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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

I really enjoyed reading your fic fall in hatred with jin and liked the concept of a couple on the verge of a divorce. I thought I’d make a request for an angsty marriage/divorce au with another member like jk but it ends fluffy🥺

Whether you take this request or not, I wanted to say that you’re a great writer and I always love reading your stories 💜

↳ Honeymoon Horrors

3.7k || 55% Angst, 45% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Divorce!AU

It was great when it started. Cloud nine had descended down and made its home above both your heads. You were practically floating, swooning, living a romance that Nicholas Sparks would’ve envied. You felt like you were on a permanent high as if weed and cocaine was permanently stuck in your system. You had reached enlightenment and you were permanently euphoric. How could you not be? You had met your soulmate after all. But as the years passed, it came tumbling down. Cloud nine started to rain. You swooned so hard that you struck your head against the edge of the kitchen counter. Instead of floating, you were getting dragged down to hell and the high you felt turned into a crash. Most importantly, you became enraged. And you’re still mad now. When you watch your wedding videos, all you can do is throw popcorn at the screen and scream at the grinning bitch that she’s making the worst mistake of her life. Life’s full of plot twists, isn’t it? And you can only chuckle at that realization now. Because what was meant to be the honeymoon you never had, a replacement honeymoon of sorts, is turning out to be a nightmare. “Hey. Can you move?” You rip off your headphones. “Excuse me?” “You’re taking up all of the space.” Yoongi stares at you lazily. “This is supposed to be my armrest.” “No. This is mine. That’s yours.” “No. Yours is next to the window. This one is supposed to be mine. If you’re that uncomfortable, you should’ve just given me the window seat.” You scoff and shove his arm off the armrest with your own. The half-offended, half-amused expression on Yoongi’s face is utterly stupid. It’s as if he’s judging you for being childish when he was the one who started this. You wish you could punch him square in the nose. “If you want me to move, then why don’t you move your legs? You’re taking up all the leg room!” “You’re only out of space because you had to put your purse under the seat.” “Where else am I supposed to put my purse?!” “Do you see me carrying a purse?” Suddenly, there’s a clearing of the throat. A female flight attendant is standing at the aisle and leaning over while wearing a perfectly, cordial smile. “Is there a problem over here?” Your eyes narrow into the nosy bitch sitting across the aisle who probably tattled. You saw her looking in the corner of her eye from the very start. “No. Not at all.” Yoongi smiles easily. “We’re fine.” There’s an urge to roll your eyes. In all honesty, you underestimated Yoongi. While your divorce was well on its way and heading off like a bullet train, you had forgotten how petty he was. Exactly like you. Maybe that’s why for a period of time, you suited one another so well. With the deposit already given on what was supposed to be the honeymoon extravaganza you never had and the plans already made long ago, you were set on going no matter what. Except he was also set on going. The asshole couldn’t give up and neither were you willing to give in. So here you were. With your worst nemesis. “Can you repeat that?” “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no possible way we can get you two rooms.” The receptionist looks up from her computer screen. “You originally booked the presidential suite, correct?” “Yes, but we changed it into two regular rooms a while ago,” Yoongi says. His brows are cinched together and he’s gripping onto the itinerary tightly. The girl behind the front desk looks at her computer again and clicks twice but probably at nothing. “I’m so sorry. It looks like it didn’t register into our system. Is there anything else I can do for you?” This is dreadful. As if things couldn’t get worse, they got much much worse. “Great.” You haul in your luggage, no thanks to him. “This is just great.” “Yeah, keep complaining,” Yoongi grumbles, “See how much that helps.” “Shut up.” On the top floor, the room is quiet and open. There’s a love seat in front of a flat screen television, a dining room and an open kitchen and bar. The large glass windows fully face the sandy, blue beach and allows light to pour into the enormous space. There are two chairs outside the private terrace and a jacuzzi too. But as beautiful as the place is, you feel bitter. It should’ve been great. It would’ve been great if you were alone. And to make matters worse, it seems like the resort hadn’t gotten the news that your relationship with Yoongi was essentially decimated. Not when there was a scattered rose petal path leading up to the king-sized bed which also had two folded doves on it with the word ‘congratulations’ spelled out in more petals. There’s also a note: I hope you enjoy yourselves, Mr. and Mrs. Min. And neither of you miss the mountainous stack of condoms on the nightstand. Yoongi’s pale. “Christ.” The knock on the door breaks the thick tension. Yoongi opens the door, and he immediately steps back as two enthusiastic employees enter while wheeling in a silver cart. “Aloha, welcome to Hawaii! Are you the newlyweds?” “Umm…” The two of you are well past that period. To be exact, you married nearly two years ago, but you don’t know how to break it to them. Yoongi’s never been good with words either. “Enjoying your honeymoon, aren’t you? Congratulations!” The older man is excited as if he was the one who got married. “We bought you a bottle of our best champagne to celebrate and hope you have an everlasting marriage!” The girl beside the man pops the cork and pours the champagne, and you realize it would be more painless to go along with it. “Thanks,” you mumble, taking your flute of champagne and nearly downing the entire thing in one go. Yoongi holds his and raises a brow at you. “We also have a red velvet cake.” He shows you on the busy cart. “And our freshest chocolate strawberries just made earlier by our finest chef. I think you’ll enjoy this chocolate as well.” “Thank you.” Yoongi offers a faint smile. “This is really nice.” “Of course, of course! Anything for our newlyweds!” There’s a small bowl of almonds next to the chocolates and two raw oysters served on a plate. It’s odd with the ensemble, but then the man leans closer as if revealing a secret and puts a hand by his mouth. “It is said almonds, chocolate and oysters are aphrodisiacs.” You choke on your champagne, sputtering. The girl grins. Yoongi’s wide-eyed. He collects himself quicker than you do. “Thank you.” Luckily the friendly, borderline-overbearing staff leave the both of you to it and you’re put out of your misery. For only a moment. “Are you going to finish that bottle of champagne by yourself?” Yoongi asks across the room and you turn your head to see his cocked brow. Of course, he’s unpacking. The asshole doesn’t know how to relax and always has to make you look bad. You scoff. “I’m about to open the red wine too.” “Never thought I’d see you be reduced to a drunk so quickly.” “Why can’t you just leave me alone? You’re always judging and nitpicking me.” “I was making a comment.” “Yeah and no one asked you to,” you mumble into the glass. Yoongi eyes you. “You don’t have to get so upset, Y/N.” “Are you serious?” Your posture straightens, legs lifted off the chair you propped them on and feet shifted onto the ground. “I was sitting here minding my own business. Why don’t you mind your own business.” “I just thought you didn’t want to be sloppy when dinner hasn’t even started yet.” “I know how to control my pacing.” Yoongi snorts. Your tongue rolls inside your cheek. “Excuse me?” “What?” “You look like you want to say something.” “No. Not at all.” You place the flute down onto the table. “Say it, Yoongi.” “I thought you said I should mind my own business.” “You’re such a condescending asshole, you know that?” Yoongi stops folding his shirt and shuts the drawer. His expression is impassive and it irritates you more. “Pot meets kettle.” “For someone who’s supposedly quiet, you fucking never know how to shut up.” “Can’t you just calm down, Y/N? Unlike what you think, I’m not trying to get on your nerves. I’m trying to enjoy this trip.” “Why are you acting like I’m the only one getting upset and that I’m the crazy one,” you spit, and he opens his mouth as if to say you are being crazy. But you don’t let him— “Don’t you dare say it. Fuck you, Yoongi. You don’t think I’m trying to enjoy this too? You think I wanted it to be like this?!” “Maybe if you weren’t trying to pick a fight with me every goddamn second, you would have a good time, woman.” “You’re the one who’s always trying to pick a fight with me!” He sighs, body language dismissive to what you’re saying. “Stop being so upset—” “Well too bad, I am upset! So just let me be!” You stand on your feet, teeth gritted and fist clenched. You’re practically screaming across the suite but there aren’t any close enough neighbours to complain. “You’re always telling me what I should and shouldn’t feel! This is exactly why we’re getting a divorce!” With the last word said, you stomp away and the bathroom door slams shut. It’s the only place you can be alone, but even then, the four walls are frosted glass. … You’re not sure who brought up divorce first. It’s not like it matters. But one thing you do know is that it came up in an argument. A jab where someone’s sole intention was to hurt. And the other person stubbornly retaliated with ‘fine, have it your way’. You remember calling your lawyer and him calling his. The process continued and continued and as it did, so did your arguments as the two of you realized no one was going to stop it. It became more painful the more time that went on. Clearly, it meant he was serious about it. Clearly, he didn’t care if he was happy to sign divorce papers. So you made yourself not care too. And it continued to snowball like that. Before you knew it, you were telling your families that the divorce was happening, much to their distress. Before you knew it, here you were. By the time you get out of the bathroom, Yoongi’s gone. He probably left for some peace and quiet. After all, it’s volatile when you’re together. It’s not like you want it to be that way, it just became that way. What sucks the most is that you know he’s right. You’re part to blame for the recent argument. You got too worked up unnecessarily. You’re constantly on the defensive as if he’s out to attack you. And once it’s quiet, you hate that you shouted. But he has his own part to blame too. Yoongi knows how to get under your skin. He knew he was egging you on and he didn’t stop. So it escalated and escalated. You end up wandering the resort by yourself. You enjoy the sunset on the beach and when the dinner buffet is open, you sit alone with your plate, staring out into the empty abyss of the ocean shrouded in darkness. All around you, there are families and lovers, jovial music that’s inviting. Yet you feel isolated in the crowd. You try to move around, preoccupy yourself. But the last thing you expect is to see Yoongi. Across the bar. With a pretty, young girl on his arm. A sun-kissed blonde, to be specific. Wearing a crop top with booty shorts. Yoongi’s nursing a whisky on the rocks, his usual drink, as she grasps onto his bicep. The swell of her breasts are practically pushed onto him. She says something and he smiles. At the same time, something boils in the pit of your stomach. It’s pure, unadulterated rage. Before you know it, you’ve turned on your heel and beelined to the hotel lobby bar. You call yourself hard liquor and down the drink as you seethe. The image of him and that Barbie doll is seared into your mind, flashing beneath your eyelids each time you blink. The liquid burns and tears pool into your eyes, but you hold them back. The bar is busy, filled of guests constantly ordering, so no one notices that you keep downing bitter drinks until there’s a tap on your shoulder— “Aloha.” A concerned employee looms over you. “Is everything alright?” That’s when you realize you’ve been drinking by yourself for three full hours. The table’s crowded with glasses and the ones on the edge are a centimeter away from falling over. You end up waving him away and stumbling back to the room. The world is teetering and you try to lean onto the wall for balance. It’s a miracle that you pressed the right number on the elevator when everything was swirling together. Or at least, you’re pretty sure this is the right floor. You pound on the door. “Yoongiiiiii! Yoongiii! Open up!” When there’s no response, you mutter ‘asshole’. Then your eye peels open and you realize you’ve been knocking against the door of the ice and vending machine room. You turn on your heel and careen to the next door. “Yooongiiii!” you whine his name in exasperation, cheek pressed against the smooth surface. You only have to call out twice before the door’s suddenly swinging open and you’re falling into the arms of your (soon-to-be ex-) husband. “‘Bout time. Was waiting foreverrr!” “Fuck.” Yoongi’s nose scrunches at the smell of alcohol and he grabs a hold of your shoulders, pulling you away from him, nose scrunched at your smell. He keeps you at a safe distance as if you were nervous middle-schoolers at your first dance. You hate it. Why can’t he just hug you? “God, how much did you drink, Y/N?” “Dunno. Lost my key card.” “What?” The door swings shut. “Are you banging a chick in our room?” you slur, trying to keep your eyes open to look at him. He was already changed into his soft pajamas, a blue checkered print that made him look so much cuter. It’s unfair. “Am I interrupting?” His brows cinch together, lips turning down. Yoongi’s visibly confused. “Ban—” “Saw you talkin’ to that pretty girl at the bar,” you huff, wobbling back and forth. He’s dumbfounded. “Who?” “Don’t play stupid!” You poke his chest with your finger. “That lil girl who looks like a model!” Yoongi winces at the volume of your voice and you add in frustration, “I’ll leave if you are, so just tell me already.” “No, I’m not sleeping with anyone, Y/N.” Yoongi fixes his arm around your waist to keep you balanced and he sighs, reaching down to help you take off your shoes. “So much for knowing how to pace yourself, Y/N,” he mumbles with a faint smile on his lips instead of the annoyance you’re used to. Yoongi loops your arm around his neck and begins to guide you towards the bed. But you stop, making your legs deadweight and you turn to him, staring into his eyes so deep, it’s like you’re looking into his soul. It’s pretty. “What?” he asks, almost uncomfortable by your intense gawking. “Do you not love me anymore?” “What?” “Just tell me, goddammit. Do you have no feelings towards me no more?” You pound your chest with your free hand. Yoongi plops you onto the love seat when he sees that you have no plans of making it to the bed. “Did everything mean nothin’ to you?” He remains silent. You angrily shout— “Answer me!” Yoongi flinches. “God, Y/N. You don’t need to scream, I’m right next to you.” He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “If it meant nothing to me, do you think I’d be taking care of you right now? Now sit here and wait.” With his dictatorial command wielded with his low voice, you pout but obey. Yoongi returns a minute later with your pajamas in one hand and a cool glass of water in the other. “Drink this. And all of it.” You nurse the glass of water with two hands and get a sip in. But your pout persists and before you know it, you’re bursting into tears. Yoongi all but freezes. “’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t wanna fight.” “Y/N.” “I don’t mean to be so mad! I’m sorry.” Yoongi kneels in front of you with a long sigh. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he coaxes and tugs the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the beads of teardrops trekking down your cheeks. “I know you didn’t mean it.” “Really?” “Yes. If anything….I’m sorry too,” Yoongi mumbles solemnly and before you can react, he’s already moved on. “Now drink your water.” You cry into your glass, but you down the entire thing like he said and your crying stops by the end. “Arms up,” Yoongi commands and you listen to him. He peels off your shirt in one single swoop and tosses it aside. He helps you put on your pajama top without blinking an eye and pulls the hem of your leggings to replace those as well. Yoongi even takes a damp washcloth to wipe your face and you watch him the entire time. His lashes are long, and Yoongi’s so nice and reliable. “Let's get you to bed, alright?” You nod, and he guides you to it, having cleared the rose petals earlier. “So you didn’t sleep with her?” “No.” “Why not? She was hot!” “I wasn’t interested.” “Really?” “Really,” Yoongi assures as he sets you to sit on the edge of the mattress. He moves to pull the sheets and struggles with how tucked in they are. In the meanwhile, you get the greatest idea you’ve ever had— “Then fuck me instead before you fuck her.” “What?” Yoongi’s entire body goes rigid and he whips his head towards you with eyes that nearly bulge out of their sockets. You pout at him. “I wanna suck your dick and feel it in me, Yoongi. I miss it. When we used to have sex. It was so good.” “Oh, you are so drunk.” He chuckles, a sound that sounds so nice you wish you can hear it forever and ever. “You’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow, Y/N.” Yoongi pulls the sheet and is about to get you tucked in. But you steal the opportunity when he gets close and you loop your arms around his neck. “No, I’m not.” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Remember when you used to spit in my mouth? And you liked it sooo much.” You giggle when you notice his ears becoming hot and red. “You still like it now, don’t you, you nasty freak!” You smack him on the shoulder in the midst of your bubbling laughter and he winces. “Ow!” “Imagine if I got pregnant from it too!” you add in your hysterics. “Let’s not.” “I always thought our kids would be so cute. Especially if they got your cheeks.” You reach and tug on Yoongi’s cheeks while giggling. He lets you have your fun, staying still and letting you squish his face together. And in your drunken state, you don’t realize how tender his eyes become. “We’re getting a divorce, Y/N.” You frown. “Why on earth would we do that?” “Because,” he murmurs. “Let’s not,” you slur. “Can’t we cancel it?” It goes quiet with Yoongi gazing into your eyes. “Do you even know what you’re saying?” “Yeah.” You grow sheepish. “Aren’t you supposed to get a divorce if you hate each other?” “That’s how it works generally.” Yoongi stands and gently presses on your shoulder to lay you down. The pillows feel soft underneath your head and he starts to tug the covers up to your chin. “But I don’t hate you. I care a loooooot about you.” You sulk. “Otherwise, why’d I get jealous when I saw you at the bar?” The corner of his mouth tugs. “So you’re admitting you were jealous?” “Wouldn’t you get jealous if you saw me with someone else?” Yoongi thinks about it. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” He finally admits, “Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed.” You hum contently, lids becoming uncontrollably heavier. You want to stay up. It’s so much fun talking to Yoongi. It feels like forever since you talked to him like this. But you’re so tired. And comfortable. You want him to cuddle and spoon you to sleep. Yoongi cuddles are the best. “Yooongiiii.” You call out to him with your eyes closed. “Yeah?” “I think—” You go dead quiet and after three seconds, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then your mouth moves again. “—I loooove you.” A beat later, your two arms suddenly raises up into the air. Hands measuring about a ruler stick length. “This much.” He snorts and turns off the lamp. “Go to sleep, Y/N.” … When you wake up the next morning, your head is absolutely pounding. For the first time, you detest how much light the damn room lets in. You also curse aging and having to suffer hangovers when five years ago, you were perfectly unscathed the next day after drinking. Luckily, there’s advil on the bedside with a tall glass of water and you down the entire thing after taking a pill. You’re not so sure where these came from, but your answer is across the room. Yoongi, realizing you’re awake, has an amused smile on his face and his brow cocked. More importantly, his eyes have somehow softened. You groan, remembering last night. Every detail. Every word. Like a film that could be played back. It’s mortifying and even without your obvious reaction, Yoongi’s been with you long enough to know how superb your memory is even after being wasted. He knows you know. And the worst part? You meant it all.

#bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi reader insert #yoongi x reader #Anonymous #omeone tell me why two of my Yoongi drabbles are so FUCKING LONG. it's practically a oneshot ;_;

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Complaint No.3

Pairing: John Constantine x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: It was tough enough that you had history with the man but now you had to share space with the Hellblazer!

“Sara!” Your voice echoed down the corridor and onto the bridge where it made the Captain sigh. This had been the third cry in the same week.

Hearing the door open and footsteps thunder in, Sara took in a deep breath.

“What is it this time?”

Storming to a halt, you pointed to the left, “The library is a communal space - it’s not a hot yoga room where people can prance around naked.” You complained.

Squinting, Sara assumed that by ‘people’ you meant John Constantine. Before she could address it, the doors opened again to let the accused in, wearing a burgundy robe, tying it together as he walked.

“Oh, calm yourself. The library has the perfect temperature and ambiance for meditation. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been dabbling in dark magic to help you lot catch escaped ‘hell beasts’ - it takes a toll on the mind.”

You whipped your head in his direction, “Then why are you naked?”

“Helps me focus.”

His answer was swift and you hated it all. Ray popped his head up from under the main console and stood up to join the conversation.

“Actually, I heard that losing clothes during meditation can be freeing.” He said cheerfully.

Mick let out a grunt, “I think that’s just ‘porn’, Haircut.”

Ray chuckled at the comment before the realisation dawned on him and that his fire-friendly buddy was right. Urging them to dismiss his statement, Ray disappeared beneath the console again.

Constantine smirked and crossed his arms, “Why so flustered Y/n?”

You scoffed, refusing to let his flirtatious manner sweep you away, “Believe me, you don’t have anything that could fluster me.”

“Is that so?”

Fixing him with a challenging stare, you were ready to plant yourself to the spot until he caved but Sara, who was still present, didn’t have the same level of patience.

“Guys, you’re both adults. I’m sure you can find a way to use library hours without running into each other - like scheduled time slots.” She said, quite pleased with the idea that sprang to mind.

You turned and squinted, “You’re joking right? You’re going to let this clown continue?” You pointed to the blonde-haired man. “Sara, there are ancient books in there that can’t be replaced if John gets his toadstool-venom candle wax on them.”

“Actually it’s melted cinnamon, love.”

Frack, you cursed internally. That explained why he smelled like a dream.

Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your hip. “Well, either way - the books could be damaged.”

“Alright - I’ve heard enough!” Sara snapped. “I’m splitting the library in half. Y/n on one side and John on the other. Move the shelves if you have to but you need to get used to sharing.”

Still against the decision, you stomped off to the library without another word. If you had to share with John Constantine, then it was happening on your terms.

Without wasting a beat, you grabbed a roll of tape from Nate’s desk and got to work. Constantine walked into the library only ten minutes later and found you reading at your desk quietly.

