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cupid-styles · 2 months

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golf (sugar daddy h)

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint

sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Mia doesn't care about golf.

Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those.

And of course, Harry loves to golf.

It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.

Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go.

She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.

So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no.

Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand.

Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop.

"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"

"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."

He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself.

She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."

But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea.

. . .

Mia sucks at golf.

Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?)

"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"

Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end.

"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"

Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance.

Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it.

She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt.

"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"

"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"

"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."

She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much.

"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"

She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up.

"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head.

"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."

Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road.

"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."

Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.

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chiimi-png · 2 months

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112 Days of Uni [7/112]

🌒24/03/24🌔

Today I finished my Academic Writing assignment and then decided to start transcribing by hand my thesis assignment.

Thoughts on my first full week of uni:

Good professors make even a major you don't love something you enjoy.

Taking courses from other majors can help with the burnout.

The library is the best place to go to after class to work even if it's just for an hour.

I still hate the summer

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ebenrosetaylor · 1 year

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Please help a transgender art teacher pay his bills and replace stolen possessions!

(tw: animal death, robbery)

My name is Eben and I am a bi trans man who is getting his graduate degree in art education for grades 5-12. I also make stop motion and 2D animations and play d&d when I’m not teaching after school art lessons.

Last Wednesday (4/19) I had to put my cat Mila down after work and spent the rest of the day burying her. This was after another vet 7 days ago, where we did a procedure where she was likely not going to make it. She was 12 years old and I miss her so much, it hurts especially bad because I was in the process of legally making her my emotional support animal.

On Saturday I drove to the town my sister lives in and parked the car outside the gym we were going to together. One hour later I come outside and see that my car window has been smashed to pieces (along with 3 other cars) and my backpack has been stolen. Inside of that backpack was 2 years worth of teachers notes and lesson plans for every art class I’ve ever taught, which i have no way of replacing. My parents said they would take care of the car bills and I can replace most of the things in my backpack, which I have listed on my throne.

To top it all off, I got an email from my university telling me that tuition costs have been raised by 8% to make up for the time that It didn’t increase during the pandemic. Today they sent me an invoice for my summer semester of college, which I need to pay in a month.

This has been an extremely stressful past week for me and I really need some help either replacing the things that were stolen from me or helping me pay for the vet bills and college tuition. Please share this around if you can’t help directly!

Replace stolen items through throne

Paypal: @ERoseTaylor

CashApp: $russianblu

Venmo: @Eben-Taylor

Goal: $0/$8695

#artists helping artists #crowdfunding #boost #mutual aid #support #also you can put this in your queue so the traction doesn't slow down after a day or two #thank you so much for reading and sharing this

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jeonqkooks · 3 months

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obs drabble request for when jk and oc ditch class for the day to do something spontaneous 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

our beloved summer; a drabble

"I can't believe I let you talk me into ditching class."

"Y/N, it's an elective class. And you told me you handed in your midterm paper last week. You'll live."

"I would've preferred to maintain a perfect attendance rate!" You roll your eyes, but you still settle down next to him on a bench in the middle of this empty park near the store that Jungkook just dragged you to half an hour ago. It's a beautiful spring day, flowers blossoming all around you, painting everything in vibrant colors, eclipsing the residual melancholy of winter. Part of you is glad that you let him kidnap you from class; you prefer this to being stuck indoors for most of the afternoon anyway. "Whatever. Take your photo."

Your boyfriend grins brightly like a child in a candy store, admiring the ring on your finger before he kisses your hand. The fleeting feeling of his lips on your skin makes you soften, eases the harmless furrow between your brows that never held much annoyance in the first place.

The thick clay ring on your finger is heavy and uncomfortable, but you have to admit it's cute. Silly and might be more appropriate for a 7-year-old child, but it's cute. It's adorned with SpongeBob's face, two buck teeth and giant doe eyes and all. You would've loved shit like this when you were a kid.

He's wearing a matching one on his finger too, though his is pink instead of yellow, Patrick Star instead of SpongeBob SquarePants.

Jungkook holds his polaroid camera with one arm outstretched, while his free hand raises to fit into the photo, showcasing his ring for the shot. You scooch closer to him, mimicking his pose to display your yellow accessory. It takes him to a brief moment to adjust the angle, and before he snaps the photo, you press your lips to his cheek. You feel his bunny grin widen, and for a second you worry that the brilliance of it might just blind the camera.

The photo comes out a bit blurry, a bit out of focus, though it still managed to capture your happy faces and the rings, the carefree crinkle of his eyes and the pink tint on his cheeks. You know instantly that this is one of your favorite photos that you two will ever take.

"Okay, so what are we doing now?" you ask, watching him tuck the polaroid safely into his wallet.

"I don't know. What do you wanna do?"

"What do you mean you don't know? You abducted me."

He shrugs casually. "We could just sit here then. Enjoy the sun."

"You abducted me just to sit around?"

"Stop saying I abducted you. I'm your boyfriend."

You make a face, as if to try to weasel the last word in and argue that yes, Jungkook did abduct you today. Yes, he's also your boyfriend. Both of these things can be true.

Nonetheless, you still let your head rest upon his shoulder, still let his arm wound around your frame to hold you closer. You don't remember the last time you allowed yourself to be in the sun and enjoy a nice day out without worrying about getting ahead of schoolwork or internships. It's nice, like time has stopped for a while just for you to relish the feeling of warm sunshine on your skin.

"I get sleepy if I stay in the sun for too long," you say, already sensing it creeping up from behind your eyelids.

"Then sleep. Just do nothing for the rest of the day," he murmurs, angling his face to the right so he can press a kiss against your forehead. "I know you barely slept last night."

You didn't tell him that you did, in fact, stay up until 5:30AM, hunched over your notebook, trying to finish a piece that you wanted to submit for an internship application. The only person you did tell was Taehyung, when you texted him in the middle of the night with a bunch of keyboard smashes to complain about how tired you were.

You call his name softly, as gentle as the cherry blossom petal that sways in front of you before it falls to the ground. "Did you get me to skip class just so I would take a nap?"

Jungkook's reply is immediate, a half-steady No, but you know he's lying. He has a tell when he lies, one that makes the end of his sentences come out with a tiny lilt, makes his voice go just a note higher.

Looking down at your hands resting next to each other, you keep your lips pursed as your chest tightens. He'd convinced you to miss class because he knew you wouldn't do it on your own accord just to stay home and catch up on sleep. The rings catch on some light, the pit of your stomach catches on some butterflies. Jungkook is warmer than spring itself.

You intertwine your fingers and close your eyes, mostly because you feel them start to burn and you'd rather not dwell on that thought right now. You'd rather focus on the weight of the ring on your finger and how comforting your hand feels in his, how his thumb rubs over your skin back and forth like he always does.

The thought that Jungkook cares about you enough to make up a dumb excuse just so you would care about yourself more - you'll have to shelve it away for later, to mull over when you're alone.

"Love you," you say quietly, squeezing his hand once.

More petals fall. Another kiss pressed against your forehead. "I love you too."

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wonnieaura · 14 days

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THE ULTIMATE SUMMER GLOW UP GUIDE

Wanna glow up this summer? Here are some few tips I’ve put down for y’all to help everyone of y’all have the best summer ever. You’re welcome girlies 🥹💗🫶🏻

Skincare

1. Hydration

- Drink plenty of water.

- Use hydrating serums and moisturizers.

- Apply a hydrating mask weekly.

2. Sun Protection

- Use broad-spectrum SPF 30+ daily.

- Reapply sunscreen every 2 hours.

- Wear protective clothing and hats.

3. Cleansing

- Double cleanse at night.

- Use a gentle, hydrating cleanser.

- Exfoliate 1-2 times a week.

4. Targeted Treatments

- Use vitamin C serum in the morning.

- Apply retinoids at night (if not too sensitive).

- Incorporate a hyaluronic acid serum.

Haircare

1. Hydration and Protection

- Use a leave-in conditioner.

- Apply a heat protectant before styling.

- Wear hats or use UV protection sprays.

2. Styling

- Embrace natural textures.

- Avoid excessive heat styling.

- Use lightweight, non-greasy products.

3. Maintenance

- Get regular trims.

- Deep condition weekly.

- Use a clarifying shampoo once a month.

Nutrition

1. Hydration

- Drink at least 8 glasses of water a day.

- Consume water-rich foods (fruits and vegetables).

- Limit caffeine and alcohol intake.

2. Balanced Diet

- Eat plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables.

- Incorporate lean proteins and whole grains.

- Limit processed foods and sugars.

3. Supplements

- Consider taking a multivitamin.

- Use omega-3 supplements.

- Incorporate probiotics for gut health.

Fitness

1. Cardio

- Engage in at least 150 minutes of moderate-intensity cardio per week.

- Try activities like swimming, running, or cycling.

- Include interval training for variety.

2. Strength Training

- Do strength training exercises 2-3 times a week.

- Focus on all major muscle groups.

- Incorporate bodyweight exercises like squats and push-ups.

3. Flexibility

- Stretch daily or after workouts.

- Consider yoga or Pilates classes.

- Focus on full-body stretches.

Mental Wellbeing

1. Mindfulness

- Practice meditation or deep breathing exercises.

- Keep a journal for reflection.

- Spend time in nature.

2. Stress Management

- Engage in hobbies or activities you enjoy.

- Set aside time for relaxation.

- Connect with friends and family.

3. Sleep

- Aim for 7-9 hours of sleep per night.

- Establish a regular sleep schedule.

- Create a calming bedtime routine.

Fashion

1. Wardrobe Essentials

- Invest in versatile summer pieces (e.g., sundresses, shorts).

- Choose breathable fabrics like cotton and linen.

- Opt for light and bright colors.

2. Accessories

- Use statement sunglasses and hats.

- Incorporate light scarves and jewelry.

- Carry a stylish yet functional bag.

3. Footwear

- Wear comfortable yet stylish sandals.

- Opt for breathable sneakers.

- Ensure proper foot care with pedicures.

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lunaloveeee · 4 days

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past lives

chapter one

In one age, your elbow is tucked in the crook of your father's arm, held tight as he guides you toward a pale-haired figure who watches you with his piercing eye - the man you're arranged to marry.

In another, your elbow is propped on a cedar table in the library, your head heavy as the endless hours of research and swirling words on a page are drowned out by thoughts of your classmate who sits beside you - daydreams about running your fingers through his pale hair, about finally feeling his piercing gaze on every part of you.

Time ripples with these familiar echoes. And as you turn each dusty page - when each word beckons past and future to collide - you ask yourself: Is my end already written?

aemond targaryen x f!reader || dual timeline, second chance, modern day (but also set in the past), soulmate au.

masterlist | ao3 link, for those who prefer.

Anticipation is a funny thing. It’s the body’s innate way of setting an expectation, of looking forward to an event, an opportunity, a change. It’s also interesting, in that often it can do exactly the opposite of what you would like it to. For example, you know you’re meant to wake up early for class today.

It’s a class many dream to take with a professor who touts many accolades throughout their career, and it’s only offered as a summer class. Only — you don’t wake up early for class. In fact, by the time you roll over to reach over and slap your alarm clock on your phone off, you realize it never even went off in the first place. Nervousness had led you to staying up until the early hours of the morning. The repercussions are clear now as panic-stricken fingers tremble as they reach across the surface of your night table, grasping at air until colliding with the edge of your iPhone. Oh no, you slap a hand to your forehead, 7:30. Class starts at eight, and if there’s one thing you know about this professor it’s that they’re prompt. Punctuality is not a laughing matter.

“Crap,” you nearly shriek, rolling off the bed completely in your haste, grunting as your body collides with the carpeted floor below. “Lydia?!”

The apartment is silent. Lydia must have stayed out the night before at her fiancé’s place. Suiting, as they would be marrying at the end of summer and finally moving in tighter once your lease expires. Choosing to ignore the impending realization of having to find a new place soon on top of everything else you have presently going on in your life, you quickly dart over to the closet in search of something to wear. Two weeks of laundry sits in a hamper, taunting you, the offerings of your closet dwindling with each thrust of a hanger as you rummage about.

“Come on, come on,” you cry, settling on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt that probably should be thrown away at this point, as the edges are fraying, but it’s all you have at the moment that isn’t in need of a wash.

It’s a mad stumble over to your mirror, shrugging out of your clothes and slipping into new ones, taking in the horrifying state of the makeup you never took off the night before. Mascara and eyeliner has since smudged along your cheeks in your sleep, and it seems you’re doing a great impersonation of a raccoon. You don’t have much time, so you make work of brushing your teeth and washing your face at the same time — not a simple task — and blow a strand of your messy hair out of your face, giving that a quick brush before deciding you’ll have to forego makeup this morning. Already off to a great start, you huff out a sigh, snatching your backpack from the floor and phone off the charger. Fortunately, your school is a quick few blocks away that you manage to run, ignoring the protesting blisters that are likely forming on the bottom of your sandal-covered feet.

