Genre: Fluff + Smut but mostly smut Rating: M Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Summary: You hate your best friend because she made you go camping. But you also love your best friend because she made you go camping.
:Smut, Angst / language, mentions of cheating
Word Count: 10,062
Description: When the feelings that you’ve always had for your friend Taehyung lead you down an unsteady path, you end up getting stuck. It’s an endless cycle of leaving her for you, and you for her, but there’s only one of you that he truly loves—and unfortunately you know you can’t make him say your name, when all he knows is hers.
A/N: inspiration comes from the song her (loving you). also this is the full length scenario of a drabble (here), that i wrote a couple of months ago
You sensed the emptiness before you even opened your eyes, but
it didn’t make the ache in your chest feel any less painful when you saw the vacant
space next to you, where his body used to lay. You reached out, running your
hand along the rumpled sheets, it was cool to the touch, meaning he’d been gone
for a while.
It looks like they made up again.
You weren’t sure how long you stared at the empty space on
the bed, a million questions running through your mind. Did he hesitate when he
climbed out of the sheets this time, silently slipping his clothes back on, as
he left you alone, again?
You rolled to your back, staring up at the ceiling, the want
to sleep completely dissipating from you. Your mind was instead occupied with
the memories of tonight. Swollen lips, clashing teeth, fingernails on skin,
heavy breathing, lust-filled stares from him, and love-infected gazes from you.
The thoughts make your heart race, and you can almost perfectly remember the
feeling of his breath on your skin and his voice in your ear.
But now you were left with nothing.
No person to cuddle with when the night got too cold, no
person to wake up to when morning finally came, no person at all.
The moment Noah Stilinski’s only son walked across the stage and accepted his high school diploma was the happiest day of his life so far. Not because he had graduated. That was a happy coincidence. No, it was because of what it signified.
Stiles had survived into adulthood. He had graduated high school. He had gotten into Stanford, Columbia, Berkeley, and Brown. But more importantly, he was alive.
After years of chasing down the supernatural, surviving a possession, taking a life, and years of pain, misery, and heartbreak, Stiles had made it out the other side, a little broken, but alive.
Noah couldn’t have been more proud, even when Stiles managed to trip over the hem of his grad gown and flail. Coach smacked him up the back of the head before pulling him into a tight hug. Behind him, the pack cheered and clapped. Someone wolf-whistled. The irony was not lost.
Tears damp on his cheeks, Noah watched as Stiles proudly stood at the edge of the stage, gold Salutatorian stole draped around his shoulders, and switched the tassel hanging from his cap from one side to the other. He flashed a thumbs up. Except, his attention drifted past gathered pack in the audience towards the trees at the edge of the lacrosse field.
Following his son’s line of sight, Noah caught sight of the familiar scruffy face of Derek Hale watching Stiles with and expression that could only be described as fond while he lurked in the shadow of the forest.
A/N: A follow-up to One Word. I had a lot of people ask for one, so here it is. @coveofmemories
Warnings: Severe depression. Thoughts of suicide.
An anchor lost at sea.
It was the only thing you could think of to accurately describe how you felt anymore. Sunk, stuck in place, with no hope of movement, and nothing around you but the all-consuming feelings of loss and misery.
An anchor lost at sea.
After being discharged from the hospital, JJ had escorted you home. She stayed for a few minutes, but all you could do was stare wide-eyed off into the distance, not truly focusing on anything. And that’s how you’d been for the last week, only moving from your position to use the restroom, and eat and drink whatever you needed to keep your body moving - although that was more involuntary than anything else. You weren’t sure if you wanted to keep on living.
You were an anchor lost at sea.
Another two days went by before you were able to move, and that was only because JJ, Emily and Rossi had been to visit Spencer since he was attacked and he kept asking for you - asking about the baby. All three had avoided telling him themselves, dodging the questions, but you had to tell him.
Like an anchor lost at sea, you moved slowly around your apartment, being dragged by autopilot; if left to your own devices, you would’ve stood in the center of the apartment until you collapsed into a puddle on the floor.
The drive to the prison went by in time loop - somehow instantaneously and intensely sluggishly. Did you speak to anyone? You must’ve in order to gain entry into the prison, but nothing had registered, until that moment you saw Spencer walking toward you.
He smiled at you - he smiled. Because he didn’t know. Of course he didn’t, but how were you supposed to tell him…when he smiled. “Hi, love,” he said, desperately trying to keep himself from reaching over to touch your hand and getting yelled at by the guards. “How’re you feeling?”
Your breath caught as the words hardened like cement in your mouth. They were sitting there, like an anchor lost at sea, but nothing was moving them, and they began to hurt your throat. After a week and two days feeling nothing, the tears rose to your eyes again. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Baby…what’s wrong?”
“I…I lost our b-b-baby,” you cracked, inhaling hard as the realization came flooding back to you. “I lost the baby…I lost the baby…I lost the baby…I…”
Through a veil of tears, you looked up to see Spencer’s lip quivering. Against his better judgement, he reached his hand across the expanse to comfort you. “No touching!” the guard yelled from across the room.
“What happened?” he cracked. “How…?” As the tears blinked from your eyes, you could finally see his. The light had been there before when he first saw you, had vanished like a puff of smoke. While before he’d looked as though your visage made him strong, now, the same thing caused him to collapse in on himself, scratching at his chest like he was searching for a heart that had never been there at all.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you once again attempted to speak, but the words were barely audible. “After JJ came to tell you’d been attacked, I collapsed. I woke up in the hospital a couple hours later and…”
“I’m so sorry…it’s all my fault.” Spencer’s hands came up to cover his mouth, attempting and failing to stifle the cries wrenching through him. “It’s all my fault.”
