#ive been picking at this for weeks during meetings so im shoving it out of my wip folder

[parisoonic]

🫂

#team fortress 2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #heavymedic #red oktoberfest #i know ive drawn this pose a million times but you're getting it AGAIN #guess who did everything on one layer and now cant change anything THIS GUY #ive been picking at this for weeks during meetings so im shoving it out of my wip folder

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Unexpected

Prompt: “what happened to your clothes?”  “I think i’m falling in love with you.” “I think ive always known, deep down, i think i’ve always loved you.” 

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, somewhat detailed sex scene, iunno not much really. 

A/N: Sorry it’s so long, i had this idea and thought it’d be a fun read. Enjoy :)

Dean sat on your bed, mindlessly watching and waiting as you hid in your closet, dress after dress, skirt after skirt flying out, one almost hitting him in the face. He caught it mid air before tossing it down next to him. 

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up, its just a few drinks at the bar, Max already knows you, you dont need to impress him, he already likes you.” Dean spoke, watching as you popped out from your closet, three different shirts in your hands.

Dean was your best friend, you had met him and Sam as a child, your fathers had been hunting partners for a few years, always leaving you and the boys at bobby’s to cause trouble for the old man. You could still hear bobby’s voice sometimes, demanding Dean stop influencing you with his schemes. 

His buddy Max had run into him at the bar last week while you guys had stopped in during a hunt and they had caught up for hours, you had connected with Max off the bat, and when he’d asked you out, you were skeptical, see deep down you always knew Dean was your guy, your never ending crush on him had turned into deeper feelings years ago, you tried to deny it for years, and definitely never told him, but when Dean had convinced you to give it a shot, go out on ONE date with a guy he knew and liked, you gave in, never being able to say no to him, i mean, to be fair you hadn’t been with a man in over 2 years and you could use a night out, maybe even some quality time in bed with a good looking guy, plus, Dean trusted him, and that was enough.

“Dean, i haven’t been out with a guy in 2 years, i’m not going out with a guy looking like a swamp monster, first dates are everything, and looking your best can make or break the date.” You huffed, holding out a shirt to him for an opinion, he shook his head, grimacing. 

“First, you never look like a swamp monster, you’re stunning no matter what, you hardly have to work at that, secondly, that’s an old ratty tshirt you stole from me, really?” He pointed at it, now realizing he was right, why the hell you were even suggesting this. It was time to pull out the big guns. You sighed, hiding back into your closet, you had to have something date worthy. 

Dean had popped away, grabbing himself a beer, giving himself a break from outfit advice. You were his best friend and he wanted nothing more than to see you happy, even if it meant trusting Max to take you out on a date. It was one date, it’s not like he was stealing you away forever. He had always had a soft spot for you, you were his first kiss as a kid and he’d looked out for you ever since, and even though he trusted Max, seeing you get all worked up over a guy that wasn’t him still didn’t settle well with him, but he shoved his feelings down and tried to be as supportive as he could. 

He walked back into your room, realizing you were finally working on your makeup, you were slightly bent over your bathroom sink, reaching closer to the mirror as you did your eyeliner, truth be told, he loved when you did that black wing thing, it enhanced your big E/C eyes and drove him nuts everytime. He looked you over, realizing what you finally had chosen to put on, a shorter than he’d like black leather mini skirt, a matching leather shirt thing that looked similar to a bra more than anything. He cleared his throat. 

“What happened to your clothes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You finish your eyeliner before walking past him, fetching lipstick out of your little makeup bag before making your way back to your bathroom, “What do you mean? Theyre fine.” You spoke, applying your lipstick as he piped up.

“I mean like, where’s the rest of it?” he sassed and you rolled your eyes as you walked back into the room. “It’s not that bad is it? It’s literally all i can find that isn’t covered in holes, old blood or stained monster guts.” You looked down at yourself, smoothing out your skirt. Dean cleared his throat as he eyed you properly, trying hard to calm his way out of a boner. 

“Uh, no, no i’m just teasing, you look incredible.” He smiled, nodding, you shoot him a innocent smile, “Better, Winchester. Much better, right answer.” You shoot him a small wink and he chuckles. He had come a long way on talking to women because of her, she helped him realize as a teenager and a young man that he didn’t need to be vulgar or gross to pick up women and he’d learned a long time ago thanks to her that chivarly was key.

He watched as she put on her coat, Max waiting by the door to take her out, she gave him a little wave as she told him not to wait up, she’d be fine. 

“Be safe, have fun.” He smiled as she walked out the door, his internal groan coming out of his mouth and he kicked himself for being too scared to ever make a move himself. He’d liked her since they were teenagers, but he was too stubborn to do anything, his fathers voice telling him hunter relationships never worked. 

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

The night had been a blast so far, you and Max were having a great time chatting, dancing and enjoying each others company at the bar, he was sweet, nice and had a good view on life and hunting. He told you entertaning stories, some even involved moments he and Dean shared as young teenagers hunting together, being boys and trying to get girls, Max pranking Dean. They had a good friendship and you were happy Dean had someone besides you and Sam he could pal around with. 

You had moved to his truck a while ago, the mix of alcohol and pure need affecting you both as you made out like teenagers, the windows began steaming up, it was an unusually warm evening in lebanon and you were thankful you wore this outfit or would have soaked right through it from the heat. 

His hand moved freely on your thigh and you straddled him, his back against the backseat of his pick up with you on his lap, dry humping him like some silly teenage girl who hadn’t had sex yet, you made the first move, desperate to feel a mans touch, it had been so long. 

You yank your top off, nothing but some nipple covers to cover your exposed breasts, Max lets out a soft moan, “Beautiful,” he mumbles while he kisses softly around your skin, he slowly peels off the covers off you and his mouth lands on your nipple and you let out a louder Moan than you want to but it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

Before you know it, your both down to nothing but your underwear, you reach down and pull down his boxers, reaching a hand in and grabbing him and placing him at your entrance, you’re already so turned on you don’t need foreplay tonight, not when you’re this sexually frustrated. 

You sink down on him slowly, and you both moan out, yours comes out as more of a shout, and you begin to move, slowly at first before changing into a soft but faster bounce, he’s making sounds, you know that for fact but you’re so distracted by the feeling of pure pleasure you haven’t felt in so long you aren’t even fully aware of what’s happening, you let out a shout, and before you know what’s happening, it all suddenly just stops.

You come back to reality and notice Max has pushed you off, he’s pulling his pants back on and avoiding your eye. Oh for fuck sakes, you haven’t even came close to your release and Dean set you up with a 2 minute one pump chump. You were going to kick his ass. 

“What’s wrong? are you done already?” you ask, his looks at you, letting out an exasperated huff before licking his lips and shaking his head. “I’m sorry Y/n, i don’t think this is going to work out, besides, you shouldn’t really sleep with a guy if you’re not going to rememember his name.” He scolds, glaring at you before he shoves his shirt on and climbs out the back, you put your skirt and shirt back on, deciding to skip the panties all together.

“Hey! I do remember your name, it’s Max, i’m not stupid!” You yell at him, angry now that he would even suggest that. Max turns to you, glaring, “Oh yeah, then next time maybe you should try screaming my name out and not Dean’s, jesus christ y/n, if you want him that bad just go fuck him, i doubt he’ll say no!” He shouts and you stand frozen. 

“What? Dean?, i didn’t...I don’t-” you stutter, he cuts you off. “It’s kind of obvious y/n, you screamed his name for a reason, you obviously have lingering feelings for him, and im not going to be your pitty fuck.” He sighs, he ushers you into the passenger seat, offering to drive you home in what is the most uncomfortabe, quiet, embrassing drive home ever. 

You slam the bunker door closed, worst date ever. You make your way past Dean and Sam in the library as you try your hardest to avoid them, especially Dean, you were embarassed enough, you didn’t need to face him right now, and you sure as hell hoped Max kept his mouth shut about it too.

“Y/N? That you? “ You hear Dean call out but you avoid answering, flying past them to your room before slamming the door shut. 

Dean’s eyebrows furrow.

“I guess the date didn’t go well then.” Sam speaks out, looking over at Dean. He shrugs, before getting up and walking towards your room

He knocks on the door softly, “Y/n, you okay? did Max do something cause if he did i’ll beat the living crap outta him.” He calls out, he can hear your sniffle, he sighs, before softly opening your door. You’re cuddled up in bed, watching your favorite episode of golden girls as you cry softly. He sighs and heads over, sitting on your bed. 

“Bad date?” He asks and you shrug, “Something like that.” He gives you a soft smile. “Want to talk about it?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, i just wanna forget it.” You speak, he notices you never meet his eye. He nods and agrees to leave it alone, he joins you quietly, watching tv with you but giving you your space. When you finally fall asleep, he goes to bed himself, but not before shooting Max a text. 

“Whatever the fuck you did man, she’s upset, and if i find out you hurt her, i’ll kill you.” 

                                                      ---------

It’s two weeks later when things finally come out, you haven’t spoken to Max since that night of your date. The bar is busier than usual, a few more college kids then there usually is but it is spring break, most of them are probably home for the much needed time away from school work. 

Dean is at the pool tables, hussling some airhead jock out of pool money. You watch and laugh when he heads over to you, cash in hand. 

“Ha ha, stupid brainless jocks. Always so much fun seeing how much of daddy’s money i can get out of them.” He chuckles, setting the money back in his pocket. You roll your eyes but smile. Why did you put up with this dork. 

Before you know it, someone is calling out for Dean. “Yo, Dean!” You both turn to spot Max, waving Dean over for a game. You swallow, nervous that the details of your date will come out, you still weren’t fully over it, and you dreaded Dean ever finding out, he’d never let you live it down and he really didn’t need a bigger ego. Luckily Max hadn’t noticed you yet. 

Dean motions he’ll play one round and be right back and you try to give him a smile, dreading this inside. Just don’t ask him about the date, you interally tell him, even though he’s long gone and can’t hear it. 

You sip your drink, asking for another one and you try to keep your cool at those two being in the same room all of a sudden. 

                                                      -----------

One game had turned into 4 and before you knew it, the two guys had captured a crowd, some betting on Max and some on Dean. It was becoming a friendly competition between the two boys. 

“Aw come on Max, don’t be a sore loser, i’m sure you can come back from that.” Dean teases, watching as Max lines up his next shot. 

“Easy for you to say Winchester, tell me, do you ever get sick of being a pompous prick?” Max winks at him and Dean smiles, “Eh, Sometimes, but then i remember how fun it is to watch you lose and its all worth it.” Dean chuckles, Max suddenly isn’t in a joking mood and he shoots, it goes in, he gets a few more and Dean’s actually surprised. 

“Not bad, man. You’re getting better.” Dean smirks, “Still no match for me though, i always win.” Dean leans in, takes a shot and gets his last three balls in, He lines up with the 8 ball, looks up at Max, and smirks, then his eyes find you, sitting behind Max a few tables down and he shoots you a wink, before sinking in his ball. Game over. 

Max turns around, realizing who Dean winked at, he turns back around, slamming his pool stick down. “Good game, I’m done, guess you won Dean, you got the money, and the one girl i’ve liked in a really long time, guess you always do win, huh?” He spits out, a bitter tinge to his voice. He scoffs and walks away.

Dean’s suddenly confused, what the hell was he talking about. He looks over at you, you’re watching the television over the bar, no clue what had just happened, he follows Max outside catching him before he reaches his truck.

“Hey! I didn’t get anything, if this is about y/n, you screwed that up on your own, okay? I had nothing to do with that!” Dean shouts. Max laughs and turns to face him. “Oh bullshit Dee, you have everything to do with it!” He sneers, “I really liked her man, she was cool, but like always, Dean Winchester always gets the girl!” He scoffs, making Dean frown, confused. 

“Y/n isn’t mine! she’s my friend, whatever you did to piss her off on your date was your problem, she didn’t tell me what you did but if you wanted her that bad, you had the chance to fix it!”

“REALLY DEE? Tell me, how the fuck would you fix the girl you like screaming your best friends name in bed when shes with you? Huh? How the fuck do i fix her thinkng about you while she’s fucking me?” He swallows, “Man, forget it, you wouldn’t understand, god forbid that ever happened to you.” He spits, before he’s in his truck, driving away. Dean’s still standing there, more confused than ever.

He finally makes it back inside, his eyes roaming around for you. He finds you in the same spot, the female bar tender chatting with you and making you laugh. Your eyes find him, beckoning him over and he moves.

He finally reaches you and you smile, “I got you another beer. How did the game go? You disappeared.” You ask, and he stares at you, he finally pipes up, and your heart sinks. Oh no. Please no.

“Max seemed very upset when he saw you, what happened on your date again? Why didn’t you ever go out with him again?” He asks, you take a sip of your beer and shrug. “I dunno, he wasn’t my type, just didn’t work out.” You bite your lip, hoping to god he lets this go, you don’t need to relive that embarassing moment. 

He nods, taking a drink of his own beer, “Okay, so he just wasn’t your type, that’s all? It had nothing to do with you screaming my name in the middle of sex?” He calmly points out and you nearly choke on your beer, spitting beer across the bar table, everyone close by stares at you, you turn red, apologizing and grabbing napkins to clean up your mess. 

You turn and face Dean, “He fucking told you!” Dean raises an eyebrow, “In a not so nice way, so it’s true? You really did?” He smirks and you bury your face in your hands, “Oh god...” You call out and when you look back up Dean’s cheesy grin is staring back at you, “Actually, apparently it’s Oh Dean.”

You throw a nice solid punch into his shoulder before you run out of the bar, “Y/n...y/n wait!” Dean calls out but you’re already half way across the bar and out the door. He throws down some cash and chases after you, catching you half way down the road.

“Y/n...” He calls out, “Just leave me alone Dean, i knew you would use this against me, i knew it. You’re a jerk.” You wipe away a tear, he finally reaches you and grabs your arm, turning you to face him. 

“Hey, i didn’t mean to upset you, i’m sorry, i just, i was surprised, that’s all.” He sighs, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I thought Max was the one who hurt you or something.” He speaks softly and you sniffle. 

“it’s embarassing, i didn’t even know i did it, i was so into it and then he just stopped, for a second i thought he’d already, you know, i was disappointed then we got into an argument about it and he took me home.” You shrugged. 

Dean nodded, he was quiet for a while, and then he spoke, revealing something that made even you question if you were drunk.

“I uh, i guess i wasn’t expecting to hear that, and i guess i got a little excited cause iunno i just, i think i’m falling in love with you, and when Max told me i just uh, i guess i was hopeful that maybe it meant you felt the same.” He swallows before going quiet, watching your reaction carefully. 

You nodded, frowning as you realised you weren’t dreaming, Dean loved you, Dean Winchester loved you.

“I think i’ve always known, Deep down, i think i’ve always loved you.” You shrug, “Every since we shared our first kiss, i think part of me has loved you ever since.” You smile, finally meeting Dean’s eyes, the grin on his face tells you all you need to know, this man is crazy about you, always has been.

“oh yeah?” He smiles, reaching out to grab you, you chuckle, leaning up and placing a slow, deep kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, what can i say, you’re just my type.” You smirk and Dean laughs. 

“Well then, why don’t we get back home and i’ll give you a real reason to scream my name.” He smirks, leaning down quite a bit to place wet warm kisses along your exposed neck. 

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” You roll your eyes, he meets them and a sexy grin appears on his face. 

“Not a chance.” 

#Dean x Reader #Dean winchester x Reader

[neokollection]

Kissing Out of Jealousy

NCT U + Yuta

‘Can I request a NCT U kissing you out of jealousy?’

A/N: I’m sure there’s already a reaction of this, but I’m here to add another :^) This is assuming you’re dating for some members, but for some you’re not dating, they like you- THIS IS LONG BTW!! [Kinda more like a mini drabble per each member]

** Language, some suggestive themes, but nothing explicit ** ik some ppl don't find jealousy cute so don't read if you not into that..

Taeil:

Taeil wasn’t the type to get jealous easily or behave pettily- Rather, he was just protective at times and would feel he’d have to interject to save you from situations... Whether you were feeling uncomfortable or not- Yet a part of your boyfriend also felt slightly neglected, a faithful dog waiting on the other side of the fence with it’s tail wagging at the sight of it’s owner, even though it’s owner was petting the neighbor’s cat.

He called out your name in the hopes of getting your attention as he watched you and Ten staring at your screens before nudging each other continuously with a laugh to show the other a recent entertaining Tweet. He was all for you bonding with the other boys, but he’d missed you this week and throughout the day constantly stuck by your side. Placing the bowl of steaming popcorn upon the coffee table, he took his seat beside you on the couch, hand patting around for the remote he’d dropped there moments before.

“OMG- You have to show that to Mark,” Ten gasped, covering his mouth to conceal his wicked grin as he looked at the meme you’d stumbled upon of Mark’s shorts.

“Let me see,” Taeil added, not wanting to miss out and curious as to what was so funny.

He leant in, eyes flickering to Ten as he watched the younger lean back into the couch, thumbs moving rapidly upon his screen. Taeil listened amusedly as he heard your small chuckle in his ear, a smile gracing his lips as he saw your screen before drawing back partially.

“You’re amused so easily,” he chuckled, nose nearly brushing your own as he leant nearer, a hand shooting to your waist to tickle you gently.

“Says you,” you squirmed with a bright smile.

Finally, his forehead rest upon your own, his antics stilling as he closed the gap between the two of you for a quick kiss. Embarrassed about kissing so openly with Ten by your side, you felt a blush creep upon your cheeks as you pulled away shyly. You could have sworn Taeil’s gaze jumped from your lips to your eyes to Ten before he closed the gap once more- You let out a muffled chuckle against his lips as your hands went to the front of his shirt to slow him down and steady yourself.

“Ew- God- Could you not?” Ten whined in disapproval, scooting away.

You could feel Taeil’s smile against your lips before he drew back, eyes as lively as ever.

Smothering you and being that cute couple to show off and make others wanna gag, but not let you think it’s a jealousy thing-

Taeyong:

Easily, one of the most jealous man you’d ever dated. He had his share of insecurities that make him question whether he’s worthy of love and attention, and an anxiety about losing the person he cherishes the most... So, seeing your interactions with your old classmates made him feel even more insecure in the moment. He’d had a stressful and busy week and hadn’t gotten to see you much, merely late calls that usually didn’t last long because he’d coax you to go to sleep early since you’re busy as well. Meeting a few of your old high school classmates, totally coincidentally at Gong Cha was all it took for him to have a small internal freak out. He already didn’t like that they were guys, even more so that they’d known you longer than he had technically... He felt excluded- He always wanted to be a part of every part of your life and have you in every part of his- To him your soulmates and he didn’t like feeling as though someone had a leg up on him in regards to you.

“You look great! Wow- It’s been a minute, but wow-” one of your old classmates gushed, stunned by how you’d matured and glowed up through the years spent apart.

You gave a small chuckle in return, “I’m surprised you recognized me-”

“I mean how could I forget (Y/n)?” he joked, gesturing towards you, followed by a few hums of the other classmates beside him.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that- You didn’t think of yourself as too memorable of a person during high school. You’re boyfriend disliked it even more, a scowl etched into his features- He didn’t like not being in the know or what exactly the man meant.

“Well, it’s a small world I guess,” you wrapped up awkwardly, “It was nice to see you,” you added, able to feel Taeyong’s calculating gaze.

Sighing to yourself, you took a sip of your tea, inviting Taeyong to ask whatever he was going to ask.

“Were you popular in high school?”

“No,” you huffed, “Not really anyway- I’ve already told you about my high school- I wasn’t even friends with those guys... I can’t believe he recognized me.”