He also found a medium-sized box outlined in masking tape on the floor.

“Either that’s for me or you’ve uncovered the crime scene to box-man.”

Lowering the ancient texts, he saw you smirk. “Get used to it, John. That’s your new space.”

It seemed like he was going to argue about it at first but Constantine shrugged and accepted the situation without so much as a fuss. Almost immediately, the man unfastened the belt around his waist and dropped his robe to the ground, the silk gathering by his ankles softly.

“Let’s get back into it.” He said and stepped into the middle of the room.

He expected you to jump up and leave like you had done previously but as it turned out, while you fixed him an invisible meditation prison, you also shelved some books on the desk in a strategic fashion that allowed you to see Constantine from the waist up.

“Clever.” He remarked with a slight chuckle. “Too shy to drop a book or two?”

You quirked a brow at him for a quick second before returning to the pages in hand.

“Got to leave something to the imagination, John.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #john constantine x reader #john constantine imagine #constantine x reader #constantine imagine #dc imagine #dc x reader #legends of tomorrow imagine

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

who's the boss | jhs

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

genre: fluff, slight enemies to lovers, boss!hobi, pa!oc

warnings: like one moment of suggestive content, confessing but no real confessions, jimin is your annoying best friend

words: 4, 663

summary: valentine's day with your stupid (hot) boss

“You look miserable.”

Jimin snickers when he walks past your slouched body across your desk, ensuring that you saw the mocking look he gives you when you glare at him.

“Please tell our boss that.” You mutter under your breath, attempting to avoid the mountains of work that sat in front of you.

“You’re his assistant—you out of all people should know that he’s a force to be reckoned with.” Jimin points out, slamming a new pile of folders on your desk.

You gape at him, observing the unforgiving amount of work that now occupies both your desk and time; and Jimin only offers you a half-hearted shrug before patting you on the shoulder.

“Mr Jung wants it by tonight,” Jimin lets you know as he begins to walk off.

The deadline has you snapping your head rapidly to his retreating figure as you quickly stand up to call for him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You exasperate, “Jimin—there’s no way I can get this done by tonight let alone this week!”

Jimin doesn’t even turn around when he shrugs, as if to tell you that it was your problem to deal with.

You growl, helplessly staring at the work that scatters your desk before your eyes narrow to the office next to yours, doors shut tight.

Before you can think twice, blinded by pure anger, you storm towards the secluded room; ignoring the stares from your co-workers, and a few sighs that you can tell is coming from Jungkook knowing that you were going to piss your boss off yet again.

You don’t knock, long past that level of formality with your boss as you slam the door open, eyes narrowed intimidatingly at the unsuspecting victim of your rage, who just looks up from his laptop with a raised brow.

“____, are you already done with—”

“Jung Hoseok.” You hiss, interrupting him as you shut the door behind you, rolling up your sleeves as if that would intimidate the man; fully aware that he towered over you, even in heels.

He slowly brings his laptop to a semi-closed position and leans back into his seat, arms carefully folded across his chest in a way that makes him look intimidating yet commanding.

It was a pity that your boss was such a douche because he was truly one of the most beautiful men that you’ve had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting in your entire life. Hoseok had the charm of a man that held himself with confidence and assurance, knowing that he was likely the hotshot of every room he walked into.

However, that also meant that he had a justifiable inflated ego that you were on the receiving end off, purely because you were hired as his personal assistant and not some other poor soul.

“That is my name, yes.”

You stomp towards his desk and slam your hands down onto the expensive wood, making sure your eyes are locked onto his stoic expression.

Momentarily, you see his eyes glance down to your chest where a decent amount of cleavage is likely being displayed to your boss, but it goes as quickly as it comes when he returns his gaze onto your blazing one.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You snap.

He blinks at you, hands clutched together as he leans forward on his elbows, face getting impossibly closer to your own that you have half the mind to put some distance between the two of you to preserve the beating of your heart.

“Is that any way to speak to your boss?” He cocks his head to a side, a teasing smirk dawning on his face.

“Cut the shit,” You hiss, “In what goddamn universe did you think it was justifiable for you to give me a month’s worth of work and expect it to be done by tonight?!”

He sighs, leaning back into his chair and man spreads in a way that you usually would hate, but of course, Hoseok made it look undeniably hot, and inviting.

“Didn’t I hire you because of your work ethic?”

You scoff in disbelief, arms folding across your chest.

“This is not about work ethic, and you know it. You have some secret vendetta against me and I see through your shit.” You accuse.

“Do I, Ms ____?” He says in a voice so low that it makes you stutter in your response.

“You tell me, Mr Jung.” You retort.

He observes your expression for a moment, taking in the way that you were breathing heavily and how your cheeks were a little flushed from your rant. Hoseok smirks at you because even though you were a lot to deal with, and had a tongue sharper than anyone he’s known, you were adorable.

Just like a kitten that was waiting to be tamed.

“Very well then,” He claps his hands together and opens his laptop again.

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for his next set of words. You recognise the slight gleam in your eyes and that causes an unsettling feeling to develop in your stomach.

“Work overtime.” He says simply as if it was the most obvious solution.

You gape at him, baffled at his blunt suggestion.

“What? That’s your solution? To work overtime?” You snap.

“I don’t see a better option knocking at our door’s here.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

You grit your jaw and feel your eye twitch at his indifference, and you think about risking getting reported to HR, or even getting fired just so you could reach over and strangle the hell out of your insufferable boss.

“Give me an extension.” You all but demand.

“No.”

You’re about to leave with your dues until he answers you, and you snap your head to look at him incredulously.

“What do you mean no?” You hiss.

“It’s exactly what it means, Ms ____. I want the documents sorted through and filed by tonight. Even I’m working overtime and I’m the boss.” He smirks, eyes still not straying away from his laptop.

“Hoseok you don’t understand. I can’t.” His name slips out involuntarily, and you almost miss the way a smile teases his lips when you opt for his actual name than the nicknames you’ve resorted to.

“Oh? Did you have plans tonight?” He pries, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He knew. He knew what today was and gave you a shit ton of work.

You clench your jaw and give him a curt nod.

“Yes. I do.”

He hums under his breath, glancing down to type something onto his laptop before shutting it completely.

“Well—cancel them. You have plans with me now.” He says.

You choke on your spit at his calm declaration as you splutter to find a response.

“I can’t just cancel a date—!”

You snap your mouth shut when his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in a mischievous manner as if seeing you flustered was his favourite sight to behold.

“As your boss, I think I call the shots here, don’t I?” He pushes himself off his chair to walk towards you, height and presence imposing on your retreating figure.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You spit when he engulfs your space with his presence.

The navy grey suit he chose to wear today flattered his physique wonderfully, showcasing his lean and long limbs as well as his built. It didn’t help that he styled his hair with it parted by the side, his forehead on full display—as if to mark his territory as the most intimidating (and handsome) person at the office.

“Call me what you wish,” He shrugs, a smirk on his face, “We’ll have a lot of fun tonight, won’t we?”

You’d be lying if you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach.

“Mina—tell the blind date you set me up on that I can’t make it tonight,” You sigh, phone between your shoulder and your ear as you type away at your computer.

You hear Mina whine on the other end about how she thought the guy she set you up with was a perfect match for you. Truthfully, you didn’t even want to go on the date in the first place; but Mina said that you needed to get over the hots you felt for your boss even if he was the most infuriating person in every room he’s in.

“You’re not lying to get out of this, right? Do you really need to work overtime?” She whines.

You sigh.

“Do you remember who I work for? Of course I need to work overtime.” You mutter.

“How am I going to tell Jae?” She complains, and you briefly hear a thud on her end; probably signalling the fact that she flopped onto a surface in despair.

You snort and narrow your eyes to get a better view of the details on your spreadsheet, ensuring all facts and figures were aligned before saving it and proceeding to the next set of work you needed to finish.

“You’ll find a way,” You tell her, “I need to go. I have ten more documents to sort through and they’re all due tonight.”

Mina blows a virtual kiss for you and bids you goodbye, saying to kick your boss in the ass for her.

The moment you hang up, you see Jimin and Jungkook walk pass your desk with their bags over their shoulders, stopping by you to offer a sympathetic smile.

“Have fun working overtime ____,” Jungkook says, and it’s sincere enough to make you give him a half-hearted smile.

“Work on sucking your boss’ dick too.” Jimin snickers, mimicking the action inside of his cheek as you glare at him, chuckling a piece of crumpled paper in his direction.

“Jungkook—tell Taehyung I said hi,” You smile sweetly at him, then narrowing your eyes into slits at Jimin, “Jimin, I hope you puke out all the chocolates you’re going to binge on tonight.”

He gasps, hands resting on his chest in mock offence as he waves you goodbye, heading out as you return the gesture with your longest finger.

There the last bit of your co-workers that left the office, and now it was just you—and Hoseok—but he was cooped up in his office, for whatever reason it may be.

You sigh, cracking your knuckles forward as you attempt to race through all the documents that needed to be sorted through as fast as you can so you could go home and binge-watch all the romantic comedies in your watchlist.

The quote time flies sits prettily on the tip of your tongue when you glance at the clock on your table to tell you that it was half an hour till midnight, meaning that you slaved away to work for an additional 6 hours.

You huff, at least thankful that you were finally done.

Even with Hoseok’s words saying that he’d work overtime as well, you were sure he was just in his office relaxing while you did his hefty work. The thought makes you frown as you clean up your workspace, ensuring that it’s in a pristine condition before you head back.

“_____?”

Hoseok’s voice peeks out from his office and you stop your ministrations to turn your head to look at him, a few stray strands of hair falling by the side of your face as you do so.

Hoseok can’t help but appreciate how relaxed you look, a juxtaposition from the usual prim and proper persona you took on during work. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, and a few buttons of your blouse were undone to give yourself some room to breathe.

“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow, beginning to get irritated with the way his eyes unabashedly observe you.

You have the words on your tongue already, preparing to cuss him out with your mouth and your fist if he gave you any more work to do.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks.

You raise an eyebrow, watching his figure lean against the frame of the door.

“No, I haven’t. I was too busy finishing up the documents for you, remember?” You bite, can’t be helping the snark that your tongue releases.

A small twinge of a grin appears on his face as he cocks his head to his office, gesturing you to enter.

“I have some food. Do, join me.” He asks.

You blink at him, hands still clutching the last bit of your belongings as you mull over his proposition. While you and Hoseok worked close and hand in hand in business operations, you managed to have professional boundaries with him (which didn’t include the fact you cussed him out every five minutes). So, for him, the poster image of uptight and professionalism; with the occasional blunder, to invite you for a small meal outside of business?

You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster.

“Ah … it’s fine—I’ll probably heat some leftovers up—” You shake your head to deny.

But as you were caught up in a daze, Hoseok had seemed to have made his way to your desk, body positioned in a way that locks you in so that you had no other way to escape.

“Nonsense.” He tuts, grinning at you with his award-winning smile and you find it very hard to find him distasteful when he has the ability to reduce you to mush.

You notice that he mirrors your appearance in the sense that he looks far more casual than he usually does during work hours. He’s abandoned his blazer, and all he’s left in is his dress-shirt that does absolutely nothing in hiding his figure and slacks that just accentuates his waist even more. The fact that he also has his sleeves rolled up makes you more flustered than you’d like.

“It’s late—” You try to make an excuse, but he’s tugging you by your wrist to follow him and you have no objection on your tongue when you’re in his office.

Somehow, you've been in the room a million times, the second person that spends the most time in here besides Hoseok himself, yet tonight feels different.

The context of sharing a small meal with him seems almost illegal as if you were committing a crime.

“When did you even order this?” You mutter, when you realise his desk was already cleaned of all work-related stuff and only left with the brown packaged bags of food.

“Of course you didn’t notice,” He teases, gesturing for you to take a seat on the chair next to him.

You roll your eyes, bowing your head slightly to thank him when he passes you a sandwich, and you’re pleasantly surprised to know that it was your favourite order from a place you frequented during your lunch breaks.

“How did you—?”

“I’m not that much of an asshole to not know your likes and dislikes ____.” He jokes.

You purse your lips, flustered because while you and Hoseok bantered back and forth, and you were definitely tougher on your own boss than you were to your colleagues, you knew deep down it was an act of self-preservation to convince your own heart that keeping him away was safer for you.

“I didn't mean it like that …” You mumble, munching on your food.

Your eyes are too focused on the sandwich that you miss the fond expression Hoseok gives you, opting to just observe small bites that you were taking.

Eventually, you do notice that Hoseok isn’t eating but paying full attention to you, chin resting on his palm as he blatantly stares at you. When your eyes look up to meet his own, you flush and look away immediately, ears burning red under the dim light as you attempt to cover it up with a cough.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

He shrugs.

“I had my dinner hours ago. This is for you.” He gestures to the food, “You know I despise these things. They’re so pretentious.”

You gape at him with an open mouth.

“Then why are you still—” It seems like Hoseok is dead-set on not allowing you to finish most of your sentences tonight when he responds before you can finish.

“I was waiting for you.” The confession knocks the wind out of your chest as you look at him with wide eyes, heart beating faster when he nonchalantly admits that he was cooped up in his office—waiting for you?

“You didn’t have to do that Hoseok …” You mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear bashfully—a habit you only do when you’re embarrassed.

He snorts.

“A thank you would be nice, sweets.” He leans forward, face inches closer to yours as you yelp and leans back into your chair.

The term of endearment doesn’t fall deaf on your ears as you blush even harder. You want to curse at yourself because you’re much stronger than this, you’ve trained for years to not let your feelings show in front of Hoseok because well … he was the CEO and you were his personal assistant.

While there was no strict ban on dating your boss, you had ethics and principles of your own that somehow convinced you that it would’ve been messy. And messy it would be because you worked with him on every single project, communicated information to him and basically was his confidant—purely transactional—so you wouldn’t risk your career just to be with him.

Especially when you didn’t know if he felt the same way.

Even when he looks at you like that.

“I’m waiting …” He sing-songs, grinning at you.

You roll your eyes, looking away when you mumble:

“Thank you.”

He seems satisfied as he leans back into his chair, gesturing you to finish your meal.

The sandwich was delicious, as always, but once you took the last bite you were starting to wonder if Hoseok had really just waited hours, and now to just have you eat in front of him.

“Thank you for the meal, Hoseok.” You say politely.

He eyes you for a second, until his eyes glance to the side of your head—then back at you.

“It’s five minutes before midnight.” He points out.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“… okay?”

“So … aren’t you going to wish me?” He pries.

The cue falls over your head, until you see and feel Hoseok, cage you in your chair.

You let out an eep at the sudden proximity, flushed at the way Hoseok grins at you all suave-like.

“Wish you?” You squeak, “W-What do you mean?”

He sighs, resting his palms on the side of your chair, looking at you with a fond expression that you were sure your eyes were deceiving you with.

“I dunno. Isn’t today a special day?” He teases, and he revels in the fact that you’re turning into a tomato under his scrutiny.

“I-Is it? I didn’t—I didn’t know that …” You gulp.

Hoseok takes the leap of faith and reaches out to pat your head, as you freeze under the touch.

“There were flyaways.” He smirks.

You feel like dying because of how close he is to you, and you know that he won’t let you go unless you say the words he’s tried to pull out from you. So, you swallow your pride, and honestly, gather all the courage you have in you to wish him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hoseok.” You mumble, eyes avoiding his.

He doesn’t do anything for a split second, and you feel like a fool. You’re about to push him away until he moves—shuffling between his drawers to pull out—

“Flowers?” You cock your head to the side when he hands them over to you.

They were a beautiful arrangement, meticulously curated with the hands of someone that wanted perfection. It was very like Hoseok, but also included all of your favourite flowers and colours that you can’t help but imagine how cohesive the two of you would be.

You try to shake out of your delusions because you’re still processing the fact that Hoseok had handed you a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen and received.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, _____.” He smiles, and it lacks the usual mirth that he carries when he’s out to poke at you. This time, his smile is kind, warm—and longing.

“W-What is this for …?” You admire the arrangement, and it feels heavy in your palms. A testament to the effort put in, as well as how expensive it must’ve been.

“For being a great personal assistant,” He says.

It’s like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you when he says those words. You blink up at him, then you scowl—shoving him away from you as you abandon the flowers on the table. Your heart was so hopeful as if you had managed to understand what was going on in Hoseok’s heart—but he reminded you of who you were and the world between the two of you shattered.

“Hey—hey. Where are you going?” Hoseok seems panicked but you don’t pick up on much as you hastily try to leave.

“Home, Hoseok.” You say curtly.

He’s faster than you when he grabs your elbow to spin you around to face him.

“Do you not like it?” He furrows his eyebrows.

You glare at him, and all the irritation in you returns when he genuinely looks clueless.

“No, Hoseok. I fucking love it.” You try to pull away, but he’s stronger than you.

“Then what’s the problem?” He huffs.

You narrow your eyes at him and even though he both makes you want to rip your hair out and makes your heart feel funny—he genuinely looks confused.

“You!” You yell, shoving at his chest as he just looks at you quizzically.

“You’re my problem Jung Hoseok,” You point a firm finger into his chest, “You’re always making me do your work for you and teasing me until I want to rip your hair out—then you do this … whatever this is, with the flowers and the stares you’re giving me and you—and you expect me to be okay?”

He blinks at you.

“You’re so confusing Hoseok! Like God—first, you look at me with those eyes of yours and expect my heart not to flutter? Is that it? Do you just like embarrassing me like this? You stupid son of a motherfucking bitch—!”

He really needed to shut you up, and granted, it wasn’t the best way to do it. But there was something oddly endearing about the way you were yelling his ear off that he needed to just close the distance.

Hoseok grabs you by the waist with a firm hand on your cheek when he leans down to kiss you.

The kiss is explosive, both in pent up frustrations and longing all at once and you’re both confused and relieved when you feel the plush of his lips against your own. You forget what you were saying when he holds you like this—close.

Hoseok looked like a magnificent kisser—you theorised—and your hypothesis was proven with the way he’s gentle yet assertive with the way his body moulds against your own.

You whine when he pulls away, your hands clutching at the front of his dress shirt. Only when you see his flushed cheeks, and swollen lips do you remember what was happening.

“_____—”

You punch him in the stomach.

Hard.

He grunts, doubling over as you glare at him.

“Are you insane?” You shriek.

He wheezes, clutching at his abdomen.

“You could’ve just told me you didn’t like me!” He snaps, shooting you a venomous glare.

Your mouth falls open as you give him one of your own venomous stares.

“Are you stupid?” You throw your hands into the air, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I was trying to be romantic!” He grits out.

You huff, and you soften for a moment to see him still holding onto his stomach.

You quietly reach out to him, holding him by the elbow like you did something wrong (punching him in the stomach) and look up at him with apologetic eyes.

“Does it really hurt?” You meekly ask.

"No. I'm on the floor because it's comfortable," He deadpans.

You pout as you flush a pretty shade of red.

He’s about to retort when he sees how guilty you look, then he sighs; reaching an arm around your shoulder to bring you into an embrace against his chest.

“It’d hurt a lot more if you were rejecting me.”

You scoff, leaning your cheek against his chest when you feel the movement of his chest with his deep breaths.

“Why couldn’t you ask me out like a normal person?” You complain.

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re not a conventional person to ask out.”

You narrow your eyes at him, and he wants to kiss you again because you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

So he does.

This time, you’re not as shocked, but it’s still as pleasant as when he first kissed you. You lean into his embrace, taking the initiative to run your hands across his shoulders and into his hair.

“We could’ve been doing this way longer if you weren’t such an annoying brat.” He mumbles against your lips.

The moment is broken when he returns to his normal self, but your heart still remains.

“Me? Annoying? You know what’s annoying—the fact that I spent six hours on Valentine’s Day sorting through your stupid documents because you wanted to hold me, hostage, here—”

Hoseok purses his lips as you progress through your rant, but in all honesty, you looked like a little rabbit that was frustrated than anything else, and all he feels in endearment.

He lets you have your moment, though—because he likes you like this—honest, unforgiving and so irrevocably yourself.

“—like, romantic? Please, Hoseok—you have zero romantic bones in your body and I’m pretty sure you’re 100% annoying than human—”

He pouts when you resort to insulting him, and he reaches for your cheeks to squeeze them in his palms so you’d stop.

“Okay enough of that, my feelings are hurt.” He pouts, “But … I’ll let you off the hook cause you’re so cute.”

You glare at him, cheeks still squished together like a chipmunk.

“I hathe eberything avout you.” You say through a muffled breath.

He sighs.

He releases your cheeks and begins packing up the trash, and you’re confused at the way his touch suddenly disappears and disappointed because you weren’t close to him anymore.