With a gentle smack to the table in front of you, you grabbed his attention. “It was not your fault,” you breathed. “I should’ve been stronger…I should’ve-” Your hands flailed around you, trying to figure out what you could’ve done to save your baby.
“It wasn’t your fault either,” he said, his eyes full of rage. “It was him…Scratch…if I ever get out of here, I swear I’ll kill him for doing this to us. I swear on my life, Y/N. I won’t let our baby die in vain.”
“If?” you breathed.
“W-When…” he replied. “When I get out.” That was the first time he’d said if. You were right, his anchor to the world was gone. He’d lost hope. “When I get out, I’m going to make him pay.”
His words sounded confident and convincing, but his countenance betrayed him. He’d lost hope that he’d make it out, or make it out alive. “Listen to me,” he said as time was being called. He had to go. “Listen. Stay strong, okay. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” When he turned from you to walk back, you noticed the difference in his gait. On his way out, there had been life in his steps, but now, his feet barely lifted off the ground. Should you have kept the information to yourself? Made up another excuse as to why you lost the baby?
Since that day, you’d been the only anchor, with him as your ship - the thing you looked toward to lift you out of the water. Now? Now he’d been brought down with you, another anchor lost at sea.
At this point Alexander had memorized all the different ways Laurens said his name; for no reason other than to prepare himself for what was to come. Was John annoyed at him? No, that impatient hitch to it was currently nonexistent. Angry? No, the single word wasn’t low enough for John to me mad. In fact, when Alexander heard him repeat himself; this time closer to him than before, he could hear the slight pitch in his voice, which was an indication that he was excited. Alex liked it when he was excited.
“Laurens? Why all this fuss?”
John was practically bouncing at his feet, and Alexander had to turn his chair around to be able to observe him properly. He looked elated.
wingman!au: you just wanted to help Namjoon get a hook-up in the form of Kim Seokjin, but now look at you ending up entangled with three borderline legal guys, who all exist to either make your life hell, heller, hellest.
warnings: [m] curse words, mentions of sexuality, smut (later parts)
pairing: reader/you X maknae line (jjk, pjm, kth) || mentions of NamJin
chapter updates: every Saturday 9 p.m. CET
Now, let’s say you’re trying to help your best friend, who just dropped the news to you to be gay, to find a boyfriend, and while doing so, you have to struggle with three guys catching your attention, and you catching their attention. Every day after encountering them you surely only tell yourself this: “I should have stayed in bed, and never asked stupid questions”. Why? Oh well…
“Jin hasn’t been dating for years, I think we really have to give these two a push, don’t you think?” — Jeon Jungkook, the cute medicine first year with a charming smile and always being helpful, however, what even is his sexual orientation?
“You know, if you weren’t so miserably cute, I’d already have the best mark in class and a head start in journalism.” — Park Jimin, the sly and utterly attractive journalism third year, who has taken enough interest in you to not immediately make your life a living hell, well, kind of.
“I always question myself, if I would have been happier, if everything just stayed the way it used to before … you, me, and maybe even the piano.” — Kim Taehyung, the ex-boyfriend, who has nothing else to do, but to pop right back into your life, making old feelings hit you yet again.
And somehow, you can only have one or none: yeah, you really should have stayed in bed.
You are lounging on the terrace of the house, slowly eating frozen grapes and trying not to melt into the sunbed. Junmyeon is on your left, looking just as melty and grumpy on his own sunbed. Neither of you deal well with the heat.
Okay, okay, yes, I’m back from the dead. I am posting part 1 for this right now because it is super long and I am just finishing off part 2 so I’m deciding to just divide it into two parts. Anyways, I am SO SORRY FOR LACK OF UPDATES. I’ve explained why it’s been so long in my teaser for this story but once again, I’m truly sorry and thank you all for being so patient and loving with me. I love you all~!
So, a bunch of people enjoyed my high school AU for S.Coups, so here is a Wonwoo one for y’all!
And, for anyone who reblogs this, can you add which member you’d like for me to do a high school AU for next (because I’m doing one for all 13). I have ideas for Mingyu and Woozi (especially Woozi) but I don’t know if you guys think I should stick to hip hop unit then to do the other units, so I don’t know. AnND LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE MRS.CHU BECAUSE AS YOU KNOW AFTER READING THIS, WOOZI IS IN A MRS. CHU ONE, SO SHOULD I KEEP HER AS A TEACHER FOR EACH HS AU??
So just let me know which member and if I should use Mrs. Chu for each AU. Or you could also just send me fanmail telling me what to do~ So, onto the story. BTW, WHEN THE END OF A SETENCE HAS A BUNCH OF PERIODS AFTER THAT USUALLY WOULDN’T BE IN THAT CONTEXT, IT MEANS THERE’S SUPPOSED TO BE A LINE/CUT AFTER. TUMBLR ISNT LETTING ME ADD THOSE LINES TODAY. TT.TT
He’s the boy who always attends class late because he sleeps in, and you’re the student sitting nearest to the door. So, what do you get out of that? Probably love.
“Dude, I need help with the math homework.”
Wonwoo groaned loudly, raising a fist to his eyes and rubbing at it with a pout tugging out his bottom lip. “Now? Weren’t you listening?”
“Of course not. There was that hot new student and –“
“The guy who joined a week ago!?” Wonwoo exclaimed, shuffling into a hasty sitting position dropping his phone and hopping it back to his ear with trembling hands.
“No! Gosh, his sister. The girl in our math class.”
“I don’t even remember her,” he admitted, his mouth opening like a cave as yawn dropped from his throat. He fell back into his mattress, his other arm sprawled in the bed. He looked to the clock. 1:30. Seriously?
