you had said, being drowed out through the pitter patter of water. now his heart thumping louder than ever before.

» "l/n san-" he was about to go on but was met with the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores of you on his back, knocked out from exertion. kita let out a light chuckle, finally relieved you were resting.

» you had missed the next day of school, but when you came back the whole volleyball team bombarded you with love.

» "WE'RE A FAILURE TO NOT NOTICE YOU FEELING SICK" atsumu cried. "how could we let our one and only precious manager get ill for taking care of us" akagi, clearly dissapointed in himself. "please let us know when we can take care of you too y/n" aran said.

» "its no big deal. really!" waving your hands in defense. "it was just a small cold. but i do have a question though"

» all the boys gathered around to hear what you had to say

» "how did i get home?? i really dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu"

» it shocked the guys honestly. you genuinely didnt remember a single thing due to your fever. "wait? you don't remember kita taking you home?" suna replied, your face becoming red. "k-kita san took me home-?" "yah. he left in the middle of practice to do so" osamu added.

» immediately, you got up to find the captain that apparently took you home the other day. he was in the storage closet cleaning and grabbing the equipment for todays practice.

» "kita san" "oh. l/n. glad you're feeling better" his smile brightened the musty closet. "about that, im sorry for troubling you and having you take me home the other day. i honestly dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu. my mind was really fuzzy that day, but im truly thankful for you going out of your way for me. it really means a lot"

» kita was dumbfounded. you really dont remember? "no need to apologize l/n. it was my responsibility as a captain. and afterall, what good would i be if i couldnt even take care of the person who means the most to me"

» your heart raced. 'person who means the most to me' ? cheeks blushing a rosy pink, you were internally thanking the musty store room from being dim.

» with arms full of equipment, kita walked by you and stopped.

» "by the way l/n san. did you know?"

» ears perking up at the vague yet familiar line

» "i like you a lot too l/n san"

» now we all know sakusa HATES germs and for the past week and a half, he's been telling you to keep up with washing your hands, wearing a mask at all times even when you eat omi it doesnt work like that. pls especially since you are prone to getting sick easily no matter how hygenic you are. your immune system just hated you. PERIODT

» you remembered sakusa scolding you for running out of hand sanitizer and then the next day you were out of commission. bed ridden with laryngitis, cough, slight fever, the whole works. it was like your body was making fun of you or something

» you texted komori, asking him to take notes in class for you and relay homework information while you were at home resting up. but there was one request you had and made komori PROMISE.

» DO NOT TELL SAKUSA YOU GOT SICK

» "he's probably gonna notice your absence y/n. he'll find out about it either way"

» "well if you dont tell him then he wont know. its not like he even cares about where i am like that"

» "thats what you might think. but i know he's gonna say something i can garuntee it"

» the next day at school, sakusa did notice your presence missing. it was quieter not having a 3rd person in the group of friends. not having you around to talk to him when komori was gone.

» pulling out his phone to text you, he asked where you were that day.

» "on a family trip :D !!! forgot to tell you, but I'll tell you all about it when i come back!" you wrote, attaching an old selfie of a different trip you went on to make it more believable.

» you had hoped this silly cold would get better in a day, but soon that day turned into 2 and then 3 and then 4... you pretty much missed the whole week of school at that point

» Friday rolled around and komori was on his phone all day. sakusa noticed his cousin fidget in his chair more than usual and it irked him to see him like that

» "what's with you today?" one eye raised, sakusa finally asked. "uhhh nothing really" komori wasnt very good at keeping secrets lets just start off with that, but he was trying his best.

» "well clearly somethings wrong. you're fidgeting." "well haven't you noticed somethings been different all week?" komori hinted

» sakusa sat there in thought. nothing's been different? he ate the same breakfast he usually does every morning. all his studies have been well. there were no tests this week so there was no reason to be anxious like komori was and even if there was, he would've done well anyways.

» "just tell me what it is." sakusa was starting to get annoyed. "y/n..." komori started. "y/n?" "do you know where she's been this week?"

» did you not tell komori about your family trip? you usually told komori everything, but then again you didn't tell him either until he asked you about it.

» "she said shes on a trip?" he nonchalantly said. komori's eyes started watering. "A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL THATS WHAT IT IS" he blurted out. komori didnt mean to let it slip , he was just so worried about your well being.

» "hospital?? what are you talking about. did she get injured on her trip?" "no omi. shes been sick all week and her mom just texted me saying she went to the hospital today because shes had a fever for 3 days straight. there is no family trip"

» sakusa's heart shattered. you were sick and didnt even tell him?

» before both he and komori knew it, his legs were running faster to get to the hospital than he had ever imagined he could ever run.

» and there you were. fast asleep in a bed with an IV drip. your face flushed, forehead sweaty and shallow breaths escaping your chapped lips. you were a hot mess but sakusa didnt care. stepping to your bedside to greet your mother she explained to him that she had to go to work and asked if he could watch over you until she gets back.

» sakusa said yes without even hearing the whole thing. his heart and mind saying yes to whatever it took to get you to feel better.

» gosh how he hated hospitals, but what he hated even more was the fact that you were in the hospital and he didnt even know.

» the doctor came in for their evening round and ensured sakusa that you were indeed getting better! your fever had broken not too long ago and your body was working extra hard to heal itself up!

» "is there anything i can do to help?" sakusa asked. he felt helpless in this situation just watching your face distort in uncomfort every now and then, and coughing your lungs out.

» patting sakusa's shoulder, the doctor told him that just being here for you is enough. "you gotta be a strong boyfriend for her alright son? she'll be able to go home tomorrow first thing in the morning if her fever doesnt come back"

» sakusa slumped in his chair at your bedside, the doctors words ringing through his head. 'boyfriend huh?' he thought to himself. "if i was her boyfriend..." he whispered to himself, "i would be a failure for not even knowing my girl was sick..."

» to kiyoomi, you were beautiful. even now in this sad state you were in. deep down he locked these growing feelings he had for you inside of him because he always felt like you were a better match with someone else and after this stunt you pulled of lying to him about going on a family trip, it only made him feel worse.

» it was now night time and you finally began to stir in your sleep, the fever finally gone. sakusa reached out to move some hair that was stuck to your face, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. your eyes slowly opened and met with his dark orbs.

» "y/n?" "saku- wait this is just a dream. omi wouldn't be here. he hates hospitals" you let out a forced laugh and then a sigh through your sore throat.

» you reached out to sakusa's hands that were resting on the side of your bed. "omi would never let me hold his hand because he'd say im passing germs to him so hopefully dream omi wont be the same" you were aimlessly talking to yourself, not even realizing that this really wasnt a dream.

» he squeezed your hand in return. hoping that you wouldnt let go any time soon. a funny smile appeared on your face just at the thought of him. "even if you're stupid for not realizing how much i like you... i cant wait to see you again omi" you whispered before falling asleep again.

» sakusa didnt know what to do. he sat there frozen in his chair. it was his first time hearing you call him omi. heck. you literally just confessed to the boy. his brain was running wild. groaning in distress he let go of your hand to step out for a breath of fresh air now that you were back asleep.

» it was 5am and your mother came back to the hospital and thanked sakusa for staying by your side. He left in a hurry to make sure you didnt see him there.

» Monday rolled around and sakusa was waiting outside of the school gates for you. he had planned on asking you about your "trip"

» "good morning sakusa!!" your bright and cheery voice rang through his ears. honestly he was trembling inside. the memory of you confessing to him still fresh in his mind.

» "how was your trip?" you stopped dead in your tracks. "haha... it was good !! sorry i forgot to get you a souvenir" you were trying to play it cool but sakusa could tell you were forcing yourself. "i wouldnt want a souvenir from where you came from so its fine" sakusa's words threw you off. "i - im not sure im understanding what you're saying sakusa?"

» you felt a tug on your hand. "dont you mean omi?" his voice husky as he whispered into your ear. cheeks flushed, your brain felt like it short circuted. you've always tried your hardest to not let it slip that you want to call him omi since he hated when people called him that.

» sakusa smirked at your cute reaction he got out of you. letting go of your hand he began to walk into the school leaving you at the gate dumbfounded. "and by the way. you're just as stupid for not realizing how long ive liked you too"

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

thank you for your order! enjoy~!

#haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #yinny!drabbles #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa fluff #kita shinsuke #kita x reader #kita fluff

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smallblip · 3 years

Note

Okay, but (sorry for my english) I just really love modern hc where they perform as the band No Name during their school festival (their identities are already known and that people know they belong to one of the most famous group in the school /with nanaba and erwin/).

Levi’s the face of the group and almost half of the fans have him as their bias but they really thinks he’s asexual or bi or even gay since they never knew anyone who had been his girlfriend and he doesn’t seem to be that person to be involved in any romance.

But then he surprises everyone when during their performance, he just grabs hange’s ponytail and kissed her deeply.

And people were just like—oh, shit, wait, what.... levi just—kissed his friend....his....friend.....Hange....the Hange

Then the crowd went wilder and even Levi’s fans just gasped with excitement because—damn that’s hot!

Even Hange herself were surprised but she couldn’t do anything since levi’s grip was too strong, lost in his own world as he ravishes her with kisses as if he doesn’t give a shit about everyone watching them

she doesn’t even know how long it lasted.

Then there’s Erwin in the crowd, capturing every moment with a camera because he’s the only one who wasn’t surprised about this

Stop the presses!

“Breaking news! Levi Ackerman frontman of No Name is having an illicit love affair!”

“It’s not breaking news if everyone already knows...” Porco rolls his eyes. Connie groans. Great. Now Porco is in his shot. The school’s journalism club is essentially him and Sasha with her phone’s camera. They do not have the skill nor the budget to edit him out.

“Who’s he dating then?” Sasha shoots back.

“Heard it’s a girl from another school.” Porco shrugs.

“Heard he’s gay...” Reiner offers.

“You just want him to be gay...” There’s sniggering and Reiner wants to punch Porco, but he’s a man of discipline, so no violence before breakfast.

“It’s just a rumour! He isn’t dating anyone! Levi’s too cool to date.” Eren says, gagging at the mention of the word. A literal child.

“Who would wanna date him?” Mikasa scoffs.

“Everyone in the school apart from you, Mikasa...” Petra says, “he’s dreamy...”

Connie urges the discussion on, Sasha capturing all of this. This is the best content they’ve gotten all week. “Come on! There are no bad answers!”

“Maybe he’s dating a fan?” Bertholdt says.

“Maybe he’s dating Hanji... They do seem rather close?” Pieck says, and the silence and scowls are intended to shame her. Connie looks at the aluminium foil on Pieck’s head. Right. The Signs movie screening organised by the conspiracy society is today.

“No bad answers except that one...” Connie says.

—

“You’re the talk of the town again...” Mike says, “they were discussing you on the school’s YouTube channel.”

Levi tsks. He doesn’t know why Mike bothers with that crap. It’s a pretty high quality production... he had justified, but there’s nothing high quality about Sasha’s shaky hands and Connie’s head covering half the frame. Everyone knows Mike enjoys the gossip, and there’s no one that enjoys it more. Except maybe Erwin.

“Do tell! Who is the enigmatic Levi Ackerman dating?” Erwin teases. He knows he’s not getting anything out of tight-lipped Levi. But it’s still worth a shot. Also worth seeing how annoyed he can get. Plus it’s not like they don’t already know.

If the canteen hadn’t been so goddamn full, Levi would’ve relocated long ago. Then again, his lunch groups hasn’t changed since his first day at school. The routine works.

“I’m sure you boys would be the first to know...” Nanaba chuckles. She had been the first to know and frankly. Levi’s inability to confess has been getting stifling. The only thing that really breaks the conversation though? Hanji tripping and landing face first on the table, lucky for her Levi moves her tray out of the way, saving her lunch, “watch it four eyes!”

“What did I miss?” Hanji asks, eyes already gleaming at the possibility of new knowledge.

“We were just talking about Levi’s illicit love affair.” Mike says. This is getting interesting.

“Awww Levi! You didn’t tell your ol’ pal Hanji that you were seeing someone?”

The rest of them exchange looks. God she’s so goddamn oblivious.

“Eat. We’ve got band practice before class.” Levi says, fingers already working to peel Hanji’s orange for her.

Nanaba winces. So goddamn oblivious.

—

“So we enter school today and Sasha what do we see?”

“Merch!” Sasha pops in front of the screen and does jazz hands with Connie.

“In the lead up to the big No Name concert, everyone’s donning their best No Name merch! First, let’s speak to the best in the game, Armin Arlert.”

Armin fidgets awkwardly, “ahaha I’m just a fan who just happens to make high quality merch.” Modest for someone earning big bucks from his enterprise.

“Ah... And you have competition this year!” Connie says into the microphone, which is really just rolled up newspaper.

“Well... The quality of my work speaks for itself...” Armin smiles sheepishly at the camera, but there’s something insidious in his eyes. Armin has to admit having sole monopoly over No Name merchandising in school has gone a little stale. Surely a little competition will spice things up.

“So Zeke, care to tell us more about your entry into the merchandise game?” Connie asks the bearded boy. Who has a full grown beard at their age? Connie makes a mental note to insert “sells bootleg merch” in the little panel that runs below Zeke’s interview. The whole school is also pretty sure Zeke had been behind the whole oregano debacle last year- someone had been passing oregano off as weed and selling it to the younglings.

“What’s there to say? Mine’s cheaper.” Zeke winks.

“So, satisfied customer. Why did you choose to buy Armin’s merch over Zeke’s?” Connie asks.

Pieck glances down at her Hanji shirt, “Armin got Hanji’s nose right.” She smiles.

In the background Armin and Eren are yelling at one another.

“How could you Eren! I thought we were best friends!” Armin says. Maybe the competition spiced things up a little too much.

“It was cheaper Armin! So much cheaper!”

Eren is wearing the ugliest shirt in school so, is it really worth it though?

—

“We are absolutely not blowing our budget on a confetti canon!”

“But Levi!” Hanji whines, “you already rejected so many of my ideas...”

“May I remind you that your previous ideas include a guillotine on stage, you repelling from the ceiling-“

“A tiger...” Mike adds and Hanji shoots him a look, traitor...

“It was two tigers...” she mutters under her breath. “Aww Levi you never let me do anything fun!” She pouts and Mike watches as Levi’s resolve slips an inch. There’s nothing more disgusting than the weakness of a man in love. Mike rolls his eyes. He had told Erwin if he wanted in on the action, he should join their band. There’s just so much to see that Mike has honestly had his fill. Or maybe he’s just saying it. Damn Nanaba was right, he enjoys this more than he’d care to admit.

“If you shut up through the next five songs, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“What about me?” Mike huffs.

“Deal!” Hanji shouts triumphantly, “and if you let me sing the chorus with you on this next song at the concert I’ll buy you dessert!”

“Almost as if I’m invisible...” Mike mutters.

“Fine... Deal... If you can hit the notes that is...”

“Ohhhh snap!” Mike says, and Levi turns to him for a high five. Mike smashes a beat on his drums. Hanji deadpans.

Ba dum fuckin tiss indeed.

—

“So it’s two days before the festival and the big No Name concert. Today, we’ve got a special treat for you. Roving reporter Jean Kirschtein will find out more about Levi’s love affair, straight from the horse’s mouth!”

Jean shoots Connie a dirty look. But the pun had not been intended. Connie mouths a quick apology before continuing, “but first, a word with the people closest to him-“ Connie nudges Jean towards the general direction of Erwin, Nanaba and Mike. Remember you owe me Jean! Connie whispers harshly when he senses his friend’s hesitation, now go!

Jean groans once more. God his reputation was going to take a hit. He’s vice captain of the soccer team for God’s sake. He doesn’t need this.

“Erwin Smith! A word? Uh... Thoughts on the rumours surrounding Levi Ackerman’s love life?” Jean asks. “Erwin Smith, football captain, history club president, student council treasurer, overall overachiever, and Levi Ackerman’s friend” appears on the screen. They all know if anyone’s likely to spill, it’s going to be Erwin.

Erwin’s eyes light up, he’s finally going on the channel he watches religiously with Mike. There’s so much he can contribute, so much gossip to share, so much insight. Maybe they would even invite him as a panelist on their show. The sheer power! He looks at Nanaba and she frowns at him and shakes her head. Ah damn it! He knows she’ll tear into him if he divulges too much.

“That’s strictly on a need to know basis.” Erwin grins.

“Well... Can you give us anything at all?” Jean asks. Please for the love of god he needs to pay Connie back somehow for setting him up on that date with Mikasa. God is generous but he can easily take it all away.

“We have good, solid guesses, but other than that... No... We can’t confirm anything...” Erwin answers, but not before glancing at Nanaba. She’s nodding. Good, that’s a good answer. Ambiguous enough to keep people wanting. Erwin is relieved. Jean isn’t however, he’s now certain that his debt is going to be rolled along a tab he will soon never be able to pay.

“Oh and the history society’s having quiz night next week, be there or be square!” Erwin plugs.

“Nerd!” Nile yells from across the hallway and Mike chortles.

It doesn’t take Jean long to find Hanji, after all she’s president of the biology club, so why wouldn’t she be in a lab elbow deep in a vat of something Jean doesn’t want to know the name of. It’s her kingdom with a whopping total of four subjects.

“Hanji Zoë, I’m here to ask for the latest on Levi Ackerman’s love life-“

Hanji Zoë- the school’s resident oddball, the genius herself, in the flesh, eating a checkerboard cookie. She looks up at him and there are crumbs on her face.

“Oh! Hi Jean!” Hanji looks up momentarily, “that’s easy, Levi’s in love with me.” She winks at Jean and chuckles. Jean’s jaw drops, surely she’s kidding. Hanji’s known for that after all- her quick wit and dismal personal hygiene. He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah... Okay...”

“See you at the concert?” She beams at him and he replies enthusiastically. Is she kidding? Everyone’s gonna be there. But Jean remains strategic, he leaves right before she gets the chance to talk his ear off about joining her club again. “Shoot... There goes another one...” she says under her breath as he exits the lab.

Jean bumps into Levi when he’s leaving the lab, odd, what’s Levi doing here, no matter, Jean has a job to do.

“Levi Ackerman! Care to comment on the recent rumours surrounding your-“

“No.” Levi interjects and heads off.

Jean flips the camera so he’s in it, “well, that’s the scoop. Back to you Connie and Sasha.”

—

“It’s the day of the festival! But really the whole school is buzzing with anticipation for the No Name concert!” Connie announces into his makeshift mic.

“Will there be another accident on-stage this time? Will Levi Ackerman reveal more on his secret romance? Is there even a secret romance to begin with? More importantly, will Porco Galliard finally pay for his own food at the festival?”

“Hey!” Porco whips his head around to glare at Connie, “did Reiner get you to say that?”

Connie shrugs, “we’ll find out after these messages...”

The concert is a blast, from a spectacular entrance (choreographed, no doubt, by one Hanji Zoë), to Mike’s drum solo, to Levi’s vocal riffs. But there’s an anticipation of another sort- will Levi Ackerman finally address the rumours of his love affair?

“My Levi-Hanji senses are tingling Nanaba...” Erwin says mid-concert. As the self-proclaimed expert on school gossip, there’s no gossip sweeter than that which surrounds his two best friends. Nanaba thinks it’s an overstatement of his abilities.

But Nanaba feels it too- the electricity in the air, “i think it’s finally happening!” She says, nothing short of a vision.

Levi announces the last song for the night, and he makes his way over to Hanji during the last chorus.

HUH?

Sasha’s cameras are rolling. She holds her breath, for what she doesn’t know, but she feels it coming, call it director’s intuition if you will.

Hanji looks at Levi and beams past the bandages over their eyes, now upgraded to a material they can actually see through, ever since that one accident with Hanji trying to execute a stage dive completely blind. It’s not fun explaining to the ER nurse how you managed to fracture your arm in so many locations.

Hanji’s expression changes to one of confusion when Levi closes the distance between them. This isn’t part of any plan. Her lips part in a gasp. The crowd falls silence, breath collectively held in anticipation. It’s happening. The most significant and exciting moment of their young lives.