Students whirl around as you enter, muttering your apologies under your breath as the professor reprimands, “Lateness will not be tolerated, Miss…”

You provide your name, slouching as you make your way over to a seat beside Lydia and think about all the ways you might disappear off the face of the earth. And quick, preferably.

Her blue eyes scour your features, gesturing to the state of your clothes and the bedraggled hair on your head. “In a little rush this morning?”

“My alarm never went off,” you tell her in a low growl, quieting as the professor stands to his feet and draws the attention of everyone in the room with their booming voice.

“The summer syllabus is simple, students. I want passion. I want exploration. I want you to research something that gives you life. So I want you to explore, to really dig into the material, to see why history is still a living, breathing, thing.”

The professor’s words ring throughout the classroom. It’s a small one, housing only twenty-eight students for the summer course, but naturally they’re the most eager of your classmates. You recognize most of them — the history major itself is not very popular at this school as it is. But that’s not to say you’re friendly with most of them, so when the professor announces you’re to pair up before they explain the project any further, you immediately blurt out your best friend, Lydia’s, name. Only she’s holding onto the hand of her fiancé, looking up at him like the sun quite literally shines out his ass.

“Babe…” she starts, frowning piteously, and you raise a hand, not needing her to finish, “You could try Demi —”

“Demi is working with Paul,” Chase tells you both, curling his girlfriend closer to his chest. “I saw her run over and grab him.”

Damn you, Chase. A forced smile tugs your lips. It’s not like the morning can get any worse. “No, no — it’s fine. I can work with…” Your eyes circle the room, a groan of frustration spilling from you when you find most of your classmates already pairing off. You start to question if you spoke too soon, if things could actually get worse, and then — “Aemond Targ. Uh —” A pause. “Aemond?”

“Yes?” he asks, sounding bored as ever, head rising from whatever he’s scribbling in his notebook.

Aemond…well, you wouldn’t call him your friend. He’s really not anyone’s friend in class; mostly keeps to himself, aquiline nose always in a book of some sort. Even now, he regards you with very little care. His lips are pursed, in disapproval if you had to guess, the scar bisecting his prosthetic eye (you only know this because people gossip around campus), pinkened against pale flesh stretched taut along angular features, silvery blonde hair wavy against his forehead.

It’s unfortunate he’s so beautifully handsome, sculpted like the gods of old, and yet so…

“You called my name,” he repeats, tucking his book beneath his notebook. You can barely make out ‘weaponry’ scrawled on the binding. Curious. His eyes trail down to where yours have seemingly chosen to linger. “Hm.”

Lydia presses at your lower back in your clear hesitance that has you rooted on the spot under his stare, pushing you forward, whispering. “He’s not going to bite.”

Swallowing thickly, you laugh, muttering, “I was wondering if you wanted to…be my partner for the project.” Aemond glances over his shoulder, looking to see if you’re truly talking to him, and you wish for the ground to open up beneath you at the way he eventually returns his focus to you and smirks. Your stomach plummets, chest burning with your growing embarrassment. “Look — if you’re going to make fun, I —”

“I won’t prolong your evident misery. I’ll be your partner.” And he says it with that accent of his, that reminds you he’s not from New York, that he’s seen the other side of a world you’ve only read about in books.

“It was not evident misery,” you grumble beneath your breath as you stalk over to the chair directly beside his, hearing the professor’s voice call out above the din that everyone is to make their way back to their seats. With a thump, you drop down beside Aemond, not missing the way he shifts further away from you — as though the very thought of you simply touching might ruin his day. “I am quite mysterious, I’ll have you know.”

“What?” he asks, leaning in a little toward your ear.

“Hmpf.” Your arms cross, head tips upward in defiance, and lean back against the chair, awaiting further direction.

All in all, the project is simple. Instead of the traditional six weeks spent in a classroom, you are to use the six weeks of class to work on your summer project. The professor does not care how it is done — be it worked on literally together, or within a shared document. They just want it to be a culmination of actual interest. Something not derivative. Something new, invigorating, something you’re passionate about.

Which you suppose is simple enough, but through your limited scope of exploration in the last twenty something years of your life…by the time you return to your shared apartment later that evening, Lydia is ready to glue your fingers together because of your incessant tapping on the keyboard. Because as it stands, you have no idea what you feel passionate about.

“You're going to destroy your backspace button.” She’s grimacing as she pours a glass of wine, handing you one, then pours another for herself.

“The letters are already worn off,” you point out, sipping gratefully at the rosé. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because you enjoy your major,” Lydia states plainly, dragging you over by the hand to the living room couch, “because you care. Because you’ve been dreaming of taking this class for ages and convinced us all to take it with you, because you said it’s the best the school has to offer.”

Pouting, you whine, “I want to care less.”

“Have you texted Aemond? Maybe he has ideas?”

You level her with a frown. “He actually hates me. I think he took pity on my soul to work with me; he could see a sad, lonely me standing in the corner with no partner. It was like gym class back in high school all over again —”

“Now that is dramatic,” Lydia giggles, choking a little on her wine. “From where I was standing, he only looked at you with mild disdain.”

“You know, from Aemond Targ, that’s practically a love declaration. Move over, Mr. Darcy.”

Groaning, you press your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tug out your phone. His contact is there, in the form of ‘Ae-hole’ — for asshole, naturally. It brings a little — slightly evil — grin to your lips that has Lydia leaning in closer to see what it is you’re laughing at.

“How should I start…?”

Lydia stares into your eyes, giving you an ‘are you serious’ look. “Hello might be a good start, you weirdo.”

Waving a hand in front of you with a swirling flourish, you begin, “Hello, Partner. I hope this is a good time — although, seeing as it’s seven on a Friday night…I would say it’s a little sad if you’re already sleeping —”

“Babe,” Lydia warns, cutting you off.

Backspace, backspace, backspace. “I hope you’re having a good afternoon. Thank you again for showing mercy, it means a lot to little ol’ me. You’re probably wondering why I’m texting you on a Friday night. Well — shit! I accidentally sent it.”

There’s silence in your shared apartment, and you chug the remainder of your wine glass in anticipation. Holding out a pathetic hand, Lydia snatches your cup and refills yours and her own, dropping back down beside you on the sofa. Little dots appear on your phone screen, and then —

Ae-hole: I am wondering why you’re texting me at all, actually.

A knife emoji is typed out, but Lydia tuts and you backspace. “I wasn’t actually going to send it,” you tell her, blanching.

“Sure you weren’t.”

Ae-hole: I’m assuming you want to talk about the project?

“He is so charming,” you drawl, practically seething at your phone.

Fingers press against the keyboard, striking swiftly with your next words — and backspacing the ones that are a little more colorful and mildly offensive (Lydia’s suggestion, naturally). In the end, you settle on: ‘I was wondering if you had any ideas. Anything you’re passionate about? You seem…refined and…worldly. Hop, skip, and a jump across the world and all of that. Isn’t that the saying?’

Ae-hole: I’m from England, not Mars.

“Well isn’t he a ray of bloody sunshine,” you grind out, pressing your phone screen to your forehead in exasperation. “This is useless.”

Another text comes through a second later.

Ae-hole: I’ll think about it. Let’s bounce ideas back and forth over the weekend. How is that?

——

Clothes bounce and roll around in the dryer when the first texts come through. Aemond’s suggestions are intriguing enough, sure, but you’re hours deep into two week’s worth of laundry, so it shouldn’t really be much of a surprise when you hop up onto one of the folding tables and type out. ‘How do we feel about Khal Drogo?’ — Just to get a rise out of him.

The buzzer goes off on your machine and you begin folding when he finally replies. Part of you wishes you might see the look on his face when he reads the message to himself, watching those little bubbles appear and disappear multiple times before he must have finally hit ‘send.’

Ae-hole: Are you quite…passionate about Khal Drogo?

A giggle spills from you, drawing the attention of a woman reading a gossip magazine that touts the latest scandal. Her lip curls at the loud interruption, and you wonder if you might get kicked out of your favorite laundromat should a folded pair of socks end up as a projectile object.

‘I mean…have you seen the old drawings? Call me Khaleesi, am I right?’

His reply comes quickly. Almost instantly, really.

Ae-hole: Striking Khal Drogo and any related topics off the list.

‘Rude.’

Ae-hole: I didn’t complain when I crossed out ‘Free Folk migration patterns’ earlier.

‘Aemond, no one is passionate about that.’

——

It’s Saturday night and you’re out to dinner with Lydia and Chase at some fancy Italian restaurant that definitely pushes your ramen noodle budget.

They’re talking wedding plans, bridesmaids dresses, and groomsmen and you’re scrolling through social media, flicking past reels and memes and you land on a history meme with a familiar face that has you reaching for your cell phone.

‘What about this: Hodor, man, myth, or legend that he is?’

You attach the photo for reference, at which Aemond reacts with a thumbs down.

Ae-hole: Sometimes I wonder if you’re being serious or if you’re just trying to screw with me.

Lydia raises a brow your way, head tilting at the smile that unknowingly blooms across your lips. “Are you good over there?”

“Huh?” Lifting your head, you snap to attention, “What were we talking about?”

“We were talking about our entrance songs. I wanted to get your opinion…” Lydia trails off, leaning over to try and see who you’re texting. You tuck it away into your back pocket, feeling your cheeks burn hot. “But it seems like you’re elsewhere. It’s fine, I’ll let you keep your secrets, you weirdo.”

And maybe, just maybe, as Lydia leans back in to throw her ringed hand over her fiancé’s arm, you sneak off to go to the bathroom to text back your history partner.

‘Hodor is NEVER a laughing matter.’

It’s worth it, if only because it’s the most fun you’ve been in a bit…even if he doesn’t reply.

——

“I always hated this next season,” Lydia sighs, leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve lined around the floors for your TV binge night.

“We can stop after this one if we want? Pretend it doesn’t exist.”

“No,” she decides, “let’s keep going.”

These nights have become a weekly thing over the years — a way to keep the ‘Sunday Scaries’ at bay. You wonder how soon that’ll change once she’s married and living with Chase, but decide not to dwell on that for now.

Instead you return your attention to the screen, where Jon Snow and Danaerys Targaryen are sleeping together for the first time, unknowing of his parentage. It’s a loose retelling and wrought with historical inaccuracies, you know this, of the history of Westeros — but it’s also highly addictive. Unfortunately, the last season of the show adaptation, right before it was sadly canceled, truly left much to be desired. Still, it remains your favorite, and you rewatch religiously with your best friend, often turning to it as a comfort show.

It’s only then, your body cocooned beneath a fluffy blanket, that a sudden idea strikes you.

‘What about dragons?’

Your mind jumps to the CGI dragons that you’ve seen on your screen, the ones you’ve seen in textbooks and children’s books growing up. Great beasts with large wings — tails, talon, and teeth that could rip one to shreds. People rode on them back in the day, soaring high above the world, immense power beneath them — one with them.

Ae-hole: The Targaryen family?

‘Yeah, don’t you find all of that so interesting? I mean, they rode on dragons, Aemond!’

The next episode of your show begins, Lydia’s face awash in the bright light as the HBO logo flashes there in the reflection of her glasses. “Have you guys settled on a topic yet?” she asks, gesturing to the phone in your hand.

“Not yet,” you mutter, reading his next message. “But I think we might be getting close.”

Ae-hole: It was also a really…abysmal time. All of it, really. Starting from Aegon and ending with Daenerys.

‘Killed by her lover.’

Ae-hole: How most love stories end, it seems.

‘Don’t know what kind of love stories you’ve read but — anyway! I feel like there is so much there. We could start researching and try to find something that intrigues us?’

Ae-hole: I admit it’s an area I haven’t read much about. It’s one of those things in classes they talk about so briefly. Which was always so strange, seeing as not only did the family line die out — but the dragons, too.

‘See! Look at us, coming to our first ever agreement. I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your Sunday. We can text tomorrow about when we want to meet up and start honing in on our topic. Sounds good?’

Ae-hole: Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

“Well?” Lydia asks, and you’re smiling, endlessly smiling.

“It seems we have a topic,” you tell her, flopping onto your stomach, reaching into the popcorn bowl to fish out an M&M in the mix of salty goodness. “Finally.”

“You two seem to be getting along,” she says, and it’s the tone in her voice, the searching within it, that has you turning your head and narrowing your eyes. Innocence blooms in the jut of her bottom lip, in the tilt of her head. “What?”

“He’s my partner,” you remind her, shaking visions of his dark and stormy features out of your head when they announce themselves unbidden in your mind’s eye. “And he’s kind of an asshole. Now let me watch my silly history show in peace, woman!”