“Hobi?” You meekly call out, and he swears his heart stutters at the nickname.

“Can you stop being cute for one second and let me clean up?” He groans, shoving the stray paper bags away into the dustbin below his desk.

You blush even harder, keening under the praise.

You twiddle with your thumbs, awkwardly hovering by his desk as you watch him. You’d try to help, but there was something so utterly domestic and … homey about the way that Hoseok tuts you off when you reach out to pick something up.

Once he’s satisfied (because as annoying as he was, you applauded him for his neatness), he throws his blazer over his shoulder effortlessly, and shuts all the lights off, saying nothing more besides walking to the door.

You eye him curiously, wondering why he hasn’t uttered a single word yet, but as you’re about to open your mouth, he turns around to look at you over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“Are you coming?”

You tilt your head to the side.

“W-Where?”

“With me,” He shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the wooden frame of his door as you feel your heartbeat grow faster at how effortlessly good he looks under the dim light.

“I think I owe you a belated Valentine’s Day celebration, no?”

Oh.

#bts fic #bts fics #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts jhope #bts hobi #bts hoseok #hoseok x reader #JHOPE x reader #hobi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok imagine #hoseok fic #hobi fluff #hobi imagine #jhope fluff #jhope imagine

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beskarhearts · 3 years

Note

A request maybe? 🥺 I was just thinking maybe the reader is shaving her legs (because she loves the way it feels) but the fresher on the Crest is probably waaaay to small and she may slip and cuts herself. Din would probably be so worried at first because protective!Din. But he’d be so gentle getting a little bacta on the cut and then probably really appreciate the smoothness 😂❤️

Smooth (Din Djarin x reader)

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word Count: 1645

Warnings: bleeding, accidental cut from razor (let me know if I missed any!)

Notes: protective!Din is one of the best Dins and I loved this! I hope enjoy this!

Anybody can request a blurb so feel free to send them in!

____________________________________

Even if you tried, you don’t think you could remember the last time you shaved your legs. It seemed like such a little, easy thing to do but in reality, life was much too hectic to do things even as minuscule as shaving. Either the kid needed attention, the Crest needed maintenance, you desperately needed nap, or one of the other thousand things that seemed to pile onto your life every day seemed to stop you from any form of self-care.

Except for tonight. Tonight everything seemed to fall in line. The child fell asleep early with no trouble, something that you can’t remember ever happening before. The Crest was good to go, no little or large task needing to be done. Din was sat on the floor of the hull, quietly polishing away his armor and seeming content with the relaxing silence that fell over the ship. You now had time to not only shower, but to relax and shave your legs and let the warm water soak into your skin.

So that led you to where you were now, in the fresher of the Crest. The hot water steamed up the whole room, making it almost difficult to see through it. But the heat didn’t bother you, but rather relaxed all your sore muscles and eased the tension in your body despite how it burned your skin just slightly. You stood in the center of the shower, though with how small it was you took up almost all the space provided. That was the only bad thing about the fresher, how confined it was and how little room it gave you to spread out or move or even bent your elbows without rubbing them against the wall or curtain of the fresher.

The size unfortunately also made shaving an incredibly difficult task. If you bent over, your head nearly slammed into the wall. You had no ledge or space to hike your leg up to shave it. And you could sit on the floor of the fresher and spread your legs out to get to them properly, but not easily. Due to this predicament you were faced with tonight, it led to you choosing perhaps one of the worst shaving positions one could think of.

The razor was held in your right hand, your legs foamy from the soap you had put on it, and you peered into the steam that engulfed the room to look at your left leg. All you needed to do was your calf and then you’d be done with this leg and onto the next. You slowly brought your leg up, hiking it until your foot met the wall of the shower. The position was rather awkward, with you stood at one edge of the fresher and your leg hiked up so it was pressed up against the slippery wall. You only had to bend down a little to get to your calf, having it at a very bizarre, somewhat ninety degree angle. You brought your left hand to hold your leg, thinking perhaps it would steady yourself even though it was slick with soap and water. The right hand that held the razor came down and started to shave away at the hair, and you nearly sighed in relief. This was nice.

You felt your right leg that remained planted on the floor of the fresher start to shake and in response, your hand slipped off the soapy skin of your left leg where you had the razor pressed down to shave away at the hair. You didn’t even have a moment to think as your whole body seemed to start to slip and slide, before it came crashing down in a rather ridiculous manner. You let out a small yelp as you crashed onto your bottom, your legs tangled up in a mess and your right hand dropping your razor to the ground. You blinked past the steam in the room and cursed when you saw a small cut on your leg where you had been shaving, a bit of blood starting to come out of it. At least you had just finished your left leg, you thought.

You didn’t even have time to curse the galaxy for interrupting your one moment of peace before you heard the door to the refresher slam open. You couldn’t see him with the curtain of the shower still somehow covering you, but you knew it was Din. “What happened, cyar’ika?” he shouted out, concern clearly lacing his words.

“I’m fine. I just fell.” You muttered out as you started to finally rise from your spot on the floor. You bent your head down to once again look at the cut on your leg that seemed to bleed more than necessary for a cut so small.

“Why did you fall?”

“Oh, I was just trying to shave my leg. I was in a dumb position and slipped and cut my leg and-“

“Wait, you cut yourself?”

You heard the worry in his voice, the way it seemed to hitch and become higher. “I am fine. It’s no big deal.” You let yourself back into the water, rinsing off the rest of the soap on your body, giving up on shaving both your legs completely.

“Does it hurt?” Din called out.

“Just stings.”

“Is it big?” You almost giggled at the way the nervous edge still remained with each word he spoke. It was endearing, the way he was worried and immediately snapped into protective Din mode.

“No, not really.” you responded, hoping he couldn’t hear the grin you wore on your face.

“Is it bleeding?”

You nodded even though Din couldn’t see you, turning the water off and reaching your hand out from around the curtain, trying to grab at your towel which was shoved into your hand by Din. “Yeah. Quite a bit too which is weird cause it’s such a small cut.”

“Get wrapped up and then come out here. I am going to get the bacta and a bandage.” Din said and before you had the chance to protest, his boots stomped off towards the hull. He always did this. It could be the smallest thing but he would always insist on taking care of you, fixing it. You think it was one of the ways he felt some control and was able to feel like he did something good. Or maybe it was just because of how protective he was, needing to be the one to watch over his clan and make sure no harm came to them.

You quickly slipped into the shirt and shorts you had tucked away for your pajamas, pulling your hair into the towel as you finally made your way into the hull. Some blood still trickled down your leg as Din looked up at you, his vision going straight to your leg. You couldn’t see his face but knew he was studying it, trying to decipher whether or not you were downplaying your wound. Din was sat on the floor of the hull with some bacta cream and a bandage as promised, patting a pad on the floor he put down for you to sit on.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips as you smiled at him, bringing yourself down on the floor and stretching your leg out for him. “You need to worry less, Din.”

“You need to hurt yourself less.” Din muttered, bringing a cloth to your leg to wipe at the small amount of blood there. “What were you doing again?”

“Trying to shave my leg. But the fresher is too small.” You complained.

“Don’t shave your legs then.” Din said plainly and you sighed as he brought the rag down and began to take off his gloves so he could rub some bacta on the wound.

“But it feels so smooth and nice. And then I can rub them.”

“Rub your own leg?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at his sarcasm. “Oh, don’t knock it till you try it.”

Din gave you a small nod and you heard a chuckle pass through his modulator as his finger finally started to rub the bacta into it. Though the cut truly hadn’t hurt much, you still felt a tingly smoothness on the area he was applying it to. But even better than the cream was Dins left hand rubbing the bacta in and his right one reaching out to grab at your leg to hold it.

He continued to rub it in when you felt a small movement of his right hand. You looked down and felt your eyebrow quirk up as his hand moved a little more, rubbing at the now newly shaven skin. He continued to do so, just slightly, even letting his hand continue to rub as his left one grabbed a bandage. “Feels nice, huh?” You meant to tease him but it came out more genuine as you smiled at him.

Din didn’t respond for a few moments as he placed the bandage but once he finished, his left hand took a position on your leg as it joined his right one in feeling the silky skin. “It’s smooth.” He said slowly.

You nodded and hummed as he continued to softly feel it, the feeling of his bare hand making contact with your skin making you go wild even though it wasn’t the first time it had happened. “Yeah. I didn’t get to shave the other one though. So now I look all weird.”

“I’ll shave your other leg for you.” Din offered and you smiled.

��Why do I have a feeling you only offered that because you like the feeling?” You teased and Din finally looked up at you.

“Does it matter why?”

You let out a small chuckle. “I suppose not.”

“Well then let’s shave your other leg.”

#request #din djarin blurb #the mandalorian blurb #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x gn!reader #mandalorian fanfiction #star wars blurb #din djarin fanfiction

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stressisakiller · 3 years

Text

As You Wish

Steve Rogers x Reader Soulmate AU

(As you wish Part 2)

Summary: What happens when after moving into Stark Tower you run into a certain Captain

Warnings: None really, fluff, like one cussword a little bit of spice

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Fluffy chapter yay! Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

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Life working side by side with Tony was dangerous. When Killian attacked Tony it was you not Pepper who was taken and subjected to the Extremis serum. This caused you to heal crazy fast and gave you super strength, which was pretty cool but not very useful for someone who spent most of their time in a robotics lab trying not to crush something when it wasn't working.

You later discovered that Killian mistakenly believed that you were in fact Tony's soulmate, while you had always thought that it was Pepper. She quickly refuted your claim when you told her, pulling the back of her jeans down enough to show the smiley face that graced her butt cheek. Turns out that her soulmate was none other than Happy the head of security.

About six months after the battle of new york, after Tony and the whole Killian/Mandarin situation, Tony asked very nicely if you would move into the Avengers tower with him. He needed to get the Avengers tower going, and after everything that happened and his panic attacks, he really didn't want to live there alone. He was also hoping that if you lived in the tower that the avengers would be more willing to as well. By this point you had met and become friends with most of them save for Captain America, he hasn’t been around much. He was trying to find his place in this new world and taking as many missions as Shield will give him in order to feel needed

The tower was much different this time than the last time you had been there. There was less plastic film and dust everywhere and all of the construction work was done. Most notably, the wall on Stark's living room floor was no longer a gaping hole.

The top eight levels of the tower were for the avengers. The penthouse was where Tony stayed, no surprise there. The level directly below was his lab space which was restricted access for the most part and then there was the common level under that. The common level was composed of a large kitchen and dining area, as well as a massive living room with the biggest tv you had ever seen. This floor also houses a theater, and an arcade room equipped with pool tables and any other game you could think of. Tony is such a child sometimes, not that you were complaining you loved to play pool. The next three floors are where you and the rest of the Avengers would live. You would each get your own suite that you could arrange and decorate however you saw fit. Each suite includes a kitchenette, and small living room that was separate from the bedroom, and a massive ensuite bath. The lowest two levels were dedicated to the training room and medical ward, as well as a giant pool and sauna area, these floors allowed for outside access as long as they were vetted.

Six months later, life in the tower was going well. You, Tony and Bruce, were the main people living there. You could understand that though, Nat and Clint were constantly out on missions for shield and mainly stayed on base in DC. Tony told you that Steve was currently living in an apartment in DC. He didn't want to live on base but he was running missions for Shield on and off. Thor was off-world with Loki so life was pretty quiet.

Then there was a mission that the Captain went on that didn’t go the way he thought. He was wounded and brought back a captive. You were in the common area when the door was thrown open and a bloody Steve Rogers burst through carrying a soaking wet girl over his shoulder.

“The Medical wing, where is it?” He questioned voice hard from pain or fatigue or both.

“This way.” you hurried off, not looking behind you, you knew that he would follow.

When you arrived, you called for Dr. Cho and Steve told her what was going on and placed the girl on a stretcher. The nurses pushed her to a room to monitor her until she woke up. He was then shown to a separate room to be looked over and have the bullet removed.

That night Tony pulled you into the living room to watch your favorite movie, the princess bride. It was about halfway through when an exhausted Steve came through the door and flopped down on the couch beside the one that you and Tony were currently lounging on. It was coming to your favorite part, Buttercup was currently yelling at the Dread Pirate Roberts and about to push him down the hill.

“Oooh,” you said hitting Tony’s shoulder, “I love this part,” you spoke along with Wesley as he rolled down the hill, “As you Wiiiisssshhhh.” you clapped your hands together, “that will forever be the best reveal ever.”

You didn’t notice Steve’s stare as you said those words. Holy Shit he thought his tattoo finally made sense, and yet the girl that fate said was perfect for him had her legs thrown over Tony’s lap and was leaning against him while watching the movie. He stood quickly and stomped out of the room, today was just not his day.

You look over at Tony confused when Steve left.

“What the hell do you think that was about?” you asked, growing more confused as you noticed the smirk on Tony’s lips.

“Why are you smiling like that?” You had to stop yourself from slapping him when he started to laugh.

“What the hell, Stark, tell me what's going on?”

“I think that Capsicle just realized that you're his soulmate.” He said through chuckles.

“What the fuck do you mean he realized that I’m his soulmate?” you asked your whole body going still as you waited for him to elaborate.

“I thought you had realized this earlier,” he said looked genuinely confused, “The captain is your soulmate, I’ve known since we had that movie night after finding him in the ice. Your tattoo is his dog tags with the flower of his birth month and a phrase that I’ve heard him say multiple times while next to him in a fight.”

You just sat there frozen trying to comprehend what exactly the man sitting in front of you was saying.

“You know, he may be a little jealous that his soulmate was cuddling someone else since he probably doesn’t realize that you're like a sister to me. You should probably go after him.” His words seemed to break you from your trance as you threw yourself very clumsily from the couch to follow after him.

“Jarvis, where did Rogers go?”

“He is in the training room miss.”

“Thanks, J”

You ran all the way down, opening the door you were met by the scene of Steve hitting a punching bag so hard that it broke and flew off of its chain.

“You know, I’m not sure that those are made to withstand the punch of a super soldier, maybe I should design one that can,” you said leaning against the wall and trying not to show the fact that your heart was beating a million miles a minute.

“And why would you feel the need to do that, I’m sure Stark has plenty of things that he needs you to design that are more important than a Steve-proof punching bag.” You could tell that he was gritting his teeth as he spoke, reaching for another bag. You step towards him slowly, making sure not to walk too quickly from fear of him leaving.

“Well I’m sure that the great Tony Stark can take care of himself, and anyways, I think creating something to make my soulmate's life easier is more important.”

He slowly pulled his eyes from the punching bag that he was hanging onto the hook to look at you, pain obvious in his eyes.

“Really? Cause you seemed pretty comfortable with him.” you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he spoke, he had gone through so much already.

“Yes really, Tony is more like an annoying older brother than anything. I’ve been working around him for the past five or so years, trust me when I say that I have no desire to date him. You on the other hand.” You made sure that your voice turned teasing on the last words, you wanted to make him smile, you hadn’t gotten to see that yet.

“Well good, cause I think I may have to kick his ass if you did.” You could hear the teasing lilt in his voice and the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. But as quickly as it came it was gone.

“How long have you known?” his voice cracked a little as he spoke. You let out a small huff of a laugh.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Tony had to tell me when I was confused as to why you left the room?” His eyes snapped to yours.

“Really? You didn’t know?”

“After not meeting my soulmate by the time I turned 25 I just pushed it to the back of my mind, I stopped trying to figure out what my tattoo meant and I focused on my work. Plus there were a couple of life-threatening instances that distracted me." You joked. You weren't 100% sure how to handle this situation, your main friend group consisted of a playboy philanthropist and a science nerd that turned into a giant green guy when angry, not really the best people to show you how to be vulnerable.

“I understand that," he said pausing before continuing, "part of my problem was that my tattoo didn’t show up until after I came out of the ice.” he looked down at his hands and you noticed that they were fidgeting, he must be just as nervous as you.

“I didn’t know that,” you murmured, deciding to ask the question that was begging to be asked.

“What is your tattoo, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He shook his head, “Not at all.” he stepped towards you and pulled up his sleeve, and turned out his arm so you could see the flesh just under his armpit. As soon as you saw the tattoo you burst out laughing.

“Of course that’s what my mark is, man I’m such a nerd.” You clutched your stomach as you laughed, tears coming to your eyes from the range of emotions that you are currently going through.

“Can I ask why I have this tattooed on me?” He questioned, clearly curious to the reasoning as to why he had a movie quote on his arm forever. You were finally able to pull yourself together and sober up from the surprise of his tattoo.

“That movie came out the year after I was born and it was my mom’s favorite movie to watch with me, we watched it at least 4 times a year. But we always made sure to watch it on my birthday as a family, it became an integral part of my life, plus it’s just sooo quotable.” you said with a smile, “Do you want to look at my tattoo?” you asked motioning at your arm with your head. He slowly nodded, not able to find the words.

You slowly pulled your sleeve up, showing him the inside of your forearm and the dog tags that graced your skin. He stepped forward gently taking your arm in his hand so that he could study the markings on your skin. Tracing the outline and the words that he could see before smiling.

“What does it mean?” you asked softly looking at him through your lashes.

“It’s um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s my dog tags or at least the lower one is, it says my name, then Captain America and the city I was born in, Brooklyn. The top one however is something that I always seem to say when I’m getting beat up in a fight in order to remind myself that I could do it. And the flower… I think it’s the flower from my birth month? I was born in July so I think it’s a reference to that.” You nodded at his explanation, his fingers still gently tracing over your skin, causing goosebumps to pop up from the feeling.

“So, would you like to watch the movie with me? We can start it over so that you won’t be lost. I know that you struggle with pop culture, old man.” You smirked at him as you spoke, he just rolled his eyes.

“Be careful, this old man could still show you a thing or two.”

You laughed out loud at that, your laugh changed to a squeal when you felt him wrap his arms around your legs and throw you over his shoulder.

“Ahh, let me down!!” you beat at his shoulders trying to get him to release you but he wouldn’t budge, he just continued to carry you until you ended back in the living room and he threw you down onto the couch. He wasn’t even breathing hard after carrying you up 2 flights of stairs, jerk.

Tony was nowhere to been seen as you restarted the movie. You ran and grabbed some more popcorn to share, pouring in some M&Ms before plopping back down next to Steve and pulling on your couch blanket. It didn't take long for you to cuddle into his side and for your eyes to droop.

Steve smiled at you when he realized that you had passed out before you even got to the part he had walked in on earlier. He didn't mind though, he just got comfortable and pulled you in closer before allowing himself to relax and fall asleep.

Tagged Users: @writerwrites

#steve x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #soulmate #soulmate au #soulmate tattoo #captain america imagine #captain america #captain america x reader

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

The divorced fic was so cute i want to scream. Does Obi have any time to be sad or are Anakin and his little demons always there to distract him from his infinite sadness

so i know most everyone wants to know what anakin does about The Kiss but here's a bit of light hearted angst a year before that (because humanity is inherently whatever but i am inherently evil)

aka

the immediate aftermath of the Router Incident (1.4k)

The night of the day of what will come to be known as The Router Incident starts off with a bang.

Obi-Wan gets home a bit later than normal. Not because his work drags on longer than usual, but because he is, on the subject of all things even passably related to his personal life, a coward.

It’s been at least ten hours since he left the house with the goddamn wifi router tucked under his arm because Anakin had said something about finding a new place.

As if this isn’t the twenty-first century. As if Anakin doesn’t have a phone with unlimited data. As if Anakin isn’t the sort of person to walk five miles to the nearest coffeeshop with his kids in their stroller, just to use their wifi to email Obi-Wan a series of italicized question marks.

Obi-Wan’s been practicing his apology ever since he got that email. I’m really sorry, I promise I’m not a controlling megalomaniac. I just panicked because I’m not that good at letting go of things. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently I only know how to dig my heels in whenever I think people are starting to pull away. Apologies again, life is not a game of tug-of-war, and I promise I do know that.

He practices his apology, of course, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also try to put it off until the last possible moment. When he leaves the building, his car is the only one still in the lot.

I’m really sorry. Here’s the router back. I support your decision. Your kids will be great. I know you probably won’t let them see me, because that’s a bit weird if we don’t all live together, and you also don’t use social media, which is great because I also don’t use social media, but I would have made a Facebook account just to keep up with your family. It’s meant more than I can say to have something to come home to this past year, and I understand that you can’t put your life on hold for a lonely old man like me, and I will endeavor from now on to not impede your search for a new place to live.

No, too needy, he thinks at a red light, dragging his hand over his beard in defeat. He won’t beg Anakin to stay.