“Maybe because you’re always missing first period because you sleep in, hyung,” Mingyu’s deep voice reminded him before he started chuckling. “You’re starting to look like a zombie, man. Just saying.”
“Because I have stupid friends like you who call me up at 1 in the morning. Just saying.” He yawned loudly once again as his eyelids slowly weighed down, his vision slowly darkening, and eyes fluttering closed.
“Touché, “Mingyu drawled out in a chopped up and awkward French attempt at an accent. “But bro, please! You know if Mrs. Chu finds out I didn’t do it, she is going to kill me - literally,” Mingyu cried out through the phone.
“Oh, calm down. She’s not that bad, she wouldn’t actually kill you.”
“No, but she’ll tell my parents and they’ll kill me. It’ll say on my gravestone ‘Kim Mingyu. Death caused by Mrs. Chu with assistance of parents.’”
Wonwoo rolled lazily to his side, grasping his backpack and tugging it half-heartedly towards him. After a snore drifting from his mouth momentarily and Mingyu’s loud voice booming out his name, he ripped out his math notebook in frustration and flipped to the newest written pages. “Which questions?”
“I knew you’d see it my way.” He could just hear the smirk in Mingyu’s voice.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll shut up, hyung!” His voice went ten octaves higher as he squeaked in panic….
“Whoops, sorry there!”
You grimaced as another person toppled over all your stuff, smudging it with the dirt of their shoes that was splattered with mud and wrapped up grass. You gagged as you meekly brushed at the brown pieces away from your essay that was due today and had almost gotten lost with a few other of your things when you tripped over the two feet of different people in your hallway and was now in the corner, hastily trying to organize your papers back together. Your eyebrows drew in concentration as you shoved in your last worksheets for math back into your binder and wiggled onto your knees before pressing your feet to the ground and lifting yourself up.
The bell suddenly blared and your eyes bulged. You had the scariest teacher in the school, Mrs. Chu, who’d probably kill you if you end up a minute late. Your legs raced you up the large and wide staircase, flailing the side of your body to the door, and continued running until you reached the door that was right about to be shut it your face if you hadn’t screeched out, “Wait!” and practically jammed the door into the person’s nose. You rounded the opened door and saw your fellow classmate, Hoshi, clutching his nose with his eyes sealed shut.
“Oh gosh, I am so sorry, Hoshi!”
“Agh,” he sighed, releasing his nose and sauntering to his seat dejectedly. “My nose…”
You spotted Mrs. Chu watching you intently from her desk and sprinted to your seat and slid into it with a sharp intake of breath, quickly fixing the pieces of papers that were sticking out from the stack before folding your hands obediently and straightening your back and moved your gaze away from the new girl who had joined your class and was stared at by all the boys in your class and to Mrs. Chu who quizzically glanced to the door.
“Kim Mingyu!” Mrs. Chu called out demandingly.
Mingyu averted his gaze from the new girl, startled, and adjusted his posture as he gulped. “Yes, miss?”
“Where is Jeon Wonwoo?”
“I’m not sure…” Mingyu’s dark eyes wandered around the classroom. “He usually meets me at school but today he didn’t.”
“Well, he’ll definitely be marked as late.” She blew a strand of hair from her face. “Now, who finished their homework? Better be all of you.”
From the corner of your eye you saw Mingyu laughing to himself behind his large hand. You took out your math notebook with a deflated look painted across your features. You flipped to the page you had scribbled your homework questions on the night before, biting your lip as you scanned the pages to make sure every one of your answers were perfect, not wanting to take the risk of getting in trouble by Mrs. Chu.
A small and faint knock came from the door and you looked around in question if you should answer it or not. With your current teacher, you’d never know. Mrs. Chu raised her head from looking down upon students’ work and her eyes suddenly widened as she pointed to the door. “What do you think you’re doing!? You sit nearest to the door, you answer it!”
You shot right from your seat and scrambled with your feet to the door, hooking your fingers on the knob and tugged it swiftly and was met with Jeon Wonwoo standing very, very, and very close to you. His gaze made you feel as though he had never seen you before and was only now taking the time to let his sharp, black eyes run over every one of your features. Your eyes, nose, lips; his eyes rested on each momentarily. But when your eyes greeted each other, he paused and just stared at them and you wondered, “Was he always this dreamy?”
The sound of who you assumed to be your teacher cleared her throat and you saw Wonwoo’s cheeks dust off with pink as he slid past you, mumbling with his deep voice, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you blurted out loudly and you saw Wonwoo duck his head further down and scurry to where Mingyu was sitting, plopping next to him. You embarrassedly cowered into your seat, slumping with your hands folded across your stomach. Why were you getting so shy about such a short encounter? Why were you even thinking about it?
“Jeon Wonwoo, what made you so late?” Mrs. Chu demanded, slamming her hand on the desk of another one of your classmates, Seungcheol. You turned your head around, using this as an excuse to get another long stare at Wonwoo and his eyes edged away from the teacher and to you and you got caught in his eyes and he blinked away from you and up to Mrs. Chu.
The whole class laughed in sync at his reasonable explanation and you smiled adoringly at how worried he looked for being late. He scratched his head awkwardly with a slight chuckle, looking around sheepishly at the laughing class. Mrs. Chu looked him over one more time before holding her head high with a scoff. I’m letting it go this once, Wonwoo.”
He gave her a small lopsided grin. “Thanks.”
”Now take out your homework. I presume you’re finished since you had so much time to sleep in.” she looked over her shoulder to him sternly while trotting back to her desk.
“Yes, I’m definitely done.” He shot a glare to Mingyu who laughed harder into his palm before letting his own face break with a grin, his nose crinkling cutely as he delicately got out his notebook.
1 word. Swoon….