What in the name of Maria, Rose, and Sheena!

Levi grabs Hanji by her ponytail and crashes his lips into hers. She forgets how to function, her guitar now hanging limp and forgotten. But her arms find their way around Levi’s neck. It’s just Mike on the drums now, roaring with laughter.

“Hell yes!” Mike exclaims and it’s captured by one of the mics, joined by Nanaba and Erwin at exactly the same time. There’s a flash from Erwin’s phone, there, immortalised in a photo forever. He knows it’ll come in handy one day. For blackmail or for a future wedding montage. Either is fine.

What just happened?

Connie’s jaw is hanging.

“Levi Ackerman and... and... Hanji Zoë?” Connie says, more for his own benefit than for his audience. Because this is Hanji they’re talking about? The Hanji Zoë? Resident evil genius, overall weirdo, oddly magnetic and popular amongst both the boys and the girls, Levi’s childhood friend Hanji Zoë? The answer had been staring them right in the face! Levi at the biology labs, Levi glowering at her, the bickering, the chemistry on and off stage.

Connie whips his head over to Pieck, and she winks at him, told you so!

“I don’t believe it! Stop the presses! Levi Ackerman, frontman of No Name, in love with the brilliant, the magnetic, the one and only... Hanji Zoë!”

Hanji is kissing Levi back with fervour, until they’re both blushing and giddy, the music long forgotten, and when everyone is done gawking, the crowd erupts in violent cheering. Who would’ve thought emotionally constipated Levi, Levi whose private life has been kept a secret for so long, safe from the prying hands of the school press and his loyal fans, would choose to make an announcement like this. What a night! What a spectacle!

“I guess that’s all for tonight folks, and what a fantastic and surprising evening it has been!” Connie laughs, “I’m Connie Springer, and you heard it here first!”

The confetti canon goes off. And Hanji watches with uninhibited joy as confetti rains down on the stage.

“So... Tigers next time?” Hanji says, unwrapping the bandages from her face, her eyes glazed over and more beautiful than anything Levi has ever seen. He scoffs, pressing another kiss to her lips for posterity.

“Don’t push it...”

(A/N: prompt so good I had to write a mini fic! Thank you anon💖💖💖)

#yes it me pretending the manga and its spoilers don’t exist #thank you anon💖#anon #inbox #Drabble #levihan #levihan fanfic #Levi x hange #Hanji Zoë #hange zoe #Levi Ackerman #mine #shingeki no kyojin

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Fluff ➔Warnings: Angst | Mentions of death | Cursing ➔Word count: 6,865

➔Summary: He was always yours, even before you wrote a book about him, even before he disappeared from your life after high school, and even before he broke his promise.

➔Request: can I request a drabble of haechan friends to lovers? 🥺

➔ I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a longer story that is more on the fluff side. I felt really inspired to do so. Thanks for sending in the request! 💚

You

You hated school. Not because you weren’t serious about your studies. You liked the subjects well enough. You liked eating lunch at a table, a little package of apple slices, and a chocolate milk that always tasted like the carton it was in. You liked hanging up your coat in the coat closet, little rain droplets dripping on the wooden floor when the weather was bad. You liked your teachers and how they would encourage your love of reading. You liked all the things to like except one: school hours meant time away from him.

Him. He pulled your hair sometimes when he was bored. You cried once, your mother saying something sexist about how he must like you. Your father never paid attention, just kept watching the television. You wondered if all boys were that stupid. He also made fun of the way your nose would wiggle when you talked. He had a smart comment for everything. He thought he was smarter than you, even. There weren't many nice things to say right off the top of your head, but you loved him anyway.

During the school year, the school hours especially, you never talked to him. He was off parading around with his squad of friends, each one more pigheaded than the last. They’d act like they didn’t care about school in the schoolyard, but all of them got decent grades. Sometimes they would pick on others boys, the principal telling others that that’s just what boys did. Sometimes he would raise his hand in class and answer the right question, and even though you sat next to each other in class, he’d never look at you.

Your school life was a little different. You were off spending time hovering by doorways, wishing the days would end until you could see him again. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, a question of whether you truly knew him or not always on your tongue. You didn’t spend time pretending other people were your friends, because your best friend had always been him.

After school felt like a different time zone. Neither of you took your time with homework. You would rush, a telltale sign being poorly erased letters and crumpled papers shoved into bookbags. Usually, he would walk to your house and meet you in the tent in the backyard, talking long before he reached the entrance. He always talked about his day as if you weren’t in it. He liked to talk a lot.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you would say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

You were both at an age where you were figuring stuff out. You fought a lot, with him storming out of your backyard tent and walking home, and you resisting the urge to follow him. There was always a phone call from his concerned mother, eased by your own mother reassuring her that you’d both work out your differences soon. You’d been best friends since you were even younger, clinging to each other only when other people weren’t looking. It was too late to make a clean break.

Summers were your favorite because you had him all to yourself. At that age, you weren’t aware that keeping him was holding him back from other things. You were all too happy to lounge on a beach with him, watching him get stuck in the sand and laughing at him until your stomach hurt. To you, it was the purest form of love.

Time made things weird, as it does. The summers you used to love started fading out. He no longer came on family trips. Instead, he went to summer camps with other thirteen-year-old boys. He would come back boasting about being taught to shave his face by the older kids, and then he would show you his new skills. Even though you were disinterested, you always watched him intensely, thinking that if he let you in to this one valuable piece of information, he would open the door to the rest. He never did.

Gradually, after-school hangouts were taken away from you, too. Your father’s only contribution to any conversation was to say that your best friend would be more interested in girls now. Even as your parents left you alone, the words of “But I’m a girl!” leaving your lips until the last light was shut off, you never really understood what it meant. In fact, it wasn’t until he flirted with someone else in front of your face that you got the hint. You were a girl, but he never thought of you that way. And he would rather spend his time after school walking to someone else’s house.

None of that was as bad as high school was. Up until then, you’d been clutching at straws to make the friendship what it once was. You made the tent bigger to accommodate his growing frame. You offered to pay for movies if he’d come alone, and you would even sit through the boring ones just for him. On the rare chance that you’d guilt trip him into staying a little longer with you, it was enough to keep you enduring. When high school truly hit, the studying took up most of your time. The scraps that were left were spent having family time, or visiting schools your mother wanted you to attend after high school.

Though he no longer ignored you in school, things had gotten harder. He was dating often, sweeping girls off their feet with his wild, charming sense of humor. It was hard for them not to get jealous of you. Though you weren’t around much, the bond you both shared was obvious to everyone who watched the pair of you together. He never really wanted to choose between his childhood best friend and someone he was seeing, but the choice was always very apparent to you.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

You shut it down quickly, appalled that he would even suggest a thing. When you realized your dismissal must have hurt his feelings, you backtracked.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked.

His smile made you feel like you were on top of the world. Of course he had someone to introduce to you. Thus, the double date was born. You could tag along with him and his girlfriend, with a friend of his you eventually started dating. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it had rekindled something in your friendship you didn’t know you’d been missing.

He had even come around to your house more. You came home from a study group one time to see him in your childhood tent, his long legs sticking out of it. He bent his body forward, holding up a bag of snacks you recognized.

“You still sit in here?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

He got a far away look in his eyes, like he did whenever he was truly going to say something stupid. There were times he spoke philosophically, because deep down, he was never the stupid little boy you said he was.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. It pulled you to wherever he was at, back in time to when things felt much easier than they were. High school was ending, and you were all walking down different paths, none of them leading back to this tent.

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, to take his hand and hold it in yours. There was something in you that couldn’t do it. You just kept chewing, waiting for him to keep talking.

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time.

Sadly, after high school, the promise was never kept. The image of him walking away from your backyard was the last time you saw him in any place you called home.

~♡~

You held the phone away from your ear because it was too hot. In your other hand, you held a cold, strawberry smoothie, the condensation dripping down your fingers. The sidewalks were busy, so it was tricky trying to weave in and out of the people, all while holding an unfinished manuscript for the next book you were writing. Years of dodging kids in school hallways made you a pro. As you were about to collide with a delivery man, you spun around gracefully and avoided disaster. After taking a sip of smoothie, you brought the phone closer to your ear.

“Do people still do book signings for physical copies?” you asked. “I thought everything was about selfies now. I definitely don’t look good with the flash on.”

“Of course.” your agent told you over the phone. “I don’t think anyone over the age of existence does. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” you said.

Your agent on the other end sighed. “You’re too young to be worried about any of this. I’ll book you for the signing and people will come, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You wanted to rattle off all the reasons you were freaking out over it, but you were in public. You took another sip of smoothie and looked at the manuscript tucked against your body. Twenty-four and published, with your book rising in the charts, and a second book underway. You shouldn’t be so scared to have human interactions with strangers who enjoy your work, and yet...

“Okay.” you said, closing your eyes for a moment.” Okay, you can do it. I don’t know why I get like this. Seriously, you’re the best.”

“I know. I know.” your agent said. “Take a bath and relax. Call me later.”

You hung up and threw your phone in the deep recesses of your bag. Your one hand was wet, and you didn’t want it touching the papers, so you tucked them deeper against your body and kept on walking.

~♡~

“A book signing. Can you believe it?” you said into the phone. There was no answer on the other end, not even a little static. You walked a little slower on the sidewalk, letting the outside world disappear from your vision. You took a deep breath. “I sold so many copies, mom. I know you would be proud of me.”

The message ended with a beep. You left the phone on your ear and stopped walking. You stood still, wondering if one day calling your mother and leaving messages on her old cell phone would eventually make you feel better. She died shortly after you graduated from high school, and the phone number was the only part of her still kept alive. You called it whenever you felt a little lost, or on days when you had exciting news to share.

Feeling a tightness in your chest, you turned off your phone and dropped it into your bag. You were almost home, but you felt like you weren’t ready to face your apartment again. You found it so funny that your professional life was so full and booked, but your personal life was so hollow and empty.

You turned away, thinking that you could retrace your steps and find yourself on a street with a cafe still open. You would gladly sit at that table and write, watching strangers living their lives, each one stuffed to the brim of character. Men that tried hitting on women who were disinterested, the click-clacking of their heels walking away from potential danger. Mothers with their children, each child holding a mushy, spit-covered ice cream cone. There was always someone who didn’t belong in the crowd, someone your eyes glossed over, and someone who brought up memories of someone you used to know. It was your favorite pastime: watching people who weren’t watching you. You smiled at the thought of getting to live those many lives, when you remembered that there was always a writing deadline to attend to.

Another time, you thought, before taking the remaining steps to your apartment and looking through the darkened glass front door. Maybe you would take up your agent's suggestion of taking a bath.

Feeling a little more jolly, you walked up the steps and let yourself in. You stopped to check your mailbox (empty), stopped to check your phone messages one last time (also empty), and lastly, checked your surroundings. When you were sure no one was around, you walked up the steps, feeling tired both mentally and physically. When you reached the top of the hallway, you stopped.

“Haechan.” you said, his name too quiet for him to hear.

Sitting outside your door, a hood over his head, sat the boy who used to pull on your ponytail. Only now, the figure in all-black clothes, a little 5 o’clock shadow on his face, the one that looked up at you like he didn’t recognize you, pulled at your heartstrings.

~♡~

You liked to remember Haechan often, especially considering the main character of your book was written with him in mind. Well, you changed his name in the book and made him a lot cooler, but the core of him was the same. Both men were the epicenter of your whole world, even though one of them had left years ago.

Looking at him sitting on your floor transported you back in time. Briefly, your mind tried to convince yourself that you were seeing a ghost from the past. But, when he got up from the floor, approaching you cautiously, and he paused for a second before reaching out his arms to hug you, your fingertips knew what your brain didn’t: he was real.

“Why are you here?” you blurted, pulling away from him, your body regretful that you had let him go.

“I don’t get a hello?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows, the surprise on your face real. You were struggling with words, which annoyed you as a writer. All you could do was look at his face and how much it had changed over the last few years. He was a man now. He was a little taller, and the baby fat on his cheeks was gone. He still couldn’t dress right, and the old confidence faded, but he was still as handsome as ever. When he smiled to show that he was joking, you couldn’t stop looking at his teeth.

“How did you find out where I live?” you asked.

“Your dad.” he said.

Haechan didn’t so much as give his apologies for missing your mother’s funeral, and he had the good graces not to bring her up at all. You felt grateful, saving the pain of both things for another time.

“I don’t talk to him much anymore.” you said. “He only comes by to give me old things he thinks I want.”

Not knowing what to do with the piece of information, Haechan shoved his hands into his pockets. You hated how awkward it felt being in front of him. The silence outside of your apartment was magnified by your deep breathing.

“Are you here because of my book?” you asked.

Puzzled, Haechan blinked. “Book? I didn’t read your book.”

You adjusted your bag in your hands and thought of something to say. Before you could speak, Haechan motioned to the bag he brought sitting in front of your apartment door. You looked at it, the big black boulder holding no significance to you.

“I was actually just passing through town. I was wondering if you could let me stay a night.” he said.

Him

He said he hated the apples, even though they were his favorite fruit. He put them on your lunch tray when you weren’t looking, because if you’d seen him do it, you would have made a fuss. Then, he’d get up from your table and go back to wherever his other friends were, because that was what was expected of him. But his eyes always went back to your table to make sure you were eating well, and he would try his best to remember the way you’d smile when you looked down and saw what he had left behind.

He hated school. It was full of adults who tried to change him. Laugh a little less, they said. Don’t be a clown. Don’t make too much trouble. There was never any room for dreamers or troublemakers, never any kind of future for those who didn’t have plans by the time they were pulled from the womb. Behave and listen. Listen and learn, or we’ll call your parents. He had heard it all by the time he was thirteen, and he hated every bit of it.

Not you, though. You never tried to change him. You let him go on his way, even though he knew you felt like he was abandoning you. You were the only person he trusted most days, and in the tent in your backyard, he had felt most like himself.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you had said once. You were angry, he could see it in the way you tried not to say what you wanted to say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

He hadn’t known, either. They liked the way he made them laugh, and he liked the attention they gave him. They were different, in the way that they didn’t remind him that friendships were temporary, that everyone you know might someday disappear. He was terrified of that, of the idea that good things didn’t last.

“Are you jealous?” he asked.

He wanted the words to sting. He knew you were jealous, and he knew you would never admit to it. He would have been jealous, too, if the roles were reversed. He wanted nothing more than for you to admit that you cared about him, that you loved him, or to rouse any kind of feeling in you at all. Those words spawned a fight that made it hard for either of you to bounce back from. He pulled and picked at you until you were deteriorating in front of his eyes. Choice words were said, and though the wounds healed as you both grew older, neither of you really forgot the beginning of the end.

Summer came and went, time never slowing down for anybody. The hatred burning in his heart subsided as he grew into himself more, though he never really learned how to savor the moments as they happened. He was always reaching for more, stuffing his greedy face full of anything that could keep him content.

His phone calls to you melted down to just one call per week. He didn’t stop by the tent as much, didn’t ask to catch up on homework. He was drifting through school, using the passage of time to measure the length of girls legs, and how they’d move in his direction any time he smiled.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

His bright idea didn’t rub off on you. You didn’t smile, didn’t look at him the excited way he looked at you. When you shut it down so quickly, he wondered if your rejection had something to do with him. He was trying really hard to keep your friendship alive, even catching up in the hallways before class to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked, a simple smile appearing and disappearing before he could blink.

Introducing you to one of his friends, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. He’d had better, but he could hardly take it back. You looked happy when his friend's attention was on you. You were radiant. And it was the perfect set-up. You both could double date and spend time together, just like the old days, even making both of your dates uncomfortable by how close of a bond you had together.

When the jealousy arrived in a perfect little handbasket, he was sure it was payback for treating you differently, as he was getting to know himself more. He burned whenever he saw you with the other boy, whenever you reached out for his hand, your lips quivering for a kiss. He would stay up late at night in a restless fit, his mind taking turns convincing himself that you were losing your virginity every waking moment.

“You’re spending a lot of time at my house.” you had said to him on more than one occasion.

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I can go home, if you want.”

“No.” you said quickly, your eyes sparkling.

He wanted to kiss you then. It was a fleeting , special moment, and it hovered in the air between you both from that moment forward. He thought maybe he was imagining it, but he had been close to many girls, and no one looked at him the way you did.

Sitting in your tent, his legs stretched out of it because he was too big, he thought back to every time you made his heart do backflips in his chest. Ever since you were small, he had feelings for you. In fact, his parents used to joke that the two of you would end up together one day, maybe have a wedding in the backyard, your inside jokes written into your vows.

Hearing leaves crunching underfoot, he sat up. “You still sit in this thing?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

He wasn’t sure why. He had been taking a walk and found himself there, his feet knowing exactly where to go. He had been thinking too hard about life after high school, and about what kind of man he wanted to be.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. Getting you to eat properly was important to him. If he wasn’t around to remind you to take care of yourself, how would you survive the rest of life without him?

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

When he felt like he was going to cry, he shoved more food into his face. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he should continue. When you remained quiet, he began again.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time. It would be so easy to seal the deal with a real kiss, one that had been years in the making. But he didn’t, and neither did you.

“I have to go.” he said, getting to his feet. “You’re going to keep your promise, right?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” you asked.

~♡~

He was raised not to comment on the state of other people’s homes, good or not. Looking around yours, he wanted so badly to tell you how well you were doing for yourself, and how proud of you he was. He looked around, his fingers itching to touch the pretty ceramic birds on an end table, to run a fingertip on a dustless counter and hold it up to the light.

“You can put your bag down over here.” you said, motioning to a spot beside the couch. “My couch isn’t much, but it is comfortable.”

You were a little awkward, your eyes unable to connect with his. He could see your mind waiting to defend yourself against the little jabs old Haechan would have made about your space. When he didn’t, you didn’t let your shoulders relax. He moved further inside your apartment, and to your confusion, he said it was a nice place, and that he would be happy to sleep wherever.

Compared to your nerves, he was quite calm. He felt like he had walked into a time machine and transported himself into the backyard again. It was like nothing had changed at all. You still looked the same, with nicer clothes that looked more expensive than the average persons. It looked like you went to the hair salon to ask for an “adult” haircut, but your baby face made it hard to take you seriously.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Haechan shrugged. “Sure.”

When you didn’t ask if he was hungry, Haechan made himself comfortable on the couch. You sat on an opposite chair, folding your hands in your lap. You kept looking around the room nervously, as if you were scared to be alone with a stranger. It hurt him a little bit, but he was mature enough to let it slide.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” he said.

“It’s fine.”

Haechan sighed. “This is much harder than I thought it would be.”

“What is?” you asked, touching your fingers to your neck.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

You got up from your chair as if you’d been electrocuted. “I forgot I need to make a phone call. I will be right back. Don’t touch anything.”

Haechan watched you as you grabbed your bag and left the room. Never one to keep still, an old habit that never died, he got up and looked around. He came across the room you entered and saw that the door was ajar. He didn’t listen to the conversation, just grabbed little pieces of it regarding a book signing to take place the next day.

“So soon?” he heard you ask the person on the other end of the phone.

Haechan walked away, his attention set on the fireplace. On top of it sat a bunch of picture frames, one of which he was in. Haechan stared at it for a long time, his eyes tracing the outline of the little boy he used to be. In the picture, the two of you were hanging onto each other. You were maybe eight years old, ice cream running down your chin, and a blissful ignorance only a child can carry on your sweet face.

He didn’t know where things had gone wrong. The two of you should have been friends forever. It just made sense. He reached out to touch his fingers to the photo but reeled back when he saw your face in the reflection.

“My mother took that photo.” you said, appearing behind him.

He nodded. “I remember.”

The air was heavy. He wanted to apologize for not going to her funeral. He had been out of the country during that time, but he should have called you. He could have written a letter, he could have done anything else but ignore it.

“I was scared.” Haechan said, the words surprising himself.

You held up a hand, as if you didn’t want to talk about it, but Haechan continued, “I loved her, too.”