He would very much like to beg Anakin to stay, but he hadn’t even begged Satine to stay, and he had been in love with her.

He just enjoys Anakin’s company. His presence. Unwinding next to Anakin after a difficult day teaching is one of the things he looks forward to the most.

And this past holiday season, they’d had a big dinner at his house, filled to the brim with Anakin’s friends and his friends and some people from the local grocery store they’d met when out shopping together, and it had been so loud and so amazing. Nothing had been left untouched, there had been food on the ceiling (Obi-Wan suspects Leia to this day, but Luke had confessed), there had been leftovers for days.

You can’t just give me holidays like that and then take them away, Obi-Wan thinks angrily as he turns into his neighborhood. What will I do next winter, then?

He has to sit in his car for a second after parking, just to calm down. He’s the one in the wrong, he reminds himself. Anakin has all the right in the world to want to leave. It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sound of children screaming and crying.

Luke rushes at him and jumps on him with enough force that he reels backwards, almost out of the house. He drops his bag on the floor in order to steady the child.

Luke is bawling his head off right next to Obi-Wan’s ear so it’s very, very difficult to hear what a red-faced Anakin is trying to say.

And then Leia runs up to him, tugs at his free hand until he looks down at her, and then stomps her little foot with a scowl. “I hate you!” she declares just as loudly as Luke is crying, before her tiny face breaks into tears and she runs off.

“Oh, for the love of--” Anakin shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and chasing after his daughter.

Obi-Wan, ridiculously hurt beyond measure and without a clue about what’s happening, goes to sit down on the couch, still gently cradling Luke’s body to his as the boy continues to weep.

“Hush,” he says soothingly. “And, ah. Please tell me what’s gotten into the Skywalkers now.”

Luke only sniffles and rubs his snotty nose all over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Well. It’s laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“Daddy says you hate us,” Luke mumbles, just as Anakin comes back into the living room, notably sans Leia.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open in shock. “Daddy says what?” he asks, very slowly, making dangerous eye contact with Anakin over the top of Luke’s blond head.

Anakin flushes an even darker shade of red and looks around the room, as if that’ll save him.

“Daddy says we gotta go because this is your house and we don’t wanna stay over our, um. Welcome. We can’t reproach on your space, which means you hate us.”

“Encroach,” Anakin corrects, which Obi-Wan does not think is the thing that really needs to be corrected. When he tries to communicate this with his eyes, Anakin gulps and says quite quickly, “I’m gonna go check on Leia actually.”

Coward.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Your daddy is just being very, very dumb, a trait I pray with all my heart skips a generation.”

Luke blinks at him, his little eyebrows furrowed and his button nose bright red from all of his crying.

“I don’t hate you at all,” Obi-Wan says. “I love both you and your sister very much.”

“Then why do we gotta leave?” Luke complains. “I don’t want to go, we could never play Space Pirates and Lava Dragons at the old place, it was way too small.”

Obi-Wan thinks privately that his house, while certainly big enough, is by no means the proper size for how rambunctious the twins get when they’re playing Space Pirates and Lava Dragons.

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums consideringly. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?” Luke asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I really don’t. But it’s not my decision to make, Luke.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Luke concludes, head hanging low. “And Daddy wants to go.”

Obi-Wan ignores the way that sentence drives what feels like a knife straight through his heart. “Yes, well,” he coughs. “Your daddy won’t do anything he knows you and your sister really don’t want.”

Luke looks contemplative. Obi-Wan wonders if he should feel really bad or downright awful for manipulating a child in this way. But needs must.

“And he won’t listen to me,” he continues gently, smoothing down the front ends of the boy’s soft hair. “Because your daddy can be very stubborn when he thinks he’s doing something right.”

“He’ll listen to me and Leia though?” Luke asks, head cocked and eyes bright.

Obi-Wan nods very seriously. “I think he would if you both asked very nicely and thought about a lot of good reasons why you should stay here.”

“I can think of loads! And Leia can think of a ton more probably!” Luke exclaims with renewed energy, launching himself off of Obi-Wan’s lap and up the stairs, ostensibly to their shared bedroom.

Obi-Wan leans back against the couch, equal parts amused, exhausted, and hurt. He’ll need to have a serious talk with Anakin soon. He’d thought the man knew that his home was his as well. Yes, Anakin still paid rent, an unfortunate but necessary sort of system, but they’ve never been normal roommates. And Anakin isn’t a guest who could overstay his welcome.

He’s. Well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly what Anakin is to him, but he had hoped it was obvious to Anakin at least that Obi-Wan would not ever grow tired of his presence in his life.

So they do have some things to talk about.

But hopefully this means that Obi-Wan won’t actually have to apologize for the router incident, seeing as Anakin’s fuck-up caused much larger waves.

#you want me to think my five year olds know how to create an APA styled bibliography #Obi-Wan???#asks #the kids put together a powerpoint of Reasons They Have To Stay #some of it is obviously written by the kids #other bullet points are things like about school zones and bus routes and neighborhood safety #even if obi-wan refuses to admit he helped them with it #anakin side eyes him the entire time #ESPECIALLY when theres a bibliography as the last slide #and obi-wan is just fake proud #wiping away a tear #'i guess all those games of professor and student really paid off'#KUWSK

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bechloeislegit · 3 years

Text

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl - Chapter 1

A/N: First, I'd like to say Happy (Belated) Birthday, malexfaith (the actual day was April 14)! Second, I asked for an idea for a fic for her birthday, and this is one idea she sent me. It was originally going to be a one-shot, but it got away from me. (I hope y'all like it).

Award-winning singer Beca Mitchell has had a rough few months. Her bosses force her to take some time off to get herself together. They send her to a ranch where she meets Chloe Beale. They knew each other when they were children; can they be friends again or will a different kind of relationship develop?

Award-winning singer/songwriter Beca Mitchell stood in front of her two best friends, Stacie Conrad and Cynthia Rose (CR) Adams. The two women currently standing before Beca weren't just her friends; they worked for her. Stacie was her manager, and CR was her publicist.

"I'm not going!" Beca yelled at the two women, stomping her foot like a child.

"You have no choice!" Stacie yelled back. "Do I need to remind you why we are having this discussion in the first place?"

Three Days Earlier. . .

Beca hit the final note, and the crowd started cheering and applauding. Beca smiled out at the crowd as she waved and made her way off the stage.

"Beca! Beca! Beca!" The crowd chanted.

"Encore time, Beca," Stacie said.

"I need some water first," Beca said, trying to catch her breath.

"Here," Cynthia Rose said, handing Beca a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Beca said, chugging down half the bottle.

Beca wiped her face and ran back onto the stage. The band started playing, and the crowd started cheering.

Beca started singing and made her way over to the band. The bass player played a riff, and Beca was getting into it when she suddenly stopped and put a hand to her head. A loud "oh" went up from the crowd as Beca started to fall; the bass player grabbed Beca and eased her down to the ground. Several people came running from backstage.

CR yelled for someone to call 9-1-1 as Stacie hit her knees and grabbed Beca to her.

"Beca?" Stacie called her name as she lightly smacked her cheeks.

Beca did not respond, and Stacie yelled, "Someone call 9-1-1!"

"Already done," CR said as Stacie continued trying to rouse Beca.

An announcement was made asking that everyone leave the building in a calm and peaceful manner. The place emptied out for the most part; there were still a few who made their way close to the stage and stood watching what was happening. Security prevented them from getting onto the stage.

Beca came around about five minutes later, and a small cheer went up from the small crowd. They became quiet again when two EMTs arrived and made their way onto the stage, immediately going over to Beca.

"Want to tell me what happened?" one of the EMTs asked as he started to take Beca's vital signs.

"I'm not really sure," Beca said. "I was singing, and then I felt dizzy. Next thing I know, I'm waking up to this one," she points her thumb toward Stacie, "slapping my face."

"You passed out," Stacie said. "I was trying to wake you up."

"We should take her in so a doctor can check her out," the EMT told Stacie.

"I'll ride with her," Stacie said. "CR, you call Theo and let him know what's happened."

"Got it," CR said.

"I don't think I need to go to the hospital," Beca said.

"I don't care what you think you need, Beca," Stacie said, shaking her head. "I just knew something like this was going to happen."

The EMTs helped Beca up and onto the gurney. They proceeded to fasten the restraints to hold Beca securely. Stacie followed the EMTs out to the ambulance; Beca complained the entire way about not needing to go to the hospital.

"Shut up, Beca," Stacie said. She looked at the EMT and asked, "Is there any way you can knock her out again?"

"I heard that," Beca said.

"You were meant to," Stacie shot back.

Back to the present. . .

"You passed out because you were drunk and dehydrated," Stacie said.

"I didn't do anything!" Beca said, running a hand through her hair.

"Didn't do anything!" Stacie repeated. "Are you drunk right now?"

"Stacie, calm down," CR said. "Yelling at her is not helping anything."

"She is going to ruin us all," Stacie said. "I can't keep doing this with her. We're running out of favors to call in to keep her shenanigans out of the tabloids."

"I know," CR placated. "She just needs to understand that the studio isn't playing around this time."

"This time?" Beca questioned. "What did I supposedly do to make this time so special?"

"Have you totally forgotten the drunken brawl you started?" Stacie asked. "And let's not forget about the threesome thing. You're lucky you're not in jail."

"For what?" Beca asked. "We were in a bar, and they were both being served alcoholic drinks."

"Yeah, well, one of them was only seventeen," Stacie said. "The age of consent in California is eighteen. And don't think because you're a woman, you get a pass. Her parents have every right to have you charged with having sex with a minor. You're lucky they were more upset that the bartender was serving their underage daughter alcohol, or it could have been so much worse for you."

"I can't be blamed for not knowing how old she really was," Beca mumbled.

Stacie rubbed her temples and looked at Beca. "You'd better get your head on straight, or you're done."

"I'm still not going to wherever it is the studio wants to send me," Beca said. "I'm an adult, and they can't make me do anything I don't want to do!"

"Take it easy, Beca," CR said in a calmer voice. "I'm telling you this as your friend. You're under contract, so yes, they can make you do whatever they want you to."

"Wanna bet?" Beca said petulantly. "Tell the studio I don't want to go."

"The studio folks aren't asking you if you want to go," CR said, stepping into Beca's personal space. "They're telling you, you have to go. You need to take some time off to rest and get your head back in the game."

"I don't understand why," Beca said, lowering her voice and taking a step back.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stacie yelled. "You literally passed out during the encore at your concert because you were drunk, Beca. You're exhausted, and you're making bad decisions; really bad decisions."

"Not to mention the fact that your daddy issues are becoming a PR nightmare," CR added. "I know you were hoping your dad came back it was to make amends . . ."

"I don't want to talk about him," Beca interrupted, crossing her arms and glaring at Stacie and CR.

"Okay, you don't want to talk about your dad; that's fine," CR said. "Let's talk about how the studio is considering canceling your contract and letting you go."

"What?!"

"CR's right," Stacie confirmed. "If you don't take time off, you're done. Fired. No more music. No more VIP treatment. No more one-night stands with your fans. No more making money. Are you ready for that?"

"And, if Khalid fires you," CR said. "Don't count on another studio wanting to sign you."

Beca ran a hand through her hair and stared at Stacie and CR. She let out a loud sigh.

"Fine, I'll go."

"Good," Stacie and CR said simultaneously.

"But. . ."

"But. . . what?" CR asked hesitantly.

"But," Beca said, smirking. "You two have to go with me."

"Not gonna happen," CR immediately stated. "Denise is due in two weeks, so I can't go."

"I'll accept that as a good reason for you not going," Beca said and then turned to look at Stacie. "What about you?"

"I don't want to go," Stacie said.

"If not wanting to go isn't a good enough reason for me not to go," Beca said. "It's not a good enough reason for you either. So, if I don't get a choice in the matter, you don't get a choice. Make sure you tell the studio honchos if you don't go, I don't go, and let's see what happens then."

Beca turned and left the room.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

A week later, Beca and Stacie were on a private jet heading to Denver, Colorado. Beca was sulking as Stacie calmly flipped through a magazine. Neither woman spoke, and they flew in relative silence for close to two hours before Beca broke that silence.

"I can't believe you caved with the studio and are making me do this," Beca huffed. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend," Stacie said, continuing to flip the pages of the magazine. "But, I'm also your manager. I love you, but I love my job more, and I'm not going to do anything to lose you or my job. So, if I have to go to Denver and babysit you, then that's what I'm going to do."

"Why exactly were we going to Denver?" Beca asked. "Is it like a spa retreat or something?"

"Nope," Stacie said, setting her magazine aside while pulling something out of her bag. She held it out toward Beca. "We're going to be spending the next three weeks at a western-style dude ranch."

"A DUDE RANCH?" Beca screeched, causing Stacie to grimace. "Whose bright idea was that?"

"Theo's," Stacie replied with a shrug.

"I should have known," Beca snarled. "That guy never did like me." Beca sighed and asked, "What the fuck am I supposed to do there?"

"You're supposed to rest and relax," Stacie said. "And they run a dry ranch, so there won't be any booze to get you into trouble."

Beca scoffed, and Stacie handed a pamphlet over to Beca.

"Read the brochure if you want to know what you'll be doing," Stacie said.

Beca took the brochure and looked through it.

"The only form of transportation on the ranch is on horseback," Beca read aloud. "The only horses I want to deal with are the ones under a car's hood."

"What part of the only form of transportation is on horseback are you not understanding?" Stacie asked. "Get it through that thick skull of yours; there are no cars, trucks, or other motorized vehicles. Just horses. I'm personally looking forward to riding again."

"Good for you! But there's no way I'm riding one of those beasts," Beca grumbled. "I hate horses."

"Just give it a shot, Beca," Stacie said. "Horses will help calm you; you're supposed to try and relax. And, you could always save a horse and ride a cowboy instead. Or in your case, a cowgirl. But only if she's over eighteen."

"Haha," Beca scoffed. "I get ridden plenty, thank you very much."

"Groupies and one-night stands don't count," Stacie said. "You need to find someone to have an adult, meaningful relationship with."

"Says the woman who calls her vagina a hunter," Beca snorted. "When was the last time you had an adult meaningful relationship?"

"We're not talking about me," Stacie said. "Plus, I'm not under contract, so what I do is nobody's business but my own."

"I'm starting to regret signing a contract," Beca said. "Almost as much as I regret hiring a friend to be my manager."

Stacie shrugged and picked up another magazine. "You know you love me."

"We both know I do," Beca said, sighing. "But would it kill you to let me live my life the way I want to?"

"Probably not," Stacie shrugged. "But, it might kill you and I'm not willing to take that chance. Believe it or not, I actually do like having you around."

Beca was saved from responding as the Captain announced, "Ladies, please fasten your seatbelts. We're making our final approach into Denver and should be landing in about ten minutes."

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

A van from the ranch was waiting in the hangar when the jet came to a stop. The pilot opened the door and lowered the stairway. Stacie stepped out first to find a man looking, every bit the cowboy in blue jeans, checkered shirt, boots, and hat, staring up at her from the bottom.

"Miss Mitchell?" the cowboy asked, tipping his hat.

"That's her," Stacie replied and pointed over her shoulder.

Beca gave a small wave over Stacie's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, ladies," the cowboy said. "My name is Tom and I'll be escorting you to the ranch. I'll get your bags while you make yourselves comfortable in the van."

Stacie got into the van and watched as Beca grabbed two of the bags and placed them in the van herself. Tom grabbed the remaining bags and placed them in the back. Tom opened the driver's door, removed his hat, and situated himself behind the wheel.

"The drive will take about forty-five minutes," Tom said, looking over his shoulder at the two women. "There's water in the cooler behind you. Help yourself."

Tom turned to face the front and started the van.

About an hour later, the van turned off the main road onto a dirt road. Beca sat up and started looking around. Off in the distance, she saw several buildings.

"Looks like something from an old Western movie," Beca said.

"I love the log cabin look," Stacie said, looking around.

"Will we be staying in a log cabin?" Beca asked Tom.

"Sort of," Tom said. "All our guests stay in individual one-room cabins. The main building houses the offices, gym, game room, kitchen, and dining room. Since this is our slow time, you'll both probably be given your own room."

"That actually sounds cool," Beca said.

Stacie lowered her window, saying "Look at all this wide-open space. And smell that clean, fresh air. We're definitely not in LA anymore."

"If I click my heels three times and say there's no place like home," Beca said. "Will I wake up from this nightmare and find myself in my own bed back in LA?"

"No," Stacie said. "And I can't believe Miss I Hate Movies, just used one to make a point."

Beca let out a snort and looked out her window.

"Those things are huge," Beca said, spying two horses being ridden by a man and a woman; they looked as if they were racing.

"Oh, wow," Stacie said, leering at the couple. "The scenery just keeps getting better."

The woman's hat flew off and red hair flew out behind her. Both riders stopped and the woman said something to the man that could not be heard in the car.

Beca's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the redhead's face as she turned and trotted back to where her hat landed. She was gorgeous.

"If she can ride a horse," Beca said, pointing at the female rider. "I may just have to take up riding myself. She makes it look hot."

"She's really pretty," Stacie said, looking the girl up and down.

"She sure is," Beca mumbled. "She kind of reminds me of someone I knew when I was a kid."

Beca and Stacie continued to watch the two riders.

"He's also really hot," Stacie said. "He can park his boots under my bed anytime."

"Ew, gross," Beca said. "Try and keep it in your pants, Stacie."

"I will if you will," Stacie said, laughing. "Who does the hot redhead remind you of?"

"Someone I knew from back when I lived in Atlanta," Beca responded. "We actually met in Kindergarten and became fast friends. I'd say she was my best friend from the time we met up until we were nine."

"What happened when you were nine?"

"Didn't I already tell you about that?" Beca asked; Stacie shook her head. Beca continued. "My grandmother got sick and my mom took me with her to Seattle to help her out. I was only supposed to be gone for the summer. But, my grandma died and left my mother her house. My mom and dad were going through a rough time and my mom decided to stay in Seattle and asked my dad to come there. He chose to stay in Atlanta and promised to come to visit, but he never did. They eventually divorced."

Stacie looked at Tom and asked, "Who are they?"

"That's Chicago and Chloe," Tom said, glancing over at the couple. "Chicago's dad owns this place and Chicago runs it. Chloe is a vet and takes care of the animals on the ranch."

"Chloe?" Beca repeated. "What's her last name?"

"Beale," Tom said as the van came to a stop in front of the main building.

"Oh, my God," Beca whispered as she continued watching the redhead. "I do know her! Or rather, I did."

"Are Chicago and Chloe a couple?" Stacie asked.

"God, no," Tom said, chuckling. "Chicago is married to Jessica and Chloe is his cousin."

"Good to know," Stacie murmured, looking at Beca watching the redhead.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Beca and Stacie stood next to each other and watched as Chicago and Chloe rode up to them and hopped off their horses. A woman walked out of the main building and stood next to Chicago. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Good afternoon, Miss Mitchell, Miss Conrad," Chicago said, removing his hat. "Welcome! My name is Chicago Walp and this is my wife, Jessica. We run this Ranch for my dad, so if you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask either one of us."

Chloe cleared her throat and Chicago smiled over at her.

"Sorry, Chlo," Chicago said, chuckling. "And this lovely young lady is Dr. Chloe Beale. She takes care of all the animals. She also gives riding lessons for anyone who wishes to learn."

"Please, we're just Beca and Stacie," Stacie said.

"I know who Beca is," Chloe said, smiling. "I was totes excited when I heard you were going to be a guest. I'm a big fan."

"Thank you," Beca said, looking down at the ground.

Tom was retrieving the luggage from the van and Chicago moved to help him.

"Please be careful with those two bags," Beca said, rushing over to them. "I'll take them."

Beca put one of the bags over her shoulder and pulled the other over to where Stacie was talking to Jessica and Chloe.

". . .said she'd love to learn to ride," Stacie was telling Jessica and Chloe.

"Who said that?" Beca asked. "It wasn't me. I hate horses; they're just huge, scary beasts."

Jessica and Chloe both laughed.

"Didn't you also say, if Chloe was riding that you might have to reconsider riding because she made riding a horse look hot?" Stacie asked, chuckling when Beca's face turned red.

"That's not-," Beca stuttered, looking from Stacie to Chloe and back again. "I, uh, didn't, um. Ugh! I hate you so much right now."

"It's okay, Beca," Chloe said, chuckling. "I think you'd look hot riding, too. And our horses are very tame. I'd be happy to teach you to ride and show you how tame they are."

Beca blinked a few times and stared at Chloe. Chloe looked at Beca and then at Stacie.

"I'm sure Beca would love that," Stacie said, causing Beca to snort.