——

Corner Street Coffee sits a few blocks away from Columbia University, sitting quite literally on a corner of a street. The money isn’t great, but the customers are, and you’ve found that after a few years working here, it’s one of your favorite places to be other than the library studying away.

“What can I get you?” Your voice is bubbly and bright as expected of you.

You’ve been running around behind the glass case for hours, sweat likely dotting your forehead and hair a mess, the morning rush finally behind you, when your next customer appears before you. As you lift your head, air spills from your lungs in a giant rush. Standing there is none other than Aemond Targ in all his glory — as in, he’s dressed down for once. His usual dress shirt has been swapped for a simple black tee shirt that shows off way too much of his arms and a pair of dark wash jeans.

“Is it typical that you stare at your customers for this long?” he queries, head tilting to the side.

“I’ve just never seen you outside of the classroom,” you admit, though that’s not true. If you’re being honest, you’ve seen him at the library often. He keeps to himself there, always settled at a table or on one of the couches, typically positioned by a window to watch the bustling city move and swirl below. Shaking your head rapidly, you continue, “Just…surprised me, is all.”

“Hm.”

“Can I get you a coffee then?” You whirl around, reaching out to grasp a cup in hand. “Black, perhaps?”

“Is that a remark on my soul?” he asks, stepping in closer to the counter.

“Let it be known on the record that you said that,” you laugh, writing out his name on the top of the cup, “not me. So, what does Aemond Targ like to start his…afternoons?” The clock reads noon, you notice as you squint a bit. Fortunately, or unfortunately for you, there are no other customers waiting to be served. Most have settled into their studies or chatting with friends along the many tables positioned around the building perimeter.

“An Americano, black, two sugars.”

Maybe you’re dreaming, maybe you expect too much from him, but when you narrow your eyes his way the corner of his mouth twitches — and it’s the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen on his face, and you’ll take it as a small victory to kick off the next few weeks with him.

“I actually came here to proposition you —”

“That sounds sexy,” your coworker, Markus, teases as you pass him Aemond’s cup along to be made.

Aemond ignores him, focusing on you as he continues, “It…might be outlandish. And you can say no, though I’d be a little upset as I’ve already done something impulsive.”

“I’m listening.”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Come with me to London.”

Your stomach drops, because there’s no way he said what he has. “You say it so casually,” you prattle mockingly, an overly airy lilt to your words, “‘come with me to London,’ he says. I have a job, Aemond. And what are you…rich or something? We’re broke college students, and I’m pretty sure tickets to London are expensive.”

Aemond gives a little dismissive, blasé shrug. So he’s rich, rich.

“His father, Viserys, is quite literally the Hotel King,” Markus interrupts, handing Aemond his coffee over the counter. His lip ring glints as he points to the building across the street and says, “T Hotel.”

You’re contemplating how you haven’t quite put two and two together about the fact you never even realized his name was on a building you stared at every day as your manager, Solene, appears from counting money in the back room.

“Take her off our hands,” Solene orders. “She hasn’t asked for a day since her accident.”

“Hm.” Aemond sips his drink, eying you wearily. “Accident?”

Changing the subject, because that’s not a light conversation at all to be had with a literal stranger, you tell her, “He’s trying to steal me away for a long time…like — well, how long?”

“Five weeks,” Aemond says, like it’s the simplest thing he’s said all afternoon.

Your head whips around, brows high on your forehead. “Five weeks?! You can’t be serious.”

Another shrug. “I figured we needed the time for research.”

Markus whistles. Solene’s lips curl into a feral grin full of scheming and plotting and you want to be mad but your heart swells instead. “She’s due for a vacation. I can’t get rid of her; even when she’s off she’s here.” A pause, and then, “In fact, you’re fired for the next five weeks. Effective immediately.”

Eye twitching, you raise a finger at Markus and Solene. “You’re traitors.” Markus chuckles. “Both of you!”

“Goodbye,” Solene sing-songs, waving at you as you untie your apron from around your waist and toss it onto a nearby hook. “Enjoy London. It’ll be your first time abroad. Take lots of pictures!”

Aemond trails behind you on your way outside, the door swinging shut behind you both with a lyrical chime. He takes it upon himself to grab the nearest chair and pull it out for you, tipping his head in the slightest so you get the memo and drop down onto it. Once you’re settled, he joins on the other side, taking another sip of his drink, anticipating your latest outburst.

“Five weeks?” Heart hammering, you run your fingers along your bare forearm, trying to wake yourself from whatever fantastical dream you’ve found yourself caught within. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a lot of money,” you remind him, chewing on your bottom lip, “I can pay you back in installments, I just can’t afford it out right at this moment. I just paid my rent and my phone bill and I —”

“Don’t worry about it.” Another sip. “My family flies so much, it was basically free. I always go home for the summer, so I figured I might bring you with me. For the project.”

“Right,” you whisper, voice trailing in the wake of the thoughts swirling around in your head, “for the project. And you’re certain you want me there?”

“Yes —”

“That’s five weeks of constant me. I’m an early riser. I start the day with a run — not really, but maybe I’ll take up running in England.”

“Hm.”

“I also snore. I get car sick on long rides. I’m a serial music-changer.”

“Serial music-changer?”

You nod. “I can’t listen to the same song for more than thirty seconds before changing it. It’s an impulse or something, I don’t know how to stop it.”

“It’s not that unusual,” he states, a little too calmly, “you remind me of my brother, Aegon, in a lot of ways. Will you stop trying to talk me out of my decision?”

Your fingers snap together. “What about your family? Won’t you want to see them?”

“Naturally.” His head dips. “My mother already knows you’re coming with me for the project. She’s asked that you come along — if you’re open to that, of course. She and my father like to host.”

“Oh.” Your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. “I mean…if it’s no trouble —”

“Then it’s settled.” He rises to his feet. “You’ll come?”

Standing to join him, you say, “Yeah.” You grab your things. “I’m temporarily fired anyway, thanks to you.”

He stares at you evenly, eyes glazed over a bit in thought. “Which way is your apartment?”

Your eyes narrow, not quite understanding his meaning. “Uhm…”

“To walk you home,” he supplies, with what you might call a groan, only it’s much more reserved than any sound you might have produced of the same nature.

“Oh, you don’t…” Words trail off at the glare he shoots you. A thumb is thrown over your shoulder, head tipping in the way of home. Aemond dips his head, following your lead. “Thank you.”

The roads are busy even for this time of day, bodies brushing your’s and Aemond’s as you walk. Cars honking greet your ears, the familiar smell of exhaust in your lungs. Summer hasn’t fully rained down on New York City’s streets, but it’s always warmer here — clings in a way that it doesn’t anywhere else. Part of you wants to ask Aemond why he chose to study in the place you’ve lived all your life, but the words dry up in your throat, caught in the nervousness like sticky tar in your belly.

“So you’ve never been out of the country?” Aemond’s voice carries over the chatter of a group of women out to brunch, the open doors of a restaurant spilling sound onto sidewalks.

You haven’t really been much of anywhere. New York, Long Island here and there — Florida, for a girl’s trip. The past few years haven't really been conducive for traveling, as it is.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p,’ glancing at him over your shoulder. “This will be my first time.”

“Hm.”

It’s quiet again, save for the world around you and the flip-flop of your shoes beneath you. You’re only made aware you’ve arrived at your apartment building when you step up onto the curb in front of it and Aemond calls your name. It sounds so…odd coming from him; coming from someone who you’ve rarely spoken to, but was always aware was living life in the background of yours.

“Oh — this is my place.”

“Okay.” He tosses his drink into a nearby garbage can, and you can’t help the way your eyes linger on the curves of his arms, the defined ridges of muscle there.

“Look, I’m really grateful that you want to bring me home with you but it feels like too much, and I —”

“Please,” he starts, cutting you off, “it’s really nothing.”

To you, to you it’s everything. It’s…an opportunity you’ve never had before.

“Okay.” Your bottom lip settles between your teeth. It’s decided, then. “When do we leave?”

“I’ll be here to pick you up Friday at four for our flight at seven”

“In the afternoon?”

“Morning.”

Your throat bobs with a swallow. “Okay, four in the morning. We’ll get coffee?”

In the light, you think he almost smiles. Almost. “We’ll get coffee.”

“Have a good day,” he says, jolting you from your silent reverie. “Friday, remember.”

“Friday.”

Waving goodbye, you open the door behind you, slipping into the main area and rushing up the stairs leading to your floor. People passing by throw themselves against the stair railing as you barrel past, your shouts of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ doing little against the suddenness of your exhilaration. But you’re on a mission. You’re reeling — spinning like a top, brain moving a mile a minute. Trying to plan outfits in your mind, dreaming of potential excursions, trying to process that you’re finally getting away after long years of being stuck in one place. Sure, you’ll be working on a project as well, but it’s one of those ‘once in a lifetime’ sort of experiences that has fallen into your lap, the kind of thing that only happens in movies, and you’re not going to put it to waste.

Lydia’s watching Love Island without you (rude) as you enter, and just as another bombshell enters the villa, you enter the apartment, shrieking, “You will never guess what just happened!”

——

#aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction

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moodywyrm · 1 year

Note

What do you think about horny Abby all spread out, whimpering and groaning, while getting herself off and forcing the reader to sit on the bed infront of her and watch ? Like maybe she’s purposely trying to send the reader crazy as a form of punishment for teasing abby all week? Idk Abby’s just so pretty it kinda frazzles my brain 😩

what's driving me crazy here is that abby doesn't even have to tie you up or restrain you in any way, she just tells you to sit and you do. of course you do, you're her good girl at heart. just been a lil pent up and needy this week, right?

even so, you've been teasing her all fucking week. running your hands over her biceps, clinging to her, toying at the edge of her pants and her boxers, pressing your tits into her when you hug. even going so far as to push your knee between her legs when you cuddle or makeout, trying to make abby needy.

and god it's working. she's supposed to be focusing on school because her summer classes just started and yet she has her needy girl clinging to her 24/7. so the second she got a night off, courtesy of her busting her ass the day before and knocking out any work that would prevent her from ruining you, she dragged you into the bedroom and sat you at the edge of the bed.

it's been an hour and she's cum twice, sprawled out against the headboard and looking fucking divine. her hair is loose, blond wisps clinging to her sweat slicked skin. all that beautiful, freckled skin flushed with heat and shining under the dim light. the soft fat of her tits bouncing with her movements, just enough to make your mouth water at the sight of her hard nipples. muscles flexing and moving as she writhes, her thighs twitching in an effort to stay open. her knees are bent and her feet are planted on the bed, spread wide to show you her glistening cunt.

and it's a fucking sight. her cunt is sucking in a hot pink rabbit vibrator, the ears nestled tight against her clit and making her whine. the ways she's angled the part inside her is driving her insane, the vibrations against her g-spot making her leak profusely. abby thanks every rational part of her brain for setting down a thick towel before she began, because she can feel the slick trickling out of her. she's approaching her third orgasm and god if she doesn't sound incredible.

"shit, shit, 'feels so fucking good, mhhm"

"oh my god, feels so good in me, fuck"

she's grinding the toy into her, drooling at the sensation against her sensitive little clit. her head is so incredibly fuzzy and everything's so fucking hot, but she's very very aware of the other presence in the room.

her gorgeous little tease of a girlfriend, sitting at the edge of their bed wearing nothing but a pretty set of lingerie that Abby picked out. she helped dress you in a set that you look gorgeous in and then forced you to sit still and be good, unable to touch abby or yourself. you're trying not to wiggle, but it's so hard when Abby looks so fucking gorgeous. every inch of her is heavenly, blessed by the gods, and god the sounds she's making are driving you insane. her moans and whimpers, of course, but also the slick sound of her fucking her pussy. it's obscenely loud, the gushing slide of the vibrator grinding into her. it was even louder when Abby was fucking two thick fingers into her, hooking into her pretty cunt and making her groan in a way that made you throb.

at this point you're completely soaked, slick dripping down your thighs onto the towel abby set beneath you. it's ridiculous how worked up abby's got you, but you really can't complain.

you know that as long as you're good, abby will take care of you. if you somehow survive her third orgasm, as she shakes and gushes and gently squirts onto the bed, one rough hand groping at her tits. it's so hot you nearly cum on the spot and/or pass out, but it's all worth it when abby pulls the wet toy out of her pussy and crawls over to you, shoving the part that was inside her down your throat.

she's gentle with it, fucking your throat and giggling at the way you moan at her taste. she slides one hand down your body, sliding into your panties and pressing at your neglected clit, murmuring to you and making you lightheaded.

"you were so good for me, my pretty girl. can finally take care of you like you deserve, yeah?"

