oooo! tell me about moonchild and danger :3
Everything I save in my WIPs are working titles, so they donât usually end up named that once theyâre posted. But!
Moonchild is a Namjoon fic, possibly a series, and meant to be on the angsty side. He takes a recuperative vacation, where he meets reader, the owner of a small coffee shop. Itâs hard to summarize it much more than that without giving away the plot (lol), so hereâs a snippet:
"How many?" he found himself asking, lips pursing into a tight line.
Your own mouth mimicked his, eyes softening with sympathy. "At least twelve, that I've been here for. I don't know how she targets, except that she usually goes after the wealthy-looking, handsome men. Most are too embarrassed once they've realized she conned them to press any charges. I've taken to trying to warn anyone I can if or when I see her in here again."
At that, his eyes finally landed on you again. You shifted, uncomfortable, but not because of his presence. You genuinely hated the situation, and the empathy was clear on your face. She's... pretty, he realized without meaning to, noticing how your bare face and disheveled demeanor somehow made you more endearing. Approachable. Looking over at Misumi - Hiyoo, whoever she was - he noticed the stark contrast between you. While you were comfortable, Hiyoo was calculated. What he once mistook for an early, casual outfit draped over her petite form was actually a little too neat, pristine. The high ponytail she wore allowed only the perfect amount of stray hairs down to frame her face, accenting her pouty features. Where his heart once leaped at the sight of her, it now thudded angrily.
"I can ask her to leave," your voice cut through his thoughts, and he looked back at you again. "I mean, I'm going to anyway. But, if you'd rather not deal with it..."
"No," he said, his voice firm and clear. "No, I can take care of her." He didn't wait for any acknowledgement before he stalked over to the table where his date waited.Â
Danger is a Yoongi fic, possibly a gang au type except that Iâm terrible at writing gangs haha. But itâs meant to be more thrilling, hopefully. Snippet!:
Stumbling only once, he ran over to her side and crouched down to examine her. She was conscious, though her eyes fluttered up at the darkening sky instead of anywhere near him. Her face was covered in blood and dirt, tear tracks crisscrossed over the crest of her cheeks and down the length of her throat where they pooled against the dips of her collarbone. The clothes she wore were too large for her and worn well past their intended use, hanging like drapes over the shape of her body. Her jeans, however, were fitted so snuggly to her legs that they had torn open at the friction points - all save one long tear over her upper left thigh. There, he noticed with a sharp pain of concern, under the frayed material, was a still-bleeding gash. Even under all the blood, it looked too clean to have been from the fall. Her chest was heaving dangerously, breath rattling around in her lungs as it struggled out of her throat.
"Shit," he cursed again, though with a much different inflection this time. His hands reached out as if to touch her, but where? She was hurt almost everywhere, and he didn't wish to hurt her further. But he couldn't just leave her here, and there was no one else around to call out to for help. They were all waiting out the storm still churning over his head.
His fingers trembled slightly as he finally laid a ginger touch to her shoulder where it didn't look too injured. He gave a gentle press down, meant to draw her attention. Instead he found himself gasping out a cry of surprise as her entire body suddenly flew up from the ground - right at him.
She was quicker than him, and as such was able to curl herself up against his chest before he could pull away. Her hands clutched so hard to his shirt that he fell against her, where she buried her face into his chest. The way her entire body just sunk into him, as if to disappear... it hurt something deep inside him. His arms hovered around her frame - untouching - his mind racing with what the fuck had just happened to his day, when quick footsteps sounded from behind them. That was when he noticed how she cowered even further into him, her entire body shaking violently.
She'd been running from whoever was now behind them. And if he had to guess, he'd bet money that they were the ones who had given her that nasty wound on her leg. His anger spiked again.
But he wasn't stupid. There was more than one set of footsteps approaching, several deep shouts echoing through the empty streets. He was only one person, and one who hadn't been in a fight in a very long time. Plus, the shaking girl clinging to him showed no signs of letting go, even if he had planned on somehow stepping up to defend her. She was in too terrible of a condition. So she became his priority.
^^This is also a reader insert story, but this part is more from Yoongiâs POV so it was easier to write in third person vs. second.