‘You’re just too pretty to be forgettable’ was what Taeyong had been thinking, but decided to keep it in. He could still feel their fleeting gazes glancing towards you as they sat down in laughter- He didn’t like that... What were they talking about? You? Were they laughing about you? Who knew what prude remarks they were making.

“I’d have dated her back in junior year if I knew she was gonna turn out like this-”

Feeling jealous, protective, and anxious he stood, causing you to look up at him, “Where are you going..?”

“Bathroom,” he informed before bending down, his hand coming to cradle your jaw as he sealed your lips together in a sweet kiss- Lips tasting of caramel.

Your lips followed his own as he drew back, swiping his thumb endearingly across your cheek before giving it a gentle pinch. You pulled your face from his grasp at the action, playfully pouting at your cup of tea as he left the table.

“I know right-”

The voices got louder as he approached.

“Could you keep your voices down?” he asked, yet it wasn’t really a question- His tone and gaze icy and curt before he brushed past their table to the restroom.

Yuta:

Tossing in jealous Yuta because that’s hot-

You didn’t have to be dating Nakamoto Yuta for him to feel as strongly as he did. He felt like you were already his, his sweet, his dear, his precious- And he wasn’t going to let the world or anyone else take that away from him. You loved him as a friend- The two of you had crossed the boundary of friendship a few times with late night kisses and drunken texts- But there was something about his possessive nature that made you hesitant to progress any further with him. Just being his friend you felt like a prisoner-

“I have to drop by my brothers’ dorm to give him back his battery pack-” you began, halting as you remembered.

“I’ll go with you,” Yuta chimed, slinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as his other hand pulled the drawstrings of the hoodie harshly, causing it to close around your face.

You stumbled into him mid-step as he did so, whining dramatically as your hands attempted to shove him aside.

“My brother doesn’t like you,” you interjected, pulling the hood free from your mess of hair as Yuta released you.

With a shrug he focused his attention on taming your hair, the action causing your face to heat.

“You shouldn’t go into the boys dorm alone,” he reprimanded, motherly as ever.

Jaehyun. Your brother’s roommate and soccer teammate of Yuta- was coming down the very path you were on the quad.

“Jaehyun!” you called out suddenly, happy to find a delivery man.

His eyes darted from his phone to you, his brows knitting together seconds later-

“Hey,” he began, slowly letting his gaze drift between the two of you before to your hoodie.

“Uh... Is that your hoodie?”

“I stole it from my brother- Don’t tell,” you chuckled.

Letting out a soft chuckle of amusement, Jaehyun shook his head, “That’s not your brother’s- That’s mine. I’d been looking for it all week-”

“Oh my God!” you gasped, dropping the tote bag from your shoulder, “I’m so sorry! I- It was on his side of the room... So I thought-”

“It’s fine,” he interjected, “It looks good on you-”

Yuta’s gaze narrowed at that remark and before he even had a moment to stop you, you were peeling off the hoodie and offering it to an astonished Jaehyun. You saw no issue with it, you were wearing a t-shirt underneath.

“I’m so so sorry! Also...” you began, picking up your bag, “Could you give this to my brother?”

“Sure-” Jaehyun nodded, scratching the nape of his neck as you pushed the goods into his hands before whipping around and grabbing the side of Yuta’s plaid jacket to bring him in tow with you-

“O my God... That was so embarrassing-” you rambled, feeling your face hot in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Yuta’s feet stopped moving, causing you to stop. He removed his phone from the pocket of his jacket before slipping it into his jeans, removing his coat.

“What are you doing?” you asked dumbly before catching on, “N-No, I’m not cold or anything-”

Silently, he draped it over your shoulders before his hands slid to the open front of it, grasping it before pulling you closer by the collar. His lips melded with your own, needy and passionate, jealousy brewing in his heart at even a simple encounter. His hands slid down to the zipper, zipping it quickly as he pulled away, your arms constricted, a smug expression on his face before he began walking again.

“H-Hey! GET THIS off me!” empty sleeves flopping by your sides as you hobbled after him.

The type to give you a little taste of his cold shoulder and reprimanding you for being careless [about making him jealous basically].

Kun:

Respectful and mature bub who wouldn’t do anything unless the two of you were dating, and for a while.

He couldn’t understand why Xioajun was so clingy towards you- I mean... He understood it in a sense since he was also in a way- But it was different. You were taken- Xiaojun should have taken a hint from him by now. Kun was constantly swooping in to interrupt the too of you, the hint of a small grin gracing his features each time to hide his unkindly thoughts towards the younger.

“Does Xiaojun bother you?” he questioned, watching as you pulled on your socks from the doorway of your bedroom, his shoulder resting against the frame.

“No?”

Cocking your head to the side, you couldn’t understand what Kun was hinting at or why he was asking.

“He’s always around you...”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “We’re friends.”

You stood, ready to pass by your boyfriend and slip on your shoes by the doorway, yet he didn’t budge.

“Well...” he began, “I don’t want to sound ...clingy, but I don’t like it-”

“There’s nothing to worr-”

You were mid-roll of your eyes, when he cut you off, his warm hand enveloping around your own, “You’re mine, right?”

There was a hint of something swimming in his chocolate gaze, as if a saddened part of him needed reassurance.

“O-Of course,” you admitted, blushing to yourself from feeling caught off guard.

“Then I have a right to be like this,” he added, voice softer.

You open and shut your mouth dumbly, not sure what to say in response. Yes? He to a degree had a right to feel jealous- But... There was really no reason to be jealous over Xiaojun- Tugging your hand forward gently, he drew you to meet his lips, lilting his neck down. His kiss was delicate, lips plush and substantial, but movements gentle and loving. Your knees felt weak, as if it was your first kiss again.

“Don’t worry about it,” you nearly whispered as he drew back, “I’ll try to be mindful,” you added, referring to distancing yourself a bit so Kun wouldn’t get the wrong impression again.

“We’re going to be late...”

Doyoung:

You drew back to take a breath before your lips were smothered again, his nostrils flaring in anger and also the need for oxygen. You whined gently against his lips, attempting to pull back once more. You panted, out of breath before placing a hand on Doyoung’s chest to keep him at bay.

He leant back over the center console, resting his head back against the padded seat. Finished clicking in your seat belt you looked at him.

“When you dress like that,” he began, nodding forward, “guys get the wrong idea.”

“N-”

“Like thinking you’re single and something for them to ogle at,” he added, cutting you off, “You have no idea what kind of sleaze bags were looking at you and what they were thinking-”

His fox-like eyes flickered back to you, taking a moment to glance at the obvious cleavage you’d put on display.

“I dressed up for you- I just… I wanted to feel sexy and make you-”

“Make me what? Upset?”

“No! Proud to be with me- To be attractive to you…”

Raking a hand through his hair he let his gaze fall upon your own.

“Don’t you get it?” he began, jabbing the keys into the ignition, “You’re always attractive to me- I always want you- I’m always proud of you- But I want to be the only one to see.. You don’t deserve them looking at you like that and it makes me sick,” he trailed off, quickly casting his gaze forward as he pulled away from the curb.

You felt a tingle jolt along your spine at his words.

Ten:

He’d been giving you a snarky attitude all day; curt remarks and dismissive glances. Sighing for the final time as he pretended to ignore you, you let your tongue poke at your cheek in annoyance.

“Look at me,” you probed.

His fingers halted before smashing the pause button on his game, tossing the controller aside him on the sofa as he let out his own sigh, his gaze continuing to be fixed upon the TV screen.

“Why are you being like this?”

You hated how beautiful his profile was, the slope of his sharp nose and outline of his soft lips.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?” you added, raising your tone.

“If you want someone to talk to why don’t you ask Taeyong?” he quipped, voice laced with venom.

Huffing in exasperation, you let your hands fall to your hips.

“Are you serious?”

Finally… he turned his dark gaze towards you.

“Yeah,” he nearly shrugged, attitude as petty as ever.

“You’re such a child!” you shouted, unable to control your emotions as you stormed away, frustrated and wanting to cry.

He paused for a moment before standing.

“I’m childish?” he asked, tone brazen and perplexed.

You stopped, turning on your heel-

“Then what?” he questioned, “Is Taeyong the man?”

Before you could spit out a reply he grabbed onto your elbow.

“I’m the only man you should see,” he barked.

“You are my only man…” you murmured, hurt he thought otherwise.

Cupping your face, he pulled you into him, lips messily finding one other before passionately embracing.

Omg I hate this one…

Jaehyun:

Far enough. Was what Jaehyun had been thinking.

His jaw was set, his lips pursing each time his eyes narrowed slightly, causing one of his dimples to gently show.

Sure, it was Taeyong’s birthday, but that didn’t mean he had the right to flirt with you-

“Is that right?” you giggled, after listening to one of Taeyong’s stories.

Your fork idly toyed with the pasta in your dish as you gave Taeyong your attention. The rest of the lunch table seemed chatty, side for Jaehyun whom pouted by your side. His silence was slowly steeling your attention away from Taeyong as you began to worry.

“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment,” you interjected, glancing towards the bathroom.

Your plan was simple, take a break from Taeyong by using the restroom before retuning and turning to Jae to give your attention and ask what was up. As you stood Johnny began speaking to Taeyong, allowing you the perfect cover to escape. As you did, someone snagged you by your belt loop. Your forlorn boyfriend looking up at you with eyes you couldn’t place.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you whispered, your brows furrowing in concern at his oddness.

He released you, standing himself to follow you.

“Why are you being so weird?” you inquired, rounding a corner with him.

“I’m jealous,” he admitted.

“Wh- How? What’s there to be jealous about?” you stumbled.

Instead of answering or explaining, he cornered you against the wall once the two of you were hidden from sight in the hall of the bathroom.

“Babe,” you began, your voice lowering.

Being under his gaze in such close quarters you felt trapped, trying to think of what he’d want to hear to be reassured. You bit your lip in thought. Warm lips clashed with your own, not too aggressive, nor gently. The breath that had gotten caught in your throat came out as a sigh against his lips as his hands slid from the wall on either side of your shoulders to your hips.

“We can’t do this here,” you nearly whispered, your lips brushing his own in temptation.

Ignoring you, his hasty lips met yours again, causing you to let out a small moan of protest.

“Oh- God-” Ten sputtered, shielding his eyes from the entrance of the hallway as he saw the two of you.

Your fist came in contact with Jae’s pec as he broke away from you.

...When you came back to the table you could feel everyone’s gaze upon the two of you, lowering your gaze in embarrassment as Jaehyun wore a smug grin.

Win:

Cold shoulders were never fun, especially when dealing with your best friend Sicheng. He sat several rows in front of you in the lecture hall instead of beside you, scrolling through his phone and clearly avoiding your texts. You bit your pen cap in annoyance as you stared at the back of his head.

“Maybe they broke up-”

It was a hushed whisper, but you were able to here it.

“Just go talk to her-”

Evidently Sicheng heard it too, his thumb having stopped scrolling and his ears perked.

“Hey,” a gentle voice said, taking the seat beside you.

“H-Hi,” you fumbled, baffled as to why Mark Lee was sitting next to you.

“This seat’s not taken, is it?”

“No,” you enunciated, making sure it was clearly loud enough for Sicheng to hear in an attempt to be petty.

“Cool- Well, uh, there’s this party at Alpha Delta Si later,” he began, “If you wanted to go, you could be my plus one- Honestly, we’ve had this class together all semester and I thought you were cute-”

You were flattered by his invitation, but frat parties weren’t really your scene.

Glancing over his shoulder at the encounter, Sicheng was caught by your gaze.

“Oh- Uh, I’ll have to think about it, parties like that aren’t really my thing-” you declined politely.

“O-Oh,” Mark nodded, retracting to his seat in thought as the professor entered.

The entire lesson you and Sicheng fumed with thoughts of each other, unable to concentrate. The lesson seemed to end in record time, not that you were paying attention.

“So, um, if parties aren’t your thing we could do something like uh... get ice cream, or-”

Once you’d stood to stuff your belongings in your bag, Mark was back at it again. However, your sleeve was yanked by the ever so thoughtful Sicheng, pulling you from the row and tugging you up the stairs of the lecture hall. You stumbled after him dumbly until he shoved the door open with such force you were scared for a moment.

“Stop-” you shot, pulling from his grip.

“Was I interrupting something?” he asked bitterly.

“What the fuck is your problem? I thought you-”

You could feel the gaze of several classmates in the hallway, feeling embarrassed. Behind you, Sicheng saw the door of the lecture hall swing open with none other than Mark and Jeno, his eyes narrowing as he caught Mark’s gaze. Swooping in, his hand clamped over your forearm to pull you to meet his lips, his blunt nails digging into your sweater. He was overwhelming, figure looming over your own, hasty lips pushing against your own, you felt lost in your shock.

Jungwoo:

“Let me up,” you huffed for what felt like the fifth time.

A hum of disapproval left the boy who’d constricted himself around you.

“Woo- I’ll be late for my shift...” you tried, sighing to yourself.

“Don’t go,” he murmured.

“I have to go- My supervisor will be mad if I’m late again...”

“Your supervisor,” he began, sitting up, his fluff of hair bouncing, unfit of his narrowing eyes, “I don’t like him.”

“It doesn’t matter if you like him or not-”

You struggled in his hold, but he draped a leg over your hips to bar your escape, hugging you closer.

“He’s creepy.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed with an airy chuckle, “But that doesn’t matter, I need to keep my wage-”

Rolling on top of you, you let out a whine under his weight. Cutely, he blew the hair out of your face, not daring to remove his hands from wrapped around you for fear of you escaping. You giggled and writhed at his actions, shaking the hair from your face. He plopped a soft kiss upon your lips, smothering your own before drawing back momentarily.

“Don’t go.”

His lips didn’t give yours time to spit out a retort, softly melding with yours with passion. Had it been any other day or any other occasion, you would have skipped whatever event there was to stay with him, but you couldn’t miss today... Shaking your head to shake his lips off your own, he groaned against your lips, unrelenting. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of anguish against his lips, following it with a low whine. He bit your lip in retaliation gently, shifting on top of you as you squealed and wiggled beneath him.

“You’re being childish,” you gasped, nostrils flaring with the need for air.

Lucas:

“Baby-”

Yukhei’s deep voice reverberated through your being as his lips brushed your ear.

“Why are you watching that?”

In your defense, you hadn’t searched for it, rather it was in your suggestions and you just so happened to be curious by the amount of views it had. A Doyoung, Boss focus cam- Nor were you expecting your friend-with-benefits to be up so early... He usually slept well past ten.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you partially lied.

“Do you like him?”

“Uh,” you stalled, glancing over your bare shoulder, “It’s not like I know him-”

“I mean,” he corrected, “Do you think he’s sexy?”

Your expression morphed into one of confusion at his most likely horny what-the-fuckery.  If you said yes would he set up a threesome?

“Yeah.”

A warm hand slid over your bare arm, trailing to your shoulder before moving to your throat. He didn’t like that answer- Though the two of you weren’t official, he had real feelings for you- Which is why he called you baby, and told you to stay the night when you’d start searching for your clothes the night before...

“What about me?” he groaned gently.

Dropping your phone aside, you rolled over to your side, your hand going to his wrist to stop the growing pressure he applied.

“Yeah, you’re sexy,” you rolled your eyes, knowing he was immaturely jealous.

“Am I sexier?”

He drew you closer, his nose brushing against your own as he awaited your answer.

“I’m not sure,” you teased, withholding a giggled at how his eyes widened.

He let out a chuckle too, able to catch onto your teasing attitude.

“I must be since I’m the one with you and not him,” he muttered with a smile, rolling over on top.

His lips claimed your own in an arduously slow kiss, his hand fumbling to reach over and turn off your phone.

Mark:

Alone, in bed, on his phone- Mark’s evening was rather bland. He’d been on a call with you while you’d been getting ready to come over, content with just listening to your voice.

“Why do you take so long to get ready?” he questioned with a sigh, “Just come over already.”

“I have to look good,” you countered, “You said Johnny was home...”

And here it was, the recent reason for Mark’s despise of Johnny Suh, one of his closest friends.

“Bro- So what... You’re coming over to see me, not him-”

That was true-

“Yeah, but if I do see him-”

“Whatever, just hurry up,” Mark complained, his tone snappish as he hung up.

It was hard getting friend-zoned, let alone having the girl you like be into your best friend instead.

Fifteen minutes later you were checking your reflection on your phone before the door, collecting yourself before ringing the doorbell.

Answering it, Mark felt his heart clench- You looked ridiculously cute, glossy lips, curled lashes, slight wind-blown hair, and the oversized Puma hoodie you’ d bought last week to match your leggings. He wish you were getting all dolled up for him, causing a pang of jealousy to stab him.

“I’ll pay for delivery since you paid last time,” you remarked, stepping through the doorway to remove your shoes as your eyes searched for the giant of your affection.

Yet he was nowhere in sight... Making your way to Mark’s room with your bag, dropping it to his bed and plugging your phone into his charger. You heard the distinct sound of the refrigerator opening, bottles rattling- Perhaps it was Johnny. Turning on your heel, you planned upon seeing whom it was, but a Mark Lee was blocking your path, having just entered the threshold of his room.

“Lemme see,” you pried, your brows furrowing as he closed the door behind himself.

“It’s Taeil,” he lied, knowing what you were after.

You still wanted to check for yourself, even give the senior a greeting.

“Uh, let me through,” you paused as Mark remained in his spot.

“Why’s it always go to be about him?”

“I- What do you-”

“You know what I mean,” he interjected, raising his voice, “All of a sudden everything’s about him-”

“That’s not true,” you tried, folding your arms defensively.

“Yes it is,” he retorted, taking a step toward you, his bad attitude and mood nearly radiating off his figure, “We can’t even hang out like we used to because you’re always preoccupied with him-”

“I can’t help that I like him!” you shot back.

It took only another step and Mark was in front of you, his hands flying to grip your shoulders as his nose brushed yours for only a millisecond- You couldn’t contemplate what was taking place and before it registered, his lips were on your own, sticky lip gloss transferring.

#nct #nct imagine #nct reaction #nct scenario #nct angst #nct u #Yuta imagine #Yuta reaction #ten imagine #ten reaction #ten angst #Yuta angst #maybe??? #kun imagine #jealous nct #mark angst #jungwoo fluff #lucas angst #yukhei angst #jungwoo imagine #kungwoo scenario

[irwinkitten]

i know you know | c.h

pairing: reader x calum prompts: “That is the dumbest thing you have ever said.”, “You’re so cute when  you’re drunk.” and “You drove all the way here just to bring me soup?” notes: we are on day 2 of the birthday countdown of fic week! i’ve honestly been having so much fun writing these. this one is just sweet sweet fluff that will rot your teeth. Small masterlist of the fic week can be found here. warnings: none word count: 1.7k!

---

You knew that Calum wouldn’t be mad at you. It was a rare time in LA when the temperature had dropped enough to be considered cold and it was your bad luck that you got sick.

You knew he’d planned something special but with every part of your body hurting, you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it off your bed, let alone out of your house.

‘I know you had something planned but I can’t move without hurting. Sorry :(‘

Your eyes had tiredly watched the grey bubble appear, focusing on the movement. You didn’t even notice your eyes were slipping closed.

Your phone dropped to the mattress just as Calum’s reply came through, a soft snore escaping your lips as his text lit up the screen.

‘I’ll drop by after practice and look after you. That way you might actually eat something.’

When Calum had finished up at practise for the day and shown up at yours, he let himself in with the key you’d given him six months after you’d gotten together. He’d done the same a month later, gifting you with a key to his place.