#anon #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader smut

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solarwonux · 8 months

Text

Business Proposal || knj (7/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst,

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 5.8k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

a/n: hello hello hellooooo, this one is more of a filler one to get everything started. Still, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. lmk your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tag list!

m.list || series m.list || wattpad

prev || next

10 years ago

The first time you ever met Kim Namjoon, the leaves were just beginning to change in color. The fall season was approaching. The greens of the summer were slowly fading into vibrant autumn hues. Replacing the obnoxious sticky heat, for humid and cooler winds. The leaves still hadn’t fallen, the foliage was at its peak and you were desperately trying to stay afloat.

Somehow, you had gotten roped into a math class. Well, you weren’t necessarily roped into it. You were forced into it. It was part of the prerequisite requirements and because you had barely passed all of your Algebra exams in high school, you couldn’t plead the advisory board to accept those credits. They would’ve just laughed in your face and sent you away with a list of professors who specialized in the devil made subject.

Now, you had hoped that college algebra was a bit easier, after three weeks of a summer intensive course you were proven wrong. You weren’t necessarily failing, but you weren’t passing either. Though, in a panic-induced state full of hope you had done the math - ironic, and came to the conclusion that if you didn’t pass the final exam, you wouldn’t be able to move onto part two of the class.

If you had done things differently, you would’ve taken the classes at the start of your degree, just as your academic advisor had suggested. You didn’t and now you are two semesters away from a beautiful bachelors degree in arts. Achieving an impressive double major in Writing and Rhetoric and Journalism with a minor in International Communications, along with a tasteful three point nine GPA.

You were almost there. You could savor it as you looked into master degree programs. The looming debt of your student loans was the least of your worries. At least for now. If you didn’t pass the stupid final exam, in one of the easiest math classes you could ever take in college. You would be growing a larger hole in your loan repayment agreement with the prestigious HYBE U.

At this point you were desperate. Almost to the point in which you considered cheating. A blaspehmous thought that you only ever had in high school during science labs. Those gizmos computer stimulations were a quizlet file away, and the sweet taste of victory was even closer.

Yet, quizlet wouldn’t work out in this scenario and finally you caved, putting away your pride for a little bit to admit that you needed help.

A math tutor was the best option for you. Lots of college kids were desperate for another quick buck along with their less than promising part time jobs, while they struggled with juggling school in the process. You only hoped that the ad you posted on the HYBE U facebook group would workout, even if it had been a week ago and still hadn’t gotten any engagement.

Maybe it was time to accept the truth, what’s one more extra semester. Sure, it interferes with your descriptive five year plan, but you could somehow modify it. Right?

Wrong? So very wrong.

You needed a tutor quick. Probably in the next hour or so, because you refused to step foot in another math class again. Your life revolved around your rhetorical readings, feminist discoverings in Ancient Greece. You loved research, writing papers on things you found interesting, and developing a new perspective to already made discoveries. It was a rush. Not necessarily the writing part - it was tedious and sometimes you wondered why you even decided to pursue writing in the first place; but the sense of achievement and the ego boost you got when you typed the final sentence and the final period was euphoric. To then scroll through twenty plus pages of times new roman double spaced text that came from your brain, was a thrill. And one you would never achieve when it came to math.

Ugh!

“You good there?” You knew that voice. It was all too familiar. You had spent countless hours sitting in a lecture hall with him telling you jokes and writing you notes retelling you the rumors he heard about your math professor.

So, maybe, your total inability to see patterns when it came to numbers wasn’t completely your fault. But the fault of the raven haired, toothy smile of the muscle bunny that you had befriended in both your science lab and college algebra courses.

You lift your head up to see Jungkook with his head cocked to the side. His right eye was a bit swollen due to the sty he had developed from scratching his eye too much with his dirty germy hands. So, he had to opt to wear his glasses, his right eye lens was a bit thicker than the left, making his eyes look a bit disproportionate. If you weren’t aware of how successful he was at getting around with both women and men you would’ve thought otherwise, due to his geeky look and fascination with RPG games.

You groan, messing your hair with your silver ring cladded fingers. “No offense but math is the worst subject in this entire world. Why do we need it? I’m not going to use it to calculate the circumference of the can of beans I’m going to buy at the grocery store. Nor will I use the pythagorean theorem to measure the circumference of my pizza.” You rant, glancing at the time and closing your laptop.

Your self study session was unsuccessful because all you did was refresh the facebook page hoping someone would take your twenty dollars an hour offer.

Yes, you were incredibly desperate, even considering upping the price to appeal to more money hungry college students.

“The fact that you’re using geometry terminology regarding a simple college algebra class tells me everything I need to know.” He grins, partially leaning his body to the side, resting his weight on the umbrella handle he was carrying.

Fuck, you forgot it was going to rain today.

Your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Anyway, I’m guessing the tutor search isn’t working?”

“Bingo,” you snap your fingers at him before proceeding to gather the rest of your stuff.

This was the part you dreaded the most. The agonizing walk to your math lecture. Honestly, if it weren’t for Jungkook consistently meeting up with you in the cafe that connected to the hallway in the math building to walk to class together. You would’ve probably never turned up after the first class. Hence why you’re not in a sinking boat. Just a partially sinking boat.

Jungkook sighs, scratching the back of his head, watching you scoot out of the booth. He wishes he could offer you more help other than moral support and a few ‘You can do it,’ air punches. But between his computer science classes, and increasing doubt regarding his degree plaguing his mind, he’s found himself with zero free time.

That’s when he remembers something. A small passing comment made on his way to bathroom last night as he was getting ready for bed. Maybe he does have a way to help you. His face lights up, alerting you.

“What, why do you look like you’ve just seen a cheesecake on sale?” You adjust the strap of your leather bag, against your shoulder and make your way to his side, eyeing his umbrella.

Would it be weird to ask him to walk you home after class?

Shaking your head at the thought, a problem for later, you decide.

You shift your gaze to meet his. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and you’ve never been so desperate at knowing what goes on in that questionable head of his. He also never takes this long to say something. Once a thought pops into that head of his head, it's out in seconds because he’s afraid he might lose it.

You can thank his ADHD for that one.

“I think I might know someone who’s free on Tuesday and Thursday evenings that can probably help you out.” He squints, nodding his head, and you feel your mood turn right side up.

You knew befriending Jungkook would end up benefiting you one day. Though, you do feel a little bit irritated, couldn’t he have told you this wonderful news, um, I don’t know a week ago as you two sat in this exact same booth, while he watched you make the stupid facebook post.

You shove him a little, his umbrella buckling under his weight and he stumbles a bit, shock written all over his face. “What was that for?” He complains, taking a hold of his right arm in mock hurt.

“You’ve seen me suffer and you’re now just telling me that you magically happen to know someone who can tutor me this entire time.” You huff, shoving past him, glancing at your phone screen for the time. Class was in five minutes, unfortunately.

“That’s not necessarily true.” He speaks from behind you, and you throw him a glare making him buckle under the pressure. The dramatics. He’s only been your friend for almost four weeks, but he’s already gotten used to you and he knows he’s hit a vein, and that you’re so stubborn any explanation wouldn’t work. It is always worth a try.

“Okay maybe that’s true, but they’re pretty busy and I just assumed he would have a full schedule and no time to tutor you.” He explains, keeping up with your steps. The two of you arrive in front of the lecture hall with a minute to spare, you take it upon yourself to open the door, revealing the room full of stressed induced faces, quietly whispering to each other.

You shake your head at Jungkook’s explanation, making your way to your usual seats. In the middle but on the outside for a quick escape if ever needed. “How do you even know this person? I thought you only had two friends.” You place your bag gently onto your desk and sit down.

“Actually, including you, I have three friends.”

“My friends don’t count either.”

Jungkook rolls your eyes and slumps down next to you, spreading his legs wide, taking up all his leg room and part of yours. God, he was such a guy.

“Do you want my help or not?” He says in feigned annoyance.

You unzip your bag, fishing out your pencil and notebook, while he takes out his laptop. You could never understand how he was able to take math notes on a computer, but he was the self proclaimed computer genius. Well, his straight A’s in all of those freakishly hard classes were also proof, so, there must be a method to his madness.

You sigh, setting your bag down in the empty seat next to you. “Fine, yes, please, my perfect Jungkook. I’m desperate, put me out of my misery.” You plead, hands clenched in front of you as the hushing of the students dies down, and the greeting of your Spanish accent written professor echoes throughout the class. It’s your cue to shut up and hopefully pay attention.

“First, don’t ever say things like that.” Jungkook begins, leaning in closer to whisper, “it’s weird.” He says in disgust–the audacity. “Second, do you have plans after class?” He finishes leaning away and opening up a new blank document on his laptop.

You shake your head at his question and click down on your mechanical pencil. You were determined to at least understand one thing in today’s lesson. Jungkook doesn’t answer, your professors voice booming throughout as he begins the lesson of the day, and you’re distracted in seconds by the light tap on your shoulder.

You look over at your friend, his laptop screen turned in your direction so you can read the tiny invitation written in cosmic sans font. He’s a child.

Come with me to Serendipity after class and thank me later :p

You look up at him rolling your eyes at the ending emoji. A child indeed. But you nod in agreement, you don’t know what or who is at Serendipity. Except for a solution. At least that is what you hope for because there’s a reason why you haven’t stepped foot in there since childhood, despite Jungkook raving about it time and time again. The overpriced vanilla lattes is the main reason why.

Yet, desperate times come along with desperate measures. And if you need to drop a couple more on your favorite caffeinated drink in order to pass math. Then so be it.

Serendipity stood in between two worlds. It separated the lively college town from the perfect four person familial neighborhood. On weekday afternoons it was mostly frequented by college students who needed a change in scenery or remote workers with their bangs still in rollers and their eyes puffy from sleep. On Friday nights it was home to young adults grabbing dessert after a fulfilling dinner or a late caffeinated drink for a long night out. Tired office workers, likely forced to attend a company dinner, usually took up the long tables in the back wall of the first floor.

Sunday’s were a favorite at Serendipity, young families would come from different parts of town to enjoy a late brunch. And morning runners would waltz in for a late caffeine kick before the strenuous work out around the lake that offered the cafe it’s most famous view.

Dionysus Lake.

Just as its name implies. The lake was a place for celebration, festivities, and madness. It’s where everything would happen for the first time. Your first fall, your first scrape. The graduation ground from a four wheeled bike to a two one. The first time you saw your crush outside of school. The first time you held hands with someone and the downfall of your first friendship with your childhood best friend—Sabrina. I was the breeding ground of impulsive decisions like getting drunk on the steps that led to the bank. With beer and soju you had gotten because you paid a broke college student scrambling in between odd jobs to buy them for you. The breeding ground of many triple dog dares and the place in which you decided what your future would be like.

It was a right of passage from childhood to teenagehood and finally adulthood.

It’s where couples that beat the test of time go to enjoy their last moments of humanity. Both the cafe and the lake are full of nostalgia, and so famous that it now became a must see spot from people all over the city. With inflation and the influx of people both the cafe and the lake were places you and your family had started to frequent less, until eventually it was out of your minds completely and the longing for just a fleeting moment to visit before the chaos was gone.

That is until today.

Everything had changed so much. The rustic decor was now replaced with a mixture of antiques and plants hanging from every possible surface. The windows were now floor to ceiling and they opened up to a very cooling outside patio, where you could enjoy the view of the famous lake. They had even expanded to a second floor, and added a rooftop with fiery lights and wooden tables. It basically looked nothing like what you had grown up with and more like a pinterest board of garden core had thrown up on it.

It also had more menu options, and gone was your favorite blueberry and mint tea you and your mom would enjoy whenever your anxiety spiked to levels in which you could not control. Everything had been replaced with something more expensive and trendy. A complaint that had been surrounding the cafe for years by everyone who grew up inside the walls. Though you hadn’t really believed it until now because you were finally working up the courage to see it for yourself. And the one thing you can only really think about—apart from the overpriced vanilla latte you had just paid for—was how could a place so familiar feel so unfamiliar at the same time.

“Hobi always gives me a discount when I come.” Jungkook throws into the wind while he plays with the white buzzer in his hand.

Unlike you, Jungkook and his family—from what you have gathered—were regulars. As soon as he arrived every worker greeted him with a warm smile and a simple hand wave. Some had added a mention of seeing his mom earlier. And if you hadn’t been convinced, the barista with the high nose bridge, sporting the floral shirt, a bright yellow beanie and khaki pants had already inputted his order before Jungkook could mutter the words “iced americano with a splash of vanilla syrup please.”

“I’m sorry who?” You move your head closer, eyeing the way his hands wrapped around the buzzer. Desperately hoping for it to ring because although it was almost three and you probably shouldn’t really be drinking any form of caffeine at this time. Your body desperately needs something to keep you alert. Especially now that you were meeting your classmate's brother for the first time.