You turned your back and went into the kitchen. Quietly, Haechan followed. He wasn’t going to bring it up anymore. He sensed your sadness because it brewed in his chest, too. He sat on a stool as you got yourself a cup and poured cold water from a pitcher into it.

“How was your trip?” you asked, your voice shaky.” Are you still traveling?”

Since he left high school, Haechan felt aimless. He needed to explore the world in an attempt to further his education surrounding himself. He had traveled to many countries and met many people that changed him. Disappearing was never the plan, but it was addicting to not have phone calls, or to adhere to schedules.

“I’m seeing where it goes.” he said.

You took a sip of water and never stopped looking at him. When you were done, you placed it on the counter. “I guess I should ask the million dollar question.”

Haechan leaned back in his stool, “Hit me with what you got.”

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to pay for a hotel.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“Haechan, I’ve known you all my life.” you said. “Lying is your calling.”

“I wanted to see you.”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” he said. “I’ve never lied to you.”

The bitterness was morphing your face. He could tell you were thinking back to the promise, about how broken it had made you. After he left, he heard from his parents that you called his house often to ask where he had gone. You wrote him letters that were undelivered. You nearly followed him halfway across the world until your mother got sick.

“Okay.” he said. “It wasn’t a lie when I made that promise. I had every intention of being with you until we were old and wrinkly.”

“Please.” you said. “You knew what you were going to do before you did it. You booked the plane ticket two weeks in advance. You were with me at graduation. You kissed me.”

He remembered the kiss well. He had thought about it often on his travels, remembering the way your velvety lips felt, and how he never wanted to stop kissing you. The kiss made sense. It was the one thing time had every permission to slow down.

“I know.” he said.

He kissed you. You didn’t kiss him. He was happy about graduating. He was riding the high of the plane ticket, of the unknown waiting for him. He was scared it was the last chance he had to show you his feelings. When you kissed him back and it felt so good, he was then scared that he would never have the guts to leave.

You continued speaking, each word obliterating his thoughts, “ You want to think going away was just some spontaneous thrill, Haechan, but it fucking wasn’t. You could have told me it was what you wanted. I would have understood. You didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye. You didn’t have to-”

You couldn’t say the words, so he finished them for you. “-leave. I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t an excuse, but I...didn’t want to lose you.”

The words felt stupid as soon as he said them. You held your hand up to your head and said you had a headache. Haechan took the time to excuse himself and use the bathroom, locking himself away to figure out what he really thought was going to happen when he showed up at your door to get you back.

You

You collapsed onto your couch. The last hour felt like a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. You were older and more equipped to handle confrontation, but there was something about seeing Haechan that made you want to curl in your mother’s lap like a child. You bit down on your thumb and thought of the ways you could ask him to leave your private space. There was a hotel down the street that was relatively cheap.

You looked at the photo on the fireplace. The little boy staring back at you had no idea one day he would break your heart into a million pieces. He was still a little unsure of himself, his smile unknowingly gearing up to be mischievous in a few years time. You thought of the grown man in the bathroom, and how the years had passed, but he still felt the same. A part of you wanted to pinch his cheek and wrap your arms around him like you would when you were young. An even bigger part of you wanted to kiss him to see if the feelings still lingered, even though you already knew the answer to that.

Moving your foot, you accidentally nudged his backpack. You looked down at it. It was worn in places, with band buttons adorning the front. One of the zippers was open and the edge of something was sticking out. You looked at your closed bathroom door and back to the backpack before gathering up your courage and unzipping it slowly.

Digging your hand inside, you pulled out a corner of his underwear. With a quick “Ew”, you shoved it back inside. Your knuckle touched against something hard. You wrapped your hand around it and unearthed it to see that it was your book. You pulled it out even more and audibly gasped.

“You liar.” you whispered.

Hearing the toilet flush, you panicked and pulled the book all the way out and shoved it underneath your couch pillow. Quickly, you zipped his backpack and sat back, crossing one leg over the other. When Haechan came out, he hardly looked at you.

“Coming here was a bad idea,” he said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

You stood up. “Wait.”

Haechan didn’t hear you. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. You could see that his face was wet where he had thrown water on it. He didn’t make eye contact with you, just waved his hand and apologized for being an inconvenience.

“Leaving again?” you said.

Haechan stopped moving. He turned back. “I thought about you every day I was gone. Every day. And every day, my next thought was that I didn’t deserve you.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. For a beat or two, you both stared, your eyes searching each other's. You could see every age of Haechan since you’d known him on his face, from the adorable child to the handsome adult.

You let Haechan leave this time. He closed the door with a soft click, his presence feeling like a fever dream. Mindlessly, you sat back down on your couch, and only remembered the book still laying there after some time.

You took your book and placed it on your lap. It was so worn that some of the pages were slipping out of the binding. You opened it carefully and flipped through the pages, the margins filled up with black pen ink. Haechan had written down his input on most pages with things like:

Am I really like this? There is no way this guy is cooler than me.

You know? You’re actually kind of funny.

Your mother was better than us all.

You closed the book with a snap and felt the tears falling. You put your head down and tried to feel everything all at once.

~♡~

Your agent walked next to you, her stride slowing to match yours. She didn’t outright say you looked like shit, though it was the truth. Your eyes were a little red, your cheeks were puffy, and you kept itching your neck all throughout the night until there were red scratch marks all on your skin.

She held open the door to the bookstore “Are you nervous?”

“Am I nervous?” you asked. “I’m shitting myself. I don’t think anyone is going to show up, but with my life, I’m pretty sure I can deal with the embarrassment.”

Your agent rattled on and on about how special you were to people. She dragged you throughout the two story bookstore, pulling you harder when you tried stalling. You mostly blocked out her words to save your sanity. You didn’t love when people tried buttering you up.

“Just over in this section.” she said. “It starts in twenty minutes, so don’t expect many people right away.”

When you both turned the corner, there was a sizable line leading up to a table stacked with new books. When the people saw you, they gawked. Some clapped, which made your face turn as hot as your neck.

“I can’t do this.” you whispered.

Your agent directed you to a chair, holding you down by your shoulders, so you wouldn’t run away. You took a sip of cold water sitting by your side.

“They’re all here for you.” she said. “Smile and try to be happy.”

“I’ll try.” you said, but when someone smiled at you in front of the line, you felt yourself returning a genuine smile.

Twenty minutes passed by faster than you wished. When the first person approached the table, you tried to remember your school teachers who believed in you. You recalled all the people who inspired your stories, making a mental bid to thank them for making the first signing so sweet.

“I really love how you write.” someone had said. Hearing those words made you feel touched. You tried your hardest not to tear up, signing your sloppy signature as best you could.

“Thank you.” you said, the gratitude you felt hopefully being translated well.

You signed for a long time, the line growing and growing as time passed. Some people came with their own dog-eared books, others with fresh copies. They asked what your upcoming book was about, which made you excited to finish writing it.

“There isn’t a set ending quite yet, but I’m writing like crazy!” you said.

You looked down at a book before you and smiled, your fingers touching the pages softly. You signed it and handed it back, giving the fan a smile that reached your eyes. When your eyes locked with his, you felt the world move. Staring back at you was Haechan.

“I would have given you my own copy to sign.” he said. “But I seem to have misplaced it.”

There was a knowing smile on his face that made you feel flushed all over. He took the signed book back and tucked it underneath his arm. Since yesterday, he looked freshly showered in a similar black t-shirt and jeans. His hair was carefully laid flat on his head like he cared what he looked like in public. He looked handsome, and his cheeks were definitely not puffy.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you read the book?” you asked.

“You and I both know I don’t make the best choices.” he said.

You smiled faintly. There was pain in the smile he returned. You wanted so badly to reach across the table and smooth away the lines on his forehead.

“I know this isn’t the best place.” he said, turning around to look at the line behind him. “But I came here to tell you the truth of why I was outside of your door yesterday.”

“Okay.” you said, your attention no longer on those people.

Haechan continued. “You see, I’m not traveling anymore. “

“You’re not?” you asked. “Then, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming home.”

You didn’t know what he expected of you, but he looked a little deflated when you held out your hand. He looked at the book under his arm and back at your hand, his smile unsure. He took the book out and placed it gently into the palm of your hand. You placed the book back onto the table and opened to the space where you had signed your name.

“I’m not going to ask for promises anymore.” you said. “I’ve always asked you for too much. For now, I would just like to tell you something.”

In the book, just below your name, you signed “I love you, Haechan.”

Before you could even close the book, Haechan came around the table and brought you into a big hug that certainly felt like home.

#haechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #haechan fluff #haechan fanfiction #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck fanfiction #nct haechan #nct fluff #nct fanfiction

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oiksuga · 3 years

Text

come on and show me

prompt: smell of mint: “the strength of love and hate are one in the same.“ for @tooruluv | #tooruluv2kparty pairing: oikawa x f!reader tags: angst, misunderstandings, childhood neighbors to enemies (?) to ?, rated M for Makeout (so rated pg-13) warnings: underage alcohol consumption, ambiguous ending wc: ~4k synopsis: the one where you and oikawa grow up right next door of each other. complementary songs: unholy - hey violet // new girl - finneas // like real people do - hozier a/n: this fic had me biting my nails. i haven’t written in ages and to tackle something this long made me woozy. hope you enjoy it! (update: decided to turn it into a semi-angsty one-shot instead, maybe i’ll continue it as a side project, but for now, it is done!) no beta we die like men. i’ll proofread later.

You first meet Tooru Oikawa at the age of six. He had just moved to your street. The house right next door, no less. Quiet, shy, a bit of a crybaby. He clung to his mother for the entirety of that first meeting, a stuffed cartoon alien tightly clutched in his right hand. Your mothers, naturally, hit it off. You and Oikawa on the other hand, well that’s was a work in progress.

You tried to play nice, you really did. Your mother had told you about how it was just them two and his older sister. His father had died a little over a year before. So obviously you felt bad. You went over to his house on a few ocassions. His mother would welcome you with open arms each and every time. He was another story.

He had enough manners to come say hello, even inviting you up to his room to play with some toys (at the behest of his mother) but the minute she was out of sight, he’d go back to his own things, paying you no attention. Not that you particularly fancied playing with him, but if you walked this far to visit him, you would think he could acknowledge you for more than 2 minutes.

Tired of wasting valuable playtime sitting on the floor of his room, you take matters into your own hands and ask your brother for advice. He was a year older than you and Oikawa, so naturally you believed he held the secrets to the universe.

You approached him after dinner, and presented him with your problem.

“And I don’t know why he makes it so hard to be friends. And mom just keeps forcing me to visit him.” The huff of indignation only made him laugh.

“Well Y/n, you have to understand that he’s lonely. He is not very used to having others around him.”

“But if he is so lonely, wouldn’t hanging out with me make him feel better?”

“Remember how mom told you his dad is no longer with him?” you nod, “Well he has been living with other girls so much he probably wants to play with another boy. Guys don’t always want to play princesses you know?”

“So would he want to play with me if anothery boy was present?”

“Well, that is up to him, but it would interest him.”

“Then will you come with me tomorrow when I go over?”

“Sure”

And that is how you found yourself at his doorstep once again, brother in tow. His mother practically bounced off the walls seeing he had accompanied you. Did she also think he needed a boy to play with? She called Oikawa down, and you could hear some grumbling from his end. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a confused looked ag the sight of two people instead of one.

Your brother went up to him first.

“Hey, uh Tooru right?” First name basis already?“I’m Y/n’s older brother. Well I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out with me and a couple of my friends today?”

Huh, so that was his plan. Your brother is the unofficial leader of his group of friends, comprised of various kids in the neighbourhood. Some his age, some more around yours. They like to cause trouble and torment other kids at times. Your mothers were close too. Unfortunately for you, none of them had any sisters your age. So everytime you were supposed to play with them, you were miserable.

After that first meeting, your brother and Oikawa had become quite the pair. He took him “under his wing” (as he liked to call it) and formally inducted him to his squad. They were over the moon to have someone new to hang out with (read corrupt). You, on the other hand, could not hate it more. Now that those two were buddies, Oikawa was always present in your home. Anywhere you looked he was there. And now that he had other people to be with, he came out of his shell. Gone was that snotty kid with the alien plush, now replaced with a self-absorbed bastard you wanted no relation to. Too bad he never took the hint. It got worse once you both turned 14.

“You know Y/n, I’ve gotten so many confession letter this week. But oddly enough, I have not gotten one from you. You need to hurry up before one of these girls wins your spot as my girlfriend.”

“Well good thing I have enough smarts to never feel the need to do something like that.”

“Ouch Y/n you are killing me over here. Whatever, I’ll just look for it in your room when you are gone.”

“What the- how are you going to do that? You know what don’t tell me. Just please get out.”

“Or you are gonna do what? Call your brother to-“

He was interrupted by the arrival of yet another nuisance in your room.

“Hey Oikawa, please leave the poor girl alone. Stop being such a pain”

Enter Hajime Iwaizumi. Ah Iwaizumi. The other half of the obnoxious duo. Not that you don’t like him. No, quite the opposite. He keeps Oikawa tame and off your hair, something which you are deeply grateful for. But he also has his habits of annoying the crap out of you. All of your brother’s friends do. But you like to think that deep down they’d do anything for you.

“Not now Iwa-chan, Y/n is about to confess her secret feelings for me.” He says, clearly aware of the growing irritation on his friend’s face.

“Don’t make me pull you by your hair again. We are going to be late for the movie.” He emphasized his threat by rolling up sleeves, a tell-tale sign he was about to beat the crap out of Oikawa.

“Alright alright Iwa-chan you are such a hard ass.” He now turns to you, taking a few steps forward and stands right in front of you. “I’ll see you later, m’lady.” With that nickname, he took your right hand and kissed your knuckles. You could only srunch up your face. Gross, how many of those shows are he watching.

You heard the downstairs door shut and with that, it was silent again.

Finally, peace.

Years went by, and Oikawa’s popularity only skyrocketed. Everyone around him found him attractive, so naturally they’d hang on to him. He was also really good in volleyball, so everyone would go to see him play. Your brother and him remained close friends. Hosting parties together, going on weekend long trips with all their friends. All things you were forbidden from participating in because, as your brother said, this is not the crowd you want to be with. Your parents still let you host your own events, but nothing of that magnitude.

Soon enough, years went by, and you began your senior year of high school. This was going to be your years. With your brother now gone, having graduated and gone off to college, it’s your turn to be the life of the party. No more “you can’t be there.” Now all eyes will be on you. And what a better way to make your debut than with a party. While classes didn’t start until a week later, it was your brother’s tradition to take over your parent’s beach house for a weekend and hold a last big major bash before the semester began.

Invitations were sent, music was chosen and all that was left to do was tidy up the place. You brought some of your friends with you to help you get the place ready before the chaos began. Sweeped everything, locked away valuables, and got them settled in two of the rooms so they could sleep comfortably after. As you were outside stocking up the bar area, you heard a collection of voices coming from the living room. It’s too early, why are there people coming already? As you walk back in, you are greeted with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and their two friends, who were also part of your brother’s group, Hanamaki and Matsukawa, all too sitting too comfortably in your couch.

“I hope you guys know this is a respectable place.” You crossed your arms at the sight of them getting too comfortable in your couches. Feet up on coffee table like savages.

Oikawa spoke first. “Relax darling,” God you hated that nickname, “You do know we have been here more times than you right? The parties that have happened in this place oh man.” You felt indignated at his attempt to one up you in your own home.

“Well if I recall correctly, this is still my parentms place, so I can have you and your friends kicked if I wanted to.”

At that, the other three butted in, a chorus of “Oikawa what the hell man,” and the sound of Iwaizumi hitting the back of his head.

“Okay fine. I’m sorry Y/n that you are so jealous of me and my party animal ways.”

“God you are exhausting. But anyways, I am glad you guys are here because I need help hanging some lights outside. Iwa and Mattsun, could you pretty please come with me to hang these?”

You led them outside, before sticking your head back in, directing your gaze to the two remaining guys camping in your couch.

“And don’t think I have forgotten about you two. Kiyoko needs some help putting more stuff together, and the rest of the girls went out to order food, so please make yourselves useful and go.”

You play some music on the speakers, and get to work.

Soon enough, the party was in full swing. You swam through the sea of bodies trying to locate the kitchen. The sheer number of people was disorienting. But to your luck, the swaying crowd somehow guided you to your destination, slightly sticky from stranger’s sweat, but otherwise unscathed. You make way to the counter and try and lift yourself onto it. The drinks in your system making in a harder task than usual. You are halfway through climbing in a more unlady-like manner, when a voice calls out for you.

“Uh Y/n, need some help?”

You turn around to see Oikawa. His face was flushed, you assumed it was from whatever was in the plastic cup in his hand. Hair disheveled, forehead shiny from his sweat. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, and the lighting made his chain glint at an angle. If he wasn’t Oikawa, you’d admit he was attractive.

You become aware of your compromising position and stop your attempts of getting on the counter. The suddent movements make you wobbly, and you grab onto the counter to keep stable. You notice him walking over to you, and motion for him to stop.

“I don’t need your help. Just get me a water bottle from the fridge please.”

He obliges your request and gets some water for you, going so far as to opening the bottle, and hands it you. You are silently grateful, as you don’t think you have the coordination to do it yourself. As you are drinking, feeling the relief of the coolness down your throat, you notice he’s staring at you. This felt odd, there was something about the way he looked at you. You felt too vulnerable. It was getting awkward.

“So, you enjoying the party? I saw you doing a shots competition outside earlier. Did you win, Mr. Party Animal?” You made sure to emphasize the mock of his nickname.

He huffs indignantly. “Well Y/n-chan, cannot believe you doubt my abilities. If you must know, I did in fact win, with an impressive 5 shots down my system. And look at me, cool as a cucumber.”

You look at him for a second, brows furrowed, and then burst out laughing. “‘Cool as a cucumber’? God you are lame.”

All he can do is stare at you. You have never laughed like that. It’s always measured, not too loud, not too long. This is different. He likes different.

When you stop, you notice he is staring again. You feel small. As if you are under a million spotlights, all pointed at you. You are about to ask if he was okay, but seems like someone beat you to it.

“Hey Tooru~ I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?” She notices the position you are in, and slightly grimaces, “Tooru who is this.”

He blinks, a bit too hard, and turns to face her. “Hey Sara, this is Y/n,” he motions to you, “you know, the one who organized this party.”

Sara. You know who she is. And she definitely knows you. You two met at the last student council election, a few months back. When you found out you were running agaisnt each other. She was the current president, and you held a lower position as secretary, so running for president felt like a giant leap. Though it seems that after a month of campaigning, debates, and a tiresome election you had won. A very exciting moment, and what felt as a good culmination to your high school career. You and Sara had an extensive talk about it over coffee, in which she assured no ill feelings towards you.

By no means were you guys best friends, but you also like to think you were not enemies.

“Oh Y/n and I know each other. Great to see you again, and amazing party, you really know how to entertain.” Well that answers that, she doesn’t hate you. Great. “Do you mind if I borrow Tooru over here? There are some things I need to talk to him about.”

“No problem at all, glad you are having fun.” You wave goodbye and with that they were gone. You were alone.

Now feeling more sobered up, you decide to go back to the masses. Your newfound energy leading you to the makeshit dancefloor, letting loose to Makk’s karaoke rendition of Pursuit of Happiness. What a movie moment. Everything letting loose in a beach house living room.

The thing that wasn’t a movie moment though? How much you needed to pee. How come no one ever informs you of the effects alcohol has on your bladder?

Once again, you venture through the bodies to find the bathroom. There was no line, which should have been a sign. But you made no thought of it, until you swung the door open and found, in the most cliche moment ever, the ever-present Tooru Oikawa passionately making out with Sara. That sobers you right up.

If they noticed, you wouldn’t know, because you bolt out immediately and go straight to your room. You go to the bathroom there, and as you are washing your hands, you stare at yourself in the mirror. Even though you only saw them for a second, the image of those two making out was burned in your brain.