As he manoeuvred through your place, he dropped the carrier bag containing the various soups he’d picked up for you, leaving them on the side for the moment before he continued his search for you.

Cracking open your bedroom door, his heart melted at the sight of you curled on your side, your phone in the empty space where he’d usually be. Moving slowly and carefully, he moved your phone from the bed before sinking down into it, feeling amusement flood him as you turned towards him, your arms seemingly searching for him.

“Hey princess.” He murmured when your arm had wrapped around his waist. It took you a solid moment to realise that Calum was actually sat there.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Your words were half slurred, exhaustion evident as you pressed yourself into his side. He smiled.

“You’re so cute when you’re drunk.” He teased as you fought to keep your eyes open. You groaned at him as your face buried into the pillow, making him chuckle.

“M’not drunk, asshole. M’sick.” You grumbled softly and he let his fingers trace against your cheek slowly, his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Why’re you here? Don’t want you gettin’ sick.” Despite your words, you leaned into his touch.

It was always like this with him, unable to resist the smaller touches the two of you shared. It was a side that he showed only for you, and it was a side of him that you cherished. Many of your favourite nights had been just lay together, hands skimming over the other as you watched a sitcom or had soft music playing as you quietly talked about your days.

“My favourite girl is sick. The guys can survive without me for a few days.” He whispered, lips lips pressing against your forehead.

“You’re gonna get sick.” You groaned and he snorted before shaking his head.

“Even if I do, it just means we can be sick together.” His words made you blink for a second, trying to process what he actually said. He raised an eyebrow at you before you lifted your hand, placing the back of it against his forehead, before moving to his cheeks.

He laughed before his arms circled around you, pulling you closer to him and you groaned in protest.

“That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, Hood. I thought I’d gotten delirious from fever for a second because it sounded like you’re trying to get sick just for an excuse to stay with me.”

Calum grinned as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you tried to pull away, determined to not get him sick.

“C’mon princess, is it not the best idea in the world? It means we can both cuddle together, although I’m going to cuddle you regardless.” His grip tightened around you and you knew in that moment that any argument you had was lost.

Especially when he pushed his lips out into a pout and you whined in return.

“You can’t do that to me Hood. You know I’m a weak ass bitch for that pout.” You muttered and you could see that he was fighting the smile, his lips twitching before he gave in, a laugh escaping his lips seconds later.

“It’s only fair, considering I can never say no to you, love.” He murmured. This time, you didn’t fight him as his lips met the skin of your forehead and you sighed in response.

“Get out of those jeans, no, nothing like that.” You added on hastily at the smirk that rapidly spread across his lips. “You’re in skinny jeans, dumbass. If you want to snuggle, get changed into something comfy and I might consider cuddling.”

Calum finally let go of you, pushing himself off the bed before rummaging through the drawer of stuff he left at yours. Whilst he was getting changed, you half dragged yourself from bed, your body protesting the movement as you shuffled through to the kitchen.

Getting yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you tried to gain your breath, you felt somewhat ridiculous.

You could feel the few beads of sweat and you felt like you’d run a mile. Your body was protesting, your joints aching as you downed half the glass. You suddenly realised why Calum had been so insistent on staying with you and when he appeared at the kitchen doorway, with a raised eyebrow and his arms crossed over his chest, you could only give him a sheepish smile in response.

“I was thirsty?” You tried, your tone quiet. The unimpressed looked you received in return had you glancing down at your feet.

A sigh followed before fingers were tucked under your chin, tilting your head up. Your eyes met his and he gave you the briefest of smiles.

“Let me look after you, princess. You’re not well. I already warned the guys after I got your text, so they know I’m skipping out on practice for the rest of the week. If I get sick because I’m looking after you, then it just means more days in bed with you.” He murmured and you sighed, your body relaxing into his.

“Sorry, I just feel bad that you’re looking after me.”

“Does it look like I’m not okay with it? Princess, I’m wounded you’d even think that. I even brought you soup.” He teased playfully. “I’m fine with looking after you and it means more time with you. Who wouldn’t say no to that?” Calum hummed quietly and your eyebrows rose up slightly in amusement.

“So you drove all the way here just to bring me soup?” He groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re impossible. Here I am, trying to tell you that I want to look after you and all you can pick up on is that I brought soup over. Is there a receipt around somewhere so I can take you back to the store?” You giggled, your hands resting on his chest as you tilted your head a small fraction, your lips meeting his. It was a short, sweet kiss, causing his lips to break out into a shy smile and his arms moved so that they were wrapped around you, pulling your body flush against his.

“I love you so much, you know that right?” He murmured. Your heart skipped a beat every time he told you. Whether it was during or after sex, on quiet drives around the city at night, on hikes up the local hills with Duke in tow, it never failed to make your heart flutter.

It was the soft moments you shared when he murmured those words to you that you loved. It was just you two, and a love that you held so carefully because the heart in your hands had been hurt before. And so when he first said those words after a night spent at his and you’d been trying to cook breakfast for the two of you, you dropped nearly dropped the pan because you’d been so caught off guard.

He’d laughed seconds later when you muttered “I love you too, but we’re going to have issues if you don’t help me clean the mess you helped cause.”

But in this moment, full of a cold and he was still saying those words that made your heart swell.

“I do know it. And I know that you know I love you just as much.” You murmured in return and his lips curved up into a cheeky grin.

“Someone’s been watching too much FRIENDS.” You snorted at that.

“No, I’m just feeling delirious and exhausted. Wait---Cal!” You protested as he picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist so the two of you wouldn’t tumble to the floor.

“Princess, you looked like you were going to pass out when I got to the kitchen. I wasn’t about to make you walk back to your room.”

You groaned, but didn’t protest any further as he dropped you on the bed, ditching the shirt he was wearing and despite the beautiful sight before you, a groan escaped your lips.

“I swear to god, if you even utter anything along the lines of sex is good when you’re not well, I will take your soup cans and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine.” You warned him and he laughed as he tossed his shirt onto his pile of clothes before crawling into bed beside you.

“I promise you, I won’t try anything unless you want it. But I know you like tracing my tattoos, even when you can’t see them. So I figured it’d be a small thing to make you feel somewhat human.” If your heart wasn’t melted already, it certainly was now.

As you settled yourself into his side, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I really do love you.” You murmured softly as his arm wrapped around you, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“I love you too, princess.”

---

tag list: @cals-babylons , @glitterprincelu , @calumspeachy , @wrappedaroundcal , @cosmocalum , @mistletoemichael , @talkfastfletcher , @hereforlukescruff , @astroashtonio , @catchinqcalum , @roselukes , @5saucewho, @babylon-uncrowned , @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind , @therainydays4 , @asht0ns-world , @silverchainbee , @hidd3nfangirl , @doodleasouarus , @empathycth , @mylovehes , @songforhema , @kinglyhood , @youngblood199456 , @makecoffeenotwars , @5squash , @negative-love , @softboycal , @kinglycalum , @you-of-ghost , @meetyoutheremgc , @lmao5sosimagines , @lietoash , @aw-hawkeye , @biggestslutforcalum , @drummerboy794 , @itjustkindahappenedreally, @mycollectionofnuts , @coreybryanttrash , @abitloudforanaccousticset , @boytoynamedcalum , @teampreator , @dukehoods , @dweebluke , @calumhampton , @lashtoncurls , @toofadedtofight , @gigglyirwin , @blue-skies-are-alright , @hearts-to-the-sky , @tiddlerrr , @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you , @thesensationalcalum , @ashtxns-hxe , @cakeassx-blog , @dancingonanemptywallet , @rotten-kandy , @vipclifford , @musiclover1263 , @rosecoloredash , @jpgluke , @cathartichaoss , @5secondssofssummer , @cozyfivesos , @balsamichood , @cliffordstxngue , @lukesbellas , @myloverboyash , @cxddlyash  , @gabiatthedisco , @rosesfromcth , @gorgeouslygrace , @glitterlukey , 

#day two of fic week and i am still loving it #calum hood blurbs #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum hood fic #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5sos fics #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer blurbs #5 seconds of summer fics #my writing #birthday fic week

[shels-kpop-main]

Moments, part 11

Word Count: 3146

Warnings: None. A little angst and fluff so soft

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think! Things will be heating up in the next chapter, but I had to get this last bit of fluff out of my system. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

You stayed in Roger’s room the rest of the night, leaving only to retrieve the plate of food from the living room table. Upon returning with it, you set it on the bed between yourself and Roger, and the two of you shared it. After eating, the two of you stayed up talking for several hours. When you finally reached for Roger’s wrist to check the time, it was almost one in the morning.

But you didn’t leave. You just wove your fingers through Roger’s, and laid over. He did the same, and you fell asleep there. Curled up and facing each other, with your hands meeting in the middle.

You woke up to bright sunlight coming in through the window. You were still laying above the covers, but a wool blanket had been thrown over you and tucked under your feet. Your hand, previously holding onto Roger’s, was now loosely curled around his collar, the backs of your fingers pressed to his chest. You inhaled deeply, still half-asleep, but awake enough to appreciate being surrounded by things that smelled like Roger. Including Roger, who was still sound asleep across from you.

He had an arm draped over your waist, and the other rested next to his face on the pillow. You slowly pulled your hand from his shirt and touched his cheek instead. His face was warm to the touch, and smooth. You brushed your thumb softly from side to side, and this was enough to stir Roger a little. He opened his eyes slowly, only about halfway. His hand pressed to your back a little more firmly as he smiled.

“Morning, love.” His voice was husky from sleep, but it was offset by the look in his eyes. You twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers, and scooted a little closer to him.

“Good morning.”

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, before you got up to go change. You smiled at Roger’s groans of complaint when you rolled out of bed. When you emerged from his room, still wearing your clothes from the night before, you looked down the hallway before hurrying up the stairs. The house was quiet, and it seemed that everyone had gone downstairs for breakfast already.

Which was good; you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. God forbid someone see you coming out of Roger’s room in your clothes from the previous day and think you’d slept with him. It wasn’t anyone’s business, but knowing the guys, they’d tease you both out of the county for getting caught on a walk of shame.

The following week passed in a blur of messily-written new songs, a fresh series of photo prints, and many, many stolen kisses from Roger. He’d often pull you aside after dinner to press a trail of kisses from your mouth to the collar of your shirt. If Roger ducked outside for a smoke break during recording sessions, you’d grab him by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

You’d somehow managed to never be found during these moments aside, but the guys weren’t stupid. They noticed the light smear of lipstick on Roger’s mouth when he came back inside. They noticed the looks you two shared over the dinner table. But you didn’t care. Being around Roger was the closest thing you had ever experienced to happiness with another person.

And however much you didn’t care, Roger cared even less. He mentioned your photography to the guys frequently, telling them about a particularly good (“bloody brilliant, you guys!”) shot you’d taken during rehearsals. He asked Deacy for advice on how to formally ask you out, to which Deacy rolled his eyes but told Roger everything he had done successfully with Veronica.

So, five days after he first kissed you by the fence outside the farm, Roger came to your door with another bouquet of dahlias.

“These are beautiful, Roger. Thank you.”

You beamed at the pretty, pink blooms in Roger’s hand and leaned in to kiss him. He accepted the kiss gratefully, immediately leaning down to you. You fidgeted with his collar, reveling in the sweet and smoky taste that you’d come to associate with Roger. You pulled away to take the flowers to the vase atop your dresser, smiling to yourself.

Roger closed the door behind him while you fiddled with the flowers. When you turned back to him, he was running a hair through his hair nervously.

“Something on your mind?” You raised an eyebrow and walked back over to him. Roger let out a breath, and shoved his hands in his pockets. His body language was starting to make you nervous, and you folded your arms.

“Yes, actually. I, uh… Whew, sorry,” Roger chuckled nervously. You must have looked concerned, but Roger’s face softened, he quickly reached forward to rub your arms.

“Everything’s alright, love,” he assured you, hands settled at your elbows. You gave him a half-hearted smile, still afraid of what he might say next.

“I just haven’t done this in a while with someone I care about,” Roger explained. You were just confused at that point, and waited for him to finish. His hands fell back to his sides.

“I, uh… I wanted to know if you’d like to go to dinner with me?” Roger rushed through the last few words, and it took you a moment to process what he said. But then, when his words hit you, you burst out laughing out of sheer relief. Roger gave you a confused frown, his eyebrows slanting with concern. You placed a hand on your chest, as if to steady your rapidly-beating heart. But then you flung your arms around his neck and kissed him fully.

“Roger Taylor,” you laughed, pulling away, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“What, what’d I do?” Roger smiled a little, putting his arms around your waist. You shook your head, grinning up at him.

“You got all serious, and scared me!” You answered, giving him a light shove to the chest. Roger laughed, and a light blush came to his cheeks.

“Well, I was nervous! Been a moment since I’ve properly asked a girl on a date!” Roger replied, pulling you closer. Your hands fell to his collar, as they often did when Roger was holding you close like that. It was cathartic, in a way, to play with the fabric while you talked to him. It was grounding for the both of you.

“Did you think I would say no?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. Roger shrugged, clasping his hands on the small of your back.

“Well, not necessarily,” he smirked. You shook your head at his cockiness, smiling coyly. But Roger became serious again, brows furrowing.

“So, is that a yes?”

You rolled your eyes, and moved your hands up to weave into his hair.

“Yes, Roger,” you kissed him, “I would love to go to dinner with you.”

So Roger took you into town the following night, insisting that you both dress up for your first date. It was incredibly endearing to watch his face light up when you came down the stairs in your only formal dress. It was a navy blue cocktail dress, and although it wasn’t your favorite look, it gave you great joy to see Roger’s mouth fall open. He fidgeted with his cuffs a little as you approached him, and the thought of this cool, arrogant rock star being nervous for a date made you smile.

Roger drove you to a swanky restaurant in town, telling you to wait while he jogged around the car to open your door for you. The meal went well, and the two of you stayed there, talking and drinking, until well after dark.

You were happy. You and Roger still hadn’t slept together, at his behest, but you hardly had time to be annoyed with him. The two of you spent your free time walking around the farm, arms around each other, talking about anything that came to mind. Late nights stretched into early mornings, with you and Roger usually falling asleep in your room.

At some point, Roger had brought his guitar up to your room, to play you a new song he was trying to write. You loved the song, but sleep overtook you as you lay sideways next to him while he played. Roger simply leaned his guitar against the chair your camera was sitting on, and laid down next to you, falling asleep shortly after.

But those idyllic days on the farm were numbered. And you both knew this. But still, you and Roger enjoyed the bucolic lifestyle that came with staying at the farm.

One day, as the completion of the album drew nearer, you were sitting in the studio box with your camera as the guys recorded in the live room. The phone next to the soundboard rang between takes, and the audio engineer reached over absentmindedly to pick up.

“H’llo? Uh-huh. Yeah, she’s right here.” And with that, the guy handed you the phone and returned to his work. You frowned, holding the receiver, unsure of who would be calling you. But when you pressed your ear to the phone, a familiar voice crackled across the line.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God. Why haven’t you called me?” Your mom sounded fretful. You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Hi, Mom.”

“It’s been two weeks since you’ve called. I was worried sick!”

“I’m sorry, Mom, it’s been crazy here. I didn’t mean to worry you. Did Uncle Jim tell you about my photography?” You attempted to deflect, but your mother was worked up, and ignored your question.

“And when are you coming home? You’ve been there for two months.”

“I don’t know, Mom. Wasn’t the whole point of staying here, to get away from everything?”

Your mom huffed out a sigh. “Well, yes, for a brief escape. Not to just move to England forever!” You rolled your eyes, already finding the conversation overlong.

“I’m not gonna be here forever,” you replied, exasperated. “It’s just that I’m waiting to hear back from the record company. The band’s manager wants to use my photos to promote the album, and they’re going to call any day. To tell me which pictures they want to use,” you trailed off, hoping your mom would appreciate the good news. But she was determined to be upset.

“Have you taken any classes?”

“I—well, no.”

“Gotten a job?”

“Potentially, weren’t you listening?” You were starting to get annoyed.

“It just seems too good to be true. If they like your pictures, what then? You just stay there, with the rock stars? Living in a dream, like you’ve been doing?”

For some reason, that statement really bothered you. Maybe you were just irritable at being faced with reality. Maybe it was the tone she took, or the way she worded it.

But you found yourself more determined than ever to make something of this getaway. Because your time on the farm had become meaningful to you. It wasn’t just an escape. You weren’t just living in a dream.

You were recovering.

Recovering from the shock you’d undergone at the loss of your dad. Recovering from the shift in your worldview. Recovering from the guilt you’d piled on yourself since that day in the hospital room with the beige floors.

“You know what,” you began, through gritted teeth. “It is like living in a dream. I have friends here now. I have Uncle Jim. I have—”

You looked up at that moment, to see Roger in the live room. He was saying something to Brian, a wide smile across his face. The sight of him brought you out of the haze of anger, and you experienced a splitting moment of clarity. No matter what, being here was worth it.

“I have everything I need here,” you finished, in a gentler tone. Mom exhaled, and you heard it, miles away, across the Atlantic.

“You’re living in a bubble, Y/N. Please come home.”

The sincerity of her tone caused you to falter. Your eyelids fluttered as you pulled your gaze away from Roger. He was joking with Freddie, who was doing a ridiculous pose on the drum risers.

“I will, Mom. When I’m ready.”

“Okay. I love you,” she replied, sounding defeated.

“I love you, too,” you said flatly, and hung up.

You had forgotten you weren’t alone until the sound engineer gave you a concerned side eye. You folded your arms.

“Sorry, Todd. Don’t tell anyone?”

The sound engineer named Todd nodded as he fiddled with the switches on the board. For all his stoicism, you were certain he could keep a secret.

“Thanks.” You left the building with tears in your eyes. Roger looked up toward the control room just as you picked up your camera. He could tell, even at a distance, that something was wrong. He knew your face well enough to tell that you were trying not to cry. You avoided looking at the guys as you exited the control room and ducked through the door without a word.

You were tired of being a mess in front of everyone, so you resolved yourself to sobbing out your frustrations in your bedroom.

Roger was staring at the door the entire time he played, even as the band finished recording their song. He wanted to go after you, but wasn’t sure if you wanted time alone. The guys noticed the funny look on his face, but didn’t say anything. When the session was wrapping up, Brian finally spoke up.

“What happened with Y/N?”

“God knows,” Freddie said, not really paying attention. He was still sitting at the piano, scribbling something on a loose piece of paper. “Anyone up for drinks in town?”

Roger ignored Fred’s question, looking from Brian, to Deacy, to the door you’d exited. Deacy had enough of Roger’s cluelessness, and broke the silence. “Oh for God’s sakes—go after her, Roger,” he told Roger, exasperated, pointing at the door. “See if she needs anything.”

“Right,” Roger responded quickly, rushing to get around his drums. Deacy rolled his eyes, but his heart was warm. Roger’s intentions were good, even if he needed a little encouragement sometimes. He found you in the attic, trying to fix something on your camera that wasn’t broken. By the time you walked to your room, the lump in your throat had disappeared. But you were still uneasy.

“Hey, love,” Roger’s soft voice hummed through the wide room.

“Not now, Roger.”

“Yes, now,” he insisted stubbornly. You frowned at him, still holding your camera.

“What happened?”

“My mom called.”

You were met with confused silence from Roger.

“She said I’m living in a dream, that I can’t stay here forever,” you sighed. It seemed this sentiment had not occurred to Roger either, and his face fell. But after a moment of thought, his eyes sparked.