A brother who could possibly save you from failing your college algebra class. He had told you a little about him. Apparently, he wasn’t really his brother, but his mother remarried his father when Jungkook was young, so to make matters easier for everyone involved. He would just introduce him as his older brother. He called him Joon and he was currently working on his masters in philosophy. A real pretentious nerd if someone were to ask you. They lived together in an apartment just outside of the college town, and according to Jungkook, who you have noticed likes to input his opinion where it really doesn’t matter. He was still a virgin, because he lived and breathed philosophy like one of those weird philosophers from ancient times. The only thing he needed was a laurel crown and a toga.

His words not yours.

Basically he didn’t really do a very good job at painting a good image of his older brother. And you were already having some negative opinions regarding him because you have dealt with a handful of pretentious boys in many of your classes that you really didn’t feel like adding another one to the mix. But again, you’ll push your preconceived notions aside. This was for your four point zero GPA and your five year plan. One more insult to your psyche and intelligence wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

“The one that rang us up. He gave you one too, vanilla lattes are usually seven and you only paid six.” He points out before jumping at the sound of the buzzer going off. “I’ll get it.” He smiles standing up faster than you can protest, and walking off to the pick up counter.

It’s strange that the two of you became friends or clicked so well. And you like to think that it was mainly because you shared a few classes more than anything else. He was a little energizer bunny, a right arm sprinkled with a few tattoos and a scar right above his eyebrow where a piercing had been. You were not far from the opposite, but you did have a social battery that would often run out before the end of the day. You valued the quiet and apart from the many earrings decorating your ears and the hot pink peekaboo dye job you had your mom do. You were deathly scared of needles and didn’t look nearly as rebellious as Jungkook did, even with his stupid nerdy glasses.

“Hobi gave us cookies, on the house.” Jungkook says as he sets down the tray in front of you. “I think he might want your number.” He adds with a nonchalant tone before taking up his previous seat and getting a head start at setting the table.

You tilt your head in confusion as he pushes a plate with a matcha cookie your way. “You’re talking nonsense. I heard you ask for a chocolate chip cookie before you paid.” You roll your eyes, grabbing your tall glass of coffee.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pushing the brown tray to the side. “I ordered a cookie but I didn’t order two.” He points to your cookie. “Plus he couldn’t take his eyes off you while you ordered.” He finishes and takes a long sip of his drink. He finishes with a refreshed ah and smacks his lips together in satisfaction.

The drama.

That’s probably another thing the two of you did have in common. You’re both dramatic in your own ways. Something the two of you discovered about each other two weeks into knowing one another. It was a long story that involved a stubbed toe and a papercut. One that wasn’t worth reminiscing about now because it added nothing to both of your lives.

“I doubt that Kook, he’s just doing his job and he knows you.” You raise a finger at him and you take a long awaited sip of your coffee.

Jungkook crosses his arms in front of you. “Okay then why did he ask me if you were single.” He adds in a matter of fact way. Cocking an eyebrow to prove his point.

You narrow your eyes at him and kick him under the table. He recoils in pain, whispering explicits to not draw any more attention to the two of you. “You’re lying and I know you’re lying because I saw you order another cookie when you went to pick up our drinks.” You say leaning in closer so he can hear your whispering.

Here’s the thing. Jungkook has been trying to set you up with every guy he deems is cute. You on the other hand are not interested, mostly because you’re still young with your whole life ahead of you. And right now the only thing that matters is your degree.

What’s the rush?

He pouts, uncomfortably cradling his shin. “Fine, he didn’t give you a cookie on the house, but he did say you were cute. And he’s a nice guy. My brother is friends with him and he’s really funny.”

You sigh, breaking a piece from your cookie. “I'm happy to hear that but you know that’s not a priority of mine now.”

Jungkook rests his elbows onto the table and leans forward. “Have you ever heard of a work- life balance?” Because all you do is work and you should be out and partying. Your twenties are supposed to be full of fun.”

“I do have fun, Jungkook.” You point out, putting the piece of cookie into your mouth before crossing your arms in annoyance. If you had a coin for every time someone in your life tried having this exact same conversation with you, then you’d probably be able to afford more of these over priced lattes.

Jungkook sits back with his arms crossed, tonguing the inside of his cheek in suspicion. Sure, he’s only known you for a short amount of time, but every time he sees you around campus or meets up with you. You have your head buried in either a book or your fingers are flying across your laptop keyboard. He’s positive you don’t know how to have fun.

“Fine name one instance in which you are not doing school work.” He challenges

“My friends and I have board game nights every Wednesday and Sunday night.”

Jungkook sits up a bit straighter, a look of shook written all over his face. “Wait, you actually have friends.” He says before lifting a hand to cover his mouth in disbelief.

Before he can stop you, you kick his shin one more time and this time harder than the first time. This is exactly why you are surprised you’ve chosen to be friends with him. Sometimes he could get under your skin by just existing.

“You know I have friends, Jungkook. You’ve hung out with them.”

He doesn’t answer, instead he nods his head while he once again cradles his shin in pain. Maybe he crossed the line this time. He met Taehyung and Jimin more than once. And from what he was able to gather in the few times he’s hung out with the three of you. Is that Jimin might have a huge crush on you and Taehyung’s jokes aren’t nearly as funny as you make them out to be. Still, he thinks they’re cool.

“Sorry I’m late, I missed my bus.” An unfamiliar voice speaks up and it makes the man in front of you sit up so straight you’re positive he’s going to break his back.

You raise a brow in confusion before turning your head to look towards the person who has the energizer bunny fix his posture and shut his mouth.

The first thing you see is the flowy khaki pants, then his simple t-shirt topped with a blue and white checkered flannel. And finally your eyes land on his face, and the black framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His hair hides under a navy beanie and your mouth almost falls open in disbelief.

Holy fuck, wait a second. This is the man Jungkook was describing. The nerd of a brother who could possibly still be a virgin and has his nose stuck in philosophy textbooks? Out goes your preconceived notions of the man in front of you and now you’re downright confused because this man was hot and reeked of chillaxed energy. He probably owns a few plants, and bike rides on the weekend and visits a few buddhist temples for the experience.

Nobody says anything as the man—which you perceive is now Joon—slides into the spot next to Jungkook’s. He hasn’t really looked in your direction, except for the short glance he sent your way when he first appeared.

Jungkook scoffs in annoyance as he scoots over making it a huge show like it’s inconvenient for him to move over. “This is Joon.”

“Namjoon.” The older one corrects before he extends his hand for you to shake. You hesitate for a second before shaking it and telling him your name.

He nods, retrieving his hand and sets it down on his lap. There’s a brief silence as he looks in between you and Jungkook probably trying to make sense of the situation himself because if you were being honest you’re still stunned yourself. Though you know Jungkook and his brother aren’t blood related you can’t help but feel like good genes simply run in the family somehow.

Namjoon shrugs once he’s silently done making his assumptions and sets his arms on the table, clasping his hands together. In an instant his face is replaced from a pleasing and welcoming one to one that screams he’s honestly here for business and not to fuck around.

“Are you the one that Jungkook tells me needs help?” He questions, earning a jab from the younger one. He doesn’t react and instead keeps going. “Have to ask because he’s been trying to set me up on blind dates thanks to our mom, so if this is what this is then I’m sorry but I’m not interested.” He nods before leaning back. Joon, or Namjoon doesn’t let you respond before he stands up and walks towards the order counter. There you see him greet the same barista who you now know is Hobi thanks to Jungkook.

You don’t linger on his figure before you turn to face Jungkook. Who looks mortified beyond belief and you can’t help but laugh because things are simply just making sense. All of Jungkook’s backhanded praises involving his brother made so much more sense. He did mention he was an asshole but you just assumed that was a simple sibling thing. No, he was most definitely right. And he fit more into the description you had once assumed before even meeting him, minus the typical nerd look you had conjured up with the brief descriptions Jungkook had provided. He was hot, and could probably crack your heart open into two, but he was exactly like those pretentious classmates you’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of encountering all throughout your degree. But for some reason you aren’t as bothered by it, because in a way it was hilarious.

Jungkook whines, “He can’t even try to be nice for a little bit.”

You throw your head back laughing even harder, while Jungkook continues to grumble underneath his breath in annoyance. You laugh until your stomach begins to hurt and until someone clears their throat making your giggles die down slowly.

“Why is Hobi giving out free cookies?” He points out before setting his tray down and taking up the seat next to his brother again. To which Jungkook silently gestures to the cookies and you as if to prove his earlier point. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his brother's actions before turning to face you.

“He also told me to give you his number but I told him that I didn’t know you and that if he wanted your number he should just ask you himself.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his dark liquid and making the same satisfied noise Jungkook had made earlier.

Ah, maybe dramatics also run in the family.

You stir the liquid of your latte with your straw. “Um thanks I guess.” You take a sip of your drink as he nods.

The atmosphere is so awkward that you want the entire cafe to fall through a hole in the ground. The three of you are silent before Jungkook’s phone lights up and starts buzzing. He quickly grabs it and silences it before standing up. “Sorry, I have to go. I forgot I had this thing to do.” He says inconspicuously before grabbing his book bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

You scramble eyes going wide as he adjusts the straps and straightens his black long sleeve. “Wait where are you going? I thought we had plans after this.”

Jungkook bites his lip, silencing his buzzing phone again when it goes off a second time. “Sorry Bun, I have to really go, it's important. I’ll see you at home Joon.” He salutes before basically running out of the cafe.

“Typical.” Namjoon catches your attention and rolls his eyes. “I knew he had something planned when he asked me to meet him here last minute. I’m really sorry about him but I’m really not interested in dating right now.” He says before grabbing hold of his bag and going to stand up.

Your body is filled with panic as you watch him. You do have a few choice words for the person that just ditched you with his brother. But this could be your last resort and you weren’t going to let him walk away. “Wait.” You extend your arm in his direction. He stops slipping on his bag and raises a brow at you in curiosity.

“I actually do need help. I’m close to failing my college algebra course…well I will fail it if I don’t pass the final exam.” You begin to explain, finally grabbing his full attention as he stuffs his hands into the pocket of his pants. “Jungkook mentioned you could probably help out.” You bring down your hand, circling both of them around your watered down latte. “That’s why I’m here. I promise this isn’t a blind date or anything.”

Namjoon nods, looking at the entrance before sitting down again, sighing, his shoulders relaxing instantly. And you’re once again met with the same nonchalant demeanor he had approached you and Jungkook. Once again things started to make sense, why he had made the switch so quickly. It was something he was probably so used to by now, but now as he adjusts himself in the seat in front of you. You can see that maybe he could not really be that bad.

“In that case I can stay.” He grins, pushing his iced coffee to the side. “I should warn you I’m not the best when it comes to math but college algebra is easy so I can help you out.”

You let out a big sigh of relief and nod your head. “Thank you so much you don’t understand how much you’re already helping me out by agreeing.”

Namjoon chuckles lightly before reaching into his side bag and taking out a plain black notebook with a pen. “In that case we should figure out our schedules.” He opens the notebook to a blank page and uncaps the pen. “Does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work for you?” He tilts his head in question.

You nod rapidly. “That’s perfect for me.”

He hums and writes down your name with the agreed days and times next to it. He closes it quickly and puts it in his bag. “Great, I'll see you next Tuesday.”

That’s it? It was that easy? Then why the heck did it take such a long time for someone to respond to your Facebook post. Especially when you had increased the payment.

Payment. Oh you had forgotten about it, and from

What it seems like so did Namjoon because he was already getting ready to go again.

“Wait.”

He stops, eyeing you in confusion but you decide to continue. “How much do you charge?”

Namjoon opens his mouth and closes it quickly. He puts a pensive hand on his chin before snapping his fingers in front of him. “I think you’re the one Jungkook mentioned about studying writing.”

“Writing and Rhetoric.” You correct before he can continue going. He nods in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, that’s what he said. I’m sure he mentioned what I was studying and if I’m being honest I hate revising my own writing. So, instead of paying me in money you can just revise my work in exchange for tutoring lessons.” He offers with a shrug.

You would be a fool to not take up this magnificent offer, so quickly you agree, extending your hand for him to shake. He takes it and for a second you swear you feel your heart drop down to your belly from just his touch. But you brush it off quickly when he retrieves his hand. It’s probably just the caffeine anyway.

“Great, it’s a pleasure doing business with you.” He smiles, and this time it is wide enough in which you can see his cute little dimples. “See you on Tuesday.”

Before you can respond with the same statement he’s already rushing out of the cafe. Leaving you alone in the booth, with three unfinished iced coffees and cookies.