“And then guess what she said?” Mingyu gasped, his eyes enlarging as he used his hands to describe what had happened with him and the new girl when they walked home from school the day before. Sitting by yourself, cheek sagged against the fist you right hand was curled into with your elbow perched on the desk.
“What, what!?” Hoshi asked eagerly, almost falling out of his chair.
“She asked ‘Can I call you your name instead of oppa?’” he finished off proudly, leaning back in his chair as Hoshi’s mouth dropped.
“Yes! Isn’t that hot?”
“Isn’t it hotter to be called oppa though?” Seungcheol questioned, cocking his head to the side.
You yawned in boredom, soon figuring out that it was just a typical conversation exchanged by those three. You doodled a little on some blank pages as Mrs. Chu graded paper, for there were still many students to arrive.
After the classroom seemed reasonably full and crowded like usual, Mrs. Chu began reviewing how to solve some of the equations she had given your class for homework the day before. Another yawn was stretching your mouth opened but it trailed from your lips when you saw Wonwoo looking through the small square of glass planted on the door. He gave you panicked look. He probably was scared to be late again. You turned to Hoshi who was sitting at the back and had glanced up and saw Wonwoo. He raised his hand and asked for Mrs. Chu to help him with a question. She walked to the back seat in the corner where Hoshi sat at and you tip-toed carefully to the door, clutching the knob.
“Okay? Now try doing number two,” Mrs. Chu finished off, standing back up and you froze in your position as she started turning in your direction.
“Wait!” Hoshi cried out. “I need help with this too!”
“Really, Kwon Soonyoung?” Mrs. Chu muttered through her gritted teeth, whirling back to him.
You turned the knob as smoothly and silently as possible and gripped Wonwoo’s hand, pulling him aggressively inside. He tripped over his own feet and knocked his nose against yours and steadied his hands on your desk to balance himself, face close to yours. Your whole class was watching you both intently as though you were characters in a TV show.
“Go! Go to your desk!” you hissed, trying to sound angry so he wouldn’t notice your bright red cheeks. He raced to his desk as slyly as possible and you sighed as you glided back into your seat.
“What’s all this ruckus!?” Mrs. Chu yelled, her scary eyes looking over your class, mouth sewn shut stubbornly. “Hush up and get to work. Oh, and good morning, Wonwoo. Didn’t even notice you.”
Wonwoo smugly smiled, his eyes twinkling at Mingyu through the corners….
“Hey, hyung!” Mingyu’s voice called out.
Wonwoo tugged out an earphone and turned his head around in curiosity. Mingyu stopped next to him, slapping his own hands down on his knees, bending down and panting, sweat shielding his forehead. “Damn, why you do you have to walk so fast?”
“I wasn’t even walking that fast,” Wonwoo protested with a chuckle, rubbing his hand on Mingyu’s back before continuing to walk. “I waited at your locker but you weren’t there so I thought we weren’t walking home together.”
Mingyu smirked, wiping at his head with the back of his head. “Well, I was talking to someone…”
“Who were –“
“Hey, hyung,” Mingyu started a little too cheerfully, swinging a lazy arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “what do you think of you-know-who?”
“I don’t know who you-know-who is, though?” Wonwoo inquired, lifting his fisted up hands in confusion. “So, they’re actually you-don’t-know-who.”
Mingyu sighed in obvious frustration, eyebrows furrowed at Wonwoo. “The person always opening the door for you in class.”
“Oh.” Wonwoo pursed his lips tightly into a thin line, trying to resist the urge to let a smile burst on his serious face. “What about them?”
“Do you think that they’re… cute?” Mingyu questioned, scanning his nails in attempt to be nonchalant.
“Yes, very adorable.”
“Really?” Mingyu exclaimed, his eyes snapping to Wonwoo as an excited smile bloomed across his face.
“I was just trying to see your reaction –“
“So, you don’t find them cute?”
“N-No, I do!” he spluttered out hopelessly, halting to a stop to turn to his best friend. “I-I mean –“
Mingyu’s face scrunched up, his nose creasing and his face twisting in an awful expression. Oh no. Wonwoo backed away quickly.
“Ah-choo!” screeched out Mingyu into his hand, letting out a ruffled out cough before clamping the hand down on Wonwoo’s left shoulder, who cringed at the contact. “Ahem. Anyways, that’s love for you, my friend.”
“Love!?” Wonwoo gasped, his voice beginning to make inaudible noises in his throat. Love? What did Mingyu think he was up to? “Stop it…”
“Maybe you can give a thanks to them for always opening the door for you –“
“It was just twice –“
“Numbers are just… numbers. I’m sure that’s not it or how it goes…”
“Fine, I will.”
“….something to do with ages, I think.”….
You sat on the window sill of your English classroom, staring out from the window that was opened and had a cool wind swarming by and brushing your face pleasantly, swiping through your hair and every feature of yours. You smiled sweetly, inhaling the fresh air with a heave of your shoulders. Feet dangling just a few inches from the ground, your eyes locked onto the trees sticking from the ground it front of your school, happy green leaves hanging off a swiftly wobbling back and forth as the gentle wind pelted through the crooked branches. A vase was sitting next to you and two books relied on one another at the end of where you sat. You had come to your English class for lunch instead of the cafeteria because a project for the subject had to be completed by you and now you were just waiting out the last ten minutes of lunch peacefully, as your teacher had gone to get a file from Mrs. Chu.
A timid knock fluttered through the room and you raised your eyes to see Wonwoo approaching you hesitantly. Your eyes widened and you placed your hands on the window still to hop off to meet him, but he hastily raised a hand and shook his head rapidly. “Ah, i-it’s fine. I just came to give you this.”