“Maybe not, but that’s not the end of things. We can make it work,” he told you, looking hopeful and a little excited. You frowned at the floor, then at the Nikon in your hands. Before you realized what you were doing, you pulled the camera to your face. It created a barrier, gave you some control.

But through the lens, you saw Roger sigh and step nearer to you. He reached out and gently pushed the camera down, away from your face. You frowned, refusing to make eye contact.

“Don’t hide. You were so certain before. What happened to that?” His voice was low, gentle. It made you want to cry again.

“My mom,” you answered bitterly, looking him in the eyes. But Roger was confused, and stayed silent.

“She’s got a point, Rog. We’re living in a bubble. Eventually, I’m gonna have to go home, and you’re gonna have to tour.”

“Well, she’s half-correct,” Roger admitted. You frowned, unsure of his meaning. “You’re gonna have to go home at some point. And I’ve got the band. But,” he continued, pulling your camera out of your hands slowly. He set it down on the chair next to his guitar, then returned to you.

“That doesn’t mean we’re living in a bubble right now. This is happening.” He took your hands in his, squeezing them gently. You stared at his fingers, lost for words.

“Hey,” he pulled one hand away, and used it to tilt your chin up. The feeling of his fingers on your face sent tingles down your spine. You stared hard at him, trying not to be emotional.

“Please don’t be sad,” he urged. When you said nothing, Roger released your hands and crossed the room to your dresser. There, he smiled at the most recent flowers he’d given you. They sat in a blue vase, next to your pictures. But between them, sat an old radio. It was a little dusty, having gone unused in a house full of live music.

But Roger turned it on, and tuned it to the first clear station he could find. The small speakers crackled to life, filling the attic with a slow, bluesy song.

I’ve found my thrill On Blueberry Hill When I found you

“Dance with me,” Roger told you, holding out a hand and doing a ridiculous bow. You rolled your eyes, but felt the sting of anxiety fading. So you took his hand, and put your other arm around his neck. Roger was a decent dancer when he wasn’t trying to act a fool, and he guided you in slow circles across the room.

The moon stood still On Blueberry Hill And lingered until My dream came true

The lyrics were sweet, comforting. The melody, coupled with Roger’s fingers drumming softly on your waist, turned your mouth up at the corners. And, without warning, Roger began to sing along, swaying you side to side a little.

“For you were my thrill,” he sang, to your giggling. “On Blueberry Hill…”

You were smiling wide and bright by the time the song ended. Roger finished the dance with a small flourish, lifting your hand and urging you to do a small twirl. Which you did, much to his delight.

Roger grinned at you as he released your hand. You rubbed your arms, and stepped back to him. The next song began, an upbeat swing bop.

“Feel better?” He asked, looking genuinely hopeful. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around you in one of his characteristically comforting hugs.

“Yes,” you mumbled into his shirt. Roger kissed the side of your head, still tapping the beat of the last song onto your waist.

“Good.”

“Thank you,” you pulled back to look at him. Roger answered with a peck to your lips, and a wide grin.

“Any time, love. Can’t have my girl worried.”

Taglist:

@ceruleanrainblues @pietrorunsforme @isabella-bby @todorokis-nipples @killerqueenbucky @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @kenzie-belle @shewantstobreakfree @ishouldbedoingalright @fangirlpterodactylnoises @itssaje @aceslytherinpan @youmakeme-wonder @smilinghardy @dreamer821 @musicprincesslikestorock @fangirlcore @loveofmyloif @mydogisthebest @onevisionliz @benn-seguin-1491 @happy-at-home @rogerinaismyqueen @imamazzellhoe @strawberryfields-forever @letmelivetaylor @boozeleatherandstache

#moments series #moments part 11 #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor x reader #fluff #shut up shelby #ben hardy #bo rhap

[today-we-will-survive]

meet me in the tree house

Moodboard made by @snowflakeu25

BTS au-imagine

Yoongi x Reader Y/N

fluff, romance

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: This was a request from @snowflakeu25 💜

Three knocks on his studio door.

A gruff voice, muffled by the walls enters your ears and you twist the knob and push into the room with your hip since your other hand is preoccupied carrying a shallow box of takeout containers. A boy sits in a computer chair facing a mountain of recording equipment. Speakers jut from the two corners of the ceiling. Three large monitors sit atop the mountain, an expanse of panels, keyboards, knobs and sliders filling the valley below. At the sound of you entering the room, he turns around, his mouth twitching into a quick smirk before his eyes fall to the food in your hands.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” Yoongi replies spinning around fully to face the coffee table as you set the box down on its surface.

“Working hard?” you ask and take a seat on the leather couch that sits adjacent to him.

Yoongi stretches, arching his back and raising his arms in the air with a groan. “Always,” he says. “Chinese?”

“You know it.”

The two of you are quiet for a while as you work at getting all of the take out containers open and onto the coffee table. Then you pass him a pair of chopsticks before taking your own pair and grabbing the closest container. You’ve watched Yoongi become a big time producer, his songs winning award after award. You’ve seen him on tv, standing on stages, making speeches, wearing designer clothes and being adored by people that don’t know him.

Yet every Wednesday, you come to Bighit, the security guard giving you a smile and a nod of recognition and you take the elevator up to the fourth floor, carrying take out, walk down that hallway lined with albums that have gone gold and platinum before reaching the studio. And there you find him, in his baggy sweats and baggy shirt, sometimes a beanie to keep his hair out of his eyes and he’d turn and greet you with that same tired smile. He’s never treated you different. He’s never let the fame get to him. Probably because he knows how far of a fall it would be back to the bottom where he started if he were to let it all go to his head.

You moved to the city not long after Yoongi got the job at Bighit. The two of you have been best friends since you were in fourth grade, when he moved into the house next door to yours. He had a tree house in his backyard that you had been eying for a while and when his mom had forced him to come over and ask you to play, you’d been ecstatic to finally be able to see the inside of it. It was as cool as you’d thought it would be, and that was where you’d spend a lot of late nights during the summer.

As you got older, the tree house transformed from a playhouse to a safe house. If your parents were fighting or lashing out at you, you’d send a quick text to him asking him to meet you there. And by the time you climbed up the rope ladder, the hatch would already be open and Yoongi would be waiting for you, his ears open to listen or his arms open to hold you, whichever you needed. Usually, it was both.

Once he moved away after college, there wasn’t much left for you in your small town, so you followed him, getting a job in the city and hanging out whenever he was free. Which wasn’t as often lately.

“So what have you been working on?” you ask before shoving a piece of orange chicken into your mouth.

Yoongi perks up, swallowing his mouthful of food before spinning to face his desk again. “Tell me what you think of this. Then with a couple clicks of his mouse and a press of a button on one of his keyboards, the room fills with music.

You close your eyes so you’re not distracted by anything and listen to the steady rhythm as it builds. After a few measures, Yoongi’s familiar voice starts in, delivering the deep lyrics he’s become so well-known for. You can feel the smile spreading your mouth as you listen, your head automatically bobbing to the beat. You’re really enjoying the song when suddenly it cuts off and you open your eyes to find Yoongi looking at you, his hand poised on his keyboard. You frown.

“What did you stop it for?”

“I just wanted to give you a sneak peek. You can’t hear the whole song until the mixtape is done.”

“Mixtape?” you ask as your smile returns.

Yoongi smiles back and looks down at his hands shyly. “By the way, I’m making a mixtape.

You let out an excited squeal, reaching out to hit his arm over and over, his smile growing bigger with every hit. “Are you serious?” you finally ask when he’s rolled out of your reach. “You’ve been wanting to do a mixtape forever!”

“Yeah,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve finally gotten some time to work on it so I’ve been kind of messing around, writing some stuff.”

You pick up the container of pork fried rice, poking at it as you shake your head. “I’m really excited for you, Yoongi. It’s going to be amazing.”

“I hope.”

“It will be,” you say. “You’re crazy talented.”

Just then you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket and when you reach for it and look at the screen, you can’t help but smile. The room is silent as you type a response to the message you received.

“Who has the audacity to interrupt our Wednesday night dinner?” Yoongi asks jokingly as he wheels back over and swipes a container off of the coffee table.

You send the message and set your phone onto the table before taking another bite of rice. “Just a guy I’ve been talking to,” you say. “Sorry.”

Yoongi blinks, obviously caught off guard by your response. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I didn’t know you were talking to someone.”

“Yeah,” you say with a shy smile. “I met him at a party last weekend and, I don’t know. We got to talking and now we’ve been texting each other a bit.”

Yoonig lets out a grunt, suddenly very interested in the container he’s holding.

“I don’t know,” you say again. “I think I’m finally in a place to start wanting to date again…you know, after everything that happened with—”

“Y/N,” Yoongi says cutting you off. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about him. I’m glad you’re able to move on now. I’m happy for you.”

You tilt your head as you study your best friend. His words sound genuine but the sentiment doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Thanks,” you utter. You hear your phone vibrate against the coffee table and you watch as Yoongi’s gaze falls to it for a split second before focusing back on poking his chopstick into his food.

*

*

Y/N: So Chinese again tonight or something different?

Yoongi: Ive got a lot of work to do tonight. I dont think I can hang out.

Y/N: Oh ok. See u next week then?

Yoongi: Sure.

*

*

Y/N: Hey, did u want to go out tonight instead of me bringing something? Theres a new ramen place I wanted to try.

Yoongi: cant hang out tonight. Busy.

Y/N: …ok. Next week then? I miss u.

Yoongi: Sure.

*

*

Y/N: ok. Im kidnapping u tmrrw night. I kno u dont rlly like going anywhere on Wednesday nights since u hav to work but we havnt hung out in like 3 weeks and I want to take u to see this new horror movie with me. And I kno that telling u Im kidnapping u kind of negates the whole “kidnapping” thing but I kno u dont like surprises.

Yoongi: cant.

Y/N:…really?

Yoongi: Sorry. I have to work.

Y/N: man…ur working a lot lately, arnt u?

Yoongi: its my job, Y/N. Maybe next week.

Y/N: Next week Im going to be back home to visit some family.

Yoongi: oh ok.

Y/N: Whatever, Yoongi. If u dont want to hang out anymor, just say it.

Y/N: Or dont. Whatever.

*

*

Yoongi: hey

Yoongi: Y/N

Yoongi: I know ur mad at me but please respond.

Yoongi: Y/N I was just being an idiot.

Yoongi: Y/N

Yoongi: Please talk to me.

Yoongi: look, I kno ur reading my texts and I kno u probably wont respond but if u end up seeing this, please meet me in the tree house in like twenty minutes. Alright? Thats where Ill be. I need to talk to u.

*

“The tree house?” you utter as you re-read his last text. As in the one at his parent’s house? The one that’s over an hour away from the city the two of you live in now?

You’re at a family dinner at the moment but you’ve all already eaten and now your parents are just talking to your aunt and uncle and though you’re a bit reluctant to actually meet up with Yoongi (since you’re still pretty pissed at him for ditching you for the past three weeks) he’s the perfect excuse for you to duck out early. And you do just that, saying goodnight to your extended family before telling your parents that you have to run but you’ll see them back at home later. Then you head out before anyone can argue.

It’s about a thirty minute drive from the restaurant back to your house. You can’t even bring yourself to pretend to feel bad for making him wait those ten extra minutes wondering if you’re even going to show up. It serves him right. The two of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember and have been doing Wednesday night dinner together ever since he got the job at Bighit. After all this, he decides he’s too busy to hang out? He’s never been too busy. Has the fame finally gotten to his head?

A terrible thought occurs to you as you pull into the driveway at your childhood home. What if he wants to meet you to break things off? To tell you that he doesn’t have time for friends anymore. That you shouldn’t come around anymore because it’s interfering with his work. That he’s outgrown you.

With an angry jerk of the stick shift, you jam your car into park and turn off the engine, yanking the key out. You can already feel yourself getting worked up as you slam the door and stomp across the yard to Yoongi’s house. When you get through the gate and enter the backyard, your eyes trail up to the tree house where it resides in the tall maple in the middle of the lawn. The sun is almost all the way set and the sky is already turning a medium shade of blue. It’s getting dark fast and you can see golden light filtering out of the windows in the tree house. He’s there. Good.

You take a deep breath then make your way up the rope ladder. This was a lot easier when you were younger, and smaller, and you can’t help but wonder how much longer this rope will even hold. With that thought, you scurry up the last few rungs, hoping the whole time that it won’t snap on you. Then, when you poke your head up through the hole, your eyes fall on Yoongi.

He’s laying on his back, hands on his stomach and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. At the sound of your arrival, he turns his head, his gaze locking with yours.

He sits up quickly. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

You back away from the hole in the floor until your spine rests against the wall. “I wasn’t going to but it was an excuse to duck out of dinner early.” You cross your arms. “What are you even doing here, Yoongi?”

Your best friend gets to his feet. “I wanted to talk to you about…everything.”

“Well?”

Yoongi sighs, bringing up a hand to scratch behind his ear. A nervous tick you’ve always thought was a bit endearing. “I guess I just got kind of…jealous.”

Um…

You stand there against the wall blinking for several seconds, not really sure if you heard him right. “Jealous,” you finally say. Yoongi nods. Your brow furrows and you let out a humorless laugh. “I’m sorry, Mr. Big-shot producer, what the heck would you be jealous of?”

As if on cue, your phone chimes in your pocket and Yoongi’s eyes fall to the outline of it against your thigh. You’ve still been talking to that other guy from several weeks ago and now it kind of dawns on you, just what Yoongi is jealous of. The two of you lock eyes again.

“Yoongi…”

The apples of his cheeks dust a light pink, contrasting against his pale mint hair and he shifts on his feet. “No, it’s stupid. I shouldn’t have been like that. Not when I’ve never even told you how I feel. I just wanted you to meet me here so I could tell you that I’m sorry and I want to keep doing our Wednesday night thing and you can text that guy all you want. And I know you don’t need my permission but I’m just letting you know that I won’t be a jerk about this. And I won’t start acting all weird. Date him. Marry him. I’ll still be your best friend as long as you want me to be. And if you don’t, I understand that too because what kind of person freezes their best friend out over another guy? You’re more important to me than that and…Y/N?”

His words finally trail off when he looks up and realizes you’ve been standing there gaping at him the whole time. Your heart is in your stomach and your breaths have become shallow. Are you having a panic attack? Here? In Yoongi’s tree house? In front of Yoongi?

“Y/N?” he asks again.

“What did you say?” you utter.

“What?”

“What did you say?” you ask louder. “Just now. What did you say?”

Yoongi fumbles with his hands for a second, running his fingers through his hair and switching his weight to his other foot again. “Uh…that you’re my best friend?”

“Before that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Before that.”

“I was being stupid?”

“After that.”

Yoongi bites his bottom lip, the pink in his cheeks becoming darker. “…that I haven’t told you how I feel?”

“Yeah,” you say. “How do you feel, Yoongi?”

“I feel like…” he takes a tentative step toward you, keeping his eyes locked on yours even as the blush spreads down to his neck. “…like I’ve been in love with my best friend for the past five years.” He takes another step toward you. The tree house isn’t very big so even after just these two steps, there’s only about a foot of space between you now. “How do you feel, Y/N?” he asks, his voice much lower than it was before. You peer up at him, heat creeping up your own neck to settle on your cheeks.

“I…uh…I—” your phone chimes in your pocket again and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath. “Give me two seconds,” you whisper then pull your phone out of your pocket with trembling fingers and check the screen. Yoongi leans in a bit to peek too. “It’s my mom,” you say and you hear him chuckle under his breath. “She wants to know if I want them to pick up ice cream on their way back.”

“Do you?” he asks leaning in more, his dark eyes now drilling into yours. You’d back up if you could but you’re already pressed against the wall.

“Do I what?” you ask him.

He hesitates for just a moment, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Want ice cream?”

You both know that’s not the question he’s really asking and for a split second, your eyes dart down to his lips. You pull your own into your mouth as you try to conjure up the words. You’re already a flustered mess with this boy so close to you, looking at you the way he is, his body heat radiating across the small space between you.

“Of course I want ice cream. I frikin’ love ice cream.”

The tension in the small space seems to burst as Yoongi falls forward, his head landing on your shoulder and laughter bubbling up out of him. You can’t help but laugh too as you feel his shoulders shake against yours and then he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to keep either of you from tumbling to the floor. The room is filled with your giggling and tears have sprung to your eyes and finally, once the muscles in both of your stomachs are good and sore, he lifts his head back up.

The laughter dies down as the two of you lock eyes again. You watch with bated breath as he reaches up to brush the hair back from your forehead, his fingers sliding down the side of your face and lingering on your jaw. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he utters.

You don’t even hesitate to nod before he closes the small gap, his lips moulding to yours along with the rest of his body. His one hand tightens on your waist and the other slides to the back of your neck and then he’s tilting his head to kiss you deeper. Of course, then your phone chimes AGAIN causing him to jump back with a small gasp.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your head swimming as you look down at your phone still in your hand. You look back up at Yoongi again. “Flavor?”

Yoongi stands there breathing hard for a second, staring at you as he processes your question. His tongue flicks out of his mouth for just a second. “Chocolate,” he finally says breathlessly.

You type the word as fast as you can, getting frustrated when you keep screwing up, before hitting send and dropping your phone onto the rug. Then you reach out to grasp Yoongi by the shoulders, pulling him to you once again.

*

*

“Just listen to this one,” Yoongi says as he pulls you back down into his lap.

The computer chair creaks under the weight of the two of you and you grip the arms to keep from toppling over. “Yoongi, I have to go. I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

“Just this last one,” he says and slides the headphones back onto your ears. You’ve tried taking them off for the last five songs but every time you do, he wants you to listen to just one more. This is the last one, I promise.

“Yoongi, you’re really making me seem like a jerk of a girlfriend that doesn’t want to listen to your music.”

“But you do want to listen to my music, right?”

You smile and reach up to touch your palm to his cheek. “Of course, I do,” you say. Yoongi’s mouth lifts into a gummy smile as he nuzzles your hand. “You know I’m your biggest fan.”

“I know,” he says with a contented sigh.

He’s too perfect for his own good. So talented and so soft lately. Yoongi has always been more on the reserved side. Never cold but a bit closed off, even to you. But ever since the two of you talked—if you can even call it that—in the tree house, everything has changed. He’s revealed a different side of himself to you. A softer side. A happier side. You can hear it in his music, too. How happy he’s become.

“Alright,” you say. “Just one more.”

Yoongi claps excitedly before pressing a button on his keyboard and then settling back in under you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your arm. He loves watching your expression as you listen to his music. Loves seeing how it affects you, loves seeing the uncensored reaction. He knows you’ll always be honest with him, because you want him to give his best. Besides his colleagues, you’re the only one who’s opinion he trusts.

As you listen, Yoongi starts playing with your fingers, pressing the pads of his own against yours so you mirror his movements, and then when he glances at the screen and sees that the song is almost over, he slides his fingers through the gaps between yours and locks your hand in his. You knew he wouldn’t let you go after this song.

You shake your head until the headphones slip from your ears. “Yoongi,” you say.

“Just one more,” he says quickly and releases one of your hands to pull the headphones back up.

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[inyournightmares97]

My Youth (Chapter 6)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, death, angst, slow build, maybe some language.(Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 5.7k+

(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5)

“-Mom, I’m busy,” Jinyoung muttered into the phone. He had been sitting in a crucial meeting with the Finance Director of GOT Tech and representatives of the Financial Regulatory Board. Receiving approval for his company to go public was one of the most critical and risky steps in Jinyoung’s career.

His mother, however, had been calling him constantly for the last twenty minutes.