You can’t really make out anything, just that this was probably the longest day of your life. And that unbeknownst to you, you can slightly feel the light crack in the corner of your heart. One that you will later on learn was the moment Namjoon had started to infiltrate it.

hope you liked it!

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elliebarker · 1 year

Text

thinking about gym rat!abby and newbie!reader…

category: modern!abby x female!reader (mentions of college/uni!abby if you blink): gym/workout au

author’s note: a solid 53% wanted this…i lowkey hate this…good luck.

classes were out, summer was in full swing, and after the end-of-school parties died down you had nothing to do.

you remembered the half-assed gift your cousin had given you a week earlier, a membership to your local gym.

why not? you thought. you didn’t even have to work out, you could just sit by the pool or get a smoothie or whatever they had there. you could also just run a little, half an hour, stay fit.

you packed your bag, grabbed your water bottle and keys, and headed out the door.

abby had been going to this gym for quite a while. working on her stature. defined, toned arms fell from her torso loosely as she walked through the assorted treadmills and pull-up machines (i don’t go to gym okay be nice)

abby was walking through when she saw an unfamiliar face, well–back. she obviously didn’t want to be a creep so she continued on to do her set, but she couldn’t help but steal a few glances at this mysterious and…kind of pretty… stranger.

you are about 2 minutes into a steady-paced run when a blonde girl comes up to run right next to you. you look around to the line of treadmills, majority empty. you couldn’t help but question why right here? she had so many more options.

as you both progress you start to take in the figure next to you. dirty-blonde strands of hair were delicately clasped into a braid. she had on a gray “deftones” t-shirt, the sleeves were ripped off. her eyelashes were light and long, and she was looking at you. oh shit

you quickly whipped your head away in shame, a hot blush rising to your cheeks. if anyone asked you’d disguise it as sweat from your run.

you were about finished up and started to slow down. once you finally reached your stop, you took a sip of your water and went to go grab something from the vending machine. hopeful you and this blonde-haired girl could forget the whole…situation.

you had just punched in the number of your snack when, “your new, right?” a sweet voice called from behind you. and the girl from earlier had appeared. you smiled and introduced yourself to her.

“anderson,” she stated, “i’m abby anderson.”

“like the hospital off east?” you questioned, recalling the bright-lighted 24-7 white building on the other side of town.

“um…yeah,” she muttered. “my– my dad works there,” she scratched the back of her neck.

then, she placed her hands on your waist and moved you to the side, and inserted cash into the vending machine.

“oh, abby wait–” you called as the snack number you typed in fell into the dispenser. she reached down to grab it, and placed it into your hand.

“this ones on me sweetheart.” she winked at you, and walked off to the locker rooms.

the next day, same time, your stupid little crush led you back to the gym.

“no deftones today?” you asked, coming up next to abby.

she giggled, “no, no not today.” she looked down at her attire. another ‘muscle tee’ and shorts. “you like them?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“i know a few songs,” you smiled and sat next to on the gym’s bench.

#abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson #abby tlou #tlou fanfiction #gym abby

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quil12 · 7 months

Note

Souyo + coming out? If you're still taking requests

So, you're saying that it's been 7 months... Yep... Sounds about right. I did write it though! So there is good news now!

"Yu, I don't know about this," Yosuke said from where he was sitting on their bed.

"You were the one who was all gung-ho about it yesterday."

He leaned back, sighing. "I know, but that was yesterday."

Yu came over, sitting down next to him, placing a hand on his leg. "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"We don't have to, but we probably should, right?"

"They're all people who care about us."

He nodded, sitting back up. "Yeah, it's just kinda terrifying."

"I know it is. Are you almost ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's do this."

The both of them stood up from the bed, heading to the door of the apartment. They were about to drive down to Inaba to go see their friends and family. It was summer break so they had time off of university classes.

They had been talking about it a lot in the past month or so and had come to an agreement.

They were going to tell everyone that they were dating.

The mere thought of that terrified him to no end. A large part of him wanted to keep this as a secret for the rest of his life, but, at the same time, he knew that that wasn't what Yu wanted. He wanted the people close to them to know that they were together. He understood that to some extent, but that didn't mean that he wasn't still terrified.

The two of them made it out to the car, getting in. They could have easily taken the train, but they were staying there for a week, so it would be nice to be able to have a way to get around the countryside if they wanted.

Yosuke insisted on driving - it calmed him down to be able to focus on doing that - and then they were on their way.

It was only about a two hour drive, but it was nice the entire time. He really loved just spending time with Yu, talking to him about whatever crossed his mind. It would be fun to go on a road trip with him at some point. Maybe to go a lot further than Inaba.

Before long, they got to the small town. He really loved living in the city, but he had also missed Inaba. There were so many memories associated with it - some bad, but the majority good. He didn't think that he'd want to move back there anytime soon, but he was glad to have the opportunity to visit.

The first place they went to was the Dojima residence. He was just going to drop Yu off there, then head to his parent's house. That was another reason why it would be nice to have everyone know they were a couple. It would be weird if they were to stay in the same room as just friends, especially when they both had a place to stay in town.

He pulled up in front of the house. "All right. I'll see you in a bit then?"

Yu nodded, reaching over, and taking hold of his hand, squeezing it. "And if you decide that you don't want to do it, we don't have to."

He took a deep breath. "Right."

"Just let me know, okay?"

"Yeah."

He gave him a small smile. "Text me when you start heading over."

"Okay, I will."

With that, Yu got out of the car, grabbing his things, before heading to the door. He waited until he got inside before heading toward his parent's house.

They were having a get-together with everyone at the Dojima Residence that evening, but he wanted to go drop off his things and get settled first. He was also going to be bringing Teddie with him and he was genuinely looking forward to seeing him.

He quickly reached the house - it wasn't that far - and pulled into the driveway.

As soon as he parked, the front door swung open, and Teddie came barreling out toward him.

"Yosuke!" His voice was muffled through the car.

He unbuckled his seat belt, then opened the door, quickly stepping out. "Hey, Ted."

Immediately, he crashed into him, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as he hugged him back.

"You were gone for so long. I thought I was never gonna see you again."

"It's been like two months."

"That's basically an eternity."

"Whatever you say." He pushed on his shoulder. "C'mon. I wanna go put my stuff inside and then we can go to see Yu."

Teddie immediately pulled away, a glint in his eye as he went to open the car door, pulling out his bag. "Hurry up. I want to go see Sensei."

Yosuke went and grabbed the rest of his things and they went inside, greeting his parents. Right. He was going to have to tell them too. That wasn't going to be fun. He was going to save it until Yu was there with him though.

He followed Teddie up to his old room - it was really Teddie's room now. He had told him to do what he wanted with it once he left for college.

He set everything down and then Teddie was pulling on his arm, telling him that they needed to get going.

He put up a small bit of resistance - going there meant everything was all the closer - but eventually let in, texting Yu that they were coming, then starting the walk over.

It wasn't that long of a walk and Teddie was chatting to him the entire time, telling him about everything that had happened over the past few months. Despite everything, he really had missed him.

It wasn't long before they were walking up to the Dojima Residence, knocking on the door.

After a few seconds, it opened, Yu standing there, immediately getting leaped on by Teddie.

"Sensei! You're here."

"Hey, Teddie."

"It's no fair that Yosuke gets to see you all the time."

Yu let out a small laugh. "Well, maybe you can come and visit us sometime."

Yosuke groaned. Why had he offered that? Now that the idea was in his head, he might decide to just come and show up unannounced like he had done on the school trip.

"What? You don't want him to come?"

Teddie let out an over dramatic gasp. "Yosuke?"

"You can come, you just have to let us know beforehand."

Teddie hummed. "All right."

With that, they headed inside. No one else was there yet except for Nanako and Dojima. They exchanged greetings before going over and sitting around the low table in the living room.

There was a lot of talking as everyone got caught up with everyone else. Nanako, in particular, seemed excited to tell them all about everything she was doing.

Before long though, everyone else started filtering in until the room was full of their friends.

Now that everyone was here in the room, his stomach was turning. What was going to happen if they found out? Would they hate them? He hoped not, but part of him never wanted to actually find out.

He was lost in those thoughts when, all of a sudden, Chie touched his shoulder, her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, Yosuke? Are you okay?”

He blinked. “What? I’m fine. Never better.”

She frowned. “O-kay. You just seemed distracted.”

“Oh, uh, I guess I’m just tired.”

She didn’t seem fully convinced, but luckily, she didn’t push him on it.

He took a deep breath.

Yu caught his attention from across the room. He was giving him a questioning look, his head slightly tilted to the side.

He bit his lip. He really didn’t know if he wanted to do this or not. The anxiety was churning in his stomach, a sense of dread hanging over him.

Yu stood. “Yosuke, can I talk to you?”

He took a sharp breath, standing as well. “Oh, yeah.”

Luckily, no one seemed too concerned as he followed him up the stairs and into his old room. It was slightly better in there. In the relative privacy where the thoughts of coming out to everyone seemed further away.

“Are you okay?” Yu asked, laying his hand on his cheek.

He looked down at the ground. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Yu gently ran his thumb beneath his cheekbone. “We don’t have to. I don’t want to do it if you’re not comfortable.”

He frowned, biting his lip. “But you want this, right? You want everyone to know.”

Yu hesitated. “I do, but-”

Yosuke turned away from him, taking a deep breath. Yu wanted this. He deserved to have it. He deserved to have something that he wanted.

He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway.

“Yosuke? What are you doing?” Yu called from his room.

He was right behind him as he walked down the stairs, stopping in the entrance to the living room.

He opened his mouth before he could think about it. “Yu and I are dating.”

The once upbeat din of conversation pittered out, everyone turning to look at him.

His face was on fire. “Just wanted to tell everyone.”

Nanako was the first one to speak, a look of excitement on her face. “Does that mean that you’re going to get married?”

“That’s not fair!” Teddie said. “I wanna marry Sensei.”

Yu took a step forward, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “No one’s getting married, but, like Yosuke said, we are dating. You’re all people that we care about so we decided that we wanted to let everyone know.”

“Congratulations, Senpai!” Rise said from her spot on the couch, a wide smile on her face.

There was a similar sentiment from everyone around the room.

Everyone was being so supportive. Even though he had been kind of expecting it, relief swept through his body.

He didn’t even realize he had started crying until a teardrop dripped down off of his cheek.

He immediately brought his hand up, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

Teddie let out a concerned sounding noise. “Yosuke, why are you crying?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m not crying, stupid bear.”

Yu wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him over to the couch.

As they were sitting down, Chie let out a wolf whistle, smiling.

His face felt hot. “Hey!”

She laughed.

The rest of the day passed by much the same. Talking and laughing without any fear and uncertainty hanging over them.

He still had to tell his parents, but somehow, now, that idea didn’t seem so bad.

#souyo #fanfiction #i did try to play this mostly seriously #at least in peoples reactions #except for one joke at the end lmao

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teacuptoast · 2 years

Text

Homefront

Relation: Young Justice x Teammate! GN. Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Mention of Alcohol

Words: 3.2K

Summary: A reader insert and rewrite of episode 12 season 1. Reader is an absolute smart ass but we stan the sarcasm. They're giving major stiles stalinski vibes.

A/N: Ayyy my first piece so enjoy. Also, I'm having my monthly YJ brain rot.

Navigation

“Ugh, I hate chemistry,” Sighing, I walked out of my last class of the day. Merging into the swarm that was the hallway I adjusted my bookbag as my feet swiftly carried me out of the building. I was practically running to get out of the building, desperate to get away from the place.

Its only the second week and I already miss summer. AP this, ACC that, I was drowning in paperwork. Not to mention the fact that the rest of the team gets 3 hours off before you. While they’re all playing games and baking cookies I’m stuck listing to Mr. ‘Peaked in Highschool’ tell me how to do a pushup.

Already in a bad mood I walked deeper into the drowsy city. A steady drissle turned into a downpour as your student jacked did little to shield you from the rain. ‘I hate this,” I’d chant in my head to pass the time, “I hate this, I hate this so much.” Forgetting an umbrella was a rookie mistake.

Now being soaked and soggy, I huffed before taking a sharp turn into the nearby ally. My boots splashed through puddles as I neared the rundown photo booth. Setting my bag down in a relatively dry sport my hand rummeged through textbooks before pulling out a pair of glasses.

Placing the glasses on my face I took in a large breath before stepping into the booth. After scanning me the voice read, “B0-7 Hawkeye.” Hearing the familiar name I readied myself for whatever weird situation I was about to walk into.

Stepping forward into the room I closed my eyes and spoke into the room, “I think I’ve broken the record for most consecutive minor problems in one day, and let me tell you, its really pissing me off.”