"I might be game," Beca said. "If Stacie takes lessons, too."

"I already know how to ride," Stacie said, smirking. "But I'll go along with you so you don't get scared."

"Good," Jessica said. "Now that's settled, let's get you to your rooms, shall we?"

"Ladies, if you'll follow us please," Chicago said as he and Tom walked past them.

Beca and Stacie followed. When they entered the main building, Tom grabbed a luggage cart and he and Chicago set the luggage on it. Beca gently placed the two bags she was carrying onto the pile and stepped back.

"Let's get you checked in," Jessica said, leading the way over to the registration desk. "Thanks, Tom, Chicago."

"No problem, babe," Chicago said, shooting Jessica a smile.

"You're welcome," Tom said. He tipped his hat at Beca and Stacie, and said, "Enjoy your stay, ladies."

"Thanks, Tom," Stacie said, winking at him.

Tom smiled at her before turning and exiting the building behind Chicago. Chloe walked over and stood by the desk; she couldn't stop looking at Beca. Beca looked back at her, blushing and looking away when Chloe smiled at her.

Jessica got Beca and Stacie checked in and grabbed their room keys, handing them to Chloe.

"Chloe, would you like to show Beca and Stacie to their cabins?"

"I'd love to," Chloe said excitedly, grabbing the keys. "Thanks, Jess."

Jessica winked at her and Chloe walked over to the luggage cart. She looked back at Beca and Stacie.

"If you ladies will follow me," Chloe said as she started pushing the cart.

Stacie nudged Beca's shoulder when she noticed Beca looking at Chloe's ass.

"Rein it in, Beca," Stacie whispered. "A bit of discretion wouldn't kill you."

Beca blushed and moved her eyes up to stare at the back of Chloe's head.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Chloe took the cart outside and started toward a row of cabins. The path was wooden and stretched from the main building around to all the cabins. Chloe stopped at Cabin #4 and unlocked the door. She left the luggage cart outside and stepped through the doorway. Beca and Stacie followed her inside.

"This is your cabin, Miss Mitchell," Chloe said, waving an arm around the room. "Your bathroom is through that door over there."

Beca looked to where Chloe was pointing and nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Please call me Beca," Beca told Chloe as she looked around the room.

"Okay," Chloe said, stepping back out the door. "Beca, if you'll point out your luggage I'll bring it in for you."

Chloe reached for a bag and Beca stopped her, saying, "I got it."

Beca grabbed her laptop case and another case, and took her cases over to the desk, and started to unpack them.

"No offense," Stacie told Chloe. "She's just very particular about people touching her equipment."

"Understandable," Chloe said. "I'm sure it's very expensive. What else is hers?"

"I'll help you with them," Stacie said. "This one stays here and that one there." Stacie grabbed one of the suitcases and pointed at the other.

The bags were placed near the bed and Chloe walked over to the wall, getting both Beca and Stacie's attention. She placed her hand on the thermostat and explained, "Each cabin has its own thermostat. You can control both the heat and air conditioning to your liking. It's usually mild during the day, but the temperatures drop somewhat at night. If you need an extra blanket or pillow, you can find them in the closet next to the bathroom. That's also where we keep everything you'll need for the bathroom, like towels and soap, among other things. If there's something you need and can't find, just pick up the phone and dial star zero one. That rings at the front desk in the main cabin. Someone is always there 24/7. Or you can dial star zero three and reach me; I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have."

"Thank you, Chloe," Beca said.

"Stacie," Chloe said, tearing her gaze away from Beca to look at Stacie. "You'll be right next door in cabin #5. The rooms are set up in the exact same way. Do you have any questions? Or need anything?"

"I'm starting to get a bit hungry," Stacie said. "What time does dinner start being served?"

"Oh," Chloe said as she walked over to the desk and pulled a folder out of the drawer. "There's a weekly schedule of activities and a menu for all meals inside this folder. It's updated every Sunday night. I know tonight we're having a barbecue with all the fixin's. You'll get a chance to meet some of the staff as well as the other guests." She glanced at her watch. "Aubrey will probably be ringing the dinner bell shortly."

"Who's Aubrey?" Stacie asked.

"She's my best friend," Chloe responded. "She's also the cook. You'll love everything she makes; I know I do."

"I'd like to unpack before dinner," Stacie said. "Beca, I'll swing by and get you when the dinner bell sounds. Okay?"

"Okay," Beca said. "I'll unpack and freshen up a bit."

"Great," Chloe said. "Here's your room key. We have a master key to all the rooms if you should lose or misplace it."

"Thanks again, Chloe," Beca said, taking the key.

"Stacie," Chloe said, turning toward her. "Let's get you to your room."

Stacie followed Chloe out the door. She took a deep breath. "Something smells good!"

"It's the meat from the grill."

"Whatever it is, it smells delicious."

"The meats are great, but it's the sides that make the meal for me. I'm sure Aubrey made potato salad, pasta salad, as well as a vegetable salad. Corn on the cob and baked beans for sure, and several desserts."

"Sounds like quite the feast," Stacie said.

Chloe pushed the luggage rack to the next cabin and helped Stacie take her bags inside.

"Here's your key," Chloe said as she handed the key to Stacie.

"Thank you, Chloe," Stacie said.

"You're welcome. I'll see you and Beca at dinner."

Chloe left and was surprised to see Beca looking out her door.

"Did you need something, Beca?"

"I was wondering if you had a minute?"

"Um, sure."

Beca stood aside and let Chloe enter the cabin. Chloe walked over to the desk chair and sat down.

Beca started pacing back and forth. Chloe watched her for a moment.

"So, um, what can I do for you, Beca?"

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

About ten minutes after Chloe left her, Stacie was startled by a sudden loud clanging sound. Realizing it must be the dinner bell, she laughed quietly to herself and shook her head.

It was only a few minutes later that Stacie grabbed her room key and left her cabin. Beca and Chloe were coming out of Beca's room as Stacie reached it.

"Oh, hey, Chloe," Stacie said, surprised to see her. "I wasn't expecting to see you with Beca."

"Beca wanted to know about the riding lessons," Chloe said. "You two have a lesson tomorrow morning at ten."

"We do?"

"I told you, Stacie," Beca said. "If I'm going to take lessons, so are you."

"And I told you, I already know how to ride," Stacie said. "Besides, will you even be up before ten?"

"Don't worry about me," Beca said, glaring at her. "I'll be up in plenty of time."

Stacie ignored Beca's glare and looked her up and down.

"Loving the cowgirl look, Beca," Stacie said. "I'm guessing you only brought your plaid shirts and jeans without knowing you'd end up on a ranch."

"I think she looks adorable," Chloe said, causing Beca's cheeks to redden.

"I'm not adorable," Beca mumbled.

"She does love her plaid shirts and jeans," Stacie said.

"What's wrong with that?" Beca asked. "They are good for any occasion."

Stacie snorted as she looked out over at the tables that were set up for the cookout.

"That looks like a lot of food," Stacie said. "How many guests do you have?"

"Including you and Beca, we have eight guests," Jessica's voice said from behind them. "And all the staffs' meals are provided. Come with me and I'll introduce you to some of the other people who work here."

Beca and Stacie followed Jessica and Chloe over to the huge grill that was being manned by two of the cowboys.

"Guys," Jessica calls out, getting their attention. "I'd like you to meet some VIPs that will be with us for the next three weeks."

The two men turned to look at Beca and Stacie. One had dark brown hair and was a couple of inches taller than Stacie; the other's hair was a lighter brown and he was about Stacie's height. They both have boyish faces and grinned at the two women.

"I know her," the taller of the two said, pointing toward Beca.

"No, you don't," Beca said, shaking her head. "He doesn't."

#bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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jayeray-hq · 3 years

Text

How He Shows You Affection: Miya Osamu

Hey guys, this one also really hurts to re-post, but I’m really hopeful that since the Kuroo one did so well, this one will too. It was my first request and from the amazing rice-hime too, which is probably the only reason it did so well, so big shout out to her for being amazing! Notes: 84

If you want to know why I’m re-posting check here

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Makes Time for You

You waited patiently at your table, quietly sipping your drink as you waited for the store to close. It was date night, so you’d dressed up in one of your cutest outfits and while you could’ve waited patiently at home for Osamu to come get you you’d decided to surprise him at work instead. The way his whole face had lit up when he spotted you and the appreciative look in his eyes as he spotted what you were wearing made it more than worth it.

You didn’t get to talk to him for long, the restaurant was too busy for that, only managing to exchange quick greetings, and affectionate brush of the hands before he was forced to move on to the next customer but it was more than enough to tide you over. After all in just a short while you’d be able to have him all to yourself, so it was more than enough.

More than one patron had wondered why Onigiri Miya closed early on Tuesdays. It was a strange day for such a thing after all. Most people thought it was a restocking thing, or a cleaning day, only those closest to you knew it was because your boyfriend had decided early on when he’d started his business that no matter how busy he got he was always going to set aside one evening a week that he could devote wholly to you. Thus the shop closed at four o’clock on Tuesdays and anyone who wanted to have their Onigiri had to come early or miss out.

He’d had more than a few complaints about it too, but he’d never cared about that at all, waving them off and telling anyone who complained that it was their own fault if they missed out. After all the store was open regular hours all the other days of the week, and even stayed open late on Fridays and Saturdays, so there was no point in whining about one day.

Once you’d tried to suggest that it might be okay if he didn’t, that you would be okay with him putting his restaurant first, as you knew it was his dream job, but he’d been very quick to shut that down. He’d insisted that yes, the restaurant was his dream, but you were part of his dream too, and part of his future and having time with you, just for you was important to him. You hadn’t been able to argue with him after that, and just gratefully accepted what he’d offered your heart full to the bursting for the incredibly man who had somehow fallen in love with you.

A few years in and most of the patrons were used to the Tuesday closures, and knew to come early, but there was still the occasional late comer, who refused to be budged, and it seemed tonight was one of those nights. He’d come in at four on the dot, pushing his way through the door and nearly knocking over the poor employee who’d been trying to shut and lock it, the open sign already flipped to closed, and hadn’t even apologized. Instead he’d marched right up to the counter and rattled off his order right into your boyfriend’s extremely unimpressed face.

“We’re closed,” Osamu informed the clearly self-important business man in a bored drawl. “The door says you close at four!” the man blustered clearly angry.

“And by my count it’s now exactly,” he paused for a minute to check the watch you’d given him for your last anniversary that he wore faithfully every day, “4:01 sir, which means we’re closed.”

“Well that’s a ridiculous hour to close anyway,” he informed your boyfriend flushed but not backing down, “Not even dinner time! Besides I came all the way here, the least you can do is give me my meal. I’m a paying customer.”

“We’re closed,” Osamu repeated slowly for the man as if he were a petulant toddler than needed things explained very slowly and in small words, his tone making you hide a smile behind your drink, “That means everythin’ is turned off, and we’re all packin’ up to leave. I couldn’t make yer order even if I wanted to.” “Well then what is she doing here huh?” the man demanded pointing an accusing finger in your direction, startling you enough you nearly spilled your drink, “I demand to be served too!”

“She ain’t a customer,” your boyfriend informed the man, a clearly warning edge to his voice, “That’s my girlfriend, and she’s waitin’ there fer me ta be finished so if ya could please vacate the premises so we can get goin’ I’d appreciate it.” “How unprofessional,” the man scoffed derisively, “Having your girlfriend here. I demand to speak to your manager.”

“Yer lookin’ at the manager,” Osamu countered with a bored sigh, “And he’s tellin’ you to please leave so we can close.”

The man blustered a bit more, but in the end he did concede, stomping out of the door and shouting how he was going to be in contact with the owner, and would be leaving a very poor review, which made you frown turning to look at your boyfriend in concern, though as per usual with him he looked completely unruffled by the whole thing.

“’Spose it’s a bit too late to tell him I’m the owner too huh?” he asked when he saw you looking at him, his mouth curling into a smile.

“Is it really okay?” you asked hesitantly, “I could’ve waited a little longer for you to make his food. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Well I woulda minded,” he countered casually pulling his hat off and ruffling a hand through his dark hair, making it fall across his forehead rather appealingly, “Sides, even if I wanted too, everythin’s pretty much put away anyway. I wouldn’t have had the ingredients.”

“But what if he does leave a bad review?” you asked with a frown, concerned for his business.

“It’s just one review sweets,” he assured you, “An if he does I’ll be sure to respond to it, if it’ll make ya feel better and explain the situation, though I don’t think it’ll matter much.”

“Alright,” you agreed, feeling a bit better at his reassurance, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he told you firmly, “Besides I wouldn’t have wanted to keep my favorite girl waitin’ any longer than she has ta be, just let me wipe everythin’ down, do one final check and get changed and we can get goin’ on our date.”

“Let me help,” you told him, quickly finishing your drink and tossing the disposable cup away moving toward the counter to grab one of the rags he kept there to help wipe down the tables.

“Ya don’t have ta sweets, me n the rest can handle it,” he told you grabbing hold of the other end of the rag to hold you in place.

“I know,” you told him with a smile, giving a quick glance around the shop to ensure no one could see before leaning over the counter to give him a light peck on the lips and explaining, “But we’ll finish faster if I help, and the sooner we finish the sooner I get you all to myself.”

“Alright,” he agreed a playful smile on his lips, and a soft look on his face that he only ever shared with you, “Have it your way then.”

“I will,” you told him with a grin, before bouncing off to do as you’d said you would a cheerful spring in your step as you contemplated how very lucky you were to have your man who loved you enough to set aside the time for you even if it meant dealing with angry customers just to spend a little extra time with you.

He Tugs at Your Ear

You stared out the window contemplatively watching the rain hit the glass. It was kind of a dreary day today and while you could sometimes enjoy the rain today it was making you feel a bit out of it. Frankly you had a lot to get done, but you couldn’t seem to drum up the motivation to do it.

You were so spaced out you didn’t even notice your boyfriend sliding a plate of food in front of you, and gently nudging your laptop away too distracted by watching the path the raindrops carved down the shop window. You probably would’ve continued with your daze, not even noticing the delicious smelling food just waiting to be consumed if not for the gentle tug at your ear.

The touch was a familiar one but even so you jerked slightly in surprise, your eyes turning to your boyfriend who had the lobe of your ear caught gently between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gesture he used a lot when he wanted to get your attention, a leftover remnant from his childhood with his twin, where Osamu would be forced to grab hold of him somehow to get him to shut up and pay attention.

Though you had to admit he was a lot sweeter with you than he was with Atsumu, probably because unlike his brother he had no particular desire to cause you pain when he was trying to catch your attention. He never twisted or yanked, just gently tugged on you, a disparity the blonde twin had noticed and liked to complain about loudly to anyone who would listen.

It was a rather sweet gesture honestly and an intimate touch you’d gotten used to after dating him for so long, even if it did still make you jump a bit from time to time, when he startled you, like he had just then.

“Looks like yer thinkin’ some pretty hefty thoughts there sweets,” he pointed out, his voice gentle with concern as he released your ear to gently cup your jaw running his thumb affectionately over your cheekbone, “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

“Nothing in particular,” you admitted with a wry smile, “Just feeling a little down I guess.”

“Well maybe this will cheer ya up,” he urged, nudging the plate of onigiri toward you, “Or at the very least fill yer belly.”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept over your face as you looked at the food he’d brought you. He’d shaped them into cute little pandas, no doubt especially for you and you didn’t doubt they were full of your favorite flavored fillings too.

Honestly you were pretty sure Osamu thought food was the answer for everything, and in some cases he was right, but this time just the gentle tug of his fingers on your ear had already lifted your mood a bit. The gesture more than enough to remind you just how much he cared about you.

He Cooks for You

The sound of your alarm woke you from a deep sleep, and you groaned quietly to yourself. It was morning again, and you really didn’t want to get up, but you had to work, so you slowly forced yourself to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and heaving a tired sigh.

You couldn’t help the sad glance you cast at the other side of the bed, which was already empty, the sheets cold, the owner gone a long time ago, no doubt already hard at work at his store. These days you didn’t get to wake up with Osamu in your arms or him in yours very often the way you had when you were in college. Not when he had a store to run, food prep to do, and employees to supervise.

You understood even if it did suck somedays to not find him beside you when you woke. Especially the mornings when you woke up and would’ve given almost anything to hold and be held by him just for a little while. Still needs must, and you were sure if you asked he’d be more than happy to cuddle you all evening if you asked it of him. He was incredibly accommodating that way.

With a tired sigh you pulled yourself from the bed and got ready for the day, doing your morning ablutions, picking out the clothes you’d need to wear, and trudging to the kitchen. You yawned as you glanced blearily around the room only to have the whiteboard on the fridge catch your eye.

You and Osamu had agreed to get the thing so the two of you could let one another know if you ran out of things and start a grocery list, since your boyfriend got a little cranky sometimes when he didn’t have the ingredients he needed. However you also used it to pass notes to one another, and it seemed he’d left one for you.

His handwriting was fairly neat though judging from the way it was a little sloppier than usual he’d either been in a hurry or too tired to really concentrate on what he was doing when he wrote it. However, you couldn’t help the fond smile that touched your lips when you read it.

Mornin’ Sweets,

Made yer favorite fer ya. It’s in the oven. Don’t forget to turn it off when ya take it out. Have a good day. Love ya.

-Samu

Curious you turned to the oven, which was indeed on, though set at a very low temperature, just enough to keep the food inside warm without cooking it further. You followed his instruction and turned the oven off before pulling the foil covered plate out, peeling the wrap back to see what he’d left you.

You weren’t able to stop the tender grin that spread across your face as you saw what he’d left you. He had actually made you your favorite breakfast, along with a couple side dishes he no doubt thought you’d like, including little sausages cut like octopi. It must’ve taken him forever, and no doubt forced him to wake up even earlier than he needed to be.

Your lip trembled slightly your heart feeling so full it almost hurt, touched at the clear care and thought your boyfriend had put into this for you. You honestly couldn’t help tearing up slightly even as you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. Eventually you managed to get your emotions under control and eat your breakfast feeling like you could almost taste how very much he loved you with each bite.

Before you left for work you made sure to leave him a voicemail, knowing he wouldn’t see it until later, but wanting to express your appreciation all the same in the best way you could for the moment.

It seemed he liked being able to hear your voice and your enjoyed your messages because it was the start of a new tradition. One where he cooked you breakfast every morning and you messaged him in some way in return to express your love and appreciation for your wonderful boyfriend.

#JayeRayWrites #how he shows you affection #miya osamu #osamu miya #osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu fic #miya osamu scenarios #Osamu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #haikyū!!#haikyu fluff #JayeRayReplies

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lilacpotter · 3 years

Note

Lillaaaccc!!!! Your layout is soo pretty 😭😭 I love the purple so much and thr header with planets and stars fhdjsjs 🥺🥺

Imma in love 😌💕

Also.. pls post some drabble 😭😭 I miss reading your work. Pls. Short drabble would work too. I smile sooo much when I read your drabbles fjdjd 😭😭

Pls 👉🏼👈🏼

Okay bye. Love you 😌💕

Broooo!! First of all, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY DHARAA!! omgg ❤

And thank youuuUuU. <333

I’m so fucking sorry I’m this late but I got it finally done. And pleassseee, take this more than 8k words “drabble” as your birthday gifttt!! I’m not sure how it really is but I hope it’s gooddd aah. I had been writing and rewriting it for the past three days djhsfsf 😫😹

Here we gooo <3:-

5 and 7

“What if I stole your crown right now?”

Those were the last words little Isak got to hear before prince Even snatched the golden crown with a mischievous grin and started running away. He chased after him, screaming in agony. He was dramatic, yes, so what? He was five and he could throw a tantrum if he wanted to. And also, don’t you dare call him little. He was big for his age and smart too.

He sped up his pace, trying to run as fast as he could in this thorny garden with his little prince feet, his golden curls tossing here and there on his head. But Even was taller and faster than him, so he outran Isak within no time with his giraffe legs, and Isak came to a stop somewhere in the middle, panting and falling onto the grass backward with a dramatic sigh. He laid there star-fished and watched the sky instead for a while.

It was autumn and the leaves were falling on his small face and it was warm and Even was back here in Oslo after a whole year, at the Valtersen palace. Even’s parents ruled a small country named Phitogin in the east side, and even if it wasn’t nearly as big as Norsk was, they were really close to Isak’s parents since their own childhood. So, they always paid a visit to Oslo every year during autumn and that was the only time Isak ever got to see Even and play with him and make sandcastles and blanket forts.