Mrs. Park sounded upset. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung, dear. I just needed to reach you-”

“Mom, I’m in an extremely important meeting right now. Do you know how it looks when the Managing Director of GOT Group keeps getting calls from his mother during business meetings? What do you want from me?” Jinyoung demanded in a frustrated whisper, running his fingers through his hair. He tried not to let his agitation show on his face; the other high-profile attendees of the meeting could still see him through the glass wall of the conference room.

“Jinyoung, there’s been a terrible tragedy in town,” his mother began nervously. “I don’t… I don’t know how to tell you this, but i suppose there’s no easy way to talk about a death.  Remember I told you that I’ve been going to the hospital every day to meet-”

Jinyoung felt a burst of irritation. The clock was ticking. The Board members were waiting for him impatiently and he could see the disapproval on their faces. “Mom, did you call me to tell me that someone died?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Mom, I have been preparing for this presentation for months. The future of my company depends on this meeting. This is absolutely the worst time you could have chosen to tell me something like this,” Jinyoung muttered through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Please don’t mess up my focus right now. We can talk about this later. Do you need anything from me urgently?”

Mrs. Park hesitated. “You always seem to be busy these days. I just thought… if we could maybe help out with the funeral expenses or the hospital bills…”

Jinyoung closed his eyes. “Mom, you can just call my secretary for that. She’ll send you whatever amount you need. Send them flowers from me or something, okay? I have to go now.”

“Take care, Jinyoung, dear-”

“Bye, Mom.”

Jinyoung hung up and sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. His personal secretary had followed him out of the room and was watching him nervously. He hadn’t even asked his mother who it was that had passed away. Was it somebody he knew? Maybe it was best that he didn’t think about it too much for now.

“Take my Mom’s call and ask her who died, send them money for the funeral and all those formalities,” Jinyoung told his secretary shortly. She nodded and made a note of it on her phone quickly while Jinyoung cleared his mind.

Focus. The presentation. The numbers.  

Jinyoung took a deep, calming breath and plastered a rehearsed smile on his face before he turned to enter the conference room once more.

“I’m so sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting,” Jinyoung greeted all the well-dressed men with a bright smile. “I hope you can forgive me. Mothers seem to have a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times, don’t they?”

The men chuckled politely. “That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Park.”

“May I begin the presentation?”

“Please, do.”

--------

Jinyoung believed that to achieve something great, you needed to make certain sacrifices.

He had always known that the path he was embarking upon was not an easy one. Establishing your own business meant that you didn't get off work at 5 pm sharp, you couldn’t spend your weekends at a countryside cabin or getting drinks with your friends. You needed to keep working until things got done. You needed to compete in the market. You needed to be strong enough to pick up after your losses and clever enough to make friends in the right places. People were depending on you.

Jinyoung hadn’t merely chosen a career, he had chosen a life.

A very lonely life.

Whenever his mother would call him and try to have a casual chat, Jinyoung would find himself irritated. Who cared whether Mrs. Lee from the grocery store was giving a discount on strawberry bread? What did it matter if Mr. Cha had been trying to sell his little farmland? There was important work to be done. Jinyoung needed to talk to the advertising agents to make sure his products were being launched properly, he needed to negotiate discounts with suppliers to ensure he could meet the planned pricing goals. There were employees relying on him. There were investors who had trusted him with their money. There were quarterly goals that had to be met.

Every second of Jinyoung’s time was precious. Why couldn’t everyone understand that? Why couldn’t his mother stop thinking that her tiny little world in this tiny little town was everything, and understand the importance of what her son was doing?

There are a limited number of hours every man has at his disposal. We each make a conscious choice regarding how to spend each one.

It was only now, standing in front of your mother’s grave, that Jinyoung came a terrifying realization.

He had made the wrong choices.

------

“It was heart failure,” Mrs. Park whispered.

Jinyoung’s hands clutched the cup of tea firmly. It was hot and uncomfortable, but not more than the sick feeling in his stomach. Every word his mother spoke made him feel more pathetic.

What had he been doing all those months while your mother was in hospital and when she’d died? Preparing for his company to go public? Sitting in meetings and sucking up to corporate officials? Only to be fired and thrown out of the company. Only to have missed the death of somebody who had trusted him and cared for him.

“But she couldn’t have been that old…” Jinyoung muttered.

Mrs. Park shook her head softly. “She’d always had a weak heart, Jinyoung. Her health was fragile and after her husband passed away she had no choice but to work to support her daughter. All those long hours and late nights for years… they took their toll in the end. She had her first stroke three years ago. She was in hospital for a few weeks and then she had the second one; the one that took her life.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes, remembering your mother in his mind’s eye.

“She always looked tired. And worried.”

“She was.” Mrs. Park reached out and placed a hand over her son’s nervously. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung. I should have told you about it sooner. But you were always so busy in Seoul, always doing important things. It never seemed like the right time to tell you about something so devastating. It’s my fault.”

Jinyoung let out a small scoff. “Don’t take the blame on yourself. That doesn’t help me.”

Mrs. Park looked upset. “Jinyoung-”

She was interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. Jinyoung closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple while he listened to his father go to the door and yell at the person on the other side. The reporters had already found his home address. They had started arriving one-by-one since this morning. Each of them desperately wanted an interview with Park Jinyoung, the man who had lost his empire overnight. They wanted to know what he had to say about his dismissal from his own company.

Mr. Park re-entered the living room and sighed. “They’re getting more persistent. I think I should call the local police before they start trying to shove their way into our house.”

Jinyoung nodded and stood up. “I’ll go down to the police station myself and ask them to send someone to deal with this harrassment. Mom, you’ve told everyone we know to deny any reporters who request them for an interview, right?”

“Yes, but is it really a good idea for you to be going outside now-”

“I think I’ll lose my mind if I stay indoors,” Jinyoung muttered. He grabbed the black hoodie that was slung over the back of the sofa and glanced at his parents. They were both looking at him with wide, worried eyes.

Jinyoung felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him; why should they have to deal with so much because of his mistakes? Why was he always the one taking and yet never giving?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I’ll try and be back for dinner.”

------

Jinyoung’s legs carried him naturally towards the elementary school.

Perhaps it was a subconscious urge to see you, even though he had no idea what he would say if you really appeared before him. Anything Jinyoung could have said to help should have been said three years ago. Words like I’m sorry seemed like an insensitive joke at this point; too little and far too late.

Jinyoung sat silently on the bench by the schoolyard with his face covered by his dark hoodie, and wondered how his life had brought him to this point.

Left with nothing with shame.

“Ahjussi!”

By the time Jinyoung looked up, there was already a tiny figure running straight towards him at full speed. He flinched and braced himself for the impact; only to have the small boy stop centimetres away from him and throw his arms around him happily. Jinyoung stiffened.

“What-”

“Ahjussi, you are Park Jinyoung!” Ki-woo cried delightedly. The boy was beaming. Jinyoung noticed for the first time that one of his front teeth was missing, but it was still one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. “Miss told me yesterday! Why did you lie and say you weren't? I can’t believe the King of the Playground walked me home after school and I didn’t even know!”

Jinyoung couldn’t resist a small smile. The sight of the little boy bouncing on his feet warmed him for a moment and he patted Ki-woo on the head. “If somebody asked Clark Kent if he was Superman, he wouldn’t say yes, now would he?”

Ki-woo’s eyes widened in understanding. “Wow. That’s so true! You’re so cool!”

“You’ll have to keep my secret.”

“Of course I will! Ahjussi, can you tell me how you did it? How did you manage to climb the oak tree?” Ki-woo demanded, grabbing Jinyoung’s arm and tugging on it eagerly. “You have to tell me, you just have to! Were you really tall?”

Jinyoung blinked. “Tall? Not particularly…”

“Then how? How did you do it?”

Jinyoung opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by a loud yell. He had been so preoccupied with Ki-woo that he hadn’t noticed the much larger man that was making his way across the school yard. Jackson Wang had a huge smile on his face and without greeting, he threw his arms around Jinyoung in a fierce hug.

“Park Jinyoung! Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!” Jackson cried happily. He pulled back and noticed the blank look on Jinyoung’s face. With a frown, he pointed to himself eagerly. “Remember me? Jackson! Jackson Wang! You used to pass me all the answers in History class!”

Jinyoung swallowed. “Uh…”

“Mr. Wang, you’re friends with Park Jinyoung?” Ki-woo asked, his mouth gaping open.

Jackson blinked and looked down at the boy sheepishly. “Ah, Ki-woo. I didn’t see you down there. Didn’t your teacher tell you to wait inside until someone came to pick you up? Go back indoors now.”

Ki-woo pouted. “But-”

“Nope. Back inside. Now.”

Jackson waited until Ki-woo began to slouch back towards the school building and then turned back to Jinyoung. “Man, you’re pretty much the celebrity around these parts now, eh? We had a couple of reporters come by the school this morning, asking for anyone who used to know you. You have nothing to worry about! I scared them off. These babies aren’t here for nothing,” Jackson beamed and flexed his bare bicep.

Jinyoung didn’t really know how to respond. “Nice.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You do remember me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course-”

“We should get drinks sometime and catch up now that you’re back in town! Man, I really owe you. You did me a solid one that Christmas before you left, remember? I’ll buy you a couple of beers at the pub. What’s your phone number?” Jackson demanded.

“I don’t really have a phone right now…”

“Don’t have a phone?” Jackson looked confused. “Weird but okay. I guess I can always ask Miss First Grade to get in touch with you. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me you were back in town!” he cried, slapping Jinyoung’s arm playfully. “Hold on… you’re here to see her, aren’t you?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Not exactly…”

Jackson chuckled knowingly. “No worries, man. I’ve got your back. I need to go inside and take care of the kids now, so I’ll tell her to come out and meet you here, yeah? Let me know if any more of those reporters come around. I’ll take handle them for you!”

Jinyoung forced a smile. “Thanks-”

“No problem, man. It’s what friends are for. We’ll catch up soon!”

“Sure.”

Jinyoung watched Jackson half-run back to the school building, letting out a sigh of relief. Each person he came across in this town seemed to remember something about him and the one who possessed the most dangerous knowledge was Jackson Wang. In addition to having been the resident supplier of inappropriate magazines and the one who’d convinced Jinyoung to try his first cigarette behind the park back in high school, Jackson simply knew a little too much about everybody.

Jinyoung sat down on the bench and took a deep breath. He just realized that Jackson had said he would send you out to meet him. Why hadn’t he told him not to? He wasn’t prepared to face you. Idiot.

It was a few minutes before you emerged from the school building and walked towards Jinyoung. There was a pleasant smile on your face as you approached, and it made Jinyoung’s stomach turn. How could you smile at him like that? How could you be so calm about everything?

“Jinyoung,” you greeted him, confused. “Should you be roaming around out here? There are reporters buzzing all around town.”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Uh. Yeah, I know. Jackson said he drove them away...”

You rolled your eyes. “That idiot Jackson Wang? He was fully prepared to seize his five minutes of fame by telling them how you used to help him cheat in History class. I had to step in and force him to deny the request for an interview,” you muttered. Jinyoung’s eyes widened and you gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I sent a message to the principal of the middle school and the high school. Nobody’s going to give any interviews about you.”

Jinyoung felt small.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Did they find your house?”

“Yeah. They’ve been knocking the door all day. It’s really starting to bother Mom and Dad.”

Your expression was sympathetic. “Should I call the police?”

“Don’t worry. I was going to go down to the station myself and ask them to send someone to get rid of the reporters,” Jinyoung reassured you. He felt his heartbeat thump wildly as he looked at your gently smiling face. Should he say it? Should he talk about the elephant in the room? Even though he hadn’t prepared what to say?

“About… about last night…”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He sighed. “About your mother. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I know that’s no excuse, but I should have been there and-”

You cut him off with a forced smile. “Jinyoung. It’s okay. It’s not like you could have done anything for her even if you were here, you’re not a doctor. Everyone did the best they could.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I might not have been able to help her. But… I should have been there for you.”

The smile dropped from your face. What could you say? Jinyoung’s eyes were filled with shame but it wasn’t the right time for him to be offering condolences. That time had long passed.

But you still remembered his words from last night as he’d hugged you. I don’t feel as alone when I’m here. Jinyoung had been through so much. How could you say anything to such a broken man except for it’s okay? How could you offer him anything but comfort when he had nobody but you?

How could you not be the bigger person when he was suffering?

“It’s fine, Jinyoung,” you promised him softly. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“How can I not-”

“Seriously. Please. It’s in the past and nobody was to blame. It happened around the time your company was going public, so I can only imagine how chaotic your life and work must have been back then. I don’t resent you.”

Jinyoung looked up at you in disbelief. “How can you not?”

“I just… don’t. It’s fine.”

“Do you really mean that? Do you really mean that?” he demanded.

“I do,” you insisted firmly. You glanced at your watch and sighed. “Wow, it’s getting late. We have a PTA fundraiser at school tonight so I need to start setting up. Oh! Did you bring my bicycle by any chance?” you asked him hopefully.

Jinyoung shook his head. “Uh, no. The reporters were in front of my house so I slipped out through the back…”

“Can you drop it by the school later? I’m going to staying back pretty late because I have to wrap up after the event is over. It might even take till midnight and the buses stop running at 9 so I need a way to get home. It’s not too much trouble, is it?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off here later.”

You gave him a small smile as you turned to go back indoors. “Bye, Jinyoung.”

“Bye.”

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

The PTA fundraiser left you drained of energy.

You would much rather have dealt with a hundred kids at once than with a handful of parents. At least kids could be made to see reason, they could be convinced with a little bit of logic (however flawed). Adults, on the other hand, believed that they knew best and that things had to be done exactly the way they wanted. Adults were unreasonable. Adults liked to throw around their authority.

You had never wanted to get into bed so badly.

You stayed back late to clean up after the fundraiser was over. It wasn’t required of you, but it was something that you somehow ended up volunteering to do. All the other teachers had families to go home to and kids to take care of. You only had an empty apartment.

Asking them to stay back instead of you felt selfish.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged out into the parking lot to see that the bicycle racks were empty. Shit. Had Jinyoung forgotten to leave the bicycle behind for you? Where was he?

You pulled out your cell phone and then sighed. Damn Park Jinyoung. He didn’t even have a stupid phone. It was far past the time that Mr. and Mrs. Park would have gone to bed and you didn't want to wake them by calling them. But your apartment was too far to walk and you would have to pass by the pub; you had no interest in meeting the town’s drunkards alone in those narrow alleys  at midnight.

You sighed and dialled another number.

“Jackson, hey. I’m so sorry, I know you just left a little while ago, but…”

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

It was 1am when you heard a loud banging on your front door.

You had just finished taking a shower and were getting ready to slip into bed when the noise began. Your heartbeat racing, you grabbed hold of a kitchen knife quickly and then slowly approached your door.

“Who’s there?” you yelled out, voice shaking.

The voice that replied was muffled. “Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung? At this time of night?

You opened the door carefully. The first thing that hit you was the awful smell; Jinyoung stank of sweat and cheap beer. His eyes were red and his face flushed as he looked at you almost wildly.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders to look at you properly. His hands were trembling and he seemed unaware of how loud his voice was. “Are you all right? I was looking for you everywhere!”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Wow, you’re drunk.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry- I’m so, so, sorry-”

“How about you come inside before you bring my neighbours running over with all of your noise?” you snapped. You had little patience for drunks, and knowing that Jinyoung had been out getting drunk instead of returning your bicycle did not please you. “Where have you been?”

Jinyoung stared at you helplessly, his arms waving around as he spoke. “I-I was just going to get one drink, I swear. But it led to another and I totally forgot about your bike and I was so scared that you might have walked home because I know that path passes by the pub and it’s not safe-”

“Relax,” you told Jinyoung as you guided him gently towards your couch. “I didn't walk. I called Jackson, he drove me home.”

“Jackson? Wang? Why? Are you guys close?” he asked, plopping down heavily on the couch.

You shrugged. “He’s a good friend.”

Jinyoung paused for a moment and then hung his head quietly.

“We used to be good friends.”

You looked down at Jinyoung properly. He was a wreck. His dark hair was a tangled mess and the light blue dress shirt he was wearing was wrinkled with a beer stain on it. There were even large sweat stains under his arms; he’d probably cycled all the way here in a panic.

And he’s one of the Most Eligible Bachelors under 40. If only the magazine had seen him like this.

“We’re still friends,” you told him lightly. “Although it wouldn’t do any harm to return my bicycle when I ask for it. Do you want a glass of water?”

Jinyoung blinked at you dazedly. “Do you have beer?”

“Absolutely not. Haven’t you had enough?”

His lower lip pouted slightly as he stared down at the floor. “I’ve been drinking all evening but I haven’t reached the point where I feel good or forget about my problems yet. In fact, I keep thinking about them even more. How about a cigarette?”

“You will not smoke in my house,” you told him with a firm glare.

To your surprise, Jinyoung suddenly smiled. It was only a gentle curve of his lips but you spotted it and frowned at him with your arms folded across your chest. “Are you feeling proud of yourself right now? Do you think your behaviour is something to laugh about?” you demanded.

Jinyoung looked up at you softly. “No.”

“Then why are you-”

“Because this is the first time you’ve given me that look since I came back,” Jinyoung admitted quietly. His voice trembled. “This is the first time you got angry at me. You don’t seem to get angry at me anymore.”

You didn’t understand. “Why would you want me to be angry at you-”

“Because you have to be angry with someone before you can forgive them. You have to first admit that they hurt you or that they did something wrong, and only then can you begin to repair your relationship,” Jinyoung whispered. He looked up at you and you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. “So tell me honestly. Have you forgiven me already?”

You swallowed. “I was never mad at you to begin with-”

“You’re lying.”

You clenched your fists as your heartbeat thudded. “I’m not lying. You’re drunk. You should drink some water and you can sleep on the couch-”

Jinyoung looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot yet surprisingly clear. “You are lying. Either you’re lying or you’re not the same girl I remember.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because the girl I knew wouldn’t have pretended to forgive a friend to spare his feelings. She would have grabbed me by the shirt, looked me in the eye, and said Park Jinyoung, you’re an absolute bastard for leaving me here when I was having a hard time. She wouldn’t have spared my feelings. She would have expected me to be there for her because that’s what friends do. They count on each other.”

You closed your eyes. How had Jinyoung seen right through you? Even after 10 years, how could he see through you like you were made of glass?

“I’m not angry,” you tried to tell him slowly, even though you weren’t sure who you were convincing anymore. “Because I never expected you to be there. You were busy and I had no expectations-”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You’re lying again.”

“I’m not-”

“You are. Friendship is when you help someone, because you trust that they would do the same for you. What you’re doing for me isn’t friendship. You don’t trust me anymore. If you have no expectations from me, then that’s charity!” Jinyoung spat out. Tears were brimming in his eyes and his voice was choked. “Is that what I am to you? Charity?”

You clenched your fists and let out a small, humourless laugh. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“What?”

“Where the fuck do you get off accusing me of treating you like charity? After what you did?” you snapped.

Jinyoung stared at you blankly. “Tell me.”

Your throat closed up. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to drag yourself back to what had been the lowest point of your life, especially not in front of Jinyoung. You didn’t know who he was to you anymore. How could you open up to him?

“I can’t,” you muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jinyoung.”

“Please,” Jinyoung whispered. “Please. At least tell me I was a terrible friend for not being there. Tell me I was a terrible friend for not even knowing about your mother.”