There was something about the way he held her, pressed to the sink counter, hands on her waist, that made you feel something inside. You chalked it up to general lust and splashed cold water on your face, trying to stop whatever your brain was imagining. You left the bathroom, ready to take a break in bed.

That was, until the man in question made his appearance in your room.

“You know there are laws against trespassing right? So I don’t know what you are doing here but-“

“I came to apologize.”

Well that’s a first.

“Apologize for what exactly. You haven’t been an ass the entire night, if anything, I should congratulate you for that.” You say, tone more snarky than you intended. What were you even pissed about.

“Well I think you and I both know what you walked into. And I just wanted you to know that is not who I am, nor how I behave.”

“Well let me be the first to tell you that I don’t care who you suck face with, as long as it doesn’t happen in my presence.” What was up with you right now.

“What if it was with you? Would you care then?” He took a step towards you. You took one back.

“What are you talking about.” Why did he keep walking towards you. This room cannot be that big.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Your back was met by the wall at the end of the room, and Oikawa now stood in front on you, “Darling.”

Something about the way he looked at you, combined with the alcohol in your system and the muffled music you could hear from downstairs made your insides feel on fire. I must be going crazy, you thought.

Because as soon as that god-awful nickname left his lips, you pulled him down onto yours.

“As your big brother, it is my duty to protect you from all the evil things that are out there. You know that right?”

“That includes Oikawa right? He is such a meanie. I don’t know why you even hang out with him.”

“Well, Tooru is different. He means well, he just doesn’t express it how you are used to. Boys his age usually behave like that. But he’ll grow out of it. You’ll learn that eventually.”

“Well I don’t care. He’s mean and I hate him. I don’t care if he changes. I’ll still hate him.”

“Haha. Well I’m glad. Wouldn’t want you messing around with someone like him anyways.”

Curse the heavens. There was no denying it. Tooru Oikawa was an amazing kisser.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Grazing his tongue to yours every now and then. His hands, god his hands, his right one was holding his chin, while his left one slid up and down your waist.

Curse his perfection. This cannot be that snotty kid from all those years ago. This is a whole different person. Yes that’s it. This is not Tooru Oikawa. Because Tooru Oikawa is not capable of making you feel these things.

Like any normal person, you have to breathe, so you break the kiss. He has the audacity to whine at that. You look of to your side, because something tells you that if you look at him right now, lips swollen and pupils wide, who knows what’ll happen next.

He doesn’t like any of it.

He takes this opportunity to move his mouth south, landing on the flesh of your neck. He seems to have caught you offguard, if the sound you make at his action is anything to go by. He works his magic in the area. Biting. Kissing. Sucking. Anything that’ll draw out more of those noises. And you wish he’d stay there for eternity.

But you are you. A little selfish. And always wanting more more more. So you take him by his shirt and lead the two of you onto the bed, gently sitting him down and taking a seat directly on his lap. Now this is more.

But this also felt wrong. On so many levels. You don’t think you could ever look at your parents again if you have sex on their bed. But the desecration of their sleeping place is a small price to pay for the enormous pleasure you are sure he would bring you. Because if there’s one thing Oikawa Tooru believes in, is doing his best.

And he sure as hell will do his very best with you.

“Well well darling, look who is eager now.” He spoke with that sickeningly sweet tone he always uses. But there is something else behind it. You can’t really pinpoint it, but before you could ponder on that, he got a hold of your hips and started to drag you along his length.

Well if you are off to hell, might as well enjoy the ride.

You decided to be bold and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and onto the floor. You could sit here and wax poetic about how intimacy goes beyond physical appearance and his muscles are not important, but you are no philosopher. So you’ll say it. He’s hot. You knew the guy was ripped, having been witness to the arduous workouts he and your brother did over the summer, but this was something else.

Your brother. Ha. Imagine if he could see you right now. Actually don’t. That’s weird. But he would be dissapointed wouldn’t he. All those years being so put off by the mere presence of Tooru Oikawa and now you are sitting atop him, like some sort of worship. Oh the hypocrisy.

No you can’t think of him right now. No get out of there.

“Something the matter, princess?” Ah again with the nicknames. “I think you’ve had enough fun up here. Maybe it’s my turn to be on top don’t you think?”

You nodded. Because that is all you could muster. You feared that if you opened your mouth, all of your thoughts would slip out.

He rolled you to the side, off of him and onto the mattress. He stood up and groaned and god the way that made you feel. He kneeled on the soft surface, and leaned down to face you. Because he is the epitome of cliche, though, he makes sure to flash you the biggest smile you have ever seen. It looks different. It looks genuine. That’s new, a bit exciting even.

And before you know it, he goes back to work on your neck. He used his knee to put a slight pressure between your legs. You cannot keep your thoughts straight for long, because the next thing that comes out of your mouth is a moan of his name.

You’ve never used that tone with his name. He, of course, loves it.

“You cannot imagine how many times I have imagined of doing this.” While you are on your way to what could be a very mind-blowing orgasm, and you are incapable of coherent sentences, your hearing is very much okay. But there is no way you heard what you just heard. Because what the fuck.

“Stop.” It’s low, a bit above a whisper. He couldn’t hear you, you conclude, so he keeps at it for a bit, but when he feels the push of your hands on his chest, he pulls away immediately.

“A-are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you want to stop this?” For someone with the charm of a western hero he sure is insecure.

“What did you mean by that? What do you mean by ‘I imagined of doing this’?” Well of course you know what he meant. But what did that mean for you two? This isn’t something that should be happening. And you tell him just that. “This is not something we should even be doing.” Crap.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You might not be very fond of him, but you know him. So you know he is probably getting too much inside his head right now, so really you should have seen his next words coming.

Except this is all new and you haven’t been able to see any of this coming.

“You know what, you are right. I am sorry. I think we should leave. Actually, this is your room, so I’ll go.” You have to be imagining things, because there is no way he sounds hurt over this. Is there?

You want to ask if there’s a genuine chance he meant what he said. You really do. But you are scared of his answer. All your life he has been the kid you cannot stand, your brother’s annoying friend. But this changes everything. You have no feelings for him, that you know. But apparently there is chance he does. So what are you doing about that.

Before you can ask, you hear the door shut. In a flash, he is gone. How befitting.

And like that, once again, you are left alone. All you can hear is the boom of the speakers.

Your lifelong long was to have Tooru Oikawa out of your life. Now that you have succeeded, why do you not feel at peace.

fin.

#um hi there #i have not written in ages jesus #rip my ao3 fics i feel sad for not finishing them #haha i need help #tooruluv2kparty #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #tooru oikawa #oikawa x y/n #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( ROSERAIE. )

What you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you two apart. It was your love that would be your demise.

pairing. jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. my take on a hanahaki!au. pretty heavy on the angst. general.

tags / warnings. mention of minor character death, breaking up, soulmates, angst, unrequited love, sick character (hanahaki), bittersweet, non-idol.

wc. 3.2k

beta reader(s). my forever queens, @hobi-gif @snackhobi! you both bring such hope and joy (hahahaha) to my life!!! and of course, the loveliest angels @joheun-saram, @pars-ley, and @ditttiii for reading through and giving me excellent feedback!

author note. this is a part of @goldenclosetnetwork‘s 23 | jungkook’s birthday project. it’s my first time writing a hanahaki au so... i have a lot of headcanons for it but i’m not sure whether it all came across in the story. 😰 eep. anyway, please enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback. i would love and appreciate it! most importantly: happy birthday, kook! 💖

Your parents were a young match. Together from the tender age of eleven, they’d shared pieces of themselves readily, trading secrets in tree houses and blanket forts. Nothing was held back - a childhood crush brought to life by playful ribbing and sugar-coated snacks. Where your mother went, so did your father; she was his light as much as he was her shadow. Two halves of a destined whole, earnest and pure. Friends first.

It made perfect sense when they shared their dreams - the same one they’d had since they could remember - and it was identical: swimming in the ocean with a faceless friend, families on their respective four and three-week long road trips. They’d recognised each other immediately, felt the click the moment they stepped off the camper van. Your father had called it cooties; your mother said butterflies.

It didn’t matter that they’d never seen each other’s faces until that moment. There was the spark. Recognition. The rest was history.

Jungkook’s parents have been soulmates since the early 2000s. His father had lost his wife - his first soulmate - exactly one year prior to their meeting. He didn’t have his recurring dream until a fortnight before he met his wife. Hadn’t expected it, either. He’d been talking about his day in his local support group (it never got easier, he’d discovered) and he’d mentioned it in passing, glossing over the details of the vivid new pictures painted against his eyelids. His second wife - his second chance - had attended after losing her son. A complete chance. Serendipitous.

It wasn’t always simple, though. The heartbreaking endings came just as often as the happy.

There were people who lost their soulmates before even meeting them. They’d never know they’d lost their first one until the next dream came - if it came. If they were lucky enough.

There were message boards and dating sites. Places people stripped themselves bare and spilt their secrets to the world. Desperate for love, they detailed their dreams and hoped that their other half was somewhere out there, reading those same words.

Some, though, never found their special someone. Life came at you fast and from all directions - or it never came at all, caught somewhere across the globe in the form of someone you’d never meet. Those were the most painful circumstances, as if fate was cheating the system. Here’s a love you know you have, but that you’ll never experience. It was terribly cruel.

(But when was life ever fair?)

There were stories about those that never found their puzzle piece and how it felt, whether it hurt. Most said it was a quiet ache, something you never really noticed until you thought too closely about it, like a scar that had healed over or a loved one gone a long time. Painful in an explicable way and only - luckily, miserably - softened by ignorance.

Others spoke about it like death, missing an integral part of themselves. It played a large part of their life, shaping and changing them with each passing day. They couldn’t fully live without their person, even if they’d never met them. It was simply the principal of the matter.

You’d never quite existed in either camp. You’d always wanted to find love but you hadn’t rushed it. You figured you’d meet your happily ever after at some point. Maybe at your work - caught between the shelves or returning an overdue book - or maybe out with your dog, walking the same route you took every day. They’d show up one day. You were sure of it.

Love had a way of surrounding you.

Your best friends - because of course the two of them would fall for each other (it was nauseating) - had found each other young too, on the grounds of the elementary school you all played on. They’d been bonded since the beginning, secrets exchanged in art class and atop monkey bars. You’d cheered them on the whole way, giddy in a way you couldn’t describe. Being around it felt like standing beneath the sun, scorching heat warming you all the way to the core. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have it for yourself (yet).

They’d come. Eventually. You felt it in your bones and later, you’d learn, in your shins.

He’d come around the corner fast as a bullet, headphones in and hood pulled over his head. You’d barely have time to avoid him, poor coordination lending itself to disaster when only one of your feet would make it out of his path of destruction.

BANG!

It was something right out of a campy romance novel. Guy goes jogging, runs headlong into his dearly beloved and nearly gives her a concussion. He feels bad for her scraped knees and falls in love with her dog. His morning runs become theirs and six weeks later, over a late night bite of contrasting gelato flavours - green tea for him, bubble gum for her - they fit the pieces together.

Jungkook’s the faceless boy you’d always dreamt of, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on your thigh. He was the one with the slick black AppleWatch and long fingers. You’d never imagined he’d be covered in ink, immaculate designs running the length of his forearm all the way back and across his shoulders. In fact, you’d never thought about tattoos at all.

You get your first and only one with him - intricate red looped around your wrists and over your pinkies. Your own, very real string of fate, sealed and signed forever in rouge.

He was your Prince Charming, your best friend, your bonafide soulmate. You’d done everything together - skydiving, snorkelling, silly photos atop the Eiffel Tower. He’d adapted to your distaste of onions and took them all, meticulously picking them out of stir fries and sauces until not a single sliver remained. You’d learnt to tolerate his unbearably fast driving, white-knuckled and silent when he’d tear around corners too fast in a car too low. You fit perfectly, filling all the spaces he could never, keeping him whole even when he was broken.

Your love was of fairy tales but it was better than that too. Real. Concrete. Solid.

Until it wasn’t.

The two of you had never had any other choice.

That’s what it feels like, at least. He’d done his best - tried every little thing he could’ve possibly imagined - and it’d all amounted to nothing. He’d gone through all the motions, explored every avenue, given everything he had. It wasn’t working. This thing he wanted with every fibre of his being, that he’d hoped for his whole life, just wasn’t working. It wasn’t for him.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, and he knows you know he means it. You can read it between every line of his expression, tucked among the neatly scrawled india ink in faded red, underlining the passages you’d written together. He is sorry. He’d never meant to do this to you, nor you to him. He’d wanted to give you it all - make all your hopes and dreams come true.

Sometimes, fate just had other plans.

Because what the two of you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you apart. It was your love that would be your demise.

And he can’t bear to hurt the one he loves.

He’d tried so hard. Really, he had. You had too, more than he ever deserved.

There was simply no other option. You’d always come up short. You weren’t the one for him - not anymore - no matter how badly you wanted to be. You weren’t the one meant for him. You’d fumble for that ledge - held so impossibly high, just barely out of reach - before falling right back to where you began. The bottom. He couldn’t stand to see you there, brought to your knees once, twice, a hundred times.

He’d lose count if not for the petals.

Little ones, at first. Tiny pieces of silk you’d found on your pillowcase, outside the shower, in your water glass. They’d been unassuming - reminders you could easily ignore.

Then they’d grown, velvet softness that made it hard to breathe, that had him rubbing soothing circles over your skin, earnest vows winding like vines around your airways. Neither of you had had any idea why it was happening. You were soulmates - bound to each other and destined since the beginning. Your love wasn’t unrequited.

“We’ll figure it out,” he’d said. Sworn. “We’ll get through this.”

Your heart had broken with each promise; his had too, differently, but in perfect tandem.

(Spring still came, steadily, with a rose garden blooming within your insides and freesias in your nose.)

It wasn’t his fault. You would never blame him, even when it was his fist that broke yours, splintered it into a million pieces that cut worse than the thorns in your lungs. You knew this was just as hard for him. He’d had to watch you wither away, even as a patchwork of flowers blossomed in the spaces he’d thought he could keep safe. He hated it - could barely take it. It kept him up all night, tears in his eyes. Even when he slept - managed it, every few days - it’d prompt him awake in a cold sweat.

If he’d known then what had changed, maybe he could’ve fixed it sooner. Maybe he could’ve saved you the heartache. (Weeks later and during a coffee break with the new girl at his startup was not how he’d expected to find his answer.)

“I love you,” you tell him, an ocean of sadness. He loves you too, more than anything, more than there are stars in the sky. He loves you with every part of himself - and yet he knows now that’s what’s causing this. He loves you, but not in the right way. Every touch he offers is wrong, leaving you bruised, broken, barely breathing. It’s a disease - a venereal infection that seeps beneath skin and bone, settling within the marrow. It changes you from the inside out, realigns your DNA until you’re mutated and miserable.

The realisation is devastating: his love causes more harm than it heals.

So he stands there now, caught in the distance between you, eyes melancholy blue. His composure is frayed, crippled beneath the weight of your circumstance. He tries to memorise your face in these last moments - the colour of your hair, the shape of your stare. How you sound in the morning - voice raspy with sleep, dust caught in your eyes. The way you hold him close and the feeling of your eyelashes against his neck in the early hours.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to lose you, give you - this - up but he has to. He has to, for you. To give you a chance.

Even after having so little - only five short years - you were about to lose the rest of your lives.

You pack your bags - he helps, folding your favourite sweater (one of his, in truth) alongside your toiletries and undergarments - and you prepare to do the thing that you should never have to do. You sign papers, dot I’s and cross T’s, and put all your treasured memories away into cardboard boxes to never be touched again. You label them neatly and dress tape over edges; Band-Aids meant to hold together the deepest wounds.

You’re going under by anaesthetic and he’ll be here, where he has everything he wishes he could give you. A love he doesn’t deserve, within arms he wishes were yours.

He wonders whether he’ll still feel the pull once it’s done or whether his heart will stay there, tucked somewhere beneath the dug up roots. Whether it’ll be safe, undiscovered like a long lost treasure.

It’s best this way. He tells himself that - loops it on repeat until it’s the only thing he can think. It has to be better. For you, for you, for you.

He knows he’ll carry you with him forever. Like the air in his lungs, you’ll keep him going.

He’s snapped back to the present, to the small hallway of the home you’d built together. The traces of you are gone - all the photos hidden away, your row of shoes missing from beside his. It’s strangely bare. He knows it won’t last long. She’ll be here next week.

Your hand pushes against his cheek, thumb caressing along the seam of his bottom lip, right where the freckle sits. He’s a thief - a criminal, a sinner - when he dips his head, presses back into the warmth of your palm. This isn’t for him to take but he does anyway, eagerly and with deep regret.

“I love you.” Your voice cuts through all the white noise and agony - a beacon in the night, guiding him home.

He smiles, half-hearted and weak and not even his. Every part of him screams at him to beg you not to do it, to accept him for the man he is - lost and weak and sorry. He almost drops to his knees - fights tooth and nail against his aching limbs not to - and brings a hand to yours. The red threads looped around your wrists fit perfectly together, the ends of inked rope caught around your pinkies matching when his fingers slot between yours.

Don’t do this, he pleads, without words or hope.

“I’ll love you forever,” you tell him - promise like he had you. “You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky, Jeon Jungkook.”

He almost cracks - seams near splitting, adhesive tearing from skin - when you return his smile and he can see how hard it is. You’re already broken, all the pieces of your puzzle in terrible disarray.

You’re trying, for him.

“I’m so sorry,” he answers, because that is kinder than an I love you that doesn’t mean what you need it to. Because you deserve better - you deserve it in the same way you mean it.

So he’ll let you leave and he’ll pray this isn’t the worst decision of his whole life.

“I’ll see you.”

He hopes so. He can’t bear the idea of losing you again. He doesn’t think even she could fix him if he had to.

“Be safe,” he whispers, in a voice that stutters your stare and shatters what little resolve you have left. He sees it in your eyes - all the crystallised parts of your composure turned to ash. He wishes he could be sorry. He’s not.

“I love you,” you repeat with an air of finality.

Jungkook does the same: “I’m sorry.”

You leave, ushered into the back of your mother’s tiny sedan. She helps you with your bags and your seatbelt, rubbing your shoulder carefully when baby’s breath slips past your lips and falls all over your lap. She meets his stare when she climbs into the driver’s seat. He tries to read her expression. Understanding? Resentment? Gratitude?

The car pulls away with a groan, disappearing down the tree-lined street. Jungkook stands in the doorway for far longer than he should.

He’s moved on - settled down with the girl of his dreams. Literally.

She’s nothing like you, sarcastic and stubborn with a staunch refusal to ever come second best. She laughs maybe a bit too loud, giving him shit when he orders in another car part. She’d eat an onion raw, if she could, and takes showers hot enough to slough the skin from her bones. They have a home together and in a year’s time, he thinks he’ll propose. He’s not in any rush, though, because he knows she’s his forever.

(Knows it, even though you’d once been that same shining star to him. He has to believe it won’t happen again. Life can’t screw someone twice, right? Lightning never strikes the same spot or something like that?)

Still, he tries to forget the feeling of you.

It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. The love exists as it always has, just differently, in the palm of his hand and not the space behind his ribs. You’re his best friend and he is disgustingly, unbelievably lucky.

He’d gotten his second chance. Even if he’d once resented it, he had everything now.

You still go for your morning runs and he still changes your oil because you’d never learnt how to. His parents invite you for Sunday dinners; you’re gracious enough to decline them. You don’t see it as pity - you just don’t want to intrude. (It isn’t your place any longer.) You accept all the changes readily, without regret. You promise you’ll go by one day.

Your parents never speak to him. He doesn’t blame them. At the supermarket, on the street, in passing when he’s coming and they’re leaving - it’s radio silent.

It’s been six months and you haven’t dreamt at all. They’d hoped - prayed - that you’d find someone new after him, someone to treat you right. You don’t mind, you tell them. I’ll meet my special eventually, you say (again, again).