You bit back the huge grin begging to explode on your face. He was too sweet with his awkwardness, ruffled hair and crinkling nose. A rosy colour popped suddenly to your cheeks when you looked at his offering hands thrusted out that held a small carton of chocolate milk and a round glass jar mixed with chocolate raisins, jelly beans, star-shaped marshmallows and a whole variety of other treats. Your lips parted in awe before gazing up at him only to find him avoiding your eyes by averting his eyes to the ground, a hand scratching his head in embarrassment.
You opened your mouth to speak but his deep voice echoed in the room suddenly. “I-I got to say, I’m feeling a little bit bashful doing this, but I, uh… just wanted to thank you for always opening the door for me when I’m late.”
A giggle slipped past your lips and you covered your mouth. “It was only –“
“Twice, right!? That’s what I said!” he exclaimed, outstretching his arm as an action to show how earnest he was about his unnecessary gift.
“But I still appreciate it. I’m a sucker for sweets, so this is a perfect gift. I love it, thank you.”
An awkward sense drifted into the room lonelily and you swung your locked legs together in the air, your feet almost touching the ground. Your fingers brushed the lid quietly, wondering if he were the type to think it was disrespectful to start eating the candy jellies in front of him.
“Are you going to have any..?” his voice broke the flat silence. “I arranged them myself,” he added with a boroad, proud smile as you started twiating the lid open.
You grinned at him and picked out a star shaped, pink and white candy jelly and popped it in your mouth. You chewed thoughtfully as your lips curled into a smile, for he was watching so intently with wide eyes.
“I like it,” you mumbled through your chews before swallowing it and picking another one out.
“I’m glad,” he muttered and the ring suddenly blared and his shoulders jumped in shock. You chuckled and asked, “Do you have English right now?”
“No, but I’ll see you in Mrs Chu class tomorrow.” He smiled gently at you before turning and running sheepishly out of the door.
You dropped one more candy jelly to your mouth and stuffed the jar into the side pocket of your back pack, smiling as you slipped off the window still and sprinted from the classroom to your History class. From what, you weren’t sure. The sweetness of the candies or Wonwoo?….
You tapped your right foot continuously under the desk, chewing on your bottom lips as Mrs. Chu took attendance and addressed the newest student, Jihoon, with saying, “Ugh, that’s my husband’s name….”
He swallowed and eyed the whole class that was watching before clearing his throat and adjusting his tie. “You could always just call me Woozi.”
“Woozi?” the class questioned aloud in unison. He nodded and replied it was his stage name and Mingyu and Hoshi glanced at each other in curiosity.
“Stage name?” Mrs. Chu laughed mockingly.
“Yeah, for when I perform in front of people or on a stage name.”
Mrs. Chu finished off her laughing fit with a hand swiping away a fake tear and a sigh falling from her mouth. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jihoon roll his eyes. After scribbling a few equations across the wall, Mrs. Chu turned back around and snapped for everyone to answer them in your notebooks. You sighed and flipped to a new page when you felt a hand repeatedly tapping your shoulder urgently. You turned your head around calmly and saw Mingyu eyeing your jar of candies poking from the side pocket of your backpack. He clamped his teeth together and pointed to the jar before locking his head in a begging motion.
You jokingly rolled your eyes with and faint smile, watching to see if Mrs. Chu spotted you both. Facing the front with your eyes directed to the blackboard, you slyly lifted the jar and quietly slipped your left arm out to take off the lid and held it as your fingers clasped the lining of the top of the jar tightly. You lifted the jar back to where Mingyu was sitting behind you and you heard him bend down and carefully pick one out. You whirled your head around and saw at least six candy jellies crowded in his curled up palm.
“They’re addictive,” he mouthed.
You nodded and smiled. You raised the jar so you could place the lid back on before a loud bang exploded from the other side of the door. You gasped and your whole body flinched from the sudden noise, causing the jar of candies to loose contact of your fingertips. The jar bonked against the ground roughly and candies went flying everywhere in the classroom. Mrs. Chu’s angry eyes pointed right at you and you turned to Mingyu for help only to find him on the ground, rushing to collect candies and yelling, “21 second rule! 21 second rule!!”
Mrs. Chu stomped to your desk and you stood to your feet and raced to the door and swung it opened and saw a tall figure turn only to find Wonwoo beaming at you. “Oh, hi –“
Mrs. Chu screeched out your name and you cringed as you slowly turned to her, shoulders stiff with fear. “NO SHARING FOOD IN CLASS! You and Kim Mingyu are staying after school ends to clean the gymnasium, music room the hallway this class is in. Thanks to you, the janitors will scarcely have any work! And that’s only if you do a good job!”
Mingyu groaned loudly, his cheeks huge like a chipmunk’s, filled with candies. Wonwoo glanced at his jar with a frown and you avoided his gaze as he brushed past you.
1 word. Shit…..
Fingers clutched to each other with your legs dangling, your eyes scanned the gymnasium once more before your loud sigh echoed in the large space. You were sitting on the piano – yes, an actual piano; but it was quite small – that was next to the mint and white staircase that was inside the short hallway that led to the actual gymnasium. But it technically still counted as a part of it, for it had special white shoes for girls and boys to wear when they had P.E.
Mingyu had promised to meet you and you decided at that moment you would now consider it for that boy to be seldom on time. You gazed at the meek plastic bag that had all the candies Mingyu “saved before going bad after the 21 second rule.” It was slightly opened and some of the colourful candies rolled out and you silently picked out a red one and slipped it through your lips.
Your back faced to the owner of the voice, your froze in your motioned position, eyes wide with shock. That was not Mingyu’s voice. It belonged to… Your gaze landed on the candy and in slow motion, you sucked in a breath of useless confidence and turned to him.
“How are you?” He slowly started taking steps towards you and you swallowed.