You took a deep breath and sat down, your knees feeling weak. You had never imagined that you would have to sit next to Jinyoung and say these words to him while he was drunk. Yet, as his dark eyes pierced into yours, he looked more sober than ever.

“It was my fault she died,” you whispered, shakily. “I know how hard my Mom worked to raise me. I know how much she struggled after my Dad passed away. The doctor told me her heart attack was probably caused by stress- years of it. She was growing old but she’d never even gone for a health check-up because we couldn’t afford it.”

Jinyoung stared at you silently.

“I needed someone to say this to back then,” you admitted quietly. “I needed someone who would listen to me and who wouldn’t try to convince me that it wasn’t my fault or that I didn't do anything wrong. That’s what everyone kept doing. They kept trying to comfort me but I just wanted someone who would listen. I wanted you,” you mumbled.

Jinyoung only nodded. His hands reached out to take both of yours. He grasped them tightly.

“I knew you were busy, but I always had this hope that maybe you would come to the funeral,” you whispered. “I thought… surely, whatever I did to make you cut me off, it wasn’t so bad that you wouldn't even turn up to my mother’s funeral. But the truth was that I couldn’t grieve properly because the hospital was hounding me about the bills, I…”

You took a deep breath. You hated thinking about those moments. You had felt so helpless and alone, backed into a corner. “I don’t think it even sank in that my mother was dead until a few days later,” you mumbled. “ I spent the first day wondering how the hell I was going to pay the hospital bills instead of thinking about her. Your mother tried comforting me, she told me it would all be fine and that she would call you for help.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes; tears were clinging to his eyelashes.

“She did,” he mumbled.

You felt the walls around you come crashing down as you looked at the broken man in front of you. You remembered how badly you’d wanted to see him then, how much you’d craved his comfort. You remembered how furious you had been when you realized that Jinyoung had abandoned you.

“I thought you would call,” you mumbled. “I didn’t want to disturb you but at the same time I trusted that you wouldn’t leave me alone at a time like that.”

Jinyoung’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

“It would have been better if you hadn't done anything at all,” you mumbled. “Maybe then I could have forgotten about it in the mess that I was going through. But you didn’t. I got a call from your secretary the night before the funeral.”

Jinyoung lowered his head. His hands were trembling even as they held yours and you could hear his soft sniffle. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Shit, I can’t believe-”

“I thought you’d finally called. But it wasn’t you. I had to hear some strange woman tell me over the phone that Park Jinyoung is sorry he can’t make it to the funeral but he sends his condolences,” you choked out. You smiled humorlessly. “As if I was some distance acquaintance you barely knew. You sent me your condolences through your secretary.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know it was you…”

“And then she told me that if I would just email her a copy of the hospital and funeral bills then all the expenses would be taken care of,” you mumbled. “She said that she could send me as much as I needed, no limit. I was so embarrassed. I wanted-I wanted to tell her that you could go fuck yourself and that I didn’t want your condolences and your money. I wanted to refuse so badly, but…”

You hung your head in shame. “But I couldn’t,” you whispered. “I couldn’t say that to her because it was true. I had no other way of paying those bills. So I sent her the details and I let you pay for them. Whether you know it or not, you paid for all my mother’s hospital bills and funeral while I sat here and wondered how I had become such a worthless daughter.”

Jinyoung’s hands clasped yours so tightly that it hurt. His shoulders were shaking and you could see the sobs racking his chest. “I didn’t mean to-” he sobbed. Jinyoung’s tears landed on your clasped hands. “I didn’t mean to, I swear…”

You slowly removed your hands from his. “I have the accounts,” you muttered. “I’ve been saving up to pay you back. It might take me a few more years but-”

Jinyoung flinched. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not open to discussion, Jinyoung.”

“Don’t say you’ll pay me back, please-”

“I will pay you back,” you said firmly. You took a deep breath. “You know why? Because I might be able to forgive you for not being there when I needed you. But I will never, never forget how cheap I felt the moment I ended that phone call. So don’t talk to me about charity; I know how it feels to be on the other end of it.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes. He felt light-headed and blank as he thought about everything you’d said. No wonder you didn’t consider him a friend. No wonder you couldn't bring yourself to be honest with him. No wonder there was something fake and forced about your every smile.

Jinyoung hadn’t just messed up.

He had destroyed something precious to him without even realizing it.

“It’s late,” you mumbled after a brief silence. “You should go to sleep. Here, just; make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll get you a blanket and some pillows.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I-I can’t…”

“You’re not going anywhere at this time of night while you’re drunk,” you told him. You pushed him lightly so that he leaned back against the sofa. “Stay put. I’ll be back. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight.”

“Can you just promise me one thing?” Jinyoung asked quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Even if you don’t consider me your friend anymore, even if you’re just being nice to me because you’re that kind of a caring person… don’t give up on me completely.” Jinyoung looked up at you desperately. “Please. Tell me that I can fix things. Tell me I haven’t broken our friendship and my life beyond repair.”

You looked down at him. Lying on your couch in his crumpled dress shirt and the beer stains, Jinyoung looked pathetic. Perhaps it was because you’d finally let out all the resentment you’d been bottling up for so long. Perhaps it was because, looking into Jinyoung’s eyes now, you could see that he did care. But you suddenly didn’t feel so hollow anymore.

You didn’t feel so lonely in your pain.

“Everything can be fixed, Jinyoung,” you told him softly.

“Even us?” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Even us.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jinyoung slowly closed his eyes and you went into the other room to get him a spare pillow and a blanket. He let you place the pillow under his head and snuggled into the soft blanket. You turned to switch off the light when you heard him mumble.

“You know something?”

“What, Jinyoung?”

“I thought that the most unbearable thing about being fired from the company was all the effort I’d put into it. I thought I couldn’t bear it because I’d done so much for it for the years,” he said slowly.

You blinked at his curled up figure under the blanket.

“But it’s not?” you asked.

Jinyoung shook his head. “It’s not how much I’ve done for the company that I can’t bear. It’s how much I sacrificed for it.”

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

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #got7 angst #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung angst #jinyoung scenario #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 series #got7 fanfiction #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung my youth

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTERS 10 + 11

we had a week of peace and now we’re gonna get annihilated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have no clue how long this liveblog may end up but hell and high water i’m combining them both

she tore the jade pendant from her neck and flung it into the darkness.

let’s give a warm welcome, to sadness,

i’m very excited for all-new cinder content hhhhhhh if u havent gathered by now I Love This Bitch and I Love Her Many Problems so im thankful for this gift 😞

Cinder was a ruin, her pride carved and served like slabs of meat.

i can FEEL diesel n kc rly patting themselves on the back for every bit of wet meat they can toss at me!!!!!!!!!! U HEAR THAT I CAN FEEL U!!!!!!!!!!! but also i still love this shit w/ all my heart!!!!!!!!!! IM NEVER GONNA STOP SAYIN IT

She had never looked at Glynda’s files.

im so sorry cinder baby but that whole thing? is still HILARIOUS oh my GOD i cannot believe you fucked up that badly. u shoved yr entire head into a beartrap. u absolutely crapped yr pants on that one. yr gonna be thinking abt that on yr deathbed,

/looks at the chapter title again

hhhhhhhh im. so pumped. its gonna be hard to talk abt most of this w/o doing a million fingerguns a minute but i’m gonna try my best

Cinder approached the mirror and touched its silvered face with black-tipped claws,

I SAID IM GONNA TRY MY BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She was iron barbs beneath the nail bed, glowing coals underfoot, the singular capacity to do harm. She was a beast, armed with fang and claw and a deep, dark void where her compassion should have laid, and she was dressed for dinner.

HHHHHH god YES THIS IS THE CINDER IM THIRSTY FOR............ i literally cannot say anything that isnt a massive 👈😎👈 but AAAAAAA

like im reading thru this and i cant cherry-pick lines this whole bit? is SO GOOD...  kc n diesel are Yet Again obliterating me w/ their mastery of the narrative style of offal hunt and i just love all of this i rly wish i could explain how offal hunt is EXACTLY MY BRAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F U C K

The final touch on her mastercraft disaster: the four sawed-off horn stumps which grew among her silver-streaked hair.

HOOOO B O I i am. Losin it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER HORNS.......... CINDR...............

Wretchedly, she wondered: did Glynda even respect her now?

any other villain: my plan didnt work and im mad >:( cinder fall: my plan didnt work and now im mad but also mostly sad :(

CINDER’S TRYING HER BEST GOD.......... i literally hate how the remaster has made her So Soft, Actually... I BELIEVE IN U CINDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YR BEST

Every part of her was hot and hollow. She was sick with loathing.

i LOVE HER.... CINDER I HOPE U KNO THAT YR LOVED... god tho i dont like how SAD I AM RN... cinder’s so small and the world is so big and wants 2 Shit On Her blease

honestly like. im rly- LOOK I SAID THIS BEFORE BUT. this is why im rly lovin the new cinder content because in the first version we only got glimpses of her internal machinations and now we’re in full-blown Always Sad territory and everything is suffering :)

She blinked. Her double did not.

‘well’, thought murphy. ‘that’s terrifying.’

she’d only survived thanks to a keen instinct for danger, cultivated during her tenuous teenage years.

i NEED. I NEED. CINDER BACKSTORY. all these lil nuggets dont constitute a meal! I WANT A BIG MAC AND FRIES. WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS BABY DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also again. the body horror of offal hunt? peak content. Im Lovin It

its getting harder to divine what is and what is not a 👈😎👈 because we got bits sprinkled around and theres only rly a spoiler potential if u glue em all together so im still being extra careful and the answer is blared in everyones faces so this whole kondor scene will go uncommented unless some Bullshit Happens which it will, so,

When she had become so invested in Glynda’s approval? When had a desire to be recognized as something inhuman, something ferocious, something black and terrible and capable of keeping up with Glynda Fucking Goodwitch turned into this?

oh! oh! i have the answer! i do! i know the answer! it’s you a lesbian,

The spectres of her youth haunted this city, owl-eyed children and fox-eared teens. They’d been a second sort of family, the only kind she’d had within these walls, and she’d wondered what had become of them in the past decades, but…

It was too sentimental, and she wasn’t meant to be a creature of sentiment.

oh boy okay wow

okay so actually this bit made me cry??? fuck OFF im losing it!!!!!!!! LET HER BE SENTIMENTAL!!!! LET HER HAVE PPL TO CARE ABT!!!!!!!!!! IM LITERALLY CRYING IM GONNA DIE!!!!!!!!!

She would go barefoot from this point on, her heels clutched at her side. When she left the hotel room to steal into the night, she promised herself not to look back.

im sorry im just. so sad rn. i havent cried over a fic in YEARS and we still have another chapter ago i hate this SO MUCH..............

here comes chapter 11 

if i cry even once more im going to stab!!!!!! im not sure what BUT ILL STAB!!!!!!!!!!!!

Even without his wings, the Manticore would easily have been twice the size of any of the other Grimm, far outstripping them in sheer bulk.

HATI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HATI HATI HATI

holy shit we actually get to see him this time!!!!!!!!!!! WE GET TO SEE THIS LEGENDARY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS CHONCC,

also hes a manticore now which is, Radical, may i just say, and just a little bit sexy,

The effortless grace in each move betrayed power most Grimm would not live to achieve. Once he stood, he had to dip his head low to meet her eye to eye. His canines were the length of her forearm.

if u werent here for the remaster? we never even SAW hati but now hes here, hes Big, and rly thats all that matters,

Like a child who’d been allowed to lie and lie until at last they’d strangled themself in the web they’d spun, Cinder couldn’t speak. Could only wait on his verdict.

every single one of cinder’s inherent themes is killing me and this business w/ family? stop. im dying. this is rude

The scant space between them popped and cracked like an sparking flame, warm and effervescent, and this time, Cinder lingered, hugging Hati close.

IF I CRY ONCE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MEAN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IF U ASSHOLES MAKE ME CRY ONCE MORE I WILL DOXX YOU,

aaaaaaaaaaaaaah im loving this content i rly dont have words for it dhjfgsdfgjh i just, rly like the words, and the order theyre in, and i honestly keep forgetting to liveblog it cause i just wanna READ EM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tempting as it was—as it always had been, ever since she’d left the relative safety of the wastes and learned what happened to scraggly-limbed teens with horns and fangs and gleaming eyes—

with every chapter i desperately have 2 kno more abt baby cinder i HAVE to know i am so. UNBEARABLY CURIOUS... baby cinder what happened... what happened 2 u....

A lantern’s glow warmed her, bleeding into the darkness leeching at them both. It was a gentle gold across her skin, and like an answering signal from a distant outpost, Cinder saw a flush of light through the dark fur lining Hati’s throat, as though flames licked at his insides.

i forgot. that cinder glows like that when she feels Loved or full of pride and you know what i dont like these chapters. they were made to hurt me and i Dont Like That (im mclovin it)

From the safety of Hati’s neck, she found it easier—after all this time, he was still her bastion.

WHEN YOU REALISE? THAT YR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES?? STOP,

For a regular person, the machine would be able to draw out short bursts of power, the likes of which no Semblance could ever channel. The taxation would eventually destroy the soul so deeply, so thoroughly, as to leave it empty for good.

For a Witch? For—

the fact. she cut herself off before she could think ‘for glynda’. has me on the FLOOR. this bit is just So Much i dont like it

Glynda Goodwitch would not abandon this hunt. Cinder knew it, had read it from her palms like an open book—Glynda Goodwitch did not know how to stop. If it had been anyone else on Remnant, they might never return, might never pull themselves back into action after today—but Glynda did not have a shred of self-preservation.

me, knocking against cinder’s head: u kno for someone w/ so many schemes in yr brain yr pretty dumb and gay, huh,

firstly let’s talk abt cinder’s “””””””””””””””””””self-preservation””””””””””””””””””” instin-- whats that? not found? yes

[Glynda’s] eyes were empty, hungry, insatiable.

i feel like ive read this line before! lets jump back a chapter--

In [Cinder’s] eyes, there was a subtle, endless hunger.

WAKE UP CINDER SHE’S YR SOULMATE!!!!!!!!!!! THE COFFEE’S READY U CAN SMELL THE BACON FROM HERE WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With a fluid leap, they were in the air, the ground quickly shrinking beneath them. Pressing her face against his neck to shield herself from the wind, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for what was to come, trusting Hati to deliver her safely.

that said i ADORE my boy hati is literally the best part of offal hunt kc and diesel do not interact,

He was frozen in horrific anticipation, like watching an imminent tragedy and being absolutely helpless to stop it. Like all the tension was mixed with grief and hopeless, futile fear.

when will offal hunt be nice to me. when will any of these characters get to be happy. hello. im full of sadness.

The sound was like a saw working back and forth, but resonating inside her head, rattling every tooth in her jaw, deafening to her ears.

im literally gritting my teeth at this i can hear it in my own head and its Very Bad!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

okay god i can barely handle to quote anything more this bit is hurting ME so lets swiftly move on before I Die

Cinder closed her weary eyes, sinking into sleep like a shallow grave.

BE NICE TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE TO HER JUST THIS ONCE, PLEASE, IM BEGGING YOU,

They only knew death, only ever sought death; fangs and claws slicked with blood, magic rending meat and marrow apart, and everywhere that choking, scalding heat, spilled blood like magma, like the core of a planet.

hmm... that seems like a 👈😎👈 ~reference~

They were all alert, ears pricked, hackles raised like Hati’s. They all fixed on the same spot, somewhere beyond the darkness of the cave opening, and though she could barely think, she knew:

She was out of time. The Witch was here.

oh no.

okay so THATS CHAPTERS 10 AND 11! i only cried ONCE and u kno what thats. a Victory. these two chapters were VERY GOOD i rly loved em and i can tell new readers r gonna have a blast w/ this shit!!!!!!!!!! meanwhile i, a veteran reader, am full of peril,

terrible.

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog #in this liveblog murphy ACTUALLY CRIES

[yyrz]

breath, faith, taste

note: IT’S VALENTINES and you know what that means!!!

also, an entry to @bnha-angst-week​ day 7: roses // time

the title lyric is from face my fears by utada hikaru because im kh trash. and also because i wrote this with no title in mind and that just started playing and there, here we are

disclaimer: blood mention, vomiting mention, death mention

(all my, all my life)

ao3 link! | fic masterlist!

i.

The petals littering her floor cover the blood she’d spit out hours ago.

White dahlias. Those are white dahlias, from the google search she did hours ago. Kyouka doesn't know what they mean. What they are, really. She doesn't want to continue reading the page she skimmed quickly, doesn't want to know why she's coughing them up whenever her thoughts stray towards Momo—

Momo, who's in the process of meeting her partner-to-be, trapped in a marriage meeting with her parents. Momo, whose excitement felt palpable from the moment it was announced that she'd finally be wed on the eve of next year’s winter solstice. Momo, whose tears ran tracks on her cheeks, all of which Kyouka kissed away, wishing her a bit of simple good luck before letting her go.

Happiness, Kyouka told herself, watching as the Yaoyorozu family car drove away, taking the person responsible for the festering feelings in her chest. Momo was crying tears of happiness.

Don't be selfish Kyouka. She’s not crying because of her freedom and marriage to a stranger feel like a ticking time bomb. Not because your hands cupping her cheeks feel like a goodbye.

Not because you’ll stop being her friend after this whole ordeal is settled with signatures on a contract, irreversible in the eyes of the law. You’ll never stop being her friend.

Not because— not because it feels like you’re giving her away— like you’re not fighting— because you don’t want to just be her friend—— don’t be silly.

ii.

The eve of the New Year looms closer and closer, each day making Kyouka fold into herself with anxiety that, in other circumstances, wouldn’t be present in her overall demeanor. But then, those other circumstances aren’t always so filled with thoughts about Momo. And ever since her winter break, it’s been nothing but Momo in her head.

All she can do is wait for the news. Momo hasn’t called or texted her at all. The break is almost at its end — by next week, they’ll all be back in class.

Maybe Kyouka can wait until then. Maybe Momo’s busy.

An itch makes its way up her throat at the thought of Momo being busy with her... with her fiance. She suppresses it, desperate to keep the flowers from spilling from her lips. A fist is shoved into her mouth, and she forces herself not to let out the dinner she’d eaten earlier, as well as the flowers churning deep in her lungs. Knuckles white, grimace clear on her face, Kyouka finds herself losing as she succumbs to the feeling of dread forcing itself up her throat.

Her dinner comes first, and then the flowers, caked with blood, splattering against the hardwood floor. She’ll have a hard time scrubbing it away, she notes, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Not that she can leave it alone unless she wanted to explain to her parents just why she’d been throwing up flowers.

With that thought in mind, Kyouka sets off to clean up her mess.

As she picks up the last clumps of bloodied dahlias, her phone rings. The sound of Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1 makes her drop every she’s holding, fingers fumbling to answer the call. No matter if her phone's smeared with blood now — it’s Momo who's calling her, so of course she'd answer with the promptness of an ignored soul.

“Jirou-san!” At once, everything in Kyouka’s mind clears as Momo’s voice echoes from her phone speakers, almost bouncing with glee.

They talk for hours. Kyouka’s forced to keep her coughing to a bare minimum as Momo gushed on and on about her break, asking Kyouka for details of her own. Stories fill the gap between them, and Kyouka's heart soars when she hears Momo laugh. The growing flowers seem to shrink every time she listens to Momo.

That’s good.

The ski trip she wanted to invite Momo to rears itself to the forefront of her mind. But Kyouka refrains from saying anything about it because she knows Momo will feel bad for not being able to come. Not that Kyouka had the guts to invite her, even when the opportunity presented itself, but that wasn’t the point.