He wonders whether you resent them for it - their concern, perhaps a bit overbearing and offered with a heavy hand. If you do, you say nothing, playing along each time they suggest you meet another friend’s son, another junior at your father’s accounting firm. You don’t understand the sad way they watch you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles one night, seated at the neighbourhood cafe you’d frequented on your first date. Your idea, because you loved coffee and, in your old words, this was your place. The start of it all, where he’d knocked you hard onto pavement and stolen your heart in the process.

You don’t remember it now. Not in the same way.

This is somewhere you come for their great matcha lattes, where you waste a few too many evenings when you just want to get out of the house. It isn’t the place he’d told you he loved you or where you’d resolved your first fight.

(It’d been stupid. He’d forgotten to pick up groceries for your first dinner with your parents. You’d been so stressed you’d snapped at him, carrying tension into the rest of the evening. He’d apologised with an almond croissant and your favourite green drink.)

It’s like a wall has gone up, splitting your heart in two. The part of you that’d once been Jungkook’s remains out of reach, caught behind a gate neither of you have the key to.

“For what?” You quip, a milk moustache presenting itself over the rim of your mug.

Jungkook shrugs. He can’t make you understand. “Y’know,” he mumbles into his red bean mochi bun. It sticks to his teeth and coats them in soft white flour. “Just— everything.” It’s not enough, either as an explanation or an apology. It falls terribly short, barely worthy of a participation trophy.

“It’s fine.” You say it every time, clockwork in response to the same apology he always gives - out of the blue and vague.

“No, but I’m—”

You level him with a glare. It might’ve hurt once but now it settles like a scolding from a sibling. He reminds himself this is how it should be, you there and him here - two parallel lines.

The guilt never goes away.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi

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nyrandrea · 3 years

Text

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin!

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic.

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time.

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip.

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count.

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?”

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall.

He decided to push it just a little bit further.

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?”

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop.

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?”

He shrugged.

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.”

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?”

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?”

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place.

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors.

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background.

Suddenly Gregory felt very small.

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself.

He merely nodded in agreement.

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake.

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.”

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself.

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded.

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity.

“To Fazer Blast!”

xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest.

“Could you stop fidgeting?”

“But I’m practicing-”

“Stop. Fidgeting.”

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen.

“So...do I just join a team or...?”

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him.

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.”

She seemed to pause for a moment.

“You do, like, know the rules, right?”

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Uh...sure?”

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.”

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in.

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.”

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?”

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place.

In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past.

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees?

“Hey Grogery!”

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him.

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?”

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling.

“It’s Rob.”

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.”

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even?

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter.

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued.

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes.

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own.

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them.

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought.

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?”

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it.

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!”

The pimples popped.

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right?

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant...

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him.

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider.

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner.

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms.

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?”

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.”

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down.

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.”

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?”

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character?

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes?

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?”

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one.

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head.

“Huh?”

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today.

“And what?” she prodded.

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.”

“That’s because I’m not!”

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level.

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper.

“Sure...?”

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.”

“Prove yourself?”

“Yup!”

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back.

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought.

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered.

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously.

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him.

xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!”

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit.

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there.

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...”

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?”

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.”

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that.

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?”

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!”

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.”

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You lost it, didn’t you.”

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question.

“Yep.”

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away.

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?”

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?”

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.”

xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it.

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills.

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour.

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”

The crowds erupted once more.

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be-

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point.

“I say let’s rock out!”

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades.

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself.

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right?

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn.

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close.

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long.

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now.

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic.

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up.

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list.

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow.

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in.

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror.

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings!

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest.

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back.

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him.

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply.

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day.

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that.

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention.

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed.

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over.

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together.

“Uh...hey...”

It took him a moment.

“Vanny?”

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth.

“You remembered!”

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

She paused and knelt down.

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.”

This caught him by surprise.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.”

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother.

“Ooh! What’s that?”

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard.

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up.

“Oh wow! Can I see?”

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no.

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it.

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?”

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.”

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!”

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room.

“I want to but I can’t yet.”

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?”

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.”

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated.

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand.

“I know a way you can give it to him.”

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it.

“Uh...how?”

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.”

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time?

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.”

Gregory raised an eyebrow.

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“That’s cuz it’s secret!”

Okay, well that made sense.

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?”

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance.

He looked back up at Vanny.

“What about my mom?”

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?”

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Screw the rules.

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away.

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

#fnaf security breach #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanny #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #fanfiction #my writing #fnaf sb

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

Lost in Rome

hello, friends! Ever since "La Vita Dolce," I've wanted to write something else involving Italy and at least one Italian phrase, and so this lil story was born! Hope you all enjoy!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1488

Warnings: mentions of drinking, vv slight language

★

You had been walking around Rome for what felt like an eternity.

(It had only been like 30 minutes)

You knew the bar was right near Piazza Navona, but you'd only been to that part of the city one other time, having been staying south on the other side of the river in Trastevere.

You felt embarrassed knowing you were dragging your friends around the city without much of a guide, but you were too stubborn to admit that you were actually lost.

"Maybe we should've gone to Bar San Calisto again. It was cheap and close but noooo. I just had to look up a 'best bars in Rome' list" you thought as you continued to trudge on.

Not only were you lost, but you also didn't have the ability to look up where you were going, since you'd decided to go cheap and not buy an international plan or a vpn, choosing to only using wifi so you'd "stay in the moment."

That moment seemed stupid now that every marble wall and cobblestone street started to meld together in your brain as it continued to darken.

A trip to Rome was something you'd been wanting to do for years, so when your university offered up the chance to go study abroad for 4 weeks, you immediately began scrounging up the funds to go, even scoring a scholarship based on the fact that you'd taken Italian classes in school.

You'd only been there a week but thankfully had bonded with your roommate before even going, having struck up a conversation at the informational meeting the semester before. Since then, you had also bonded with those in the room next door, them sticking to you as their translator.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore, stopping.

"Okay, look, guys. I'm really sorry but I literally have no idea where we are," you admitted, feeling guilty. Everyone else smiled.

"That's okay! This place is beautiful! I'm sure we'll find it eventually," your roommate, Olivia, said.

"Yeah. Didn't you say it was at Piazza Navona?" Aaron, one of your neighbors, asked. You nodded. "Well as long as we can find that, then we're basically there!"

After some wandering, your group found itself in the square in front of the Pantheon, which was a step in the right direction, but you were determined to actually find the right place.

There was a hotel right there, so you quickly stepped in to ask the desk worker to point you towards the Piazza, who explained that it was only a couple streets East of where you were.

Relieved, you and your friends quickly walked that way, breathing out a collective sigh when you walked into the giant open square, looking around at the familiar structures from the second day of class when you'd toured the area.

"Sooo... where's this bar?" Aaron's roommate Joseph asked.

You all circled the square from the inside and out a couple times, not seeing any signs with the name "Bar del Fico Roma" anywhere.

Dread started to wash over you as you realized the website must not have meant the bar was actually on the square, but was somewhere nearby. You felt stupid for not screenshotting the website page or, you know, actually looking it up first.

"Fine, that's it! I'm marching up to the next person I see and asking where this darn place is. We've made it this far!" you said, exasperated.

The first thing that caught your eye was a group of people who looked close to your age, talking in a small group. They were pretty well dressed, typical of a young Italian, so you immediately started over towards them, expecting them to be the most helpful in giving directions.

"Wait, y/n!" Olivia protested, but you ignored her, walking between a shorter boy and taller girl.

You couldn't help but sigh out the words as you started speaking, placing a light hand on the boy's arm.

“Scusa, potresti dirme dov’è la-" "Excuse me, could you tell me where the-"

"Sorry! I don't speak Italian!" the boy answered in a British accent, turning to face you with hands in surrender.

You both seemed taken aback when your eyes met.

Tom Holland?

"Um, oh what was the word for sorry in Italian again?" the actor in front of you asked, looking to one of his many Spider-man costars around you. Before one could answer, you blurted out one for him.

"It's 'mi dispiace' or 'perdonami,' depending on how you want to say it," you started, realizing how stupid you probably sounded to be teaching a world famous actor Italian words after accidentally infiltrating his conversation.

However, Tom was more shocked by your American accent. Your eyes still widened as you realized what was actually going on.

"Oh my gosh, what am I saying, um. I- I'm so sorry. We're just trying to find this bar and got lost and-"

"Which bar?" he asked in return. You furrowed your brows and looked at him funny, wondering why he would care. He seemed to take notice. "It's just that, we're also headed to a bar and can't seem to find it, either."

You chuckled at the situation, baffled.

"Well, um, it's called 'Bar del Fico Roma.'"

Tom's eyes widened.

"Hey, that's where we're headed!" Jacob Batalon cut in, making you look at him and the rest of the actors in surprise. You could see your own friends shock from your peripheral.

"No way! Really?" Joseph said for you. The group nodded.

"I just got it pulled up on maps," Zendaya said, holding up her phone. Realization suddenly hit that she of all people was the one who you had been standing next to this whole time.

You and your friends all gasped incredulously, amazed at your luck after spending all that time lost.

"If you want, we can show you the way," Tom offered.

"What? No, no we couldn't impose like that," you began, knowing your friends were probably internally screaming at you.

"Oh come on," Tom responded. "We're all going to the same place anyways, not like we won't see you there. It's barely a five minute's walk."

"Seriously, y/n. Do you really want to go around asking more locals for help when we've got it right here?" Olivia asked, raising a good point.

"Alright, fine," you started, rolling your eyes. You turned back to Tom. "You know what they say, 'when in Rome.' Seriously, thank you. All of you. You're definitely saving our asses."

He chuckled as Zendaya began leading the way. Though the sun had set, lights throughout the roads and emanating from various shops lit the way.

Without meaning to, you fell into step with Tom, easily matching his gait as you crossed through the bustling piazza.

"So what brings you to Italy?" He asked. "You don't quite sound like a local."

"We're studying abroad through our university. Unfortunately for me, these goons keep following me 'cause I speak the language," you joked, causing Olivia to slap the back of her hand to your shoulder.

"Ah, I see. I was definitely confused when you went from Italian to American in an instant. Y/n, was it?"

"Yes! Yeah, that's me. And you're obviously Tom Holland."

"You better remember that later, he tends to forget his own name after a few drinks," Zendaya called back to you, causing the group to laugh.

"Hey! That was one time!" Tom defended himself. "Not my fault I was going through a breakup!"

He turned back to you.

"Don't listen to them. I'm quite fun to drink with. You should see for yourself."

"Is that some sort of offer..?" you questioned playfully, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"If everyone's alright with it, I figured you all would join us at the lounge. I'm more than happy to pay for a round or two," he winked.

The group was approaching the bar, and any anxiety you'd had about finding it finally quelled when you could see people outside laughing and drinking as they enjoyed the summer night.

"Hmm... I don't know..." you sing-songed, looking up at the sky.

"Dude are you crazy?" Aaron exclaimed, causing the others to argue in agreement with him.

"Okay, okay. Of course we would be happy to join you for a drink. Thank you."

Both groups cheered in approval.

"The only thing I ask in return is a little lesson in Italian and, if all goes well, a pretty lady's number at the end of the night," he said smoothly, giving you a look.

The others looked between you with wide eyes, surprised at his open flirting. You couldn't help but smile and blush before replying.

"I think that's something I can manage. Now come on, your first lesson will be in ordering drinks," you said, grabbing his hand to lead him in what was about to be the best night of his life.

And yours.

★

A/N: Okay fun fact I thought up this concept immediately after publishing La Vita Dolce and just... never wrote it? The entire work was actually written around the one Italian phrase I used haha.

Anyways... Hope you all enjoyed as per usual and feel free to hmu anytime about anything :)

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh

#lost in rome #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland drabble #tom holland spiderman

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faunrasthewinterelf · 4 years

Text

Calm After the Storm Pt.2

And So it Begins

I’m actually excited for this? like I’m so nervous, but here we go! here's roughly 4047 words that ive written and agonized over for you Maribat lovers!

please let me know what you guys think!

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Marinette Cheng meets Richard (Dick) Grayson at the start of the tour of Wayne Enterprises. She’s outside, leaning against the tall form of Chloe Bourgeois, her best friend who had shot up like a damn weed in the past year, and trying her best to stay awake. While everyone else in the class had gotten to adjust to the time zone change, Marinette and Madame Bustier had gone over to the Martha Wayne Foundation building to settle the scheduling and award intricacies. She had also seen a photo of her biological paternal grandparents for the first time, which had been nice.

But today. Today was tiring and it wasn’t even 8:30 yet. It was cold, which isn't helping her attempts at staying awake, even though she had on a newer, thicker outfit, bundled up tight to ward off the cold that was seeping into her bones and irritating her side. Damn Ladybug Effects

Marinette was trying her hardest to leech the warmth from Chloe while the two waited for Lila ‘Oh, my ankle hurts, I must have twisted it!’ Rossi to limp her way off the bus. The rest of the class and Madame Bustier were all behind the liar. Which meant Marinette was in the cold, and THAT was commonly known as a bad idea at this point. Chloe was huffing as she kept an arm wrapped around Marinette’s looking ready to murder Lila. Listening to the Italian girls lies was a staple for their lives at this point, and Marinette couldn't help a sarcastic,

“And so it begins.”

Chloe snorted at that, wrapping her arm around her tiny friend’s shoulders, rubbing her back, before the blonde snarled at another shiver from Marinette, and just dragged the poor girl inside to wait.

Getting inside is a blessing, and as the warmth hits Marinette, she lifts her face away from where it was squished against Chloe’s arm to keep her nose warm.

Almost immediately, Marinette is digging through her bag for her small sketchbook to start jotting down ideas from the lobby alone. Chloe, on the other hand, starts fishing out the NDA’s the class had signed that morning from Marinette’s bag, and begins flipping through them to make sure that everyone’s was accounted for. The two girls settle into the couches by the entrance waiting for the rest of the class.

After a couple minutes, Lila walks through the door, (wow, her ankle is already better!), and smiles around at her surroundings, looking as if she just walked into a loved home rather than a building she’s never been to. Her eyes light up as she smirks, before turning to her loyal followers friends, and though Chloe and Marinette can’t hear what she’s saying, they can imagine.

Madame Bustier frowns at the two girls on the seats to the side as she approaches the front desk, but is quickly distracted by the secretary as the two begin discussing the tour, and its itinerary. Lila and her group have navigated to the other side of the lobby, away from Marinette and her friends, thankfully, but are talking loudly, interrupting people as they enter the building. From the corner of her eye, Marinette can practically see Adrien frowning in hers and Chloe's direction, can practically feel his disapproval.

Just as she is finishing shading in a particularly pretty flower in a planter, one of the elevators to her right dings. A rather tall man steps out, straightening his tie, a clipboard tucked under his arm. He looks to be roughly 6’2 and is dressed in a white button down tucked into plain black slacks, with a nice pair of black shoes. He glances over at their loud wayward class before spotting Madame Bustier and heading over to the secretaries desk to join her. Marinette nudged her friend, who looked up from the NDA’s, adjusting the Miraculous on her head as she looked up.

“Looks like the tour is starting soon,” the bluenette is already standing, slipping her coat off to drape over her bag. Chloe eyes their classmates, as if debating whether or not they actually would be starting soon and if it was worth standing up, before sighing and giving in, getting to her feet.

“Then let’s go give Madame Bustier her paperwork, she seems a bit frazzled about it missing.” and indeed she did. Their red headed teacher was shifting through her bag at a frantic rate, clearly worried about something. Marinette shook her head. Madame Bustier had asked Marinette to collect the files for her, she should remember that her class representative had them. The teacher had been foisting a lot of responsibility on Marinette this trip. Already, Chloe had to step in and help her unpack her bags after Madame Bustier had sent Marinette to sort out the rooms of the hotel, and then dragged her to the MWF Building as soon as the small class rep had handed out the room keys to everyone else, and had helped with the NDA’s earlier that morning.

Marinette took the file folder from Chloe as they walked over and she waited patiently beside her panicking teacher for a moment, before clearing her throat to catch Madame Bustier’s attention, holding out the folder for her to take.

“Oh, Marinette, thank you, I thought I had these with me!” Madame Bustier then spun around, handing over the folder, without checking inside, to the gentleman who had to be their tour guide. “Here you are Mr. Grayson, all the NDA’s, as requested! I must have left them on the table this morning!” she gave a charming smile before turning again, and hurrying over to the rest of her class to get everyone else's attention, leaving Chloe and Marinette with the tour guide.

As their teachers' voice rang out over her classmates, Marinette and Chloe shared a look between them. Chloe sighed as she followed after their teacher, and Marinette turned to the man beside her.

“Bonjour, my name is Marinette Cheng, are you the tour guide for today Monsieur…?” she smiled as she held out her hand which was quickly enveloped by his much bigger one,

“Richard Grayson Ms. Cheng! A pleasure to meet you, you’re the one who wrote the winning essay for the Martha Wayne Foundation right? Me and my family all read it! And yes, I am the tour guide today, we’re just waiting on your visitor badges, and then we’ll be on our way!” Richard’s smile was nearly overwhelming, the amount of words coming from him more so, but that wasn’t what had caused Marinette to freeze.

She hadn’t looked at any photos of the Wayne family since she heard about Cassandra Cain-Wayne’s adoption. Sure, she knew what they looked like, but that had been several years ago. Marinette hadn’t anticipated meeting her oldest adopted sibling so soon.

It was weird to talk with her brother Richard, without him knowing they were technically siblings. She shook the feelings off quickly, (years of an emotional terrorist did wonders for emotional control apparently) and allowed her smile to grow wider.

“Thank you Mr. Grayson! I hadn’t had much to do at the time, and the MWF scholarship to GU was worth the late nights! I’m flattered that you and your family liked it so much.” a box full of visitor IDs and lanyards were placed in front of them, and Marinette shot the receptionist, Ms. Keanes, a quick “Thank you!” before carrying them over to the class.

Chloe looked about ready for a nap as she watched over her class, all of them whispering to each other as Madame Bustier went over rules for the Tour. The red head seemed to be willfully ignorant of her class not listening as she spoke, and just smiled at Mr. Grayson as he and Marinette approached. Marinette shook her head as she began handing out the IDs, quick to snag hers and Chloe’s first, slipping both around her neck for the time being as Mr. Grayson began speaking.

She had to admit, her brother Richard seemed determined to give her class the best tour he could. He had notes and anecdotes on that clipboard of his, and he knew how to use them to get attention. Unfortunately, he just wasn’t as captivating as Lila, who had begun to spin another tale of ‘Oh, yes, I spent so much time in Gotham when i was younger that I’m practically a Gothamite! There’s this amazing restaurant nearby, we should go there for dinner tonight!’

By the time lunch rolled around and Richard had gotten the class into the cafeteria, he seemed to have lost most of his determination. Most of the class pushed past him, not even listening to his explanation about the Cafeteria, and his shoulders slumped as he stared after them. Marinette, who had been taking notes about as much as she could, felt a bit guilty for how he was being treated. Chloe had pulled out her tablet about a half hour into the tour and began working on MDC Business, and while Marinette knew Chloe had been listening, she had been focused on her work.

“Mr. Grayson? I’m sorry for my class’s behavior, they’re just, excited, to be in Gotham and haven’t quite gotten it out of their systems yet.” Marinette reached out to tap him on the arm as she spoke, gently prodding him until he looked at her. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I enjoyed the tour, there’s so much to learn, and I can’t wait to go to other floors after lunch! I’ve already jotted down several ideas in my sketchbook, so thank you!”

Richard smiled at her in thanks, eyes brightening a bit as he nodded at her, before fishing out his phone and turning away.

Marinette quickly linked arms with Chloe before walking into the large room, as she only needed space for her and Chloe, who had saved whatever proposal she had been going over as they searched. Once they found a good spot they went and joined the line for food. A few tables down from their spot, the class, who were back to loudly talking to each other and squealing about Lila’s ‘childhood sweetheart, I might be able to see him again! he took me to that restaurant I mentioned earlier as a date actually!’, and were all ignoring the looks that WE employee’s were shooting at them. Madame Bustier all but collapsed on a table for herself, and put in earbuds as she ate.