“I’m fine…” After taking a few moments to consider your next words, you blurted out foolishly, “Hey, I’m not sure if you think this is a big deal but I just wanted to apologize for dropping all the candies and-“
“No, no, no, no,” he protested immediately, striding to you. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. Mingyu told me it was him who was begging you to give him some. I know it was just a mistake.”
“Oh.” You smiled as your whole body relaxed. “Thank goodness.”
He chuckled sweetly, his nose squishing adorably as he shyly stood right in front of you, wrapping his fingers tightly around the strap of his bag and removing it with ease smoothly. “She said the music room first, right?”
“Yeah,” you responded automatically before shaking your head rapidly. “Wait, Mingyu and I are supposed to do it!”
“Uh, yeah, well, um, about that…” His eyes worriedly pinched at every inch of the gym before stammering out, “He said something about being sick…”
“Really?” you questioned suspiciously, a slight grin blooming on your face when you a saw a tint of pink brushing against his cheek.
“Yes…” he murmured, playing with his fingers.
“Okay, let’s go,” you said, jumping from the top of the piano and grabbing the bag of candies and trotting up the staircase, and shutting your eyes momentarily while thanking Mingyu for getting “sick.”
When you reached the large music room with wooden chairs’ surface planted on the top of the desk, and pastel pink and white walls with light coloured and bright turquoise curtains, you heard Wonwoo say, “You forgot the jar in the classroom.”
You swirled around and saw him cupping the jar and you sighed with your eyes huge and your eyebrows furrowed. ”I looking everywhere for it! Where did you get it?”
I picked it up when I was walking to my desk so I could give it to you after school instead of Mrs Chu taking it from you.”
“But how’d you know you’d be seeing me after school if Mingyu had suddenly gotten sick?”
He cocked his head at the side, staring at you look a small and lost puppy before his lips parted and he just quietly stared at you saying nothing.
Laughing with your head bowing down in embarrassment, you mumbled for you both to just get to work. After getting your arms and hands filled with supplies to clean, you both strictly decided that Wonwoo would get the left half of the room and you would get the right. You swept furiously at the dusty, cringing when you’d find a piece of slimy gum stuck to the ground. Your face twisted into disgust and you picked out and new and white tissue and picked it and threw it in the garbage. You saw Wonwoo with slight smirk playing at his lips from your obvious discomfort.
“Are you okay?” he inquired, grasping a wet towel and walking up to the blackboard.
“Oh, I’m fine,” you assured him before crouching down and gripping a brush as you moved all the dirt into the duster.
Rolling the sleeves of his white dress shirt to his elbows, he held the towel gently as he walked back and forth across the blackboard, wiping the whole thing clean in straight, firm lines. After finishing half of the blackboard, he head back to the sink to soak it in water again. You watched him walking back, flickering a piece of black hair that was tickling at his eye. Your hands fumbling at how handsome he looked the dirt and garbage fell to the ground, flying onto yours and Wonwoo’s side of the classroom. You slapped a hand to your forehead in mortification and he shook his head at you teasingly before reaching his hand out and asking, “Could you pass me the second broom?”
You dragged your frozen feet to the supplies and grabbed the second broom. When you were about two meters from him, he insisted that you toss it. You jumped your hand up, loosening your grip on the broom. Though it was coming right next to him, his hand was left empty as the broom toppled to the ground, almost knocking over the guitars. You saw his face flame with red and he quickly bent down to pick it up.
Once he was up, you both exchanged smiles that meant one thing. It was totally fine embarrassing both of yourselves in front of one another…..
“Won’t it take a while to clean the gym?”
“Let’s split up the jobs. One person can mop the floor, one can clean the shelves with the shoes and –“
“We’ll both clean the lockers for the classes,” Wonwoo completed for you, nodding.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed, your eyes roaming around the gym. Your gaze paused and you averted your eyes to Wonwoo. “Wait, who’ll do the shelves with shoes?”
There were horrifying stories about the shelves crowded with perfect white shoes. That rats lived under and cockroaches travelled freely through the gaps and in the midst of the dirt. The worst rumor was that there was such a disgusting thing in one of the shelves, one of the janitors had gotten bitten by it and admitted to the hospital. Thinking about it again – it sent shivers sprint down your spine.
Wonwoo swallowed an obvious lump in his throat, his palms glistening with sweat as he rubbed his palms together.
“Rock, papers and scissors?” you suggested weakly.
“Rock, papers and scissors,” he declared.
“Rock, papers, scissors,” you both murmured in sync, both of your fingers thrusted out into the shape of scissors. Sighing, you muttered it again and your rolled up fists stuck out as a rock. Third time, your flat palms met and you groaned and heaved a sigh before mumbling it once more.
“Rock, papers, scissors!” you whispered earnestly and threw your head back gleeful laughter when his scissors was knocked by your fist formed to a rock. You laughed obnoxiously like a child and pointed at him in laughter as he swung his head back with a pout, practically dragging himself to the shelves. You grabbed the broom vigorously swept at the floor, sneering at all the dirt and dust. You grabbed a pan and dust and didn’t take a break as you sprinted to each spot of the gym, repeating the steps of brooming, gagging, then pushing it into the pan with your brush. Wonwoo still hadn’t began his task and rocking on his heels hesitantly. You giggled loudly as you dumped the mop in the bucket of water and let it soak before jogging across the whole, still indulged in your own laughter as Wonwoo slapped on yellow gloves and poked at the shoes hesitantly. You stopped to a halt and watched him inspect the first shelf.
“It’s not so bad,” he admitted.