He squinted up his eyes at the bright sun, as if commanding it to shine a bit lesser, but of course, that wasn’t possible. He knew the sun was way bigger than earth and way hotter than the royal soup that was served to him whenever he fell sick. He wouldn’t dare mess with the sun.

He was about to put a hand over his face to shield himself instead, surrender to the great sun, when a dark shadow blocked the light above him.

“Hello, my little prince,” Even was grinning down at him mischievously, his hands behind his back.

Isak narrowed his eyes and sat up straight. “Where is my crown?” he demanded.

“Who knows?” Even shrugged, still keeping his hands behind himself. And Isak knew he was hiding the crown there.

So he pounced up and tried to grab Even by the shirt, but Even was quicker because he moved away in time.

“Give it back to me!” Isak yelled, jumping again. Even grinned wider, dodging him.

“No, little prince. You will ruin my hard work if you see it.”

“Don’t call me that,” Isak said, offended. “I am not little!”

Even smirked. “Oh yes, you are. You are very little, tiny. Look, you are even smaller than me!” And then he burst out laughing.

“I am not!!” Isak glared at him. He was not little. So he launched himself on top of Even to attack him. They both wrestled for a few minutes furiously, punching each other’s stomachs before falling to the ground on top of each other, breathing heavily.

When Isak opened his green eyes back up again Even was hovering above him, putting his crown back on his head quietly. Isak frowned and moved his hands up to touch the crown and see for himself what Even had done to it, but he didn’t let him and instead removed the crown again.

“Even, show me my crown!” Isak complained, reaching up.

“No, you will ruin it!” Even refused, shaking his head.

Isak grew more suspicious, so with narrowed eyes, he warned Even, “If you broke it or put tiny worms on top of it then I am not going to share my space blanket with you tonight.” He poked his little finger into Even’s chest to tell him how serious he was being.

Both of them knew how much Isak loved his space blanket and how much he loved sharing it with Even and the people he liked. If Isak refused to share it with anyone then it meant he didn’t like them enough.

Even, instead of being scared of Isak’s warning, grinned back at him again, all teeth and crinkles.

“Oh no, little prince. I wouldn’t dare break it or do anything such horrendous to your precious crown!” He said, widening his eyes dramatically.

Isak squinted his eyes at him. “Really?”

Even nodded furiously before slowly bringing his hands to the front, holding Isak’s golden crown in between his palms. It was shining in the afternoon sun as usual, too bright and too lustrous, but as Isak leaned in a bit nearer he noticed designs of pretty flowers all over it. Even had doodled on his crown.

Isak took his crown gently before looking at all the doodles. There were so many colourful flowers and they were all really pretty. There was one of Isak sitting on a throne, and another one of Adolph, their pet dog, and another one of Isak and Even on the bed watching the stars above them. There were just so many of them and they made the crown look so much better!

Isak was smiling without even knowing, his heart was flying, but Even probably had noticed it because he suddenly asked, “Do you like it?”

Isak could hear the smile in his voice. So, he morphed his face back, trying to look more annoyed than pleased, and glared at Even.

“No, I hate it! You ruined my crown, Even.” He said to his face trying to sound furious.

But Even grinned at him instead. “Oh really? Then why is there a smile on your face?”

Isak widened his eyes, turning red. “What? No there isn’t!” he protested, but he couldn’t stop smiling. And soon within no time Even laughing loudly.

“Oh my god, you’re such a bad liar!” He giggled.

Isak rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Shut up! I am leaving.” He said, before turning away and stomping dramatically to the castle.

“Of course you love what I did to your crown, little prince. I do too. I’ll make you more of these the next time we meet!” He heard Even shout from behind him loudly and Isak ducked his head, picked up a tiny rock, and threw it back at Even, missing him narrowly.

7 and 9

“Ugh, why do we always have to sleep together whenever you visit me? Why can’t you sleep in your own separate room?” Isak complained loudly to the dark, sighing when he got no reply.

So, he shuffled closer and pushed Even’s chest. “Evennnnnn!” he whined when the older boy let out another soft snore and pulled Isak’s blanket much tighter around himself.

“Hmph,” Isak sighed in defeat before slumping back and resorted to just staring at the dark instead when Even finally spoke.

“Maybe it’s because they think you are too little to be sleeping on your own at night.” There was too much sarcasm in his voice and Isak turned to him in surprise and suspicion.

“You were awake?!” He screamed in offense.

Even grinned at him in the dark, his teeth shining bright. “Did you actually think I had been sleeping this whole time?!”

Isak couldn’t believe him. “Oh my god,”

“Yes, and what’s wrong with me sleeping here?” said Even, shuffling closer to Isak noisily.

“Nothing is wrong.” Isak huffed. “You just keep stealing my blanket and I get cold!”

Even shuffled much closer until he was almost hugging Isak from the side. “Oh, I’m really sorry about that, your grace. But look! Sleeping together is not really that bad because you get to cuddle me and I’m much warmer than your precious blanket.” Even said, wrapping Isak’s little body with his arms and pulling the younger boy into himself.

Isak squirmed against him, groaning. “Ugh, go away!”

“Never in a million years,” Even mumbled, shoving his face on top of Isak’s fluff of curls. They were a tangle of skinny limbs.

“ugh,”

Isak tried moving away but he was failing so hard at it. So he gave up a while later and slumped against Even’s chest, feeling his chest rise and fall back as he breathed. He felt oddly at peace a while later and drifted into sleep easily. The blanket lay forgotten by the corner of the bed.

11 and 13

“What if we sneaked into the kitchen right now?” Even suddenly said, sounding excited.

Isak groaned at him. “No way. We won’t be sneaking out to the kitchen right now in the middle of the night.”

“But we will!”

“We won’t,”

He saw Even pout at him in the dark. He had gotten a new haircut and he looked ridiculous and although it shouldn’t have bothered Isak, it did. He couldn’t get to bury his fingers into those long blonde strands of hair from now on.

“But I’m hungry,” Even mumbled. “Pleaseeee, let’s go.”

Isak shook his head. “No one is hungry at night, Even. Stop making things up.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are?”

But Even wasn’t listening. He got up and already started pulling Isak up by his hands. Isak let out a loud groan before giving in and following the older boy out of the room.

It was dark outside and so they tip-toed quietly down the stairs. At one point they were almost caught when a guard heard Even’s stomach growling in hunger. They giggled to themselves and sneaked through the corridors and halls until they finally reached the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, they both started shoving as many food items as they could in their pockets. Even tried carrying half-eaten raspberry cake from the day before but he slipped and ruined it instead. Isak laughed out so loud that he was sure he had woken someone up but thank god no one stopped them.

It was chaos. But they were finally done, looking more chubbier and puffed up because of all those food stuffed in their pockets. They were giggling silently as they walked back out of the kitchen when they stopped dead as they spotted a boy of about Isak’s age staring at them in shock.

It was Magnus. He was the butler’s son.

13 and 15

“Do you think any one of them will like me?” Magnus asked, sitting beside Isak and eating large ice cream.

Isak wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying because his eyes were trained on Even. Even had gotten much taller recently and his hair was longer and he looked even more prettier. Shit. No, not pretty. He looked good. But Isak couldn’t help but think it was such an understatement. Even had even started getting a bit of muscle.

Isak watched him smile and beam and flirt with other girls in the castle hall. A weird kind of jealousy was stemming up in his body and he had no idea why. It was weird and new and made him feel all jittery.

“They look so pretty, don’t they?” Magnus was saying beside him.

Isak nodded absently. Yes, he is really pretty.

“I have never even talked to them, forget about touching them. Their skin looks so soft, Isak. I just want to touch them once. Isak, are you even listening?”

Magnus’s voice snapped Isak out of his thoughts and he blushed. “Uh, what?”

“The girls!” Magnus whined, nodding over to the bunch of girls who all looked way too interested in what Even had to say. Isak hated them. “Aren’t they beautiful? Why are girls so pretty?”

Isak bit his lip and nodded. “Even, uh, boys are pretty sometimes, I think.” He said slowly before he realised what he had just said and his heart sped up. Oh no.

Magnus hummed beside him, considering. “True. Even is really pretty if I’m being honest.” He stated it as a fact and Isak snapped his head up to look at him.

“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

“What?” Magnus laughed in confusion. “Even is pretty. That’s why girls love talking to him, isn’t it?”

Isak’s mouth was parted slightly. He just stared at Magnus for a few seconds before looking down, his cheeks flaming. “I guess so, yeah, um, Even is really pretty.”

“I told you!” Magnus hollered in joy. “I want to be pretty too. So girls would want to talk to me too. Don’t you think?”

Isak nodded again, biting his lip.

“I’m really pretty, huh?” Even’s voice came over and Isak looked up to see that he was walking over to them both. Oh, God. Had he heard what Isak had just said? It was going to be bad.

Isak flipped him off instead of saying anything and that earned him an ‘Oyy’ from a very surprised and an amused Even.

“We have already started learning this kind of things, I see.” He nodded over to Isak’s middle finger which was still sticking out in his direction.

“Magnus taught me.” Isak shrugged and then watched Magnus hug Even tightly for a moment before letting him go.

“We were just talking about how pretty you are, bro.” Magnus said, looking excited and Isak blushed again. Gosh, Magnus. Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth?

Even looked at Isak with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, really? Yeah, I did hear the prince say how pretty I am. It’s an honour for me really.” He smirked and Isak wanted to combust right then and there. “You should start calling me ‘pretty prince’ from now on then, Issy. It’s a nice name, isn’t it? Just like yours is, little prince.”

“Why are you such a dick?” Isak said, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy.

Even laughed out loud and when Isak flipped him off again, Even blew him a kiss instead went back to join the girls, this time taking a very excited Magnus along with him, leaving Isak feeling all flustered.

Gosh, why was he feeling like this recently? Isak did not like it. It was weird and just strange. He had never felt like this around Even before. And the fact that recently most of his dreams consisted only of Even touching him in weird places was also not helping things at all.

What the hell was really happening?

14 and 16

“Even, are you even listening?!” Isak said tiredly for the fourth time that day, but Even still kept staring blankly in the opposite direction.

So Isak reached his hand out that held his wooden sword and poked Even in the stomach. “Asshole!”

At that finally, Even looked up at him in surprise.

“Should I tell the queen you have started swearing nowadays? Hmm?” He broke into a mischievous grin.

Isak sighed exhaustedly. “We are learning to sword fight and you keep zoning out all the time! What’s up with you? Stop thinking of your girlfriend all the time.” He said, spitting the word ‘girlfriend’ out with as much spite as he could muster. Yes, he was frustrated and annoyed and pissed right now, so what?

Even had gotten himself a girlfriend two months back. Princess Sonja of the realm of Sweden. And she was all he ever talked about. Of course, Isak had a right to be pissed.

Even rolled his eyes this time. “I am not thinking of Sonja, excuse me. I’m listening.”

“No you are not!” Isak countered back, waving his wooden sword around.

“I am! I am not thinking of her, Issy, now come on, let’s practice.”

“Yes, you are!” Isak said back, pausing his practice entirely. “You are always thinking of Sonja. You always spend your time with her, kissing her and complimenting her and telling her she looks good and I bet you wouldn’t sleep in my room anymore if your mum allowed you to sleep along with Sonja! Of course, she is always on your mind. You forgot about me. It’s as if I don’t even exist to you! And now you can’t even practice sword fighting with me because you are always only thinking of her.”

He exhaled deeply after his outburst, and he knew there were tears in his eyes, hot, burning tears. but he was keeping them at bay from falling down and making him look weak. He wasn’t weak. Even was watching him back with wide eyes, his mouth falling open slightly.

“That’s not true.” He whispered finally, after a beat. “I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you, Is.”

His eyes were blue, blue, blue.

Isak stared into them for a few seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore and had to turn away. His heart broke a little inside. He never thought hearts could break, he had always believed that was all bullshit. But apparently, it was true.

Oh gosh, he was being super emotional again. So he wiped his tears and tried to shed off his sad feelings. He wasn’t weak.

“Doesn’t matter. I am just gonna practice and you can just keep thinking about your pretty girlfriend.” He mumbled before swinging his sword onto the big loaf of meat hanging in front of him.

He gave it a couple more shoves. Up and down. Right and left. Hard and quick. He hit the sack again and again, at various spots, from various angles, with various tricks and moves. It was hard, but he knew it was worth it. If he was going to be a king someday, then he had to be ready.

Even kept standing beside him, and Isak hated that no matter how much he tried he couldn’t not pay attention to Even. Had he zoned out again while standing there? Thinking of Sonja?

But then Even spoke and Isak groaned, “What if we ditched dinner and went to the garden right now?”

Isak frowned deeply. “No way, I’m not coming.”

“Yes, you are.” Even smirked before walking up to him and snatching the wooden sword and throwing it to a pile on the corner.

No way. Isak was not going to agree to him this time.

Isak found himself laying on the green grassy ground and staring up at the orange-hued sky half an hour later. His head was on Even’s lap and Even was weaving his long fingers through his sweaty curls.

“Stop doing that. I smell gross and I’m sweaty.” Isak mumbled when Even started running his fingers all over Isak’s face. It tickled him so he laughed.

“You look so beautiful when you laugh,” Even said softly, staring down into his eyes and cupping his jaw.

“Ugh, stop,” Isak rolled his eyes, but he was blushing.

“Never, not in a million years.”

Isak smelled in the flowers’ scent and relaxed. “I can’t believe I am actually here with my head on your fucking lap of all places.” He scoffed quietly.

Even chuckled from behind him. But he was too busy to reply apparently because he was ruffling around the garden, plucking something off. Isak couldn’t see properly so he watched the sky again, at the birds and the clouds. Everything was going good.

When he felt something on his head a while later he looked up at Even, silently asking him what it was.

“I made you a flower crown,” Even said simply, resuming to arrange it on Isak’s head properly.

“But flowers are for girls. Not for boys. You should keep it on Sonja’s head instead.” Isak mumbled.

Even scoffed from above him. “There is no such rule like that. Who’s teaching you all these?” He sounded truly disappointed.

Isak shrugged, his shoulders shaking Isak’s legs beneath them. “The royal teachers? People? Isn’t it how it always is?”

Even made a small sound, disagreeing with what Isak had just said. “Flowers are for everyone, Isak. For boys, for girls, for animals, and for everyone and everything, okay? There is no such thing as only meant for girls, or only meant for boys. You can do whatever you want. Stop believing this stuff you hear, Isak. You have always loved flowers, what happened to you now?”

Isak shrugged again, his heart felt heavy. He knew he loved flowers even now. He had always loved them. But mamma had always told him to not like girly things, that he was a boy and that he was supposed to like wars and horses and rough things, not things that are soft and pretty. He wasn’t a girl.

“Do you really think it’s okay if I like flowers?” He asked, his voice small.

Even sighed quietly above him and then he bent down slowly before kissing Isak’s forehead. Isak inhaled sharply at that.

“You are allowed to like whatever you want, okay? No one makes rules here, Is. Stop believing what others are telling you to do. You are my valiant prince and you will be a great king. A great king does not fear liking what he likes.” Even murmured to him, weaving through his curls again. “A great king is not afraid to be himself. Will you be a great king for me, Isak?”

“For you?” Isak licked his lips.

“Yes, for me.”

“Yes. I would do anything for you.” Isak admitted out loud, and he was surprised by his own boldness.

He heard Even smile when he said. “So would I,”

Isak blushed at that and ducked his gaze down, away from Even’s face. And watched the early stars. He loved spending time like this with Even. He hadn’t done this in so long. It felt good that Isak could take his mind off Sonja for a while.

“You look really pretty in a flower crown, do you know?” Even hummed from above him.

He retreated his hand back from his hair and cupped Isak’s jaw again, tilting his head so that he could look into his eyes. “You are so pretty,” he said, making Isak blush again.

“Ugh, fuck off,”

“What? I’m not lying. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen,” Even said, widening his eyes in honesty but he was also grinning.

Isak wanted to punch him. “Even more prettier than Sonja?” He asked instead, averting his gaze away from Even’s intense gaze. He regretted it the moment it was out of his mouth. God, Isak.

He had no idea how long it was, but when they finally got up from there and got back to the castle, it was completely dark. The only thing that was shining were the moon, stars, and Even’s eyes.

Isak showered and got dressed in the softest pajamas before getting into his bed and reading some thick book that he had found in the library.

He wasn’t really expecting anything when Even finally climbed into his bed quietly an hour later and it was dark, pitch black. Isak pretended to be asleep, so he snored softly, and it also helped that he was turned away from Even.

Even tossed and turned around for a while, before cuddling Isak from the back. Isak tensed up a little in his hands before he melted against Even’s chest. Why was he being this tense? They did this all the time. So he leaned back and let Even cuddle him instead. It felt really good, and he felt warm and his eyes started fluttering on their own in no time. He wasn’t expecting anything even when he was just drifting into his sleep slowly, but then he heard Even softly murmur against his ear, “Even prettier than Sonja.”

It almost brought him out of his sleepy daze. Almost.

16 and 18

“Shut up,”

“What do you mean, ‘shut up,’ I’m just trying to fix your bangs. You look pretty when you are grumpy, you know?”

“Shut up!”

“Alright, but don’t you think it will be a bit too much if I pulled my shirt up right here at the hall?”

“Oh my god!”

“All the girls would start swooning at me because I am so hot- ouch!”

Isak punched him in the stomach before hastily pulling his hand back and smiling at the guests. Even watched him with wide eyes by his side.

“You don’t think I’m hot?!” He whispered in outrage. Isak didn’t give him the satisfaction of a grumpy snarky reply.

They were both in costly suits, standing at one side of the hall and greeting all the guests awkwardly. It was the royal ball and somehow people from many other countries visited here to have a nice time. Although most of them called him the ‘little prince Isak,” whenever they greeted him. Fuck you, he was not little anymore.

There was also this princess Emma who seemed way too fond of Isak because she kept looking over to him every now and then before turning away shyly.

Isak wasn’t fond of her.

“I can’t believe you just punched a prince in the stomach.” Even mumbled by his side.

Isak rolled his eyes at him. “I am a prince too.”

Even reached his hand out again and started fixing Isak’s collar with a concentrated look. “Yes you are, little prince.”

“ugh, stop,” Isak groaned.

“Never,”

“Hey guys!” It was Magnus, holding a tray of drinks and serving it to everyone. He looked adorable in his outfit.

“Hey, Mags! My bro.” Even greeted cheerily before hugging Magnus tightly.

Isak smiled at them both and took a drink off the tray. Magnus looked pleased to see two people he knew after all that crowd of new, strange, rich people.

“Bros, just look at all those princesses!” He said excitedly, leaning in and waving a hand over to the bunch of pretty girls with crowns on their forehead. They were all eyeing Isak and Even hungrily and Isak wished he could escape. But his mamma and papa were watching him, so he couldn’t do that. “They are all just eating you with their eyes. Isak, man, what are you waiting for?! Go get one of them!” Magnus hollered.

“Nah, Mags. Not yet.” Isak said, sipping his drink.

“What do you mean ‘not yet’, bro?! They all look so pretty though! Go get some, and tell me how it went.” Magnus demanded.

Before Isak could reply, Even jumped in. “Isak is waiting for the right moment to score with Princess Emma, Mags. That’s why,”

Magnus looked around and when he spotted Emma, his eyes went wide and mischievous. He wiggled his eyebrows at Isak. “Oooh. Princess Emma, Issy?”

Isak‘s jaw tightened a little but he nodded slowly. Emma caught his eyes just then and he waved back to her awkwardly. She looked pleased with that gesture while the remaining princesses were scowling at her.

“Fuck, man. She looks so into you. What are you waiting for? Go get it or she will go for me instead if you wait any longer!” Magnus yelled into his ear loudly before leaving them both to serve other guests.

Isak swallowed and looked up at Even, who was gazing back at him.

“I am gonna go get her then,” he said, fixing his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Even said instead, helping him fix his shirt. He tucked Isak’s shirt tightly into his dark pants making him squirm under his touch.

“Yes, but I want to.” Isak lied.

“Don’t lie, Issy. Do you even like her?” Even frowned at him, keeping a hand on the small of his back.

“I’m not lying!” Isak lied. “I really like her. She is very pretty.” And then he shrugged himself off from Even’s touch and headed over to Emma.

An hour later, he found himself trying to dance with princess Emma. It was tough because they were both only teens and none of them knew how to dance or where to put their hands so they kept stomping each other’s feet instead. It was awkward, to say the least. But Emma didn’t seem to mind so much, she giggled and kissed his cheek and touched his hair, so Isak smiled back at her and tried his best because both his mamma and papa were watching and they looked really happy and proud of him. He was going to be the heir to the throne, after all, it was his duty to form strong bonds with other country rulers, and what was a better way than stealing their daughter’s hearts.