Marinette shook her head as she and Chloe walked past, getting into line for the small buffet style lunch available. Other employee’s were also entering the room, and while they did have an hour and half lunch, Marinette didn't want to wait too long and have to eat quickly. By the time the girls got their food of choice and sat down at the table they had spotted earlier, the line was quite long, and the rest of the class were at the end of it. They had a long wait.

Lunch passed in quiet, and for the most part she and Chloe just worked. Marinette on a commission Uncle Jagged had requested, one inspired by his hometown, and Chloe back to whatever she had been working on before. It was only interrupted by Mr. Richard Grayson asking to sit with them. He was picking at his food more than eating it, staring with furrowed brows at Madame Bustier and the rowdy class (It was an hour in and most of them had only just gotten food)

“Madame Bustier is of the opinion that they’ll settle down after today.” Her voice seemed to almost startle Richard, but he just turned to look at her, more confused as he asked,

“What? But, your class-”

“Bustier is next to useless when it comes to interventions. She probably won’t do anything about their behavior for a couple more days.” Chloe didn’t even look up from her work as she interrupted Richard, her scorn clear.

“Chloe”

“What, M? It’s true and you know it! She’s treating this more like a vacation than a class trip.” This time the blonde glances over at the teacher, who still had her earbuds in. “She’s not even watching her class! She hasn’t looked up from her Audio Book since she sat down, Mari. I know we're all legal adults and graduated at this point, but it's still a school trip, not a celebration over Hawkmoth’s defeat! We're in one of the most dangerous cities in America, the least she could do is check that all her students are behaving.”

Before Marinette could respond, Richard cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him before he asking,

“Who’s Hawkmoth? What do you mean ‘celebrate his defeat?’ That makes him sound like a supervillain.”

Marinette and Chloe look at each other, before Marinette turns back to her brother the tour guide.

“That’s because he was Mr. Grayson. How didn't you know about him? He terrorized Paris for four years? Mayura, his accomplice helped for roughly three”

Marinette knew it was due to a country wide media blackout and the French Government working with Paris’s governing body to suppress the news further to not put a damper on tourism, but surely something must have gotten out? After the JLE had decided to leave Hawkmoth to Ladybug and her team, she had figured they would at least issue a warning. Chloe chimes in with a tired voice, shoulders lowered and eyes blank,

“He would take control of someone and transform them into a monster using their own negative emotion, and in return, all they had to do was get the Ladybug’s earrings and the Black Cat’s ring. He did it by sending an Akuma, which is a corrupted butterfly, by the way, and they would possess an Item on the victim’s person. Ladybug and Chat Noir, and the others, had to locate and destroy the akumatized object so that Ladybug could purify it. There were normally 4 or 5 of them a week, though they got more frequent and powerful the month he was caught.”

“But, Thats- We would have known about it!” Richard seemed horrified, “The amount of damage that would have happened? Surely something would have gotten out!”

Marinette shook her head. “That's the thing Mr. Grayson, part of Ladybug’s powers, was that she could summon something she needed for the fight. When it was over, she could use her ‘Lucky Charm’ as it's called, to reset all the damage done by the akuma. The buildings got fixed, injuries healed, and many people who were killed were brought back.” She shared a small smile with Chloe,

“Hawkmoth was defeated earlier this year, just after school started. The Miracle Court took back his and his accomplices Miraculous, and both were placed into custody. Last I’d heard, Gabriel Agreste, Hawkmoth was given several life sentences, and Nathalie Sanceour, Mayura was in a high security medical facility for the damage her illness had done. The Court is staying active in Paris for the remainder of the year, but after, the JLE has asked them to either step down or leave Europe. They haven’t announced what they're going to do yet after the year is over.”

Before he could question the girls further, looking rather sour at something, Chloe’s phone alarm went off, meaning they had 10 minutes to clean up. Marinette quickly fished her phone out of her bag, and opened up the BugOut blog. Tilting her screen so Richard could see, she explained as best she could about it as Chloe cleaned up the table.

“This is the official Blog that was dedicated to Ladybug and her efforts. There's another one called the Ladyblog, but it's not the best anymore. Ladybug endorsed that blog for it’s professionalism and writing. It’s not active much anymore, but it’s got a good archive of everything, if you’re curious.”

He had opened his mouth to ask more questions, but then he froze. Marinette had flipped to a photo that showed a comparison of the Teams, and his eyes zeroed in on it. One shot of the current Court of Miracles, Ladybug, Testudo, Byakko, and Cheval Joli, one shot from two years ago with Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rogue, Carapace, and Queen Bee, and finally, one shot from the very beginning, of Ladybug and Chat Noir stood awkwardly in frame.

Marinette shook her head,

“Ladybug and Chat Noir were the first, they were somewhere around 13 or 14 when they started.”

Marinette left him after that. She had garbage to sort out and a plate to return. The two girls waited at the same entrance they came in from, seated on the couches by the door, watching as the class got up at 3:00 on the dot, and left their plates stacked on top of the garbage cans like they were in a fast food place, not a famous Enterprises cafeteria. Madame Bustier and Mr. Grayson joined them shortly after, Mr. Grayson rubbing at his forehead as he walked up.

The second half of the Tour seemed to stretch on for a while. Marinette’s side was beginning to go taught, and she could already tell that a massage and some painkillers would be involved in tonight's bedtime routine. She almost regrets leaving Tikki in their hotel room, the little goddess always healed her in little bursts to help with the pain, but Tikki had been just as tired as Marinette this morning, and the cold was affecting the little Ladybug Kwami harder, so she had left Tikki bundled up near the heater for the day. Besides, Chloe had hers with her, and Akuma’s weren’t a thing they had to worry about. Marinette really hadn’t seen the harm in letting Tikki rest for the day.

While Mr. Grayson (Please, Ms. Cheng, just call me Dick, I promise it’s my nickname, and I honestly prefer it) was watching the rest of her class, he had given up trying to keep their attention, and was basically just speaking directly to Chloe and Marinette, both of whom were paying attention now. The Business and Legal areas were something of great interest to the girls, as they were working together to maintain MDC, Chloe with the business side, and Marinette with the creative side/designing. The class behind the two girls, still wrapped in their own little world, completely missed the looks they were still getting from employees as they passed by workstations and offices.

The only time Madame Bustier intervened was when Alya had a particularly loud outburst, all but shouting out a loud “WHAT?? GIRL YOUR DATING DAMI-” before getting cut off by a sharp “Alya!” from the teacher.

But Marinette hadn’t been paying attention to Lila, her side had escalated from tight to aching, and was now rubbing at her side as she walked, her notebook away and her arm linked with Chloe’s as she wrote, trying to focus more on what Dick was saying rather than the pain.

Of course, with how this bit of the tour was going, Dick had noticed. During a particularly ‘exciting’ bit in whatever lie Lila was spewing, he quietly approached the girls.

“Hey, what’s up Marinette, (then in that case, please, call me Marinette “or Mari” Or Mari, thank you Chloe) are you alright?”

It was startling, to be honest. Beyond Chloe, no one really ever noticed when she was in pain. It took her a second to respond.

“Yes, it’s alright, just, an old wound. It gets bad when it’s cold, and I’ve been walking a lot today.”

His worried eyes scanned over her, seeing how tense she was and how her hand didn’t stop doing small circular motions around the left side of her waist, just below her ribs, He was frowning, and his body screamed concern.

“Do you need a break? There’s a break area on this floor.” His voice was soft as he spoke, but, even though she was tired, getting a break or special treatment now would mean dealing with Lila and Alya later, even if would help with the pain.

“I’m alright, besides, there's barely an hour left, and then we're getting on a bus back to the hotel, I’ll be fine,” Marinette smiled, (was this what its like to have a sibling?)

“And I already made her take some of the Advil she carries with her” comes from the tall blonde next to her. Dick looks at them both like her wants to argue, eyes tight, before he nods.

“If you’re sure.”

Apparently, they weren’t taking a bus back to the hotel. Lila had convinced Madame Bustier to cancel the ride, and let them go to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Which meant the class would be walking back after. Marinette closed her eyes, rubbing at her side firmly as she listened to Lila, Chloe beside her, hip jutted out and arms crossed.

“My Damiboo took me there for a dinner date, it’s where he confessed! Oh it was so romantic, I would love to go eat there again!” her simpering was painful, she was even holding her hand to her chest like she was going to faint, but her other arm was entwined around Adrien’s, and her current boyfriend looked more bored than anything as she described her ‘childhood sweetheart’ As usual, the class was eating it up.

“Oh, Lila! That sounds so romantic!” Rose had her head against Juleka’s shoulder, a dopey grin on her face as she imagined the two on a romantic dinner date.

Alya had turned to Nino with a quirked eyebrow and a sly smile, “Why haven’t you done that to me huh?” before turning towards Madame Bustier.

“Please, may we eat there? It’d make Lila so loved, and she says the food is great! Who better to show us the good places than an honorary Gothamite?” Madame Bustier had already been nodding, happy to appease her class.

“Of course we can, It's not a far walk from here at all!” The class excitedly began chatting, but before they could all set out, Chloe finally intervened.

“Madame Bustier, we’re not supposed to eat out on Mondays, shouldn’t we head back to the hotel?” her words were met with silence, and she was quiet a moment, before continuing,

“Besides, Marinette’s side is beginning to hurt, she nee-”

A loud snort comes from Alya, who rolls her eyes. She looks Marinette up and down, scowling before biting out,

“Please, like she needs, anything! I can’t believe you think she was actually hurt! Everyone knows that Marinette's a bully Chloe, she’s just jealous of Lila, and lying for attention.”

It had been 2 years since she and Alya had been friends, but it still hurt when her old best friend said things like that. When Lila had threatened to take all her friends, Marinette hadn’t believed her. But here she was, all her friends gone, and the only reason she had Chloe at all is because they hadn’t been friends until Lila had everyone else on her side. Marinette and Chloe had sat together at the back of the class, and they’re neutral ‘ill watch your stuff if you watch mine’ had eventually become ‘well now I'd die for you.’ It was nice, having a friend in class again.

Lila, never one to miss a chance, hiccupped loudly before wrapping her arms around herself.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause trouble, I jus-just wanted to b-be reminded of my Damiboo! I Haven’t-t see-en him in so long!” By the end of it, she had full blown sobs going, and the class closed ranks around her, comforting her while glaring at Chloe and Marinette. Adrien was frowning at Marinette again, eyes almost furious as he glared, and Madame Bustier just sighed.

“Marinette, please, can’t you see Lila needs this? Can’t you take one of your Advil so that we can help Lila? Remember, All the Marinettes of the world?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head, before agreeing. Chloe beside her started to protest again, but stopped when Mari put a hand on her shoulder.

“Alright Madame Bustier.”

“Thank you girls! Alright, Lila!” Madame Bustier clapped her hands a couple times, catching the classes attention,

“We're going to the restaurant!, Lila, why don’t you lead the way? I’m sure it’s lovely!”

Marinette was sure it was going to be hell.

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PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THE TAG LIST DIDN’T WORK!

Now, anyone wanna guess what Miraculous Chloe has? I tried to give hints! or does anyone want to try guessing who Testudo, Cheval Joli, and Byakko are? both have already been Miraculous holders, and the names will be expanded on!

If any one has any questions I’ll elaborate with as little spoilers as possible, Thank you all so much for your encouraging words and kind comments!

TAGLIST: @ aestheticnpoetic @ kitsunebell @ superbwhispersconnoisseur @ thewitchwhowaited @ junarvion @ liawinchester67 @ woe-is-me0 @ dorkus-minimus @ i-am-on-wattpad-2 @ atramentias @ togetherwekill @ ramos123 @ anjuschiffer @ thecc11andme @ poodapup @ mochegato @too0bsessedformyowngood

#Calm After the Storm #part 2 guys #oof #Maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #batfam #Richard Grayson #omg im so excited #please expec sporadic updates tho

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penaltbox · 4 years

Text

the hills - jack hughes

warnings: mentions of cheating, drug use in sports, and using unhealthy coping mechanisms. this really isn’t any representation of how i think he is, he’s just the guy i picked for this idea.

based on the hills by the weeknd. if you like it send some feedback or reblog :)))

word count: 4.4k

You can’t help but laugh at the stupid joke your friend just made at your expense about Eric always being gone for work. You’re ready to send a smart remark her way but your phone lights up and the notification has you freezing.

Jack.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it. His name is purposefully kept simple in your phone to try and pass him off as unimportant, like a forgotten group project member from a class you were well over with, but he was so much more than that.

Lexie clears her throat quietly and nods down at the phone. She was all too aware of who Jack was and what him texting you meant. Luckily your other friends had no clue and they hadn’t caught on to why you’d gone quiet suddenly. You bite your lip and look back at them, trying to put yourself back into the conversation, but you had lost them while you were in your own little world.

Your phone buzzes again and you sigh, picking it up. You knew if he was sending multiple texts that it was only a matter of time before he’d show up at your place and you didn’t really want to explain to your friends why this boy was suddenly on your doorstep.

‘Busy tonight?’

‘I can be over in 20’

You glance up at Lexie and find her already watching you so you turn the phone towards her and she nods. Jack usually didn’t take no for an answer and you were sure tonight was no different.

“Ladies, why don’t we grab an Uber and head to that new restaurant that just opened? I heard they have some awesome mixed drinks,” Lexie bluffs, buying you a way out so he could come over.

They all agree quickly, but you decline, saying you’re not feeling too well all of a sudden. Your friends laugh, making up reasons why you want out of what was supposed to be a long awaited girls’ night. None of them are right though and it’s only because Lexie won’t weigh in with the truth, thank God.

You entertain everyone a little longer, walking them to the door when the car pulls up outside. They all file in, but Lexie hangs back for a second. She gives you a hug goodbye but holds you for an extra second.

“You better figure out who you want more because you know Eric will end up finding out about him eventually,” she mumbles, “and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You sigh because you know she’s right. Jack was only supposed to ever be a one night stand, but he’d turned into a 5 month ordeal at this point. You give her a tight smile as she joins the rest of the girls and you wave them off.

Heading back inside, you put all the glasses near the kitchen sink, making a mental note about emptying the dishwasher later. You pick your phone up to check and see where Jack was but a knock on your door answers it for you. With a deep breath you head over, never quite ready for all the feelings that came with seeing him. He had some sort of hold on you that you could never explain but you couldn’t get enough of it.

You swing the door open, exchanging your nerves for a smirk as you see the slightly younger boy on the doorstep, “hey you. Come in.”

Jack does exactly that, his arm coming around your waist as he leans down to kiss you hard. You can’t help but grab onto him, arms finding their way around his shoulders as he picks you up suddenly. You hear him slam the door behind you two as he carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the island but staying between your legs.

“Hi,” he finally says once he lets you pull back a bit. He’s got a smile on his face that makes your heart stutter. He was always a little cocky and a whole lot clingy when he was with you but you loved the combination.

You fake pout, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “you interrupted girls’ night, Jack.”

“Aww, I did?” He asks, one hand already slipping under your shirt but only to rest on your hip, “does that mean you and I can’t have a drink first?”

“House is mine all weekend,” you answer his unasked question, nodding towards the liquor cupboard behind him.

His eyes light up a little at your admission and he slowly untangles himself from you, though you know it won’t last long. If you had to guess, you figured Jack’s love language was physical touch with the way he hardly ever let you go when you two were together.

He starts to rifle through the shelves, pulling your usual bottle of wine down for you and you force yourself not to think about how he was starting to become comfortable and familiar with your world. He grabs a bottle of something stronger for himself and you know you’ll have to refill whatever he takes.

With a glass poured for both of you, Jack turns around and hands you yours. He raises his glass up for a toast and you laugh lightly.

“What’s the toast for, Hughes? You sign a big contract or something that I don’t know about?” You tease, but raise yours as well.

“No,” he says, blushing a little at your tone, “just a toast. To us, I guess.”

Us. It’s a phrase that shouldn’t exist. There should be no ‘you and Jack’ at all but there definitely is and you didn’t think you were strong enough to shut that down any time soon. Truth be told, you didn’t want to. You’d rather date Jack but he’d made it clear he wasn’t in the right place for commitment yet in life.

You ignore the issues, like you usually did, and clink your glass with his, “to us then. And all the fun that comes with it.”

Jack takes a drink of his own mixture and you’re almost shocked at the amount he takes down. You reach out and put a hand on his arm.

“Whoa there. We’re in no rush here tonight,” you remind him, “are you okay?”

“Of course I am. I’m here with you.”

The statement has you blushing now and you set your glass down so you can pull him closer. You liked the way you were basically the same height when you sat on the island. It made things a lot easier and gave you the chance to make a move rather than leaving the control up to him.

“You are here. How’s hockey been?” You ask, like you hadn’t watched every game this season so far.

Jack shrugs, stepping in close again as he finishes his drink and sets the glass over with yours, “it’s okay. I’m more interested in you right now though. Maybe tonight we can update that amazing Polaroid I keep in my wallet.”

Your face feels hot when you remember the picture he’d taken of you one night and tucked away for himself. You knew where it was in his wallet and you knew the wear marks had gotten bad over his last few road trips.

Yeah, you two were the definition of fucked up, if you had to weigh in on it.

“I bet you’d like that, huh?” You ask, grabbing his shirt and tugging him the rest of the way towards you.

It’s easy to kiss Jack, to let yourself get lost in him. You weren’t sure when you realized it, but kissing him was easy and fun. You found yourself wanting to do it all the time, so when you did have him all to yourself you let it happen as much as possible. He knew exactly how to kiss you, exactly when to slide his tongue into your mouth, and where to trail the kisses when he wanted to make you shiver under his touch.

He seems to be moving faster than usual, his kisses shortening as he moves his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You tug on his hair a little, trying to get him to look at you, but he seems to ignore it. You press a hand to his chest and try to push him back.

“Jack,” you say firmly, finally getting him to settle down and look at you, “what’s your hurry today? Can’t we just enjoy this?”

He rolls his eyes but pulls you closer to the edge of the counter, “why slow down? You haven’t seen me in a week. Aren’t you ready to go?”

You sigh, looking over his features, and see how exhausted he looks. It’s always just a hookup to him and you have to remind yourself of that. Just because you started catching feelings didn’t mean that he did. You ignore it though, and nod at his last question.

“Can we go upstairs then?” He asks, hands slipping under your shirt as he lets his fingers dance lightly up your sides.

You shiver a little and his smirk grows, but you mumble, “hmm, I guess we could.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he’s tugging you off the counter and nudging you towards the stairs. You reach back without looking and his hand grips yours almost instantly. You didn’t even have to look to know he was close and sometimes it scared you how easily you could find each other.

You push open the door to the guest bedroom, never daring to take your activities into your actual bedroom, and you turn around to find Jack watching you intently. You want the upper hand this time though, so you nod your head at the bed.

“Your turn for some attention. Come here,” you say, trying to sound as nice as you could, but you know it sounds coy.

Jack obliges you happily though and crowds your personal space, his back towards the bed. You reach up to push him back, hands finding his sides and pressing into him. The quick wince from him as he grabs your right hand scares you and you back up suddenly.

“Jack? What’s wrong?” You ask, your eyes looking him up and down as you try to figure out what just happened. You realize suddenly that it’s what's under his shirt that made him react so quickly.

You reach for the hem of his shirt and tug it up above his stomach, finding a bruise blooming above his left hip. It’s all different colors and you know he got it from a game. You reach out, just barely grazing your fingers against his skin.

“Don’t,” he says through gritted teeth as he grabs your hand, “it’s fine.”

“Fine? That doesn’t look fine at all,” you scoff.

“I handled it,” he says and you instantly know what he means.

He’d gotten them before and at first you had no clue what they were. Toradol shots were still given out like candy in the league and Jack had gotten them before he even realized what they were. He started getting them pretty often and last he’d told you, he was going to try to get an alternative means of pain relief.