Eventually, their conversation comes to a close. Momo bids her farewell (with something about her tone gives Kyouka pause) and the call ends with Kyouka's goodbye.

Her phone chimes a beat later.

momo: I missed you Kyouka! I’ll see you next week!

momo: :*    

Her heart lurches in its place behind the thick foliage growing beneath her ribs. She stares at that small emoji, a kissing face, and wonders if Momo means it or if she thinks it only a gesture of friendship.

kyouka: no prob mo. missed u 2! see u next week.

iii.

Every day, her chest aches. Every day, the pain multiplies. Every day spent with Momo is a day spent agonizing about her future. No one knows about the flowers.

Or, no one would have known, had she not run into Kaminari during an episode.

A trembling hand reaches for the blonde, as he stares in shock (and if it weren’t so serious, she’d hear him laugh at the pun). She twists in her seat, fisted hand clutching her chest as though that would alleviate the pain of flowers growing in her lungs. Dahlias don’t grow with thorns, but Kyouka feels as though a thousand have been piercing her since this all started.

She swallows a cry (and the blood, the bile, the petals) back. A shudder runs through her shoulders. Kaminari can do nothing but watch, horrified as a dribble of blood makes it past her fingers, which she wipes away.

There are questions on the tip of this tongue, and the fact that he’s yet to crack a joke at her expense makes her believe that he’s taking this as seriously as she has. It’s odd for Kaminari to do so, but the appreciation she conveys for his somber manner is still well   

No one’s there to notice anything. She’s lucky. She’s lucky Momo’s not here to see her. She’s lucky Momo’s out with her fiance.

Ha.

iv.

.

.

.

Momo doesn’t know anything apart from the fluttering in her stomach; she doesn’t care about anything apart from a nagging insistence residing in her belly, urging her to spend time with Jirou. She has always known what she wanted, even at a young age. But right now, she doesn’t why her desires tell her to always be within Jirou’s range.

There’s something there. A spark? She can’t pinpoint it and for the love of God, how she wants to name the restless feeling she gets whenever she isn’t near Jirou.

She’s meeting with her fiance today and a feeling in her swells to an uproar. I don’t want to! I want to stay here! But her mother had their lunch date arranged, had planned everything and it would break her heart if Momo says that she’d rather stay with her classmates, spend the night idly chatting with them in the comfort of their common room. She already can imagine herself, sprawled on the sofa, teased for keeping her feet firmly on the floor while everyone has theirs up on the coffee table, while Iida shouts something about respecting the one who made it.

Which was her, for a dare.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Fooling around with her classmates, when she hadn’t the slightest clue to her future. When her mother had yet to tell her about the engagement; when she had yet to meet the person she’d spend her eternity with.

They were nice. Friendly. Almost too much, like it was a farce for them, wrapped in printed paper and topped with a colorful bow. Maybe that’s what they think of Momo — a gift by her parents, or an offering to appease them.

Stop that line of thinking Momo! She feels silly for allowing such thoughts in her head when they’ve been nothing but understanding with their predicament. An arranged marriage was such an old custom, and yet here she is, here they are, in the middle of it. Ready to go through with it.

Are they really ready though?

Momo’s thoughts drift back to Jirou. She was such a supportive friend, crying with Momo when she expressed frustration for the plans her mother spewed. She wanted nothing more than to turn her back on that plan, but mother’s disappointment loomed above her head, a stormy look overshadowing the words that would’ve brought her respite. Jirou tries to lift her spirits up, easing her into the thought of a future carved into stone by her parents.

But the longer she waits, the lower the spirits drop, the deeper the pit she feels herself falling into. Momo makes her circumstance a show of happiness, even with the judgment she can feel pouring out of Todoroki and Iida’s intense gaze.

Are you happy? Is what they always ask, the pair laced with concern and anger, both at her inability to say no and her cowardice.

And she knows. Momo knows how deep her weakness falls. But she pushes aside everything that her mother has expressly forbidden her to do, ignores the own throbbing of her chest whenever she refers to Jirou has her friend.

Because deep down she knows — down to the cells making up her body, the rushing blood against her veins. She knows that friend can’t explain that throbbing; friend can’t explain the misery. The word friend can never explain the enormity of her feelings, yearning yet confined within the small space she could never let go.

.

.

.

When she exits the common room, eyeing the scene of a happy Jirou nudging Kaminari, laughing at the stupidly content grin on his face, something prods against her chest. A heavy feeling, foreboding in all its glory.

.

.

.

The roses littering her floor cover the stench of her disappointments and regrets.

v.

Dahlias and roses surround her, around her body, like a protective shell. Her body is floating, carried by the current.

Jumping off the cliff was her decision. Sudden but not unwanted.    

Momo follows soon after. The shouting behind her ignored as she plunges headfirst into the ocean, splitting it for a moment before she’s submerged. Her eyes sting, but she’s undeterred in her quest to locate Kyouka.

The sea seems to glow when she opens her eyes, when she feels hands cupping her cheeks, when she finally stares at Momo’s paling features, watching her cry at nothing, tears mixing with seawater. Kyouka can’t seem to speak anymore, not when water is already entering her mouth, her nose, burning her lungs into oblivion.

She breathes salt and sea, shame and desire, pulling her deeper into the abyss that was the ocean. She smiles, letting her lips touch her cheeks, letting her face bloom with heat even in the freezing depths. She finds that her hands have taken Momo’s own, holding as tightly as she could (as she can, in her weakening state).

Momo replies with the same gusto of the dying, closing her eyes, letting everything else take her. Letting go of her unhappiness, bleeding agony until only the truth remained.

Too late to say, but at the same time, it was just the right time to realize.

vi.

They’re found together, blue and no more, holding each other close.   

#momojirou #jirou kyouka #yaoyorozu momo #bnha-angst-week #boku no hero academia #this is so bad bUT I LOVE hanahakis o k #yyrz.fic

[yumenosakiacademy]

metr0con 2019 thursday diary

Cosplayed: tsuka-sa suou, summer uniform, w my burger king crown n my leo sign. Breakfast: ramen. Snack: none, but i did bring a package of poptarts.

This is for future me, so i’d prefer if ya didnt read but i mean. w/e.

Okay so.. I had a crappy morning and I only slept for 2 hours BUT! Con tiiiime! I got there and arrived at the hetalia panel a few minutes late but that's okay, it wasn't by many. I remembered I asked sealand during truth or dare n he said dare n I asked him to reenact his favorite fortunate dance n he was like "oh I've been waiting for this" or smth and later, I asked him how his gamer youtube channel was doing n america was like “oh dude i was ur 5th subscriber!!” n sealand was like “subscribe to me plss” n america was like “dont forget to like n subscribe. n receive notifications.” n someone dared canada to b as loud as america n she yelled when they said “be as loud as you were when u lost to russia in hockey”. at another part, someone asked america if she would rather never eat fast food again or save sealand from falling into a volcano n she hugged sealand n said “my lil bro!”. someone dared america to speak in proper english and she was all “oh pip pip cheerio” and mocking england haha

at the end of the panel, a girl came up to me n she said she liked my costume n i was like “!! r u into ES??” and they said “almost” or like. kinda or smth but they took my picture n i felt so happy gjhns

OKAY then i tried to go to the adventure t!me sing-along n q+a panel but they only did truth or dare for a few minutes n im not big into AT anyway so i wasnt rly having fun then they decided to start the singalong when they got the wifi working via someone turning on their hotspot but i had a bad throat so i just left the panel and then had abt 4 hrs to walk around! aw jeez, right?

while on my walk i saw a riku n got their pic n i was like “male idols unite hell yea” n we talked for a bit n they were talkin abt a boy idol series they had heard abt called dank!ra n i mentioned i had also heard abt that! i also came across someone who said they liked my costume or knew who i was (someone in a red beret) n we were talking abt ES n i was like “best boys go” n they said shu and i think keito n i was like “chiaki n mika.. theyre baby” n they were like “ryuse!ta! n rabitz r the most baby in ES” n i was like “oh dude those r my fav units.....” at some point, i saw kuro again!! i saw them but was too shy then later they spotted me as i walked past them n went “tsukasa!!” n i turned around n i was like “erin!!!” n i hugged them n the beret person was there too bc they were their friend apparently and kuro said they were just gonna b kuro for thursday (they were cosplaying summer uniform!kuro like they did in a previous yr) n they just wore it cuz they were hot n went “summer uniform solidarity” (bc i was summer uniform!tsukasa) n we fist bumped and i was digging around my shirt pocket to show them my souma keychain n they were like “oh dude u reaching into ur pocket reminded me i need to get smth from my pocket. i hav Fangs” n they put on costume fangs! eventually they started looking at jojo figures at the stall we were next to n we eventually parted.

at some point, the person running the itabag booth (theyre an ES fan, i kno. their site has ens-tars itabags in the examples gallery n they cosplayed ES last yr) saw me n went “ousama!” bc of my sign n i went over n they were like “guess what ia ctually got to meet arashis va last week” n i was like “RLY??” n they were showing me their arashi itabag n they were like “yea i got to shake his hand n everything aaa. n during his talk/panel (?) i kept showing off my arashi stuff as if to say “I LOVE ARASHI” n i was like “arashi is best knights member.. ara-nee............”

at some point my crown fell off while i was on the escalator? i tried to go back for it but it was gone in the Minute it took me to ride te up escalator? i assumed someone took it to wear but kenyan said someone mightve thrown it away..

i went to metro night live n it wasnt all that funny?? idk what to talk abt from it. they did a “luigi being a gamer” video series n one of them was him playing hotl!ne miami (not knowing it was violent) n he was like “ive never been to florida but i guess this is a game to simulate it!” n it said “proloogue: the metro” n he was like “oh like the convention!” n when the mask selection came up he was like “oh look we can even cosplay!” n he went thru the door n saw one of the mafia members n went “look! a congoer! hello- oh” n accidentaly shoved one of the guys down n he was like “can i help you up-” but then the character (jacket) smashed the guys head in w the button press n luigi went “....o-oh. uh-” and some of the other games were fortnite n he played a violent game n he was like “THERE IS NO GOD HERE NOW” or w/e. they also had an “Edgelords anonymous” skit in which reaper was a new member of the group but it ended w ruby r0se describing brutal ways to kill people (while listing em cheerily) n the others being disturbed n alucard ending the session.

at 7 i had nothing so i walked around. then when 8 hit, i was gonna go to Whose Line Is It Anime but apparently its time had been changed to 7 pm?? the 8 in “8:00-9:00 pm” was scribbled out in sharpie on the schedule board in front of the room n it said 7 pm but now that i think abt it.. i think they meant 7-9 pm. ....shit. oh god damn it. anyway i got sad n left then since it was kinda empty/slow bc it was nighttime, i sat down on a wall thing to open up my sougo plush keychain n some guy next to me started talking to me abt my nails and we got ot talking n apparently he had wanted to go to the dealers room but didnt kno they closed @ 8 n he was here w friend n only had a single day pass bc he had work the other days (his name was spencer) so he was just lounging and i suggested he tell his friends what he wanted n they get it for him if they hav weekend passes n asked if he knew abt the game room n he said no so i invited him to go play smash w me so we went but couldnt figure out how things worked bc there were many consoles n screens w games, but mosst had no controllers but it turns out u borrow the contollers w ur con pass! kenyan was there running the controller borrower table. he said “psst” bc he saw me n i ws like “kenyan!!!” n hugged him n he was like “hows ur weekend going dear” n i said not that great but only bc it was thursday! also my throat hurt” n he was like “did u drink?” n i was like “well.. i have water but..” n he was like “drink juice. it’ll help. that’s what ur dad wwould say” (he woukdnt) anyway we got our controllrs and started playg smash n i went, in order: joker, robin, chrom, bayonetta, greninja n he was teaching me how to play w the gamecube controller (im used to a wiimote) n he beat me every time but i had fun!

after that i was GONNA go to the v-ld panel but i looked inside while walking by n there werent many ppl so i said “okay lets go to the BB panel then. take a look” so i went in there n there were a TON of ppl anyway it was kind of boring bc im not big on murder mysteries n stuff but apparently someone solved it by saying ciel slipped n fell, no one murdered him. then they did the raffle n i didnt win but thats okay! most ppl left after the raffle ended n q+a started n i couldnt hear many ppls’ questions anyway so i was bored n thought of goint to the vl-d panel but ended up not but w/e! oh! also everyone received candy at the beginning of the panel n i ahd a mystery lollipop n it turned out to b birthday cake flavor! id never had that before. it was Good.

after that i was just wandering around n i called dad to startdriving there but the ciel i asked for a picture of, them n their friends were gawking at my nails ns tuff n one of the teens’ dads was like “how do ya pick ur nose w it??” but after that, as i was wandering around, the gundam id sen earlier that day saw me n waved n i said oh hi n went over n they (it was them n an izuru) were like “wanna hang out w us for a while?” so i was like “oh. shoot. id luv too but im waiting for my dad to pick me up” n theyw ere like “it’s okay we can just hang out til then, then, if ya’d like” so i hung out w them n the gundam was talking abt how earlier, a mukuro complimented them on their outfit n they returned the compliment n went to leave n the mukuro was like “uumm arent u gonna hang out w me? we’re from the same series n all” n they were like “not w that f***in attitude” n i was like “did ya rly say that?” n they were like “yea. ppl dont expect me ta hav attitude” n we also talked abt piercings n how i said they seemed cool n goth (the gundam had a nose ring n the izuru had a piercing near their mouth) but how it must hurt n they said it just feels like a pinch. at some point i roled over my bag so my sougo wouldnt get dirty n the izuru saw my rei button n mentioned smth abt only findin one rei button at the idol table n i was like “UR INTO ES???” n they were like “i just kno undead n a few other characters. like [points @ my leo sign] i kno him” n i went “he’s dumbass supreme” n the gundam was talking abt getting the rythm game n i was like “jut read the stories on the wiki the game is boring imo” n the izuru backed me up by saying it wasnt a rhythm game n a lil while later, i showed them the 2 cool rei cgs n i was like “big sexe” n they agreed but the izuru had said theyd seen the croassroads one i showed em (the first of the 2) n the gundam said they wnted to cosplay bloody banquet rei (the other cg i showed em) n the izuru said they wanted to cosplay them All gjhnsm i showed them ryu-seitai too n showed them undead n gundam showed an interest in adonis! we also talked abt k!n stuff n all that! im not gonna go into detail on that (esp bc it’s so late rn as im typing!) but gundam was like “i dont trust junko k!n. like, evreyone else, yea, but junko? no. or like, any other character that’s just so irredeemably shitty”. oh they also talked abt this one messy, ugly, tangly junko wig they found for $300 which shouldnt have been that much n it was just a mess of tangles. anyway t’s getting late oh gosh. anyway they said they’d b on the lookout for me tomorrow so we can say hi again! 

random fun fact: SO many ppl complimented my nails today gjhnsm

#i coulda added a lil more but this was already so long!! ah!! i need to sleep im dumb tired n i need to wake up early tomorrowww #diary #con diary

[drabblesbabbles]

Give It Back (What You Took Was Mine)

PROMPT: I want to read a small fluffy story where A and B are classmates/schoolmates, and whenever A needs/wants something (a tissue, earpiece, an effin’ McDonalds McWings), B is always somehow miraculously passing by and always has the item, and A just gets more and more intrigued and they become friends and fall in love

-or- 5 times ash takes something from jessie, and the 1 time she does

meet ash, resident bad boy

he’s willful, does what he wants whenever he wants to

stoic face, lazy movements, sharp tongue

wardrobe seemingly consisting of only bomber jackets and skinny jeans (slightly ripped at the knees, of course)

attends his classes, but never seem to listen to a word the teacher says

and he unsurprisingly barely knows his own classmates

oh! he is also very irresistible to women

I.

so when a random girl had offered him a pen out of nowhere, ash may have reacted a little harsher than necessary

“a pen?” he scoffs, shifting his gaze from the pen to look at the girl. “that’s supposed to flatter me?”

“what? it’s for the pop quiz, you dimwit,” she grits out

he blinks, turning to the front and indeed, written boldly across the board, were the words “ART HISTORY POP QUIZ”

“but if you plan to fail this class, then be my guest,” the girl muses, putting the pen back into her pencil case

“no!” he blurts. “uh, um, i need a pen”

he receives an amused look from the girl which makes him avert his gaze slightly, bringing a hand to pull at his earlobe

she lends him the pen anyway, to which he takes gratefully

at the end of class, he returns her the pen and thanking her again

“by the way, how did you know i didn’t have a pen?” he muses

“you come into class every day with nothing but your phone and wallet. of course, you don’t have a pen”

“oh,” that makes sense. then, a teasing smile pulls on his lips. “been paying attention to me, huh?”

the girl scoffs and rolls her eyes. “you wish”

the next day when the girl sits beside him in class again, he greets her with a teasing smile, commenting on her wanting to be in close proximity to the school’s bad boy

“ive been sitting here since the start of the semester, idiot”

II.

the next time the girl, jessie – ash learned her name during attendance-taking – helps him, is when ash is being hit on by some girl from the cheerleading team, and he can’t stop sneezing

“could you get lost? my nose ‘bout to drop-off if i sneeze one more time” he snarls, rubbing at his nose

the cheerleader blanches for a moment, clearly offended, before masking her expression with a sickeningly sweet smile. she hops off his table and waves at him before turning to leave

a packet of tissue lands on his table when he keeps rubbing his irritated nose

he looks up and spots jessie, amusement adorning her face

“ugh, thanks,” he grunts, pulling out a piece of tissue from the packet. “her perfume was really ‘bout to make me lose my sense of smell”

jessie just snorts and shakes her head in amusement

III.

ash is at the cafe near campus, buying his daily dose of caffeine, when he realises he doesn’t have enough cash on him

“fuck,” he curses under his breath, digging through the pockets of his jeans for the third time as if a 50 cent coin would miraculously appear

he fumbles about for a moment, smiling apologetically at the cashier, who only watches him as he struggles

it’s thats when the bell by the door jingles, and ash turns to see jessie walking into the cafe

“jessie, hey!” he calls out, quickly pulling his hand out of his pockets and fixes his posture. “what brings you here?”

she narrows her eyes at him, looking between him and the cashier then it clicks, and ash doesnt really like the smug smile tugging on her lips

but he’s desperate for coffee because he has a paper to write tonight and god knows he wouldnt be able to make it through without some coffee

shoves his pride up his ass and asks. “um, do you have 50 cents to spare? i’ll pay you back later”

she laughs at him, bright and loud, but pays for the drinks after adding her own cup of coffee to the order

the pair takes a seat and falls into an easy conversation

it’s surprisingly comfortable, considering they only properly met last week during the pop quiz incident

she doesnt throw herself at him like every other girl on campus, and he doesnt find the need to put his guard up around her

they talk about this and that, and when ash throws flirtatious comments out of spite, jessie retorts with a scoff and an insult ready on her tongue

and it’s just so easy

and it’s not his fault that he finds jessie attractive

and it’s not his fault that he thinks it’s a little intriguing how she seem to always have what he needs

and it’s not his fault that a couple of days later, he finds himself harbouring a small crush on the girl

IV.

the fourth time jessie comes to ash’s rescue is when he’s starving

he had missed his alarm this morning so he didnt manage to grab something to eat in the morning, and there’s too little time in between his classes to run to the canteen for a quick snack

it’s already 3pm and he feels so hungry, and art history has never been more boring than it already was

his stomach growls loudly and he groans, banging his head against his table top

he here’s a familiar snort of laughter to his left and throws the person a deadpan look, scowling a little

it earns him a chuckle but he ignores it, going back to staring resolutely at his shoes and will for the time to go faster

a paper bag suddenly slides into view and he perks up in interest

he picks the bag up and peeps into it

he’s surprised to say the least and very very amused, because in that bag, there’s a box of nuggets, and he quickly shuts the bag before the teacher catches the aroma and kicks him out of class

he turns to his left again and sees jessie wearing a big smile on her face

“why the fuck do you have chicken nuggets in your bag?” he whisper-shouts across the aisle

“eat it, it’s from lunch so they’re still good”

“what about you?”