You shrugged in response, continuing to mope (A/N: hahaha get it? Mope and mop lol I’m so funny hahaha) around at a totally boring reaction from the legendary shelves. You plopped on the bench and nipped at your candy jellies peacefully as you waited for the fresh water the floor was soaked in, to dry. “Need help?” you called out to Wonwoo, who was already cleaning out the fifth space.
“No, it’s okay. Haven’t found any cockroaches or rats yet if you’re wondering.” He turned to you with a smug smile and you rolled your eyes at his fortune. As you opened your mouth to speak, the pitch of his voice reached the sky as he screamed and shuffled further away from the shelves. You exclaimed in laughter, “What is it!?”
“A cockroach!” he gasped out, his thin eyes now as huge as baby’s, marked with terror. You squinted and indeed saw, yes, a huge cockroach wandering around the sixth space.
Another burst of laughter left your lips as you reflected back to his very unmanly scream as he ordered you to get some tissues. You ran to the nearby bathroom and ripped off some toilet papers from one of the stalls and joined him, slapping it into his hand.
Fingers trembling, he raised the toilet paper as though it were an offering to the cockroach. After two minutes of patiently waiting, he voiced out how his arms ached and you placed the toilet paper into your hands.
“No it’s fine. I can do it – AH, oh my God!” he began but then screeched in sync with you as the cockroach suddenly ran to the toilet papers unexpectedly. “Go open the window in the hallway, Wonwoo!” you shouted, folding the toilet paper gently as you ran at a semi-fast pace to the hallway in order to not drop the insect. Wonwoo pulled a window opened and you delicately opened the toilet paper and let the cockroach walk across the grass. You and Wonwoo both let a long sigh drift from your lips and you tossed the toilet paper in his direction and he yelled out, fanning it away.
And then you both decided you’d work on the shelves together…..
“Last but not least.” Wonwoo nodded down at the hallway. “I can do the sweeping first and you do the mopping?”
“Sure,” you agreed, perching on top of a window still, gripping you bag that had five remining candies left. Your dentist was so going to kill you. As Wonwoo got to work, you rocked your legs merrily and said, “So, tell me more about yourself.”
He looked up at you before spots of pink reached his ears and he cleared his throat. “Well, um, the only thing I could think of is I like rapping.”
You paused your chewing with wide eyes. “Really?”
”Yeah, but it’s sort of a secret….” he confessed, avoiding your gaze.
“Will you show me? Your rapping?” you boldly asked after sucking in a breath.
”One day,” he promised, smiling shyly at you. His eyes wandered to the clock and his mouth dropped opened. “Already 6:00? I have to be home by 6:15 to go out for dinner with my family!”
You jumped off the window still. “Let’s hurry up then!”
And so then started yours and Wonwoo race and trips up and down the hallways, him sweeping up dust and you running after him with the mop. He accidently dropped the pan filled with dust and you groaned, as he quickly swept it up.
“Just the mopping left!” you squealed, running down the hallway, dragging the mop down with you as Wonwoo grabbed one of his own, lifting it so quickly some water flicked at you. “Wonwoo!” you screamed, thrusting your broom at him and he laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. He tightly gripped his mop and sent it off down the hallway as he grabbed the bottom half of your mop and sprinted down the hallway together. The sky was slowly darkening and you were both neatly placing everything back to the janitor’s storage room before he locked your hands together and your feet stomped the ground as you were met with the fresh air outside the school.
Living near each other, you both ran down the familiar route before stopping as you assured Wonwoo your home was just on the left, whereas his was on the right.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he breathed out, his dark eyes that twinkled from the sunset, boring into yours and you nodded with heavy breaths. You pulled out the last two of your candy jellies, placing the orange one in his palm and dropping the red one in your mouth before grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze, running to your home.
Prompt: Your best friend and long-time crush, Jackson, promised to be back at your shared apartment for dinner, but is late home. You get mad, and some secrets are spilled. Scenario: angst, fluff Word count: 1700
Sorry for the radio silence that lasted ages you guys. I am alive and I return with fic! Bluepulse fic! I’ve been itching to write them since I started reading the first Blue Beetle run with Jaime and the Impulse comics. This is my take on what would’ve happened if Bart got shot in the knee in the show like he was in the comics.
“Last week, you freaked out because of me. You were sitting
close by watching us train, and when the armor formed the canon, you flipped.”
Though flipped might not have been the right word. Flipped
would’ve meant flailing and screaming. Bart sort of did the opposite. At first
at least. And it’s amazing how it got the same reaction or possibly worse out
of Jaime. He felt the same immediate stab of fear when Cassie had flown over
from when she was dodging projectiles from Tigress and asked “Bart, what’s
wrong?” that he would’ve felt if Bart had fallen off the bench he was sitting
on and screamed at the top of his lungs. He felt the same, bone deep rush of
cold dread when he looked over to see Bart staring straight ahead, pale as a
sheet and trembling slightly.
Yes, i do know I’m late for the freeday. But it’s here and that’s what counts. right? Anyways, all I know is that I’ll still be writing lots of Voltron even after klance week is over - I mean, look at this ship! how could I not?!
Word Count: 2813
Summary: Working at Starbucks for over a year was sure to give Keith his fair share of stumbles with peculiar people. However, during his year, he’d never seen anyone as dramatic. And what sort of idiot called - to Keith’s personal number - at two in the morning, asking for coffee. (coffee shop Au.)
Of all things that could have happened, Keith guessed the actual outcome wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Considering how exhausting his day had been, and just how impertinent the customer was, quite a variety of things could have happened. Keith was just glad all he did was serve the wrong drink and misspell the correct name.
Having worked at Starbucks for over a year, Keith had his fair share of embarrassment. Most of the customers, however, never quite reacted this way. While the majority normally smiled tightly and uncomfortably, proclaiming to be alright, a few came with their own fatigue, and were in no mood for that, thus snapping at Keith.