Opening my eyes I looked into open room to find a fireball coming straight twords my face. My mind took its time playing ‘fight or flight’ roulet before it made the last minute movement to doge.

A string of curses left my mouth as I tried to figure out what was going on. Though I didn’t have the time before another fireblast came my way, this one I didn’t miss as cleanly. Feeling your skin burn you let out a hiss before dropping you bag and deciding to run.

Practically screaming I began to talk to myself, “I just had to ask how this day could could get any worse!” Booking it down the hallway I took a steady turn into a small room, barely missing the flames that followed.

Shoving yourself into a storage room was anything but ideal. My rapid breath frilled the room creating a erie eco. Inhaling one more time I held my breath as foot steeps neared. It sounded like the person was wearing metal shoes. ‘Red Tornado’ my mind celebrated, almost making me open the door.

The footsteps stoped at the studden sound, right on the otherside of the door. Rational thought soon kicked in, ‘Whys Red Tornado trying to kill me?’ My face cringe as I relized my stupid mistake.

The tension grew as the steps didn’t seem to move. Almost like a horror movie I held My breath, waiting in anticipation. After what seemed like hours the footsteps began to walk away.

Shakily I let out a breath. Trying to piece together the situation, I couldn’t help but wonder who, where, why, and what the hell was going on here. ‘This must be an attack, or maybe this is just a practie mission right? Right?’

After a short while I left the closet, checking the to make sure the coast was clear. I began to work myself down to the locker room. If I was going to do my job effectively, I first needed to get myself out of civies.

Heading twords the fitness center I quickly rushed into the locker rooms. I frantically tried to open my lock before it finally released. Out fell my suit and I didn’t wait a second to rip of my soaked cloths.

To think I was in the rainy streets of Seattle less then 20 minutes ago, gave me the shivers. I didn’t even have time to look at my burns on my arms and face to know I was in some deep shit. Knowing the adrenaline masked the pain, I quickly cover it up the burn. Finally placing my mask on my face I slipped on my toolbelt.

Putting my last knife in its place, I took in the calm that certainly wouldn’t last long. Hearing two pairs of footsteps, I quickly turned to see a pair of familiar faces being thrown to the ground by a flame.

Waving for them to follow me into the locker room, the three of us filed in before the next attack. Before we could even speek a word, Robin was already tring to override the systum. Following their lead I began to twist the showerheads, again drenching my dry suit.

“Can anyone please tell me what the Hell is going on!” I asked though nether responded. Robin procided to tell us that all lines of communication where down. ‘Grate now were stranded,’ I thought to myself.

“At least the waters helping,” he said as we backed into the middle of the room. Soon the clicnking of the pipes turned into growls as the water pressure shot them off the wall.

“Or not,” I added as the room began to flood. Swimming upwards I noticed a red robot sening more flames twords up. We looked at one another before I was taken by the water and tossed onto the hallway floor.

The three of us coughed as we tried to catch our breath. Standing up we quickley headed for the kitchen.

“We need to get lost.” Robin said as we walked into the kitchen. As we all entered I started to catch my breath.

I scoffed and smiled back. “Yeah no shit.”

Artemis looked to me before rolling her eyes, “The sarcasm is not helping Hawk.”

Turning back to face her, I rasid my hands in frustration, “I’m sorry I almost just got my face seareed off by a robot with boobs! I have a right to be a fussy,” stepping twords the kitchen I continued, “Lets head for the vents, so I can have a little fussy breakdown without being seen!”

The twos’ bitter similes soon turned lighthearted. Disite being overly dramatic and flamboyant at times, you were intellectually a genius. No matter the task at hand you always were able to run every possibility to make the best decision for the team and mission. You were flashy but decisive none the less.

As the two of us started our way into the vents we questioned Robin as he downloaded the caves blueprints. Before he could finnish his explonation, the familiar sound of metal boots was heard in the hallway.

We quickly scurried into the shaft one after another, myself leading the way. Robin shouted directions as we made our way throught the vents. Turning I opened the vent cover as instructed. Sliding down I couldn’t help myself from making a little ‘wee’ sound.

Braking through the vent we landed on the rafters inside the boiler room; now it was Robins time to lead. Before he could get anywhere we were stoped by a loud thud. Looking up we saw it was the same flame robot from before.

“Hey your a very nice looking robot,” I said to draw her attention away so the others could escape, “But the whole metal thing is kind of a turn off, for me.” She didn’t seem amused as she raised her hands, fire fillling the room as I let out one last remark, “I never said you wern’t hot!”

Jumping onto the growned level I met with my teemates. Seening the machines begin to malfunction, Robin let out a quick word before we moved again. Steem hissed as pipes broke sending us charging by the robot. It aimed for us as we continued to struggle with the blazing attacks. We ran past it quickly, myself brining up the end of the pack.

Ducking behind another engine, Robin pulled up a scene from his hollow glove, “I know that other acces tunnel is here somewhere,” Robin said in distress.

Finding the vent door on the floor I held it up for Artemis to jump into, speaking with a stupid smile, “You mean this one?” Placing an explosive, Robin followed in behind us. Falling into the tunnel, he stoped us before we could get much further.

Plugging his glove into the electrical socket he quickly explained, “Looking out the cave’s motion and heat sensors to prevent the enemy from tracking us.”

Artemis quickly followed up, “And I ask again, who is the enemy?”

“We already know theres a giant red robot lady that can produce fire and unless Kaldur’s gone crazy, we can assume theres another person who can control water. I’m just wondering why they look like Red Tornados divorced parents,” I added as Robin pulled up the screen.

On the screen showed our four superpowered teammates. They were up to their usual shenanigans wile working on Conners bike.

Kalder was the first to ask if anywone was struggiging with their school work, to which I fell back against the vent and yet out a disgruntled yes. As Megann began to ramble about her cheerleading team, I silently wished I went to our own Happy Harbor High school.

It was just some normal highschool, with normal kids who all did normal things. They could do extra cariculors like cheerleading, or swimming. They could hangout without having to risk the lost hour for their homework. It struck a cord of jellosuy inside of me hearing them talk about how easy their personal lives are.

Every morning I’d wake up at 6 in the morning to be greeted by prentious assholes for the 8 following hour. Pine Hills Private Acadamy for Intalectully Gifted, or as I call it, ‘The prerec for becoming a rich dousebag.’ Everyone there was just the same carbon copy Barbie and Ken and it made me want to rip my hair out.

While everyone was worried about surviving the evil robot attack, I couln’t stop myself from stressing over my lab paper due tomorrow.

My attention was soon drawn back as everyone was blasted back by an explosion before the screen cut out. Artemis was the first to pester us with questions about what hapend to our team mates.

“Explosion took out the camera,” Robin responded, “I’ll look for another angle.” He continued to type away as 4 more screens loaded onto his hallow glove. The first camera showed big stretching waves crash into the hanger before one seprate stream deliberately took out the camera. On the second angle, we briefly saw the team get splashed by water, before the camera was cut out again.

“All four are dead,” Robin spoke as I rolled my eyes at his poor choice in words, “The cameras. I mean the cameras,” Artemis face relaxed, “I’m sure the others are ok.” He continued to ramble on as Artemis leaned back next to me. Before we got the chance to relax, we were already opening the vent to jump down into the study.

Running down the stairs Robin explained that theres was a secret passage opened by one of the books. I jumped at the chace to coment, “Whats next, a trap door that leads to the dongen?”

“You should see the Batcave,” He said as I chuckled. Walking passed the numerous shelves we were surprised by the door opening behind us. Getting into position we quickly retreated behind a shelf. Knives still drawn and ready, we patintle waited as metal clanking walked down the isle.

“Artemis, Robin, Hawkeye.” The voice spoke reminding of us all of a familiar Den Mother. Artemis, though, jumped the gun and moved to confront him. Though who she saw was not Tornado and more like his long lost step father.

Robin pushed her out of the way as I tried to stab the machine in between its mental plating. Hitting its eye I tried to stab the other one before he could react. Before I got the chance he grabbed me by the neck and threw me into the nearest bookcase.

Hearing my teammates call my name I croaked out, “Sorry for flirting with your wife, thats my fault.” Rubbing the back of my head I got up to find the other, female, robot standing infront of us.

As she shot fire out of her hands I tried to regroup with the others as they scrambled ontop of the bookshelf. Artemis questioned who they were as she covered us from the top of the shelf. Sliding down with Robin the two androids continued to fire. Finding the right book in the nick of time, we entire the secret as the shelf fell overhead.

As we sprinted down the hall Artemis asked, “Did you know Tornado had siblings?”

“Yes! It’s almost like I mentioned this is the vents!” I shouted, “If I had a nickled for every time you all called my ideas stupid and I was right, I’d be more richer then Bruce Wane!”

As we met a cross in the halways she grabed my hand, “So what do we do now? Red Tornado is one of the powerhouses of the League. How are we suposed to take down two of them?” She seemed more distressed as the situation grew.

“They do seem pretty user unfriendly.” Robin responded as I once again let out an obnoxious chuckle.

She told us off before we got to respond, being interrupted by they overhead speaker system. It sounded like the same voice as one of the androids, “Attention, Robin. Attention, Artemis. Attention, Hawkeye. You have exactly ten minuets to surrender or the lives of your teammates will be extinguished.” Turing to face one another we could only assume what danger are teamates were in.

Continuing to run down the halls the androids sounded again, reminding us we only have 8-minuets left.

“We can access the hangar from here,” Robin spoke before we quickly turned around to face another wave of water. Contradicting himself, the three of us began to run away from the wave, only to be swept up by it. Taking in a deep breath, we were quickly submerged.

As Robin took out his breathing device, he headed towards me first but, I shook my head. Giving it to Artemis I looked around, only to find a red hand wrapped around my ankle. As it pulled me twords it, I grabed a smaller knife from my belt. Griping it I stabed it into his other eye as bubbles escaped my mouth.

Pushing off of it I felt a hand grip my waste and pull me out of the tunnel. As explosions followed behind us we broke for the surface. Gasping for air we quickly caught our breaths before hearing the voice of a familar speedster.

Quick dodging the incoming fire blasts we quickly swam twords Wally and Conner, who where both trapped in a rock of some sorts. Quickly asking if they were ok, they directed our attention up to the Martian. Looking up both Kaldur and Megan were traped in a cage made of fire.

“Aqualad, is she-” Artemis asked, pleading. Kaldur reassured us that she was just unconscious but, that they were running out of time. The conversation was broke when more flames were sent twords us.

Navigating deeper under water my body was beginning to fetieege. 8 hours of school on top of running away from evil robots was alot more then your 16-year-old body could handle. Passing Sphere, who was stuck in the wall, we quickly tried to hussle up the stairs. Unfortunately we were followed by the evil step father, and were stoped at the top of the stairs by the evil stepmother.

As Artemis talked about her lack of arrows, Robin called for a distraction.

”Ay Ay Captin!” I responded. throwin a small dager into the flame robots eye. It didn’t seem to faze the it at all. Before she was able to hit me with her flames, I dove into the water.

The others followed as I looked for a storm drain, which I luckily found. Pulling it off I let the others swim up before I followed in. Once we broke the surface we gasped for air and starrted to climb up a later.

Sitting in the tunnel I looked up and spoke, “You know i’m getting really tired of drowning!” Following my statement was the reminder that we only had 6 minutes left. Placing my hands behind my head, I heaved for air and didn’t bother listening to the two bicker.

“And you,” She looked to me, “For once in your life can you take this seriously? Our friends are dying and you look like you’d rather be napping!”

Between breaths I snapped back, “I think anyone of us would rather be naping then dying Artemis,” taking in another breath I responded to her other question, “And for the record I am taking this seriously. I prefeer to process my emotions with a little bit of sarcastic flare to avoid the fact that I secretly have an inferiority complex,” Watching her face turn in confusion I finished, “Does that anser your question?”

Slowly nooding we followed Robin down the tunnel. Artemis droned on about how none of our training maters now that we’re without the rest of our teammates. Though something she said sparked an idea.

“There machines,” Robin spoke and looked at me to finnish, “That means one electromagnetic pulse will shut down any machine within range. Nighty Night evil robots!”

Artemis was quick to bring us back down to reality, “Great, except you better have an EMP emitter in your utility belt, because I know I don’t have one in my quiver.”

“Nope I’m fresh out!” Robin responded, “But i'm betting we can make one.” Looking dumbfounded I turn my attention to him.

“This isn’t the science fair! We can’t do that in -” I was cut off by the android reminding us we had 5 minutes left, “In five muniets.”

Pressing my com, I linked to the one deliberately placed wepon, “Hey KF. Correct me if i’m wrong but, theres two vircator in the med lab, on the X-ray machine.”