So, Isak danced and flirted and got drinks for Emma wishing there was another better way.

When they both were done, Isak headed out to the corridor to breathe in a bit of air and hoping to get away from Emma for a bit, but she found him again within no time. That girl really was too much. Isak felt like she was breathing down his neck every time she got too close to him. She was way too loud and way too giggly and kept falling all over Isak and touching him everywhere she could.

He wanted to combust right then and there. But Even appeared beside him just then like a knight in shining armour.

“You both are having a good time, I see,” he grinned at them both, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We are! Prince Isak is really charming.” Emma giggled from where she had both her hands wrapped around Isak’s neck.

Isak blushed because for some reason he couldn’t stand Even watching him like this.

“What if I do something stupid to save your ass from princess Emma right now?” Even leaned in, whispering into Isak’s ear so quietly that only he could hear.

Isak widened his eyes at him at that, then shook his head minutely saying ‘no,’ but Even just shrugged and grinned back at Emma.

Oh god.

“Oh, he really is very charming. No doubt.” Even agreed, sipping on his drink and leaning suavely against the wall. “Girls all over the city have a massive crush on him, you know.”

Isak looked over to Even with wide eyes. But Even wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Emma.

“Oh,” Emma said, her voice was filled with surprise. “Really?”

Even hummed. “Yes, most of those girls are even ready to jump in to marry Isak if he asks them. They are that gone for him. He really charms them all well.”

Isak was barely understanding what Even was on about. This was totally not true.

“Charms them? What do you mean?” Emma asked, sounding suspicious.

Even blinked once and averted his gaze to Isak’s once, before looking back at Emma in amusement. A smile playing on his lips.

“You haven’t heard? He charms them all so well that many of them try seducing him right then and there. He says he refuses them but I know it’s a lie. Why would he refuse them when he just flirted with all of them, right? You can only imagine what goes on between him and all the girls over the city.” Even was full-on grinning now and Isak was blushing furiously even though none of it was true. “No wonder every girl is crazy for him.”

He then leaned in and whispered into Emma’s ear, “I heard he is also dating one of them in secret.”

What the fucking fuck.

“Shut up, that’s not-“

“-oh my god, really?” Emma interrupted Isak, her eyes wide as she looked up at Isak. She looked shocked.

“Wha- no! No, of course not-“

“Look, he is lying again.” Even said, smirking.

Emma removed her hands from Isak’s neck slowly and took a step back, making space between them. Isak felt like he could finally breathe.

“I- wow- I just uh, I am sorry my prince,” she cracked a laugh that sounded more broken than anything else. “I didn’t know you had someone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you this way-“

“-Emma, just don’t believe Even. He is an idiot. I’m not seeing anyone else.” Isak tried telling her, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“What? Oh, it’s okay, my prince. I don’t really care, but uh, I have some work, I’ll just leave I guess. Have a good time with uh, your secret lover.” Her face was comical as she excused herself from them both.

He watched her retreating back with his jaw hung open.

And Even had the audacity to speak. “You are seeing someone in secret? I’m hurt, Isak.”

“You fucking asshole.” Isak hissed at Even once Emma was gone.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t said that yet,” Even hummed, smiling.

“What’d you do that for?” Isak cried.

Even just shrugged at him. “Because you looked like you need help. Besides, that poor girl is gonna get nightmares of you every time she sees any other girl in the city. And you are mine so sorry, I can’t share you with anyone else.” He winked. He fucking winked.

“That was so fucking bad, Ev. I swear to god.” Isak groaned. “Ugh, I hate you so much right now.”

“No, you don’t. I saved you from a very clingy monster dressed like a princess.”

“Fucking hell, I am not talking to you again. I really liked her.”

Even raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? You liked her?”

“Yes. Why? Don’t you think I can’t like girls?” Isak said defensively, furrowing his brows.

Even only sighed at him. “No, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Don’t call me a baby. Then what, Even? Do you think only you are allowed to get a girlfriend but not me? That’s fucked up.” Isak spat, annoyed.

“No- fuck, I’m sorry, Isak.” Even’s eyes were wide, and he looked like he was really sorry. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Isak stared at him for a beat or two before turning away. “Whatever. Go fucking enjoy with your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

He knew he had over-reacted as he fell on top of his king-sized bed that night. He and Even weren’t sleeping together anymore and Even had gotten his own big room. He couldn’t even get the point of making them both sleep together for all these years only to separate them now.

He was regretting his words and his reaction right now and was thinking of just sneaking into Even’s room to apologize to him when he heard loud familiar voices from his right wall. It was Even and Sonja. They were sleeping together now?

But then he started hearing words and curses and he knew they were arguing. Even had invited Sonja over here as well last week and Isak hated watching her stroll around arm-in-arm with Even day and night as if she owned him. He hated it, and he hated everything that wasn’t Even these days.

Another string of arguments pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused on that now. They were clearly arguing, fighting even. He had never heard Even yell like this at anyone, but Sonja’s voice was even louder. They were having issues, and Isak had no idea about what.

A few minutes after the continuous bickering, someone slammed something hard onto the ground, and then there was this loud sound of a door shutting close. Isak knew it was over and someone had stormed out.

What was happening?

Were they breaking up..?

Isak’s heart was beating quick when the door to his room slowly opened and Even entered inside, looking worn out.

“I’m sorry, Is. Can I sleep in your room for tonight? Please.”

“You were right. I didn’t like Emma. I never liked her.”

17 and 20

“What if I can make it up to you?”

“Even, I just fucking hate you, alright? Leave me alone.” Isak said, slamming the room to his door loudly. He didn’t want to hear any more of Even’s bullshit so he went straight to his bed and fell on top of it, burrowing his face into the pillow Even always slept. He inhaled the scent and felt something stirring inside him.

A weight dropped beside him and the next second someone was cuddling him from his side. Fucking Even. Of course, he followed Isak back into his room. Even literally had no sense of privacy. Not when it came to Isak at least.

“Ugh, why are you here?” Isak groaned into his pillow.

“What if I can make up to you?” Even repeated, to his ear this time. It gave Isak chills.

“How?”

This year, Even was back only for a week or so and Isak was already anticipating him leaving tomorrow when today Even had the audacity to leave the palace and spend his more than four hours flirting with the village girls and boys.

Look, Isak wasn’t being possessive, or fuck it, he had no idea, okay? But he knew he was definitely not controlling like Sonja was. Sonja and Even had broken up and Isak really knew now what that whole argument or fight was about.

But that’s not the matter right now. He wasn’t usually possessive, but look, he hated that Even just left him like that on the last day he was going to spend here in Oslo before he would be back in Bergen. He and Even were supposed to spend their whole day together but Even had ditched him in the evening to flirt with some girls and returned back at dinner and he was going to leave tomorrow morning.

Of course, Isak was pissed and annoyed. Why couldn’t Even flirt with him instead?

Fucking Even.

“I just can,” Even replied smoothly and Isak turned to him suspiciously.

“No, you can’t. I’m really hurt right now. Nothing can mend my broken heart.” Isak said instead. “And I really, really hate you right now.”

Even rolled his eyes at him fondly before cupping Isak’s chin with his hand. Then he leaned in and slowly asked, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Isak shuddered at that. They were so close. “No, of course not, Even. You would know if I kissed someone. Stop asking all the weir-”

Even shut him up with his own lips, kissing him. Isak whimpered and let out a surprised squeak before furiously trying to kiss Even back. Holy fuck, he was definitely dreaming. He was kissing Even. And nothing had ever felt so right in the universe.

Even kissed him gently and softly, he wasn’t rushing it, like he was savouring Isak’s lips, memorizing the way it moved and the way it tasted. It felt like he was trying to please Isak and it definitely was working. Isak moaned and hummed around their lips. He couldn’t believe it. He went pliant in Even’s arms and let him kiss him again and again and again until Isak could only see and feel and touch only Even, Even, and Even.

“Did I succeed in making up to you?”

“Hell yeah,”

19 and 22

Isak was fucked. Literally. He just realized how much he was crushing on Even and how badly he wanted him that way. The way every boy wanted the girl. And he was fucked now.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Even’s naked back as he stretched and yawned in the early morning like a cat.

Isak watched his muscles flex and his spine stretch and shoulders move from where he was still pretending to be asleep with his blanket over his head.

Even looked good. He probably was one of the most handsome men Isak had ever seen all his life. Yes, Even was a man now and it made Isak swoon over him.

Just as Even got off the bed, he caught a glimpse of his collarbone, and Isak’s mouth watered as he imagined himself licking it. Gosh.

Even had returned back to Oslo again two years later and he looked so good. He had grown way taller and had gotten way more muscles. His hair was longer and swooped back on his head. It made him look so sexy and hot and Isak couldn’t breathe every time their eyes met. Someone kill him, God.

“Is it bad I want him to do every evil thing he can to me?”

He said out loud, still drooling over the new, tall and hot version of Even as he practiced his sword fighting while Magnus fed the sheep beside him in the shed. He was getting really good at it and he had even defeated and killed some of the sworn enemy’s sneaky conspirators a couple of times. This was his favorite sword and he named it ‘Illuminati,’ because it sounded cool.

He heard something clatter to the ground and turned to look at Magnus who was watching him with wide eyes. “What the fuck, bro?”

Isak nodded gravely, not even caring about the fact that he just said ‘he’ out loud instead of a ‘she’.

“Who are you even talking about?” Magnus squinted at him, looking shocked. When he looked at where Isak’s gaze was pointing to, his eyes widened.

“Fuck bro. Even?”

Isak nodded again. Even was there, riding his black horse and greeting everyone on the way with a huge beam. He looked so pretty.

“Mags, I think I like Even.” Isak couldn’t believe his own voice. How was the feeling this brave to admit that out loud? But he was also fucking tired of lying to himself. He liked Even that way and he had known it for a long time but he never let himself accept it. He couldn’t do that anymore though. He just didn’t think he could keep it in himself when Even had kissed the last time he was here. The only thing that was repeating in Isak’s head was their kiss and how good it had felt.

He had kissed many girls after that, but all of them felt wrong. He realized he didn’t like girls. He had never liked girls. It scared him, but also comforted him, made him realize why he could just never feel the same like all his other friends did.

“Seriously, bro?!” Magnus came over to him. He was almost as tall as Isak now.

“yes,” Isak nodded, licking his lips and aiming at the sack with his sharp steel sword. It cut it in two halves.

Magnus looked mind blown, as if he just discovered some great theory. “Fucking hell, bro. That is awesome. Shit, I think I always knew why you looked at Even that way.” He was beaming so huge Isak wanted to shut him up.

“What way?” He frowned instead.

“The way I watch the girls.” Magnus winked at him and Isak groaned, blushing furiously.

“Fuck off,”

“But bro. What about Even then? Have you told him about how you feel yet?” Magnus shuffled closer to him, lowering his voice so that no one could hear them.

Isak’s heart clenched at that and his jaw tightened. “No, Mags. He doesn’t like me that way.” He cast his gaze down and started fiddling with his fingers.

Magnus looked almost disappointed at that information. “What? But how do you know?”

“I just do.” Isak shrugged. If Even did like him, he would have told him.

“Bullshit bro. Have you ever seen the way Even looks at you? He looks at you like you are the most precious thing to him. Kid you not, I thought Even had a secret crush on you for several years after we became friends.” Magnus huffed. “He definitely fancies you, bro.”

Isak bit his lip, considering what Magnus had just said. Did Even really look at him that way? Did he really like Isak?

“We even kissed,” He admitted quietly.

A squeak. And Magnus was right in his face now. “Are you fucking kidding? You both kissed?” He yelled, making Isak flinch. A few of the guards watched them with a stone face and Isak slapped Magnus’s arm so he would shut up.

“Yes, we did. Two years back.” He said.

“Fucking hell. Who kissed first? Details, Isak. I need more details!” Magnus demanded and Isak let out a groan, slightly regretting telling Isak, but he started telling the story anyway. About him getting jealous whenever Even flirted with other girls or whenever he was with Sonja, about their kiss and how Isak couldn’t believe it was finally happening, about how they never talked about it again and Isak was too flustered to bring it up so he pretended that it never happened, about how even now Even would sneak into his room at night and slept along with Isak, about how Even would always call him pretty and it used to make Isak question his sexuality. He told him everything, every single thing. He poured his heart out. And when he was finally done, Magnus was full-on grinning now and Isak couldn’t believe he just poured his heart out to Magnus of all people.

“And now you can’t take your eyes off him,” Magnus concluded, looking back at Even out in the vast field.

“Now I can’t take my eyes off him.” Isak agreed.

“Fucking hell, this is like a fairy tale.” Magnus mused with a smile. Isak rolled his eyes.

“This is anything but a fairytale.”

Magnus waved him off and got up, dusting his dress and he went back to the shed. As he walked in, he shouted over back to Isak, “Looking at someone like they are their universe, kissing them, and sneaking into their bed every night doesn’t seem like something a normal friend would do, Isak. You should stop thinking so hard and tell him.” He winked before disappearing inside.

Isak stared back at him for several minutes before letting out a sigh. ‘A true king is not afraid to be himself.’ Even’s words rang in his mind after all these years.

He would have to do this then, wouldn’t he?

21 and 23

“Even, I swear to god if anyone hears and informs my parents-“

-calm down, baby. Just enjoy.”

“They are the fucking king and quee- ahh“

Even dived back in and Isak moaned so loud he panicked he alerted the guards outside. But luckily, none of them barged in. Even didn’t stop, he kept going up and down, up and down and soon Isak was panting.

When they both were coming down from their high finally, sweaty bodies on top of each other, Isak let out a giggle.

“Fucking hell,”

Even smiled down at him, then rolled back to his side. “I can’t believe I fucked the prince in his own room. I should get paid for this.”

Isak shoved him with a laugh before Even pulled him into himself and he rested his head on his shoulder.

“Did you know I begged my mum to let me sleep with you when we were younger because I liked you a lot and wanted to watch you sleep because you looked so adorable?” Even said, suddenly.

Isak widened his eyes at that. “What the fuck, really?” Even nodded back at him and Isak couldn’t believe it.

“Wow..”

“Yeah, I used to pretend that I was scared of sleeping alone here in your castle and somehow my mum believed it and your mum agreed to let us sleep together.” He laughed. Bright and loud.

And Isak laughed along with him too. Even rubbed his hand up and down his back and they calmed their giggles down after a while. They were together exactly for a year but only got to touch each other for two weeks and a half or so. Because they both got together the year before and Even had left again a week later and only came back here now one and a half week ago. So they were trying their best to spend as much time together as they could without making it more suspicious.

It was going fine, but they knew something had to happen first. They had to come out. They couldn’t keep living in secret like this forever. Isak didn’t want it and neither did Even. Isak was ready to die if he wanted, but he wasn’t going to let their love be imprisoned this way.

“What if we get caught one day?” Even said quietly, drawing circles on Isak's back.

“Then we explain to them. Tell them we are together,”

“And what if they don’t accept us?”

Isak shuffled closer to him. “We will flip them off and elope togteher.”

“Oh yeah?” There was a smile in Even’s voice.

“Yeah,”

“To where?”

“To a place where we are safe.”

“Okay. What if they torture Magnus over here because he supported us all this time.”

Isak scowled. “Then we take him along with us. Find him a girl. Marry them both.”

Even let out a small laugh. “That sounds really nice.”

“It does.”

“I’m so glad you asked me out that day, baby.” Isak lifted his face up and smiled down at Even.

“I am glad too. Or I wouldn’t be here with you right now, naked and kissing you.”

Even grinned up at him in the darkness. “And you wouldn’t have known how good I was at fucking you.”

“oh my god, you are so dirty.” Isak groaned, palming his face. They both laughed for another few minutes before Even resorted back to stroking his back softly.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted this. Us. You.” He said quietly, and Isak shook his head at him lightly.

“Trust me, I do. Because I wanted this too.”

Even stared into his eyes at that, a fond look on his face, and Isak did the same before they kissed each other again for a while. Isak slumped back into Even’s chest contently after that and they pulled the blanket tighter around themselves. It was a miracle no one ever came to check upon them.

“We really owe Magnus a lot, don’t we?”

24 and 26

They were in Bali. In fucking Bali, during the fuming hot, summer.

Isak couldn’t believe it. It had taken so long for them to arrive here. They had to spend so much time on various huge ships and here they were finally.

Relaxing on one of the finest beaches, shirtless and with lemonades resting on either side of them. Isak had his country to rule, his own palace, his personal advisor Magnus and most important of all, his lover, Prince Even. So yes, life was going great. Except for one small thing. But he wasn’t going to bring that topic up now.

Let’s talk about something else. First things first, Isak is a king now. Yes, he is a king but not Even. Because Isak’s father passed away two years back in the battle and now he was crowned the king of the Norsk. Even’s parents were safe and sound, thank you.

The year Isak became a king, he knew he had the power to come out as a homosexual and claim Even as his lover, openly and freely, and people wouldn’t object. Wouldn’t dare to. His own mum had accepted them both so of course, none of the people really cared very much. As for Even, it’s his story to tell, but in the end, he was accepted by his parents too.

And now, here they were, in Bali. Having a vacation after a successful battle the previous year. Even was Isak’s boyfriend and Isak was Even’s. It was good. Life was good.

Except for that one small thing that was bothering Isak for the past two months.

“I love it here so much, Isak, God.” Even whined from his side, interrupting Isak’s thoughts. He stretched and Isak stared at his beautiful, long body. His lover’s body.

His heart bloomed every time he referred to Even as a ‘lover’.

“What if we just stayed here for the rest of our lives?” Even asked, looking at Isak with a smile. He looked gorgeous in the sun. He had tanned a little in the past few days.

“Then we will.”

Even grinned wider and turned to his front before slowly making his way over to Isak with his elbows and finally stopping by his chest.

“No, because I want to see more of the world. I want to see the world with you.”

Isak stroked through his blonde hair and kissed him. “I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Even melted in front of him and his smile turned much softer. “I love you,” he mumbled, kissing Isak’s nose and then hovering above his lips.

“I love you too,” Isak murmured back, and Even was kissing him the next moment.

They made out for a while in the sun, rolling on the beach sand like two horny starfishes until they both had to come up for air.

Even was watching him and he was feeling good. They both were feeling good and Isak thought this might be the right time to tell his lover.

“Um, baby,” He started, watching Even’s face trying to see all his reaction as he sat up straighter. “As much as I love hearing people call you my ‘lover’,” he emphasized on the last part and saw Even frowning slightly at right now. “I wonder how it would be if they called you my ‘husband.’”

He wished he could just freeze the exact moment when Even’s eyes widened and he looked so surprised it made Isak’s heart well inside his chest. But he was also very, very nervous right now.

Even wasn’t speaking anything, but his face was filled with emotions. He was red and flustered and shocked and bemused and looked surprised overall. As if he wasn’t expecting this.

But then, his upper lip quirked up and there was a hint of a smile. A smile that contained just too many emotions. And that was enough for Isak to go ahead.

He faced Even and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He opened it and held it shakily to Even.

“What if I asked you to marry me right now?”

A beat.

“I would say yes.”

#evak drabble #skam #evak #This is almost 9k fgsdkhfdk #my drabbles

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luvknow · 4 years

Text

parasitic | bang chan

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL

The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.

A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.

“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”

She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls.

“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!

“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”

“I have an exam this week.”

“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”

“So? I like to be prepared!”

“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”

“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”

“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”

“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Too many STDs.”

Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”

“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.

Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.

“Morning ~” she sang cutely.

“I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad!”

“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”

Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.

“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”

“So? Don’t we all?”

“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”

“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”

“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”

“More like melodramatic.”

No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.

The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.

“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.

“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”

Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.

“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.

Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”

“I’ll show you kosher.”

“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”

Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.

When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?

“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”

“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”

“Hey!” he pouted.

“Oh, shut it!”

“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”

“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”

“Um... yes?”

“You know, I don’t really consent to this -”

“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”

“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”

“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.

“Yeah, ok.”

“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”

“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”

Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”

Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.

As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.

What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”

“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.

“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”

The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”

“Come on, dude!”

“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”

“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”

“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”

“That’s normal!”

“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”

“Yeri’s room.”

“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”

“That’s just a coincidence -”

“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”

“Well -”

“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”

“... I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”

Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”

Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”

“My ass.”

“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.

“Ok, I’m leaving.”

“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”

“Always use my things.”

“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”

A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”

“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”

“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”

“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”

“I couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”

“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”

“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”

Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”

“Yes. I want to start over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”

“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”

You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”

A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”

“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”

“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”

“After you do my dishes.”