Keith wasn’t really bothered by this; He was normally exasperated of his day - there was no point in holding a grudge against something he would have done himself if in different positions. That would be it and then Keith would move on for the rest of the day, stealing yearning glances at the clock hung far wall as he waited for his freedom.
University work already stole most of his day, and the job only served to shorten it drastically.
This occasion was peculiar, however, and the customer seemed to be adamant on his case.
“I asked for a caramel macchiato with coconut milk and two shots of espresso, but you guys gave me this! That’s not what I want!” Keith could feel his eyebrows twitching in annoyance only from watching this person throw their arms up, flailing as Shiro tried to calm him down.
“And not only that,” He continued, “But you all misspelled my name! It’s Lance, not Lannance!”
“I’m sorry,” Shiro apologized, smiling nervously at all the stares he received from his other visitors. “Just make your order again. We’ll be more attentive towards it and your name, alright?”
“Uh, no,” Lance glared, peering over Shiro’s shoulder onto the barista tasked with composing the drinks. “I request to personally speak to the one who committed this atrocity.”
Despite the number of attempts, it was evident Shiro would not convince this man to leave. With an apologetic cringe, Shiro craned his head back to Keith, chuckling sheepishly.
Keith, having heard the exchange, simply rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath, proceeding to join Shiro at his side.
Waving at his friend as an indication to return to other customers, Keith wiped his hand on the towel in hand, then placed it aside as he leaned on the bar.
“Yes?” He asked, his eyes boring into the other’s.
The young man crossed his arms with a huff.
“Not only did you misspell my name, but you also gave me the wrong drink.”
Keith hummed in half-hearted acknowledge. “And why did you not simply remake the request?”
Lance seemed almost baffled.
“Because,” Lance but hissed. “You misspelled my name.”
NamjoonxReader; 6541 words; A little fluff, a little smut, a lot of ridiculousness.
Happy Birthday, Namjoon. This is my ode to you.
curt call made you blink and almost drop the glass you were drying
with a ratty towel. You stifled a yawn and looked around for the
source of the unnecessarily loud order. It had come from a regular
customer you had taken to call Red Fuzz, because of his bright red
tuft and pretty pathetic facial hair.
up,” you mumbled and turned to take a clean beer glass from the
shelf. Pils from the keg, the foam of which would get stuck in what
Red Fuzz optimistically called a mustache. It was a Tuesday evening,
and the quiet idle chatter had started to make you sleepy. The bar
was always dark, and the wooden tiles on the walls swallowed most of
the sounds, but on weekdays the low voices and timid giggles turned
into a lullaby that seemed to draw you in, and draw out your shift.
you,” Red Fuzz said when you placed the beer in front of him, the
unspoken sexist nickname implied in his disgustingly sweet smile. You
forced the corners of your mouth up before disappearing behind the
bar again. After having worked here for two years, you had seen a lot
and learned even more, and one of those lessons had been that you
felt safest with at least one foot of antique walnut between you and
This is a birthday present for @rudennotgingr. When I asked her what trope she wanted me to use, she said, “Can I have confined spaces?” I said she could have whatever was in my power to give–which sadly excludes a living Dave Tiler.
Happy birthday, Jesse! I promise, when I get the machine working, you’ll get Dave.
Two weeks after The Stone Rose, the Doctor has been unable to forget kissing Rose. He tries to take her to a planet where even hand-holding won’t be allowed, hoping he can regain his control. Things don’t go as he planned…
“Arms flexed, and grabbed Rose into a hug. Soft lips pressed hers with a kiss of gratitude and joy and unspeakable pleasure of being alive.” ~The Stone Rose
It was all Mickey’s fault, the Doctor mused as he lounged on the jump seat and stared, unseeing, at the time rotor. If Mickey hadn’t shown them that statue of Rose, they’d never have gone back to ancient Rome and been turned into statues themselves, and he wouldn’t have been so grateful they were alive that he let go of more than a year’s worth of restraint and kissed her.
The Doctor scrubbed his hands over his face. It was just a quick kiss, he told himself. Barely more than a taste—a peck! he corrected quickly. But it was too late—now his bloody superior Time Lord memory was reminding him of exactly how good she’d tasted.
And that memory seemed to be infiltrating every aspect of his behaviour. This body was more tactile than his last, but the way he’d touched Rose since Rome exceeded even that threshold. In Scotland, he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her bodily out of the way of the werewolf, instead of just taking her hand and tugging her along behind him. And then—and then!—he’d actually grabbed her bum in front of Queen Victoria!
Vernon Boyd does not like
manning the cash register for The Bread Box, the most popular bakery in Beacon
Hills. He hired Erica for a reason –
she’s good at this sort of stuff, handling customers. If he gets one more
person in here asking if they can have a Black Friday discount, despite the
fact that it’s already December 2nd and this is a bakery, he’s going to close early. There’s
a reason he prefers hiding back in the kitchen.
But fuck, he should be able to
make it two hours without Erica.
“Order?” he grunts, after the
guy at the counter spends a solid five minutes just standing there.
“Uh, yeah, order,” the guy sputters,
cheeks heating as he adjusts his bulky, thick-framed glasses. “I’ll have a raspberry
cream scone and a small mocha, please. Oh! And a loaf of sourdough.”
“Do you want your coffee for
here?” Boyd asks, punching the order into the register. The customer pauses for
“Yeah,” he finally says. “For
Boyd mostly forgets about the
customer as he gets swamped by the Saturday morning crowd. Thankfully, though,
Erica swoops in precisely at ten, smiling sharply at the most recent difficult
customer and shooing Boyd back to the kitchen. He lets out a small sigh of
relief and starts working on more cinnamon rolls – those are going quickly