Chuckling he responded, “I thought you hated practical science?” I hummed in agreement as we made our way into the med lab, before explaining the plan to the others, “You’ll find a small vacuum tube called a viractor, that converts high energy pulses. Reprogram the units microwave conversion from X-rays to EMPs, with a cascading energy vector directed outward.”

Grabbing the cylinder I asked once again, “Alright we’ve re-programed and secured the EMP,” Standing up the others followed my lead, “Hey KF? Again correct me if i’m wrong but if we hook this thing up into the main generator then we win the prize right?”

“You know your really making it hard to be the science nerd on the team,” Sighing he finished, “Once again correct.”

Pressing off my com, we dropped into a nearby airway. Looking down I could see the two robots as well as our teammates. Looking at one another, Robin divised a plan.

“Ok. Make a distraction,” He called into the com. It wasn’t long before the two drowning knuckleheads were teasing the robots to death. Hell, their commets were even making me cringe. Whe Robin asked for cover, the two of us quickly got into place.

As he swung onto the generator, he placed the EMP inside. After pulling up his hollowglove to re-route, he whispered into the coms, “It’s not working, Hawk. Circuits incomplete, I need something conductuble.”

I readied myself for the throw, though I stoped when I heard a yell, “Robin look out!” The boy was soon tackled by a wave of water, nocking him off the generator. Artemis reaied her arrow but whilst trying to dodge the blast from the android, rammed into me.

Losing my footing I tried to regain my balance but, the slickness of my drench boots betrayed me. As I began to fall I gave one last ditch attempt to connect the circuit. Throwing the knife before I hit the water with a large and painfull splash. Relling in pain from the impact I came up to the surface tp find that my dager had only missed by centimeters.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” I spoke, preparing myself for the incoming wave. Taking a final deep breath I excepted my fate, It was all up to Artemis now. With that, I felt my mind slip as I passed out from exhaustion.

***

Long and painfull coughs wrack my body as I began to wake up. I didn’t even have the energy to sit up but I always had one for a comment, “God I need a drink,” I coughed as I heard footsteps walk towards me, “A dirty shirley? Vodka? A club soda? Fuck it i’ll even drink Malabu just something people.”

“Well you definitely haven’t lost your humor.” Megann spoke as the others crowded around me.

Kaldur was the next to ask, “Are you alright? You’ve been out the longest? We were beginning to worry.”

A week chuckle left my lips, “Ah just ask Artemis, I was taking a quick nap. Speaking of which, I would like to get back to that.” Shewing them away with my hands I curled up more into the floor. Chuckles followed but they all decided to let you rest.

The moment didn’t last long though before Wally and Artamis were heard yelling from accros the room. Though when you heard a familiar voice. Deciding it was best yous at up drowsy.

I couldn’t bother to hear the aindriods reasoning, looking over to the two bots you decided to study them. As Red Tornado walked twords you and the drown you began to protest, “Hey I don’t care why you wern’t here but, I think its in all or our best interests if you don’t have a family reunion.”

“There’s no need to worry any more Hawkeye. The leage is here to finnish this.” He said kneeling twords the too.

Trying to stand up I wobbled and tried to separate the group of robots, “Thats not my point. My point is that your clearly linked to these two, making you a person of intrest in the attack. You being here at this moment is quit literally the worst alibi.”

He didn’t seemed bothered by my words but I still tried to convince the android. Before I got the chance Sphere sprung back to life jumping out of the wall. Then the relization hit me, those robots would be waking up anytime now…they just need a spark.

As the others were busy with the laser cutter, I wispered to the android “You walk away right now and no one will need to ever know about this,” He didn’t anser, just simply sreached his finger out, “Don’t!”

Quickly the drons came back to life, panicking you looked back to your friends behind you, trying to tell them to run. Red tornado raised to the sky as it began to suck the air out of the room. Quickly grabing your throat you began to cough. Grasping for oxygen you felt the life being rinped out of you. One after another, their bodys hit the floor. Despite your best efforts, you feel back to sleep.

***

“Hey I know your tired kid but you got to wake up.” The familiar voice was heard above me. I willed myself to open my eyes. Opening my eyes I was met with a familiar face.

“God I need a drink. Do you know the day i’ve had,” I asked him with a lopsided smile, “Like I had a Murphy's law daw. Just wait till Roy hears this.” Patting my shoulder he stood up giving me the chance to lay down once again.

From a distance I could only hear him speak, “Definitely concussed but they’ll be alright.

#kid flash x you #young justic x reader #young justice #young justice imagines #dick grayson x reader #kid flash x reader #wally west x reader #conner kent #dc x reader #nightwing #roy harper #we stan a platonic storys #maybe thats just me

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exhaustedxreader · 1 year

Text

Coffee Shops and Crushes

sung hanbin x reader

wc: 1.8k

chapter 1

a/n: btw i take requests if you want any boys planet/zb1/other fandom fics! :)

Chapter 2 - A Hot Summer Night

[UNKNOWN]: oh yeah...this is hanbin from yesterday btw^^

Your eyes were still red and bleary as you read through the texts. Your stomach did a little excited flip, ignoring the ungodly hours that he chose to text. It was currently 6:50am. You didn't need to be up until around 7:30am, however, your brain recalls the fact that Hanbin has classes at 7. It warmed your heart to know he was looking out for you even when he's busy during the day.

[Y/N]: morning hanbin!! you're so sweet :> enjoy your classes this morning~

After firing the text back and adding Hanbin to your contacts, you fell promptly back to sleep until your alarm made itself apparent.

School was long and gruelling, but you looked forward to your shift after work, where you prayed Hanbin would be present. You knew it was silly—your crush on the older male. You just couldn't help it. He clouded your mind constantly. Walking to school, you hoped he'd be walking in the same direction, even if just for a moment. During class, you'd drift into a daydream, thinking about how nice his fingers felt against your thigh.

You had hurried over to the café just after school finished, busying yourself with customers and rushed latte foam art. You were so busy, it seemed, that you didn't even notice when Hanbin did eventually walk in.

"I haven't seen this many people in here for ages," he proclaimed, squishing behind the counter with you to help.

Your eyes probably looked like they'd bulged out of your head. "Oh my god, when did you get here?"

Hanbin laughed. You wished you could record it and play it again on loop. "Just now."

There was a slight busy period to the job that you also hadn't experienced while working here before, but you managed to fall into unison with Hanbin , making small talk and catching up about each other's days as you both worked. "Probably only busy because of our killer new employee."

You smiled bashfully at the compliment.

The flurry of customers died down after 2 and a half hours, allowing you time to go upstairs with Hanbin to relax before your shift officially ended.

"Where's your mom?" you queried.

"She's out with some old friends for some lunch-dinner thing. You don't need to worry about her catching you off work," he told you with an added wink, nudging you slightly.

You relaxed into one of the sofa seats, relaxing in the cool of the air conditioning after the steam and heat suffocating the café.

"Didn't you say you had a test next week?" Hanbin asked, sitting across from you.

You glared at him, groaning, "Don't remind me."

"Come on, I'll help you. You just need to remember quotes right?" With your nod, he got up from his seat, standing before you with his hand outstretched. You allowed him to pull you off the couch and drag you to the table along with your heavily abused copy of Romeo and Juliet. "Which ones are the quotes you need to memorise?" He gestured to the rainbow of sticky tabs jutting out of the poor book.

"Blue," you told him. "Blue because this memorisation stuff makes me sad."

Hanbin huffed a laugh, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Okay!" He pulled the book open to a random blue-marked page. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"I'm gonna say a quote and you tell me who said it and where, alright?"

You nodded your understanding.

He dramatically cleared his throat, speaking loudly with an exaggerated narration voice, "If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down."

"Mercutio, Act 1, Scene 4."

"Very good," Hanbin nodded his approval, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. "See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!"

"Romeo, Act 2, Scene 2."

Hanbin nodded again. "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."

"Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2."

"Hm....What about..." He flipped randomly through the books, looking for another blue tab. "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." The air in the room changed. Became tenser. His eyes bore into yours, almost like he was trying to tell you something without having to say it outright.

Your phone's alarm made itself known, indicating your shift was over. You gulped. "Romeo in Act 1, Scene 5."

There was a stretch of silence, where Hanbin just looked at you. Almost as if he was admiring you. "You'd make a good Juliet," he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You became entranced in his eyes. "Why's that?"

Your eyes tracked his tongue as it swiped over his lips. He took a deep breath, quickly looking away and breaking his spell over you.

You jolted up, grabbing your bag and stuffing the book inside, and slinging it over your shoulders. "I should get going. Homework," you lied, gesturing to the book as you tried to think of a satisfactory excuse.

He nodded, forcing a smile onto his face. "I'll walk you down."

Hanbin held the door to the café open, allowing you to sneak out. "Thank you for your hard work today," he told you.

"Thank you for all the help," you said, bowing deeply.

You turning away to leave, when he said, "Hey, [Y/N]." You glanced back, tilting your head to the side slightly. "Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow."

Your face broke into a wide grin, cheeks flushing. You ignored the fact that it was still light outside, the sun peaking over the trees to swirl pink and orange hues in the sky. "Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2," you replied simply. With a wave, you turned and walked back home for the day.

***

The next day of work was downright torturous. Whatever god or larger-than-us entity allowed the building’s air conditioner to combust was evil in the least. It had to be. Because when Hanbin was standing just inches away, reaching across you to grab a cloth, you could see the outline of his torso through his sweat-drenched shirt. And you couldn’t help but drool at the sight. Looking away quickly, you prayed he didn’t notice the way you kept sneaking glances at him.

The sun had already disappeared as it neared the quiet part of your shift. As usual, Hanbin invited you upstairs to study, helping to haul your backpack up the steep stairs. "You wanna run through more lines today?" he asked, flapping his shirt to try and provide some relief to the horrific heat.

You shook your head, groaning out, "Too hot." You both lay side by side on the carpet in front of the pedestal fan. Really, you shouldn't be complaining. The heat was worse at home. Your house was probably closer to a furnace than a house. You dreaded the idea of returning home.

Hanbin laughed, biting his lip to suppress his smile. "The air conditioner is supposed to be getting fixed on Monday. But for now, maybe some ice cream will help?" He gave you a gentle nudge, as if trying to convince you of the idea. Foolish, really, because who would ever turn down ice cream on a day like this? Or ever, really.

"You know I would never turn down ice cream. Especially not when I'm dying from heat stroke," you replied, peeling yourself from the carpet and following him to the freezer. Hanbin left the tub of ice cream on the counter for a few minutes to soften, giving the two of you enough time to shove your faces into the freezer, moaning at how nice the icy frost felt against your cheeks.

After heaping ice cream into each of your bowls, you both sat in front of the fan, indulging on ice cream slathered in hardened chocolate sauce. You both made small talk for a while, giggling at each other's jokes while scooping ice cream into your mouths, SpongeBob playing on TV in the background. You had both bonded over a shared passion of the sponge character, finding that you both had been obsessed over the show as kids, even still watching it to this day—clearly. "Oh, I had something I'd been meaning to tell you," Hanbin said suddenly.

"Oh?" You pushed down the worry that bubbled to the surface, doing your best to ignore it. What could Hanbin possibly have been wanting to tell you? Are you fired? Is Mrs. Sung okay? Does he secretly hate you?

"My friend is having a party this weekend," he told you. The built up stress in your body deflated like a balloon, allowing your shoulders to relax from the tensed state they had been in. "It's more of a college party," he continued. "But I thought you might be interested. I think some of the people from your school will be there, too. I'll text you the detail if you want?"

You nodded. "Sounds good!"

The front door slammed open to huffing Mrs. Sung. "Ahhh, who let the weather get so hot," she complained, dropping two armfuls of plastic bags onto the kitchen counter. She looked around the room and seemed to notice you there. "[Y/N]!" she exclaimed, mouth shaping into a shocked oval. "Your shift finished an hour and a half ago!"

Your eyes bulged slightly, checking the time on your phone. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mrs. Sung, the time must've escaped me."

Mrs. Sung fussed on how you were going to get home in the darkness outside, but you ensured her you'd be fine and see her back next week for your next shift. "Goodnight!" you called, closing the front door behind you and trailing out of the café, locking the door behind you and making your way home, hauling your bag over your shoulder.

You had only made it a few steps away from the café when your phone pinged. Fishing it out of your backpack, your face lit up.

[HANBIN]: saturday 8:30pm, 123 sesame street <3

Your face flushed, eyes lingering on the heart he had left at the end of the message. Looking back toward the café, you saw Hanbin staring out the window, waving at you with a grin on his face. Your cheeks reddened further, replying with your own smile and wave. You turned back around, shooting off a quick text as you began to walk back home.

[Y/N]: see you then :) <3

That was the moment it hit you. You were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Sung Hanbin.

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