“I thought you were done with those. How long ago did you get this one?” You ask, still not taking your eyes off the bruise.

“Three hours ago,” he whispers and your gaze immediately shoots up to his face.

“Three hours?” You ask, fighting to keep your voice lower, “you used to last six hours on those. Are you taking them that often?”

“Don’t fucking worry about me!” He snarls, pushing his shirt back down, “You don’t get to judge me either. Do you forget whose house we’re in? I’m not the one cheating on someone here.”

You swallow hard and look away from him. There was no denying that comment stung a lot and your fight or flight had turned to the latter. You know Jack had a tendency to get mean when he got backed into a corner about something he didn’t want to talk about but you always seemed to push it just a bit too far with him. You were left to regret it instantly when he bit back.

“Can we just do what we normally do? I don’t want to fight with you,” you ask, much quieter now than a few moments ago.

He sighs and nods, reaching for your hand before he leans in to kiss you. You let him do what he always really came for and offer yourself up in the only way you knew how to be there for him. He wasn’t good at letting you in normally, but sleeping with him was different. He was all about actions rather than words.

He always took his time when it came to sex. He’d undress you first, giving you attention until you’re begging, and then the egotistical part of him would ensure that you always got off. It was bragging rights for him basically but those ones at least benefited you as well.

What never failed to surprise you was that he always let you hold him after. It’s like he needed it, but couldn’t verbalize it, so when he rolls onto his side and pulls you close you let your lips find his forehead as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You know that’s when you get the real Jack. The one he’s too afraid to show you during the daylight. You’re not sure if it’s the painkillers finally kicking in or the alcohol hitting him just right after he’d gotten off, but he’s so much more affectionate and human in those moments.

“I swear I’m gonna talk to doc about getting pain treatment a different way,” he mumbles, his arm that’s wrapped around you tightening a little as he says it.

You lean back to look at him and push his hair out of his eyes, “that sounds like a good idea. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you out.”

A smile flashes across his face but it’s gone just as quickly as it showed. He sits up then and glances back at you, a look on his face that you can’t quite figure out.

“I need to go,” he says, swinging his legs off the bed and starting to pull his clothes back on.

You sit up, holding the blanket tight around you as you watch him. You wished you could say something or ask him to stay even, but you knew better. As much as you hated seeing him leave, there was really no other option. You have to take a deep breath to make sure your feelings don’t come flying out of your mouth before it’s too late to stop them.

Jack pulls his shirt back on and turns back towards you, kneeling on the bed to lean over and give you a few quick kisses before heading for the bedroom door.

He grabs the handle and hesitates, looking over his shoulder with the same look you couldn’t make out when he’d sat up in bed. He almost looks upset, but his shoulders aren’t tensed up like they are when he’s upset after a game. You feel your stomach turn but you have to ask.

“Is everything okay, Jack?”

He pushes a smile onto his face and nods, “yeah, it’s all good. I’ll see you around.”

You return the smile and watch him finally go, falling back into the empty bed that you were always left with. Things always felt a little more empty once Jack was gone.

—

“This place is packed,” you raise your voice, leaning in so Lexie can hear you better.

She nods, looking just as displeased as you, “I know, but Sam wanted to come here for her birthday so we just have to fake some fun for a couple hours and then maybe we can get everyone to go somewhere else.”

Clubs weren’t typically your thing but Lexie swore she’d stick by your side that night since the both of you would much rather be at home with wine and a blanket. Instead you were trying to make your way to a bar that had layers of people at least three deep trying to get their drinks.

Lexie bites the bullet and goes up first to get you both drinks and you look around the room, trying to get your bearings for where things were. You find a back exit, the bathrooms, and what looks to be a VIP section. It’s not a normal VIP section though because there’s no one preventing people from going in or out of the area so you shrug it off and wait for your friend to return.

“To being newly single and Sam’s birthday for getting you out of your apartment!” Lexie smiles, handing you your drink and holding hers up.

You laugh and happily clink your glass, taking an even bigger drink than you’d intended when you suddenly remember the last person you’d done a toast with.

You hadn’t heard from Jack since he left after giving you that odd look. Maybe he wasn’t handling the pressure of the season well and just needed to be in his own head space. That was the excuse you kept telling yourself anyways. You’d broken things off with Eric once he’d gotten home from his work conference because you knew you didn’t have feelings for him the way you did for Jack. Not that you had any right to, but since when did anyone’s heart ever listen to logic?

“Should we try and find a table?” Lexie asks, having to really raise her voice to be heard now.

You nod, knowing it was almost impossible to speak up and have her hear you so instead you head a little farther into the club, trying to move towards the wall. You get a bit of a clearing then and you both let out a sigh.

“I thought we were about to die in there,” you laugh, the noise level lower in the back part of the room.

Lexie snorts and opens her mouth to respond, but the way her eyes go wide over something she sees behind you makes you nervous. You turn to check what she’d seen and it’s almost instant that you find what caught her attention. Jack is standing there, back near the VIP area, with a pretty little thing pressed against the front of him. She’s trying so hard to get his attention but you know from the look on his face that he’s not hearing a word she says.

Your heart sinks a little at the sight of him. He was obviously available to other people, but he hadn’t been able to make any time for you. You scold yourself immediately and turn back to Lexie.

“He hasn’t reached out. I should just leave him,” you say, but there’s an itch suddenly under your skin from knowing how close he is.

Lexie raises an eyebrow at you and glances back at Jack, “you’re kidding, right? I bet if you went over there right now he’d send that girl packing and talk to you.”

She’s not wrong but those weren’t the words you wanted her to say to you. What you needed to hear was that you should leave him alone because he hadn’t tried to see you. You chew on your lip as you think over what Lexie had just said and glance at him again.

He meets your gaze this time but it’s like he’s seeing right through you. The look alone is enough to have you turning around and heading in his direction. He sidesteps the girl who was trying to talk to him and meets you halfway. His hair is starting to get long and he definitely hasn’t shaved in a couple days, but you can’t tell that until he’s closer.

“You look hot,” he smiles, leaning down a bit so you can hear him better. He looks rough and you can smell the alcohol rolling off of him as he presses so close to you it’s hard to think straight. The glass in his hand is empty save for one last drink of the dark liquid. This isn’t the Jack you were used to. This was someone else entirely.

“Thanks,” you say, not used to him using that phrase to describe you, “who did you come here with?”

He frowns and looks around the room, “uh, I don’t know. I think Nico maybe?”

Your worry only grows when he can’t give you a straight answer, “are you sure you’re okay here? Do you need to leave maybe?”

“Stop,” he groans, running a hand through his hair, “why do you care so much? I treat you like shit but you still come back. Why?”

“I don’t know. I can’t help it, I guess,” you shrug, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable.

Jack’s eyes are a little glassy and he seems to be focusing hard to keep his sight on you. He wobbles a little and you reach out, putting a gentle grip on his arm.

“No, don’t. I’m not what you want. Fuck, you deserve a real guy. Listen, I’m not the shiny new toy in the league anymore. Now I’m just some kid who can’t put up the right numbers,” he says, choking out a laugh that sounds hollow.

“Why don’t you let anyone help you? This doesn’t have to be something you do alone.”

His eyes roll back in his head as he closes them, sighing, “you don’t listen. You can’t fix me. What about that don’t you get?”

“Jesus, Jack, if you’d let people in then this wouldn’t be a fight right now. Where have you been lately even? You went missing after the last time you came over,” you try and change the subject, hoping whatever is coursing through his system allows you to redirect him easily.

“I got things taken care of. No more painkiller shots,” he smirks, like he’s really proud of whatever it is he’d done.

Something about the way he's still looking through you rather than at you has you doubting the source of his new fix. You refuse to ask, not wanting to know if he’d found something harder or what. You knew what type of things athletes could get involved with.

He reaches his hand up suddenly, cupping your cheek, and finally looking at you like he sees you, “you care about me so much,” he starts, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek, “and I care so fucking much, but I can’t be the guy for you. I wish I could because I’ve never had feelings for someone the way I do for you, but I’m too fucked up. I can’t take you down with me.”

You swallow hard as his words sink in and you’re sure people must be watching the two of you. You’re still pressed close and he can’t look away from you now. He knows his feelings for you border on being in love, but he meant what he said, even if his head was so fuzzy he could hardly remember where he was. He was always sure about you and his feelings for you though.

“Jack, I broke up with him,” you mumble, but somehow he still manages to hear you. Of course he heard you.

His face flashes with confusion and even a little bit of hurt, and it’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him so far. He swallows and opens his mouth before closing it again. He blinks hard and then seems to settle back into the blank stare he’d been sporting.

“You didn’t have to do that. He cared about you,” he finally replies, but he seems a little thrown off still. You can’t see it in his look, but you can certainly hear it in the slight waiver of his voice.

You nod, because of course you knew, but you tell him, “but he wasn’t you, J. He never could be.”

He can’t bring himself to respond but his bottom lip quivers a little. He has to force himself to zone out so he doesn’t break down and try to keep you all to himself. That wouldn’t be fair if he did. He knew he had to let you go even though he only wanted the opposite. You can tell he’s closing himself off and you realize he’s not coming back to you again.

“You know if you ever need me you just have to call. I’ll always show up for you,” you nod, forcing yourself to keep your cool. If you lost it you weren’t sure how he’d react because he certainly wasn’t in his right mind.

The lights in the club dance across his face, creating shadows on the left side of his features. You know it’s a little ironic but you look between the differences and see the two sides of him then. He wanted to be good. A good guy, a good hockey player, and a good boyfriend even. But the other side of him had taken too much already. Too many hits, too many drinks, and too many one night stands to feel like he could settle down with a good person.

“I’m gonna go, Jack. Don’t be a stranger. Please,” you tell him, silently begging him to ask you to stay.

Instead his hand drops from your cheek and he nods, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes and take it in for a second before he’s pulling away. You start to walk away to where Lexie is waiting and watching the entire thing. She gives you a comforting smile and holds her arm out for you to hide under.

She heads for the exit immediately, knowing you were done for. You can’t help but glance back at where Jack still was. He’s still watching you walk away, eyes locked on you but glossed over in a way that tells you he isn’t taking anything in again. The lights still reflect on his face, light and dark, and you know you have to let him go.

It’s just that everything felt a little more empty when Jack was gone, for you and for him.

#jack hughes #mine #my writing #new jersey devils #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #usa hockey #tw: drug use

280 notes · View notes

stayinzencity · 3 years

Text

check out the other works written for The BBH Day Event hosted by @supermwritersnet ♡

member: birthday boy baekhyun (yes he's 29 now- it's for the alliteration)

pairing: none

genre: humor (idk what else to call this)

word count: 1.3K

warnings: sehun doesn’t wear a seatbelt (car safety is important!!), kpop references galore, suspension of disbelief is required to read this, there is no actual plot

summary: baekhyun doesn't remember what day it is. then he does. chaos ensues.

a/n: i sleep wrote half of this. idek what this is. please don't take this too seriously.

He only has one eye open, his head propped up by his hand and it's too early in the day for Baekhyun to be sure of anything, but he's pretty sure he isn't sitting with his friends.

He'd walked into the lecture hall and flung himself into what he'd thought was his usual seat, but he was sitting next to someone he'd never seen before.

On second thought, perhaps he did know him. Wasn’t it Chanyeol’s friend? Kim Myungsoo?

Speaking of Chanyeol… Baekhyun twists around to check if the rest of his gang was seated somewhere, laughing at him. Yet they were nowhere in sight. Was this even the right hall or had he gotten that wrong too?

"Excuse me." Baekhyun makes an attempt to get Myungsoo’s attention, however he’s too absorbed in his work to notice. Baekhyun tries again with a louder voice and waving a hand in front of him. "Excuse me!"

This time Myungsoo turns towards him, taking out an earbud and giving him a questioning glare.

"Sorry to bother you,” Baekhyun says with an awkward laugh. He runs a hand back through his hair. “Could you tell me which class this is? I think I might be lost." He apologises again. Just to be safe.

The student sighs and pushes his book towards Baekhyun so that he can read the title. Baekhyun rubs his eyes and tries to focus on the words. Oh. His name was Kyungsoo. And Baekhyun was in fact in the correct class.

Maybe today was bunk day, and that's why there weren’t as many students. Or maybe for once Baekhyun had arrived early.

This morning he'd woken up, noticed his roommate had already left, and hadn't checked the time as he rushed to get to class. He wasn’t even sure what day it was. Was it the third day of May? Or was it still April?

Suddenly, his friends pop up from the benches in front of and behind him. “Happy birthday, Baekhyun!” Oh right. It was May 6.

They place the ice cream cake before him. Twenty nine candles were arranged haphazardly on it. His face was on the cake.

At least the cake wasn’t on his face. Yet. There’d by cake flying soon if this went anything like the usual birthday celebration.

However they were still in the lecture hall. Which was equipped with cameras. That were (un)fortunately working. So maybe the caketastrophe wouldn’t happen. For now. It was always possible that they had something else planned for him outside. Maybe he should stake out in the campus until it was safe.

Someone screams. Soda splashes over him and soaks his clothes.

Kyungsoo hadn’t escaped either and if looks could kill everyone around him would be dead. Especially Chanyeol who was behind the spill.

It wasn’t entirely his fault since someone had tripped and bumped into him which had sent the cup in his hand flying. But Kyungsoo did not seem to be in the mood to debate technicalities.

Baekhyun wakes up when the alarm ring ding dongs.

He checks the time and the day. It was May 6. And he’d be on time to class if he hurries.

But did he really want to be there? His so called friends were waiting for him to arrive so that they could sacrifice him to the birthday demons. Maybe it be wiser to sneak away while he could.

Also how did he forget his friend? Does Kyungsoo already know somehow? Is Baekhyun going to live to see tomorrow?

With these thoughts racing through his head, he runs out the door, straight into Jongdae. Literally. Head banging, air knocked out of his lungs, man on man. Jongdae shoves him off. His sinister smile makes its appearance.

That was Baekhyun’s cue. He doesn’t wait for whatever Jongdae was about to say and tunes out the screeches as he runs for his life.

At one point he realised he was heading towards the campus. Was that the right choice? He’d be found there, for sure, but maybe the cameras would give him the protection he needed until the day ended. Or would it be better to hide somewhere they had less of a chance of finding him?

“I’mma shake it, shake it, shake it, like it was my birthday.” A car comes around the corner blasting a song at an obnoxiously loud volume.

The front window rolls down and Chanyeol pokes his head out. “Get in,” he shouts.

Kai sports his evil grin from the driver’s seat and Sehun lays asleep in the backseat. Which was definitely not safe. At the moment Baekhyun did not have the time or will to point that out.

Of course, Baekhyun doesn’t get in. He sprints into the woods. Which almost seem to appear out of nowhere. Wasn’t there supposed to be a park there?

When he finally stops to catch his breath, there was no sight of his pursuers. Also he was off trail, and very lost. Plus it was getting dark.

He slumps against the tree and slowly slides to the ground. He was going to perish all alone, he thinks as he becomes one with the soil on the ground.

Someone sticks a flashlight in his face. A security guard peers down at him. “Hey! What on earth are you doing here?” It definitely isn’t a judging look he’s giving Baekhyun. “The park is closed for the night.”

Oh. So Baekhyun hadn’t wandered into a forest where the wild would chew him up and spit him out. It was a park like he'd first suspected.

The light was getting awfully bright. Soon all Baekhyun could see was white. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he found himself in a laundromat. There was a woman doing aerobics? Zumba? Where was the door?

Baekhyun walks out and finds himself in front of an apartment complex. There’s a group of boys serenading and dancing. He’d take the time to appreciate their performance, especially since they were being nice greeting everyone hello, however he didn’t have time to spare. His friends were after him. Who knew where they’d come from this time?

Somehow Baekhyun wanders into a warehouse. It’s raining inside even though there isn’t a cloud outside. A group is performing some kind of angsty interpretive dance. There’s mud, sweat and rain. One of the guys rips his shirt open and starts laughing diabolically.

It’s definitely time to leave. One of the doors leads to a room where what seems to be a sing/dance off is taking place.

“Tell me your wish. I’m genie for you, boy. Tell me your wish. I’m genie for your wish. Tell me your wish. I’m genie for your dreams,” the girl group sings.

Meanwhile, the boy group sings, “It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. Now make a wish.”

Slightly flustered, Baekhyun contemplates making a wish. Getting the day to end sooner so he doesn’t have to endure this?

The performances are fine- he hasn’t forgotten his friends are still after him though, even if he hasn’t seen them since he run run run himself into the woods. He is currently convinced all of this is a fever dream.

“Cheer up, baby!” A cheerleader cheers. Baekhyun has no idea how he ended up in a gymnasium.

Someone hands him a paper, he signs his autograph and hands it back to them, before he hurries out.

He finished high school years ago, and he did not want to go back to those times.

There was a group of five boys performing outside on the lawn with sprinklers on. Baekhyun was once again felt the temptation to stay.

How much longer until the day ended? He might actually escape this time.

Hands grab him from both sides.

“I don’t think so.”

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suituuup · 3 years

Photo

pieces - chapter 4

summary: Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use, emotional abuse)

ao3 link

six years ago

Chloe glanced up at the Girls neon sign and adjusted her purse over her shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous; it was just dancing, right? Chloe loved dancing. Granted, it would be in a bikini and heels with mostly middle-aged men watching, a far cry from her performances as Bella, but she could do this.

She didn’t have much of a choice, anyway.

Money had been really tight lately, as it turned out living in NYC was really expensive, and her parents couldn’t help her much, given that they had already financed her seven years in Barden and her dad had health issues.

It was one of her colleagues at the coffee shop Chloe worked at who told her about stripping. The money was a lot better and the hours were flexible, so Chloe could go to class during the day, study for a bit at night then head to work. Sleep would be scarce but… it was either that or she wouldn’t be able to pay rent this month.

Sucking in a deep breath, Chloe pushed the door open and found it locked. It was only seven pm, but she didn’t want to bother the manager later in the night when it got busy. She knocked on the surface several times, the door eventually opening after a minute or two.

“Yes?” A slightly older woman popped her head out. “What can I do for you, honey? We don’t open ‘til nine.”

“I know, um, I was hoping to see the manager? I was told there was an opening for a stripper position.”

Her gaze swept over Chloe’s figure, and she smiled before opening the door wider. “Have a seat, I’ll call him.”

present time

“Marco, turn off your fucking phone,” Chloe groaned, patting the space next to her to wake him up.

The blaring alarm was jamming into her skull like a goddamn sledgehammer. When her hand only met soft sheets, Chloe’s eyes opened, instantly squinting against the blinding light. Marco wasn’t there. Not that it was much of a surprise, as he often slept around. “Fuck,” she muttered as she sat up, eventually locating the offending object and swiping across the screen until it turned silent. Chloe flopped back against the mattress, legs twisting into the sheets as she angled her face into the pillow. Her head was pulsing from a raging hangover and her mouth felt as dry as the freaking Sahara, but Chloe didn’t feel like moving.

She didn’t feel like living.

Each morning felt like having to claw herself a way out from underneath the rubble. Each morning felt like she had fallen a little bit deeper during the night.

All of that because of one wrong step, and a tumble.

five and a half years ago

Multiple Sclerosis.

Chloe remembered the day her parents told her about it. She was eighteen, it was a warm evening in the summer. She had been stargazing, like she often did during those peaceful nights, making the most of Oregon’s gorgeous skies before she moved to Atlanta for college.

Her mom called her inside, sitting her down at the table. Chloe could immediately tell something was wrong.

Her dad was sick. Multiple Sclerosis, the doctor said. Chloe had heard of it, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. Her dad explained it was something to do with the brain and the nerves. He was starting to lose feeling in his right arm, and it would only get worse with age.

The news crushed Chloe; her dad was her best friend, her adventure buddy. He took her on camping trips before she could walk. They went fishing together, played ball on the nearby court, or went for runs on the beach on Sundays. He often talked about how excited he was to do all these things with his grandchildren in the future.