“just take it, ive already had breakfast. and if i were to hear your stomach growling again, i might just dissect your body to shut you up,” she says, grinning

he doesn’t question further. instead, he indulges in the chicken nuggets. discretely stuffing them into his mouth when the teacher has his back to him, and tosses a few to jessie only to see her scramble to catch them

the pair muffle their laughter behind their hands

and if the other students think it’s the first time they’ve seen ash with a bright smile on his face, they don’t say anything

their friendship develops quickly and it’s unsurprising, really, when the other students see them dancing around each other

it’s the resident bad boy after all, irresistible to women and all that crap

V.

ash wouldve thought that with the rumour going around about ash dating, that the girls would finally leave him alone

but clearly he’s proven wrong because now he’s trapped by his locker, a cheerleader – monica, was it? – clinging on to his arm

he sighs exasperatedly for the nth time in five minutes when the girl flutters her eyes at him

up close, he could see her false eyelashes barely clinging to her lashline and how her foundation is a little cakey

it’s funny really, and being the “notorious bad boy” he is, he opens his mouth to speak – tell the girl off for looking so desperate, and to fix her make-up if she’s planning to even woo the janitor

but he doesn’t manage to get a word in before a loud but familiar voice yells his name from down the hall

thank fucking god

it’s jessie, running down the hall and swiftly avoids crashing into the other students. she holds a paper in her hand and stops directly in front of him, not sparing a glance at the cheerleader

“Mr Lee wants to see you,” she pants, waving the paper in his face

“what about?” he asks, finally pulling his arm away from the cheerleader

“you failed the test. he’s going to have your head.”

he’s about to voice his disbelief but jessie is already tugging on the sleeves of his jacket and pulling him away from the lockers

they walk towards the liberal arts department, only stopping by the studios, and it’s definitely not where the staff offices are

“Mr Lee didn’t actually call for you,” jessie says, gaze fixed on her shoes but ash notes how the tips of her ears are tinted slightly red

“so, i didn’t fail the test?” she shakes her head. “oh, thank fuck.”

he straightens then, curiosity got to him when jessie still doesn’t look up or say anything

“then, what was all that for?” a shrug, head ducking further and ears turning redder

it clicks then. and it’s really really not surprising. not when their bickers have turned a lot fonder, and their subtle touches have lingered a lot longer than necessary

“oh~” he sing-songs, a smirk playing on his lips already. “why did you come running down the hall then?” another shrug.

“did jessie wanted to pull me away from little ms cheerleader? she was quite pretty, you know?” a scoff, but it got her to raise her head a little and ash confirms that she is indeed blushing

“hm, maybe i should –” “no!”

he smirks and takes a step closer. “why not?”

“b-because…” she starts, hooks her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, tugging lightly so they’re a tad bit closer. “because why would you go to her when…”

“when?” he muses, lifting her head by her chin so he could see her face. with their close proximity, their eyes cross a little when they meet.

“when you have me, fuckface”

he grins triumphantly

BONUS!

“how come you’re miraculously always present when i need something?”

“i dont know, maybe im your knight in shining armour”

“mm,” he hums, intertwining their fingers together. “there is one thing you took from me though”

“what is it?”

“my heart”

it earns him a hearty laugh and a playful shove that makes him stumble a bit

“hm, i think i’ll hold on to it for awhile longer,” jessie muses, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and he squeezes her hand once in affirmative

he could deal with that for a long time

#ash is a loser #hes like 5% bad boy 95% a mess

[notupforthisish]

Give It Back (What You Took Was Mine)

PROMPT: I want to read a small fluffy story where A and B are classmates/schoolmates, and whenever A needs/wants something (a tissue, earpiece, an effin’ McDonalds McWings), B is always somehow miraculously passing by and always has the item, and A just gets more and more intrigued and they become friends and fall in love 

-or- 5 times ash takes something from jessie, and the 1 time she does

meet ash, resident bad boy

he’s willful, does what he wants whenever he wants to

stoic face, lazy movements, sharp tongue

wardrobe seemingly consisting of only bomber jackets and skinny jeans (slightly ripped at the knees, of course)

attends his classes, but never seem to listen to a word the teacher says

and he unsurprisingly barely knows his own classmates

oh! he is also very irresistible to women

I.

so when a random girl had offered him a pen out of nowhere, ash may have reacted a little harsher than necessary

“a pen?” he scoffs, shifting his gaze from the pen to look at the girl. “that’s supposed to flatter me?”

“what? it’s for the pop quiz, you dimwit,” she grits out

he blinks, turning to the front and indeed, written boldly across the board, were the words “ART HISTORY POP QUIZ”

“but if you plan to fail this class, then be my guest,” the girl muses, putting the pen back into her pencil case

“no!” he blurts. “uh, um, i need a pen”

he receives an amused look from the girl which makes him avert his gaze slightly, bringing a hand to pull at his earlobe

she lends him the pen anyway, to which he takes gratefully

at the end of class, he returns her the pen and thanking her again

“by the way, how did you know i didn’t have a pen?” he muses

“you come into class every day with nothing but your phone and wallet. of course, you don’t have a pen”

“oh,” that makes sense. then, a teasing smile pulls on his lips. “been paying attention to me, huh?”

the girl scoffs and rolls her eyes. “you wish”

the next day when the girl sits beside him in class again, he greets her with a teasing smile, commenting on her wanting to be in close proximity to the school’s bad boy

“ive been sitting here since the start of the semester, idiot”

II.

the next time the girl, jessie – ash learned her name during attendance-taking – helps him, is when ash is being hit on by some girl from the cheerleading team, and he can’t stop sneezing

“could you get lost? my nose ‘bout to drop-off if i sneeze one more time” he snarls, rubbing at his nose

the cheerleader blanches for a moment, clearly offended, before masking her expression with a sickeningly sweet smile. she hops off his table and waves at him before turning to leave

a packet of tissue lands on his table when he keeps rubbing his irritated nose

he looks up and spots jessie, amusement adorning her face

“ugh, thanks,” he grunts, pulling out a piece of tissue from the packet. “her perfume was really ‘bout to make me lose my sense of smell”

jessie just snorts and shakes her head in amusement

III.

ash is at the cafe near campus, buying his daily dose of caffeine, when he realises he doesn’t have enough cash on him

“fuck,” he curses under his breath, digging through the pockets of his jeans for the third time as if a 50 cent coin would miraculously appear

he fumbles about for a moment, smiling apologetically at the cashier, who only watches him as he struggles 

it’s thats when the bell by the door jingles, and ash turns to see jessie walking into the cafe

“jessie, hey!” he calls out, quickly pulling his hand out of his pockets and fixes his posture. “what brings you here?”

she narrows her eyes at him, looking between him and the cashier then it clicks, and ash doesnt really like the smug smile tugging on her lips

but he’s desperate for coffee because he has a paper to write tonight and god knows he wouldnt be able to make it through without some coffee

shoves his pride up his ass and asks. “um, do you have 50 cents to spare? i’ll pay you back later”

she laughs at him, bright and loud, but pays for the drinks after adding her own cup of coffee to the order

the pair takes a seat and falls into an easy conversation 

it’s surprisingly comfortable, considering they only properly met last week during the pop quiz incident

she doesnt throw herself at him like every other girl on campus, and he doesnt find the need to put his guard up around her

they talk about this and that, and when ash throws flirtatious comments out of spite, jessie retorts with a scoff and an insult ready on her tongue

and it’s just so easy

and it’s not his fault that he finds jessie attractive

and it’s not his fault that he thinks it’s a little intriguing how she seem to always have what he needs

and it’s not his fault that a couple of days later, he finds himself harbouring a small crush on the girl

IV.

the fourth time jessie comes to ash’s rescue is when he’s starving

he had missed his alarm this morning so he didnt manage to grab something to eat in the morning, and there’s too little time in between his classes to run to the canteen for a quick snack

it’s already 3pm and he feels so hungry, and art history has never been more boring than it already was

his stomach growls loudly and he groans, banging his head against his table top

he here’s a familiar snort of laughter to his left and throws the person a deadpan look, scowling a little

it earns him a chuckle but he ignores it, going back to staring resolutely at his shoes and will for the time to go faster

a paper bag suddenly slides into view and he perks up in interest

he picks the bag up and peeps into it

he’s surprised to say the least and very very amused, because in that bag, there’s a box of nuggets, and he quickly shuts the bag before the teacher catches the aroma and kicks him out of class

he turns to his left again and sees jessie wearing a big smile on her face

“why the fuck do you have chicken nuggets in your bag?” he whisper-shouts across the aisle

“eat it, it’s from lunch so they’re still good”

“what about you?”

“just take it, ive already had breakfast. and if i were to hear your stomach growling again, i might just dissect your body to shut you up,” she says, grinning

he doesn’t question further. instead, he indulges in the chicken nuggets. discretely stuffing them into his mouth when the teacher has his back to him, and tosses a few to jessie only to see her scramble to catch them

the pair muffle their laughter behind their hands

and if the other students think it’s the first time they’ve seen ash with a bright smile on his face, they don’t say anything

their friendship develops quickly and it’s unsurprising, really, when the other students see them dancing around each other

it’s the resident bad boy after all, irresistible to women and all that crap

V.

ash wouldve thought that with the rumour going around about ash dating, that the girls would finally leave him alone

but clearly he’s proven wrong because now he’s trapped by his locker, a cheerleader – monica, was it? – clinging on to his arm

he sighs exasperatedly for the nth time in five minutes when the girl flutters her eyes at him

up close, he could see her false eyelashes barely clinging to her lashline and how her foundation is a little cakey

it’s funny really, and being the “notorious bad boy” he is, he opens his mouth to speak – tell the girl off for looking so desperate, and to fix her make-up if she’s planning to even woo the janitor

but he doesn’t manage to get a word in before a loud but familiar voice yells his name from down the hall

thank fucking god

it’s jessie, running down the hall and swiftly avoids crashing into the other students. she holds a paper in her hand and stops directly in front of him, not sparing a glance at the cheerleader

“Mr Lee wants to see you,” she pants, waving the paper in his face

“what about?” he asks, finally pulling his arm away from the cheerleader

“you failed the test. he’s going to have your head.”

he’s about to voice his disbelief but jessie is already tugging on the sleeves of his jacket and pulling him away from the lockers

they walk towards the liberal arts department, only stopping by the studios, and it’s definitely not where the staff offices are

“Mr Lee didn’t actually call for you,” jessie says, gaze fixed on her shoes but ash notes how the tips of her ears are tinted slightly red

“so, i didn’t fail the test?” she shakes her head. “oh, thank fuck.”

he straightens then, curiosity got to him when jessie still doesn’t look up or say anything

“then, what was all that for?” a shrug, head ducking further and ears turning redder

it clicks then. and it’s really really not surprising. not when their bickers have turned a lot fonder, and their subtle touches have lingered a lot longer than necessary

“oh~” he sing-songs, a smirk playing on his lips already. “why did you come running down the hall then?” another shrug.

“did jessie wanted to pull me away from little ms cheerleader? she was quite pretty, you know?” a scoff, but it got her to raise her head a little and ash confirms that she is indeed blushing

“hm, maybe i should –” “no!”

he smirks and takes a step closer. “why not?”

“b-because…” she starts, hooks her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, tugging lightly so they’re a tad bit closer. “because why would you go to her when…”

“when?” he muses, lifting her head by her chin so he could see her face. with their close proximity, their eyes cross a little when they meet.

“when you have me, fuckface”

he grins triumphantly

BONUS!

“how come you’re miraculously always present when i need something?”

“i dont know, maybe im your knight in shining armour”

“mm,” he hums, intertwining their fingers together. “there is one thing you took from me though”

“what is it?”

“my heart”

it earns him a hearty laugh and a playful shove that makes him stumble a bit

“hm, i think i’ll hold on to it for awhile longer,” jessie muses, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and he squeezes her hand once in affirmative

he could deal with that for a long time 

#ash is a loser #hes like 5% bad boy lol

[portermeacham26-blog]

hairy girl pussy video - How To Pick Up Women With Hairy Women In Porn

Looking back I had way too much fun around this time last summer. I went to Seattle area when I got an internship there. The tech company hosted most of their interns in corporate housing in a few areas. Ben was extremely outgoing, and had very different views on life at the time than I did. He was a fellow intern. I was sharing a 2 BHK fully furnished apartment with Ben. Whereas I was just coming off a 2 year relationship, Ben had stuck mostly to FWBs in school. Currently, I am interning in the Bay Area. I decided to take rental car option that they provided and stayed at a nice place a little further in the suburbs. Clearly, Ben was fucking a chick. He already had met a new girl, who had left her panties in the living room. Only one week after we moved in, I was having few beers with interns from my team. I am a rising senior in a college in Midwest and I am going to tell what happened during the last summer around this time during my internship in Seattle. Ben had on a Super Mario Bros. I got home late around 11:30 PM and when I opened the door, I heard some noise that was clearly two people kissing and making out. Rather than grab one, Ben walked over to a table with two girls who only had water and still had their menus. When we got to the porch about half the tables were open. t-shirt, so I guessed he wasnt actually playing on picking up a girl for the night. One of the girls recognized Ben and they exchanged pleasantaries. Ben got back to me and told that she is Erin, the girl he has been seeing. Ok, so he is seeing a girl now, within a week of starting internship. She had a very pretty face, shoulder length hair, and 34B breasts. I was next to a very pretty curvy brunette named Disha, and Ben was next to a Erin. We started to chat, and ordered a large pizza. It was a seat yourself kind of place, and it was a nice day so we decided to sit on the porch. When we finished dinner, Ben announced we had some beer in our room if they wanted to go back with us, which they eagerly agreed to. I walked across to the apartment with Dishas arm wrapped around mine, making small talk the entire time. They asked us what it was like playing a college sport, told us about their two other intern friends Amber and Alexa, mostly small talk. Their kisses stopped and after what seemed like a few minutes, I heard moans and muffles. She had beige skin, a defined face, and black hair that went about midway down her back. She was an average height, fit, thick skinned blonde woman. Erin was a very funny, cute girl from a school in the new England region. She had on a low cut blue and white striped shirt, and from my height I could look straight down into her cleavage, She had pushed up breasts that I though had to be D cups. The next night we went to a pizza place that was popular with interns. She was a gorgeous woman. I was wearing a t-shirt that showed I was on the soccer team and shorts. Erin and Ben were sitting on the futon, and Disha and I were sitting across form them in Ben and my computer chairs. If you have any issues with regards to exactly where and how to use atk xxx pics, you can speak to us at our own site. We got home and started to have a few beers. Ben had a hand over her shoulders, which he let slide down to her chest. They had gone to a party the night before. She immediately put her hand on Bens thigh as well. I untangled my arm from Dishas and started to rub her shoulder. She was tall, about 58", but still a good bit shorter than me. Soon I was rubbing it further towards her chest. Erin was tan, with a face full of freckles, and taller than Erin. She had on jeans shorts that only went an inch or two down her extremely long legs. Disha leaned in closer and put a hand around my waist and the other on my abs. Her legs were toned, and a golden bronze color. "You are gorgeous," Ben told her, being completely honest. As the drinks started, the girls loosened up even more, and told us that tonight was originally going to be a girls only night. " she leaned over and kissed Ben on the cheek. " I asked, being serious. "Well I think 32A sounds wonderful," Ben said. "I mean, Im small, 32A," Erin was saying. " "Umm, they are 32A, guys want bigger, like yours. " Erin laughed and said "Watch out, or I might make you put your money where your mouth it. We had beers and Ben was not going to wait. "Cmon Erin," Disha replied, "You have nice boobs. She pulled her shirt off over her head, then reached behind herself an undid her bra. " Ben immediately quipped, "Id rather you put your breasts where my mouth is. Her long blonde hair covered the top third of her back. We could see that she had no tan-lines on her back, as Bens hands were rubbing up and down it. " Apparently that was all it took. After a few seconds Erin got off Bens lap and sat back next to us, without putting her shirt back on. She was laughing and blushing. Dishas hand had moved to my lap and was rubbing my cock through my jeans as she watched. Her arms were wrapped around Bens neck, and we could hear her gently moaning. "In fact, I can think of nothing more I would like to do right now, than have a tall, thin, gorgeous woman straddle me topless and let me kiss on her 32A breasts. " I said, grinning at Disha. " She asked me in a seductive voice. "Is that what you want? I nodded yes as she pulled her shirt over her head. Erin straddled Ben, her back to Disha and me. She did have small, but very nice breasts with light brown nipples which were both very wet and very erect. I reached up and grasped one tit in each hand, leaned forward and buried my face between them, kissing her chest. Then I took her left nipple into my mouth, then moved over to the right. I know, Ive seen them. I kissed all over her breasts for what felt like much longer than Ben had played with Erin. She wrapped her arms around my chest and moaned as I sucked on her. "Big boobs are good too though. I opened my mouth and let my tongue meet hers. We broke the kiss and Disha got up to sit back on her chair. She unclasped her bra with one hand then let it fall off her into my lap. I looked up at Disha and she leaned her face down to mine. She let out another moan as we made out. She looked at it then feigned surprise. Two gorgeous, massive breasts were hanging in front of my face. We took the action to our respective rooms. Erin had Bens cock out of his pants and was holding it in her hand. Disha stood up and took of her shorts and panties. He turned the discussion towards sex and some how we were discussing boobs now. She got on her knees in front of me, said it hairy girls cunt was my turn, then undid my belt and took my shorts and boxers off. I reached down and squeezed her tits while she blew me. My cock was already rock hard and she immediately took it into her mouth. " "They are the nicest I have ever played with," I answered. She had large pink nipples which were both erect. I looked over and realized why. Her pussy was completely shaved. "Oh Kevin," she said, "youre so thick and. Before long she was thrusting back up and me, the tight grip of her pussy taking more and more of my dick until I was buried to the hilt. Disha whimpered slightly at first, worrying me, but after several minutes of slow, deep fucking I had managed to work most of my cock into her and she started to moan again. "I think I might be close to another. I pushed her onto the bed. " I reached down and ran the rough surface of my palm over her nipple while I began to fuck her harder and faster. As soon as Disha turned around she exclaimed "Oh My God" covered her face and buried it against me. " A gentle sheen of sweat now coated her soft breasts. She looked up at me and asked, "You really do like my boobs dont you? Her eyes went wide and she began to buck hard against me. I rammed her faster and deeper, staring down at the unbelievable sight of her angelic face. Dishas firm breasts swayed up and down with our fucking, her lovely body coated in a soft sweat, and her beautiful eyes always staring back at me. I worked my dick into her slowly a few more times before I paused. I felt her puss muscles contract and milk my dick inside her as the wetness of her orgasm washed over my buried penis. "Its feeling GOOD," Disha said. That night I fucked Disha 4 times. It was first casual sex experience for both of us. I slammed into her over hot girl with hairy pussy and over again, feeling her pussy grip me tightly. I reached down to play with a nipple while I continued to work my cock in and out of her. Im CUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMING! I withdrew almost to the tip before shoving the full length of my thick me back into her wet folds.