Since his disease was late-onset, it progressed quickly. Her dad could no longer walk, and she could tell her parents were struggling with affording treatment, homecare, and equipment to make their lives easier.

“More shifts, huh?” Greg, the club’s manager, asked her as he reclined back in his leather chair behind his desk, folding his hands over his stomach.

“Yeah, I’m a little tight on money and would like to work two more nights a week.”

She would figure out how to juggle stripping with school. She just would.

“I don’t have any more shifts available, unfortunately. However…” he pushed to his feet and rounded his desk, leaning against it as he faced Chloe. “Clients like you. I’ve stopped counting the number of times they requested you for something private. So there’s always that option to make extra cash.”

“Something private?” Chloe cleared her throat. “What um-- what does that entail exactly?”

Greg smirked. “Anything goes for the right amount of money.”

Chloe knew the more she thought about it, the most likely she was to chicken out. So she agreed.

“You look like you’re going to be sick, hun,” Martha, the oldest stripper of the bunch, said as she approached Chloe. She sat in front of her vanity, mentally preparing herself to go into one of the VIP rooms with a client. “You need to pull yourself together, babe. The client won’t enjoy it if you’re nervous.”

She reached inside her purse and produced a tiny zip-lock bag with a bit of white powder in it.

“Helps to take the edge off, especially on your first time,” she added when Chloe glanced at her in shock.

“I don’t-- I don’t do that stuff.”

She knew drugs got around the club. Most of the girls used. Crack, ecstasy, heroin, meth… you name it, Chloe had seen it go around. But she promised herself she’d never go down that route.

Martha shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Chloe lasted three weeks before snorting her first line.

present time

“Fuck, where is it?” Chloe muttered to herself as she rummaged through her bag, eventually tipping it back so its contents spread over the mattress.

She spotted the tiny bag and snatched it, smearing some of its content onto the small mirror laying on her bedside table. Her hand shook as she used an expired credit card to make a line, then grabbed the straw.

You know that first cup of coffee of the day you can hardly function without? Well, that is what cocaine had become to Chloe. She used to justify her actions by convincing herself she could stop anytime she wanted to. But it was already too late. She was hooked, and it was too fucking hard to stop.

As she plopped back on her bed and attempted to relax while the coke worked on her nervous system, Chloe thought of Beca.

five years ago

Bree 💕

Chloe groaned at the name flashing on her vibrating phone and flipped it over, curling up in a ball on her bed. She had been ignoring most of the girls for the past few weeks. Every glance at the group chat reminded her of how much of a failure she was.

Aubrey had just passed the bar. Beca had been nominated for a Grammy. Cynthia-Rose was a music producer. Stacie, a space engineer. And so on.

They were all successful in life, while Chloe?

Well, Chloe had dropped out of vet school. She was a stripper who pleasured men for a living. She lived in a tiny box apartment and spent her grocery money on crack. She got drunk pretty much every night and had absolutely no prospect in life.

Their yearly Bellas reunion was just around the corner, and Chloe hadn’t replied yet, which was no doubt the reason behind her best friend calling this morning. And yesterday. And the day before that.

Chloe couldn’t go. For the same reason, she couldn’t go home to her parents.

The thought of it only fed that shame eating away at her soul.

present day

Chloe hadn’t allowed herself to think about the Bellas in a long time, as it only brought heartbreak, regrets, and even more shame over how she had left things.

But then Beca showed up out of the blue, and Chloe’s shield instantly materialized. She saw it right there in Beca’s eyes; the pity over what Chloe had become. That unspoken reminder that she was a failure made Chloe want to crawl out of her own skin.

Chloe wasn’t planning on using that business card. Even though Beca was on her mind near constantly, she couldn’t bring herself to call her. And then they bumped into one another last week, and despite the snark, what was left of the Chloe from six years ago within her thought it might mean something.

A coffee. Coffee was fine, to start with.

Sarah was unexpected, yet another proof of how together Beca’s life was. But Chloe pushed through the discomfort swirling around her insides, up until the money comment. Up until it further dawned on her that they now belonged to two very different worlds.

Beca was probably a multi-millionaire. Aubrey was a lawyer. And Chloe? Well, Chloe was still just as worthless as she was five years ago. That shame she had somehow managed to bury all that time came right back around to slap her in the face.

So she bolted, figuring this was the last she would see of Beca Mitchell.

Except Chloe couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Grabbing her computer, she sat up against the headboard and balanced the device on her thighs, allowing herself to look Beca up for the first time in five years.

Various photos of Beca on the red carpet and a Wikipedia page popped up, and Chloe clicked on the page, swallowing the lump forming in her throat as she scrolled down. Fifteen minutes later, she somehow found herself on YouTube, typing in the same name and clicking on the most popular video.

Something unraveled within her as she heard that voice for the first time in half a decade. An array of emotions released, but one stood out over the others as it was a feeling Chloe hadn’t experienced in a long time: peace.

Music hadn’t felt like music for a long while; Chloe had lost her connection to it somewhere down the road. She had grown numb to it, just like with most things that used to make her happy.

But this… Chloe had forgotten what it felt like to be moved by lyrics. To feel comforted by a melody that felt like a warm blanket over her soul. Soon tears were slipping out of her eyes and Chloe didn’t do anything to stop them. She curled up in a ball and played Beca’s albums on shuffle for the next three hours, basking in that temporary moment of serenity. ��

When it eventually stopped, Chloe plucked Beca’s business card from her bedside table and grabbed her phone, blinking several times to clear her vision so she could punch in the right numbers. Her heart echoed in her ears as she waited for someone to pick it up.

“BMLJ, Tara speaking, how may I help?”

“H-hi, this is Chloe Beale. I was wondering if I could speak to Beca? Beca Mitchell.”

“Hold please.”

Chloe started picking on her nails, battling with the little voice inside her head encouraging her to hang up.

“Chlo?”

Chloe’s chest tightened at the nickname, and her voice stuck to her throat. “Hi.”

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“No, I… I mean yes, I am crying but I-- I just listened to your music and-- it’s amazing, Beca.”

“Oh.” Beca sounded surprised. A few beats of silence follow. “It means a lot that you liked it, Chlo.”

It took Chloe a handful of seconds to realize she was the one supposed to say something. “I um, is this a bad time?”

“No, no. What’s up?”

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath as she picked at a loose thread on her sleeping shorts. “I um, well I was wondering if we could see each other sometime next week? I’m sorry about the other day, I wasn’t-- I wasn’t feeling great.”

“You don’t need to apologize. And yeah, that sounds great. How about Thursday for lunch? Or a walk in the park, if you prefer.”

“A walk in the park sounds good.”

“We can meet next to the Roosevelt statue in front of the Natural History Museum at 12:30?”

“Okay.”

“Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy you called. See you on Thursday.”

Chloe’s smile felt like the first genuine one in too long. “See you on Thursday.”

“What’s going on on Thursday?”

Chloe jolted, looking over her shoulder to find Marco standing in the doorway. “Jesus, Marco. You scared the crap out of me.”

two years ago

“I’m Marco, the club’s new manager,” the dark-haired man introduced himself, extending a hand towards Chloe.

Chloe shook his hand. “I’m Ariel.”

“You really are as beautiful as they say.”

She glanced through the mirror and met his eyes; unimpressed. “Is it a habit of yours to hit on your employees?”

He chuckled. “No. I guess you’re the exception.”

Chloe wasn’t interested. At first, anyway. But Marco had apparently set his sights on her, and well, Chloe felt lonely. They played around each other for a few months, eventually giving in to their attraction towards each other. One night’s shenanigans blossomed into more, and Chloe found herself falling for her boss.

And she believed him when he told her he loved her. He was the buoy in her storm, the hand that was pulling her from underneath the rubble. Chloe was so blinded by that that she didn’t pick up on his toxic behavior right away.

“Here’s a thought,” he murmured one morning as they lay in bed in his luxurious condo.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. She was definitely still drunk from last night, her recent hit of crack causing her mind to float blissfully.

He set his chin on her hipbone as he lay on his stomach, looking up at her. “I don’t want you to work in the VIP room anymore.”

“Are you jealous or something?” Chloe slurred, smirking to mask how desperate she was to stop working in the VIP room. It had crushed her spirit. “You know I can’t afford to only live on lapdances and the stage. I have rent and bills to pay.”

He licked his lips, a soft smile spreading across her features. “I know. Which is why you should move in with me.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “We’ve been together only four months.”

“But I love you,” he said, almost desperately. “And you love me too, right? We’re good together, baby.”

A sigh flitted past Chloe’s lips. “Even if I do move in, I still have to take care of my dad.”

“I know that too. And I want you to get a cut from the nightly profit, too.”

Chloe should have known it was too good to be true, yet she agreed.

It was another year before the veil lifted and Marco showed his true character.

present

Marco ignored her. As he usually did. “What’s going on on Thursday?” He repeated his tone calm and collected as always.

“I’m meeting up with Beca.” Not waiting for an answer, Chloe stood and padded out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. It was nearly five, and she hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“The chick from the 20 grand lapdance?” Marco followed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter while Chloe rummaged through the cupboards for a snack. “What’s her deal?”

“What do you mean, what’s her deal? We’re just gonna catch up. I told you, we used to be friends in college.”

Marco’s features hardened. “I don’t want you to see her.”

Chloe grabbed a box of crackers and rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.”

Marco approached, pinning her between his body and the counter. “Don’t talk to me like that, Chloe.”

Chloe gritted her teeth and glared at him, standing her ground. “I never complain about you sleeping around with other women and you lose your mind over me meeting a friend? You don’t control me. I’ll meet her if I want to.”

She moved to get past him, yelping when he yanked her back by the arm. The anger swirling in his eyes made her choke on her saliva.

“I don’t think you realize how much I’ve done for you, Chloe. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be giving blowjobs for a living.” He didn’t need to raise his voice; the truth behind his words was powerful enough as they wormed their way into Chloe’s brain. “Does she even know you’re a crack addict? That you can’t go more than five hours without a hit?” He continued, seemingly finding it satisfying to break through Chloe’s armor. “Maybe she’s just looking for a charity case.”

Chloe warred with her mind not to believe him, shaking her head as her insecurities muffled her anger towards Marco. “That’s not-- that’s not true. You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

Chloe remained silent, doubt seizing her.

“That’s what I thought.” Marco’s hold loosened. “Think about your dad, sweetheart. It would be a shame if you suddenly found yourself without a job and no money to provide for him. You know no other strip club will want you if I fire you. And that’s all you can do, isn’t it? Using your body to charm men into giving you money.” He squeezed her hip, leaning in closer so he was whispering the next bit directly against her ear. “So I would listen if I were you.”

He walked away then, but his words remained, trapping Chloe’s mind in an invisible prison.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #chloe beale #beca mitchell #pitch perfect fanfic #pieces

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calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years

Text

MBJ Alphabet | Choker.

twenty-six fluffy/smutty stories, long over-due. a mixture of reader/oc fics divided amongst mike & the characters he has played. based on the word suggestions received for each letter of the alphabet. updated out of order, based on your votes. can be tracked under mbj alphabet in my tags for mobile users. check out the prompts & submit your vote for what you’d like to see next. feedback always welcomed

Link to the MBJ Alphabet Masterlist | Sign up to be tagged

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black!OC

Summary: It’s midterm season again at MIT. Cue copious amounts of coffee and group study sessions. Erik’s distraction comes from Jaz’s favorite accessory

Words: 1.8K

Erik doesn’t play when it comes to his grades, but that’s not the reason he’s in the library at nine-thirty on a Saturday night. Any other Saturday, you wouldn’t dare catch Erik in the library. By this time, he is typically done working over one of the many girls he has wrapped around his finger.

Speaking of "one of the many girls" -- that’s why Erik has interrupted his usual Saturday night routine with a trip to the library.

Jasmine Stewart.

She may be one of the many girls that have entered the orbit of Erik Stevens, but she is definitely not wrapped around his finger. If we consider the sole reason Erik is in the library, it might be the other way around.

Erik can’t remember the last time he actually studied. He’s never had to. He hears the information once, and he’s good. That’s why he received the sight of rolling eyes upon his arrival.

“What?”

Jaz bites her tongue as she watches Erik drop into the chair next to hers. When he chased her down, after class, with a smile and "you got one more spot on that list?" Jaz had extremely low expectations.

She has crossed paths with Erik for the last year and has never witnessed him step foot in the library or attend a single study session. This is why, as her eyes pass over his lack of-- well lack of anything -- Jaz shakes her head.

As she meets his playful eyes, she redirects her attention to the study guide before her.

“You’re late, Stevens.” She replies, raising her pencil to point towards the clock. “Twenty-seven minutes late to be exact, without a single book. Which is why we started without you.”

“You didn’t think I’d show up?”

“Can you blame me?” Disregarding the rolling of Erik's eyes, Jaz easily swipes his hand away preventing him from dragging her chair closer to his. Instead, he settles for moving his chair closer. “It’s Saturday night, and trust me, we all know what you do on Saturday nights.”

Jaz’s eyes roll as Erik's arm drapes along the back of her chair. She knows pushing it away is pointless. Primarily because the smile she had intended on suppressing, has already made its way across her face.

Now that her previous statement has had a chance to set in, Jaz's smile is gone. Erik's smile, however, has grown in size as he watches Jaz's gaze drop from his. It lingers on his lips for a brief moment before she pauses to clear her throat.

Blinking, Jaz redirects her attention to the stack of study guides before her.

"Um...I made these for everyone," she offers, blindly pushing a copy in his direction.

"Thanks."

Even after her focus has shifted, Jaz knows the remainder of the session will be useless. At least with Erik seated alongside her. He doesn't bother to read the study guide she spent hours creating. His gaze, instead, is preoccupied with regarding her.

The worst part about Erik's gaze is that it is unapologetic--shameless. It lingers on each of her features, somehow evoking vivid memories of how they felt beneath his lips.

An all too familiar heat that only rouses in his presence spreads across Jaz's skin as she attempts to concentrate on her notes. Shifting forward, she rests her elbows against the table, trying to increase the space separating their bodies. The feeble attempt does little to help her focus.

And he knows it.

The last time Erik was this close was a week ago. Jaz was pinned against the fridge in his apartment. And Erik's hand wasn’t rapping against the back of her seat. It was wrapped around Jaz's throat while he watched her come undone for the second time that morning.

The memories of last Saturday, that melded into Sunday morning, quickly flood her mind. The smile on Erik’s lips morphs into a grin as Jaz shifts in her seat, her legs uncrossing, fingers toying with the black lace around her neck.

It was a nervous tick. One Erik noticed she only seemed to display beneath his gaze. No matter how quick she was with her words, Jaz toyed with her necklaces when nervous. A tick that made it impossible for Erik not to think about kissing her neck each time he witnessed it.

Today’s distraction is Jaz's favorite black lace choker. With her long, dark locks pulled into a high ponytail, it’s easy for Erik to see that the evidence from their last encounter still marks her skin.

If it weren’t for the fading hickies meticulously placed along her skin, barely covered by the thin lace, Erik would’ve accepted he dreamed their encounter.

Because after he’d interrupted her making coffee for a round of half-sleep, lazy sex, Erik had stopped to take a shower. By the time he had found a towel and stepped back into the kitchen, Jaz was gone.

She hadn't even bothered to leave coffee in the pot for him. Once they saw each other in class that following Monday, Jaz was back to addressing Erik Stevens with the same amount of energy she had the past several months. Little to none.

When she came home with him that first night, Erik hadn’t initially planned on calling her the next day.

Relationships aren’t really his thing.

But he did at least anticipate a phone call -- shit, even a text.

They always come. No matter if Erik never bothers to respond half the time, they always come. Not from Jaz.

“Speaking of Saturday night,” Erik sighs. His eyes drop to follow the action of her fingers as they trace the lace against her skin. “You lose my number or something?”

This question is enough to raise her eyes from her notes. Erik earns a smile as Jaz’s eyes meet his.

"When you popped smoke-"

“Or something.” A light shrug accompanies Jaz's words. Putting her pen down, she shifts in her seat to find Erik's eyebrow raised, his lips turned up into a grin. “And I did not pop smoke. Especially when you're Mr. Can't Sleep With The Same Girl More Than Once."

"Okay," Erik chuckles. He runs his tongue across his lower lip, dragging Jaz's mind straight back to the last Saturday. “Last I checked, we definitely went more than once-”

Shaking her head, in a feeble attempt to clear it, Jaz ignores the smile she receives in response.

"So, what?" Jaz huffs, the sarcasm in her voice surprisingly strong. "Is this where you tell me that you showed up tonight to say I'm the exception to the rule, and you suddenly wanna take me out?"

"I didn’t say all that-"

"Good," she smiles as she pushes her chair back. Standing, she retrieves the sticky note from her notebook. “I don’t have time for a boyfriend, so you can save the whole I'm not emotionally available speech."

"And pick up with what comes after?" He chuckles as he falls into step alongside her.

She's not sure why the proposition throws her off, but Jaz glances in Erik's direction.

"No," she laughs. The sound does not sound nearly as convincing as she intends. "Did you get up to annoy me or help me?"

"I'll help you," Erik shrugs as she stops to double-check the author on the sticky note. "Just tell me what you need."

"You wanna help me out?" Jaz lifts the sticky note. She presses it firmly against his chest, stopping his hands from finding her waist. "Help me find this book."

Jaz may have had pure intentions when she stood up from the table. Erik, on the other hand, might not have.

In fact, if anyone in their study group could find the brainpower to look up from their notes, they would notice Erik is nowhere to be seen.

And has been M.I.A. for nearly ten minutes.

While his classmates stress over the quickly approaching midterms, Erik is deep in the stacks. His teeth cutting into her lip, catching the whimpers that spill from Jaz as his fingers stretch her open.

His thrusts are relentless and meticulous, melding into a torturous rhythm. Each time Jaz manages to regain control over her breathing, Erik's fingers move as fast as the stuttering of her heart. The second her fingers squeeze into his arm, her hips rolling forward to match his movements, Erik’s pace becomes teasingly slow. A chuckle is lost against her lips each time she whispers a protest.

Erik’s tongue passes over his lips at the beautiful sight before him.

Jaz’s head is tipped back, pressing into the books behind her. Her eyes gripped shut, chest heaving as she struggles to steady her breaths.

“We're in the library, babe," he teases. "You gotta be quiet."

It is the same taunt that comes each time he manages to pull a sound from her, and each time his pace slows.

Jaz would try and shoot back a snarky remark, but the fear of something much louder slipping out presses her teeth deeper into her lip.

They both knew the problem could easily be fixed.

All Erik has to do is lift his hand. Press it against her mouth, but that would be too easy. Instead of moving to muffle her voice, Erik's touch drags along the curve of her jaw. His lips follow its path, the brush of his tongue mixing in with heated kisses.

His grip tightens as it finds the base of her throat, his thumb tracing the pattern of the black lace against her skin. Pushing it up, he allows his breath to pass over the bruises on her skin. The shiver that passes over her spine, arches her body into his. Each brush and suck of his lips work to pull out a fresh bruise. Between the pressure from Erik's mouth and his fingers, Jaz's legs are trembling in a matter of seconds.

The wave of pleasure she has spent minutes chasing comes to an abrupt halt the moment “E-” passes her lips.

In an instance, Erik’s touch is gone. His chuckle muffles the gasp that escapes Jaz’s lungs.

“You should head back.” Jaz’s hooded eyes open. The deadly look in her eyes is enough to make Erik’s smile morph into a cheese-eating grin. “Wouldn’t want your group to start wondering where you went.”

“I’m going to kill you,” the promise in her voice earns Jaz a chaste kiss.

“You might need this,” Erik smiles.

Jaz's gaze falls from his sparkling eyes to the deep navy book in Erik’s hands. The slowly ebbing high has left her mind hazy, meaning it takes her a moment to realize it’s the book she had initially set out to find. Pressing it against his chest, Jaz tries her best to ignore the smug look on Erik’s face as he takes a step back.

“Use my number if you wanna finish later.”

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