“... Fair enough.”

To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.

“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”

"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"

"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"

"As the captain, I sure hope so."

You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.

"Sure, I'll go."

"Really? I wasn't expecting that."

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."

"Please don't call me homie."

"Ok, home skillet."

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."

"Like, at all?"

"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"

"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."

Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.

"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"

"I have many regrets…"

"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"

"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."

"Yup, sounds like Christopher."

"So you're coming back soon, right…?"

"If soon means a couple of months, yes."

"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.

"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."

"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.

"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"

You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"

"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"

"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!

"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"

"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."

“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”

“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”

Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”

“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”

A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”

“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”

“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”

“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”

The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.

Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.

At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?

Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.

“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.

Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.

And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.

The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.

Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.

“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.

“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”

“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.

“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.

“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”

“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?

“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.

“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”

You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.

“Oh, uh…”

Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.

“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.

“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”

Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”

“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”

“Fine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t get too wild tonight.”

“No promises!”

Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.

“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”

“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”

“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”

“You’re so cruel, Channie.”

“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”

“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”

“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”

“I did not ask you to do that.”

“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”

“No, because there’s food at home.”

“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”

“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”

“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”

Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.

“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.

“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”

“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”

“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”

“I think it was an avocado.”

“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”

“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”

“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”

Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.

“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.

The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.

“You are a child.”

“Baby me, baby.”

Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.

“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.

“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”

“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”

You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”

“You have ears, so yes.”

From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.

“Is this your new song?” you asked.

He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”

“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”

“Be gentle at least, please.”

“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”

“Right, right.”

Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.

“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”

“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”

“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.

“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”

“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”

“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”

A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?

“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.

“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”

“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”

“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”

With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.

“Not until you tell me what you think.”

“Well, of course it tastes good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.

Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”

“Wow, ok.”

You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.

“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.

“They who?”

“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”

“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”

“Hey!”

“And probably a virgin.”

Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”

“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”

“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”

“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”

“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”

“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”

You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”

“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”

“A whole semester of being blacked out.”

“Hey, that means nothing!”

“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”

“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”

“Anyone can guess that.”

“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”

“So do a lot of girls, next.”

“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”

“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”

“... S-So -”

“Ah ha, got one!”

“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”

“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”

“How do you even know that?”

“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”

A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.

“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.

“They’re cute,” you pouted.

“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”

“Yeah, doing the dishes.”

“What!?”

“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.

A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.

His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.

A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!

But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?

Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?

Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.

Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.

“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”

“How can you tell?”

“You get that dumb look on your face.”

“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”

“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”

“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”

“I mean she kissed you… ?”

“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”

“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.

That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.

“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”

“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”

“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”

“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”

“How romantic…”

Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.

Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.

“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”

“Good for her.”

“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Sike, I have some homework to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”

“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.

An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”

“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”

“Then move faster.”

“You move faster…”

“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.

“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”

“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”

“Sometimes I wished I was.”

Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.

“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.

A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”

“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.

“Why what?”

“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”

“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”

“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”

“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”

“Ya like vinyl?”

“Huh?”

Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.

“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.

The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified.

In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.

How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?

You hoped so.

Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”

Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”

He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.

“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.

A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.

“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.

“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”

“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.

He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?

Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?

Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.

You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.

“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.

“I wanna listen, too ~”

“Then go steal another set of headphones!”

“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”

You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.

Honestly, what’s there to complain about?

The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.

“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.

“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”

Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.

“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.

“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”

“How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”

The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”

“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”

“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”

Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.

“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.

“Please stop lying,” you groaned.

“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”

“And that makes me likable how?”

Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”

“Yeah, to torture me.”

“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”

“Sike.”

“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”

Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”

Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”

“Chan -”

“I bet you already have ~”

“Ok, I’m going to bed.”

“No, you aren’t!”

You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.

“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.

That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”

You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”

“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.

“Yeah, fighting.”

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please.”

His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.

“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.

“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.

The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.

You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?

Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.

“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.

“What are you -”

You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?

“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.

He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?

Then he took a huge step back to let you through.

“All yours,” he whispered.

Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.

For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?

At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.

And neither of you spoke up about it.

So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.

The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?

“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”

The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”

The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”

Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?

“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.

“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”

“Do you not consider her your date?”

“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”

“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”

“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”

“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”

You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”

“How?”

“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”

“Tch, no.”

“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”

“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”

“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”

No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.

“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.

“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”

Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?

A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!

Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.

You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with.

You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.

“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!”

“Sorry, I was about to knock!”

“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”

The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”

“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”

“Both.”

You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”

“What? Then why did you…?”

“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”

“Gladly.”

“_____, I like you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”

“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”

“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”

“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”

You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.

“Chan, stop!” you giggled.

“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”

“I like you!”

Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”

“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”

“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.

“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”

“As much as that burdens me, fine.”

“I like you, Bang Chan.”

“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.

“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.

“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.

“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”

“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”

You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

EPILOGUE

“You two are what!?”

You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.

“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”

“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”

Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”

“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”

“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”

“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”

“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”

“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.

#bang chan #chan #skz #stray kids #skz chan #stray kids chan #college au #roommates au #chan scenarios #bang chan scenarios #chan imagines #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #omg no more chan for a very long time im tired of him LOL

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shelbyshoe · 3 years

Text

Garden and Lace

I've done a ton of revision and edits on this one, so I'm posting the better version here. Enjoy!

By the end of their mission, Levy is over Natsu and Lucy's arguing. She decides to take matters into her own hands. To finally have some peace and quiet, she traps them in her little glass bottle that houses her secret garden. With lots of time to kill, Natsu and Lucy must make up, but Lucy has other sensual plans of revenge.

Rated: Explicit

Some Explicit Tags: Smut, Light BDSM, Restraints, Ejaculation Denial, Edging :)

Words: 3940

FFN

AO3

Technically they had succeeded in their mission, but Levy Mcgarden felt far from successful on their way back to Magnolia. They completed the job, but in usual Fairy Tail fashion, they did not receive a reward. This didn't bother her. She only wanted to get out of her house. What irritated her was her partners' constant fighting. Natsu and Lucy were her close friends that she would lay down her life for, as they have done for her on many occasions. At that moment, however, all she wanted was to shove her fists in each one of their faces. This jarred her, as Levy was the nonviolent type. She needed to devise the perfect plan to ease her headache and still make it to Magnolia in time to see the next sunset. Levy sighed as their voices rose over the trees. She could barely pick up the sound of wings fluttering above them. Even the birds could not tolerate them. She hadn't expected much from their simple escort mission, only to get out of the house. Gajeel had left with Lily on another stealth mission for the master, so she felt compelled to depart on her own. She'd originally felt grateful for the extended invitation from Lucy. Her friends became a couple only a week ago, although not officially. Lucy sat down with her before their mission to explain. At first, this amused Levy. She thought it would be a quiet mission with the two love birds. She would get her hands on some extra cash and get out of town for a few days. Instead, Levy heard nothing but arguing.

"You didn't have to destroy the whole building!" Lucy complained. The trio took a break and sat on rocks near a once peaceful river. The day hot enough without them spitting words at each other.

"What was I supposed to do? Let him get away?"

"You could have taken it outside!"

"I can't always control that!" Natsu retorted. Levy's head pounded from the constant noise. She understood Lucy's frustration, but she also empathized with Natsu. For this reason, she stayed out of the entire argument. At least they didn't drag her into their discussion. They needed a valuable time out together in a quiet space. Levy remembered the small bottle she kept in her bag. She pulled the bag over her shoulder and inspected its contents. Levy shoved her arm into the mouth of leather all the way to her shoulder, glad she had created a bag with such an immense extension. She continued to rummage around for the bottle. The bold letters on the front spelled out "bag" and moved along with her arm inside. At that moment, Natsu picked Lucy up and threw her over his shoulder. "That's it," he said.

"You put me down right now!" she exclaimed. Levy watched out of the corner of her eye as Natsu began to walk Lucy over to the river. They had completely forgotten Levy's presence. She needed to find the bottle quickly before Natsu did what she thought he would do.

"Ah-ha!" Levy called out too late, as Natsu hopped into the river, and Lucy screamed. A great splash followed the sound. Natsu threw his head back, water dripped from his hair, and laughed as Lucy stood up and outstretched her arms to grab him.

"That's enough!" Levy cried, stood up from her rock, and stomped to the river's edge, "I can't take any more of your arguing!" The small mage watched as they both glanced in her direction. They were hip deep in the river, completely soaked. "Now, you both get into this bottle and deal with your problems before my head explodes."

"Now Levy, we can talk this out," Lucy said, trying to reason with her in vain. They must have seen something dangerous in her expression.

"Yes, you can," Levy said, her smile evil and wide, "once you get into this bottle!" Their eyes followed Levy's quill, as she began to form words in the air. S-H-R-I-N-K.

"Wait!" Natsu called. The smoky words darted toward them and slammed them back into the air. The world around them spun with a gust of wind.

Lucy closed her eyes and waited for her body to land but didn't fall as hard as she expected to. The patch of grass she landed on was soft. She squinted her eyes in the dim light when the day turned to night. Lights twinkled in the distance through the trees. She sat up slowly and recalled what Levy had said to them. Lucy would apologize to her later. She didn't realize how much she and Natsu fought. As much as she loved him, Natsu infuriated her at times. His destructive behavior always got them into trouble. This time, all the reward money from their mission went to pay for damages the dragon slayer created. She did understand where Natsu came from, but the excuses never ended.

Lucy stood in cast shadows, and spots of lights rustled with the light breeze around her. They reminded her of little fairies dashing in and out of the brush. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body with clothes still soaked from the river. The plants around her stretched out vast and foreign. Someone collected all of them and blended them together in one place. Lucy recalled the glass bottle in Levy's hand as the small woman lectured them. She must have sent them inside her bottle full of shrunken shrubs to get them out of her hair. Lucy brushed some grass off her blue skirt and pressed on through the strange foliage. Levy must have put a lot of work into her little terrarium. Some flowers Lucy had only seen in books. Some crawled up the trees, and some pushed through the dirt at her feet as she walked. She noticed the tiny purple petals sprouting from each step she took. She walked on with magic all around her—a chill against her skin. When the lights appeared closer, she moved a large jungle leaf to reveal the source of light.

A bright clearing between the massive plants revealed itself. An outdoor sitting area sat in the center draped in light netting. An inviting sizeable rug and pillows arranged on the lush grass. A short table with a turquoise tea set sat in the middle of the space. Above her, strung through the branches, tiny fairy lights lit everything in the clearing like stars. Bright insects weaved in and out of the tree canopies. Had Levy meant to punish them or reward them? Natsu. It was crucial she find him before he destroyed Levy's garden. Lucy inspected the opposite side of the clearing. She brushed the large leaves aside and stepped into the darkness.

"Natsu!" She waited for any other sound than the soft rustle from the wind through the trees. She heard something fall from a tree above her. With a small yelp, she backed up into the brush. Whatever fell from the sky had landed with a loud grunt. She heard a cough and knew what or who had fallen. "You scared me!" she said. Natsu lay on his back with furrowed brow and wet clothes. She stepped into the light and reached out her hand to him. His eyes opened slowly and gazed up at the tree where he had fallen.

"Lucy!" he exclaimed, taking her hand and hoisting himself up onto his feet, "Looks like there is no way out of here."

"What were you even doing up there?"

"Thought I could get a good look from the trees. Where are we exactly?" he asked.

"We're inside Levy's bottle," she replied, "I think this is her garden."

"How long do you think she'll keep us in here?"

"I assume until we get back to Magnolia." Lucy pushed past Natsu toward the sitting area. She wrapped her arms around her again with a shiver. He inspected her body with the movement. A light against her skin, warm and golden, cast shadows across her features.

"Lucy you're cold," he said. She continued to tremble; her eyes narrowed.

"Whose fault is that?" she accused. Natsu strolled around the sitting area—observed the plants around them. He squatted beside the tree line and squinted at a small twig that inched toward a bush like a caterpillar.

"This place is really cool," he decided. Lucy gazed at him from where she sat. His exquisite muscles moved suggestively beneath the soaked dark fabric against his tanned skin. The anger she felt for his usual antics subsided for the time being. Instead, her eyes darkened with the possibilities. She recalled all their intimate moments since they started seeing each other. She imagined the way his body moved beneath her thighs as she straddled him. If they were to spend hours together, trapped in a glass bottle of plants, she thought she would take advantage of it. Instead of pouting about Natsu's dunk in the river, her mind bloomed with ideas of revenge.

Natsu had never seen a place like this, more vivid than his own imagination. He wanted to ask Levy how she had created it all. Lucy might know. When he turned to her to ask, his mind silenced at the sight of her. Lucy's arms outstretched over the pillows, her hair draped around her in a golden display, and her eyes roamed his body like a hungry predator. Nothing grabbed his attention more than her white top, drenched from the river, clung to her skin to reveal hard pink nipples beneath the impeding fabric. Her eyes revealed no embarrassment, in fact, they invited him. He gravitated toward her like a moth.

"Lucy," he almost growled, "If you don't stop looking at me like that." If she invited him to take her here, could he promise her he wouldn't lose control?

"You'll what?" she teased. The look he gave her caused her to squirm. She'd play the temptress to catch him in her trap.

"Do I even have to answer that question?" he said. He didn't know what changed in Lucy to forget their argument, but he wasn't about to remind her. The hem of her skirt rose slowly to her upper thigh as she spread her legs. Natsu sunk down on his knees before her, desperate for the treasure between them. His fingers slid beneath her skirt when she stopped him.

"Not until I say so," Lucy said. She reached down and cupped his face in her palms and lifted his mouth to meet hers. His hunger seized her as soon as she pressed her lips to his. A soft breeze sent a shiver up his spine. The drenched clothes they wore now felt like heavy lead against their skin. Lucy placed both palms on his shoulders and guided his back to the floor. Natsu obliged without hesitation, his eyes heavy lidded, and waited to see what she would do. Lucy slid her fingers beneath his top to peel it from his skin. She tossed the fabric to the side without a glance, sat up, and gazed down at his bronzed skin. His arms above his head in surrender and chest bare as it rose and fell heavily with his excitement. His lips barely parted, invited her. She knew this look. A concentrated expression he would give his enemies, but with Lucy, it was to conquer not destroy. She had seen it whenever they made love. The images she conjured sent a wave of heat to her sex. Natsu's eyes darkened as he scented her, his length stiffened beneath her.

"Lucy, let me touch you." His voice husky with need and his hands curled into fists— fighting restraint. She only grinned in return. She reached around her waist, pulled off her belt, and tossed it to the side. Her familiar whip left in her firm grasp. He knew the custom leather weapon from every battle they entered together but never had he seen it in her hands with such a look in her eye. She pulled the leather between her fingers and leaned in to take his wrists, her breasts in perfect view. He leaned in and pressed his lips against one of them and heard a soft groan leave her body as he kissed her breast through the thin soaked fabric. She inspected the whip that firmly bound to his wrists together. Lucy slid her hands against his muscular chest. Her fingers leisurely glided against every ridge of muscle. Natsu closed his eyes with the irresistible sensation. This woman drove him crazy and surprised him every time they were together.

Lucy dipped lower to undo his belt, dropped the belt beside her own. His heart raced as she worked his pants open. With a firm grip on his waistline, she pulled down both his pants and boxers over his painful erection, starved for her touch. She gazed greedily at his body like a prize she had won and sat on her knees between his legs. Before she leaned into trail kisses down his chest, Natsu swore he heard her whisper, "lucky." He arched his back when her tongue darted out and trailed along his torso with her plump lips. The scent of her arousal permeated all around him. He groaned beneath her soft touch, his instinct screamed to claim her—to rip out of her precious whip and take her on the rug. "Lucy, please," he said between gritted teeth. He heard her chuckle before she wrapped a small hand around his cock. Natsu moaned with exquisite pleasure and bucked into her grasp.

The sight of him in her palm was one of the sexiest things she had ever witnessed. A powerful dragon slayer writhed in her grasp. Natsu lay naked, tied up, and completely helpless to her. The power intoxicating enough to embolden her. She rubbed his head slowly with her thumb. The tip glistened with his precum and throbbed with the need to release. Her other hand gripped the inside of his well-built thighs. Fuck.

"Don't worry Natsu, you'll like this," Lucy promised. She licked her palm and slid it over his immense length. His wrists struggled in their binding and his fingers dug into the grass. She gripped tighter over his velvet shaft and pressed her thumb against the vein beneath. He lifted his gaze to her hand in the way she worked. Her name fell from his lips as she upped the pace. Lucy wanted to burst into evil laughter with absolute power. She knew he was close when he bucked wildly against her hand and her name replaced with pleas. He finally seemed to fall apart when she cupped his scrotum and squeezed gently.

"I'm coming," he said, almost unable to speak the words clearly between ragged breaths. On a good day, Lucy would have happily obliged. Nothing pleased her more than getting him off and blowing his mind. Today was not a good day. She had prepared for this moment and almost pat herself on the back with how satisfying her revenge would be. Not only would she get her way in the end, and eventually allow him to come, but she would also punish him in the process. Plus, the whole thing was so hot she could feel her heat spill into her panties. When she felt the pulse against her palm, she tightly squeezed her fingers around the base of his phallus. Lucy knew the moment he realized what she was doing. His eyes grew wide, he moaned loudly and bucked his hips as hard as he could for the release that never came. When the ache subsided and his hips no longer moved, she let go of his shaft.

"Huh," she said, "It worked."

"Are you trying to kill me?" he demanded. She had expected the irritation in his eyes, but not the pure arousal from the act. He liked this.

"Maybe." Lucy needed him. She knew she wouldn't be able to last long without him inside her. Her core tightened to the point of ache as she sank lower between his legs.

"You're the death of me, Lucy Heartfilia." Natsu couldn't take his eyes off her, maddened with the need to bury himself inside her. Whenever she released him from his restraints, he swore, he would take her so hard she would scream his name. The anticipation set his blood on fire. She lowered herself between his thighs and trailed kisses down to his length, her mouth like flame against his skin. She gazed up at him in deep brown as she took his cock in her greedy hands once again. Lucy wrapped her lips around the head of his shaft, and her tongue lapped at the sensitive tip. Natsu arched his back again pulling at his restraints.

Lucy couldn't take her eyes off him. His chest moved up and down with his erratic breathing as he moaned. His face and chest flushed with the pleasure of her. The whole image so erotic she couldn't stand it anymore. She reached down with one hand to pull down her skirt and underwear. Natsu's gaze glued to the pair of pink lace panties. They were, in fact, his favorite pair. They fell before his eyes and lay on the ground beside her. Her hand moved to her weeping sex to touch herself, and he bit his lip at the sight. Don't lose control. He repeated the word like a mantra. She slowly took him into her mouth as she stroked her sensitive clit with her fingers. She was so wet, they slid easily over the throbbing nub. She couldn't help but moan against his cock. The vibrations made a curse slip from his lips. Lucy knew he was too big to fit entirely into her mouth, so she placed her other hand below her lips and squeezed tightly.

"Fuck. You suck me so good," Natsu said. She groaned when praises fell repeatedly from his lips, and she upped her pace. She sucked his shaft into her mouth with sloppy wet sounds in her ears and rubbed her drenched clit in a frenzy, spreading her knees wider for herself. She could feel her climax coming as his shaft began to pulse. This time she pulled her mouth away as he came and clamped her hand around the base of his cock once more. Without concern, she continued to reach her limit. Natsu shouted out with his denied release as she came against her own fingers. He watched helplessly as she rode her orgasm.

"Fuck," he groaned. His shaft cold and wet with the absence of her hot tight mouth. She stilled between his legs to catch her breath. Natsu took the opening and sat up. She gasped when he leaned into her and pressed her back to the ground. Natsu pulled free from his restraints while beads of sweat formed over his skin. With free hands, he placed both on either side of her head. "My turn." One hand reached up to restrain her wrists in a tight grip. With the other, he pushed his fingers between her folds and drove into her tight little cunt. She whimpered with his touch and thrust her hips into his hand. Natsu was relentless. He worked his fingers against her sweetest places until she became a puddle in his grasp. She cried out for her coming climax. Instead, he pulled his hand away and allowed her to wiggle her thighs together for relief. She groaned loudly at his gesture and frowned at Natsu's victorious grin.

"Natsu," she pleaded. He let her wrists go and moved down to her blouse. The fabric teased her peaked nipples since they got there, and it didn't sit well with him. He took little time to free them from her blouse. Natsu tossed her top over his shoulder, and his eyes roamed her pale and perfect breasts before lowering his lips to one of them. He sucked her chilled nipple into the heat of his mouth. Lucy cried out when his tongue lapped at them, and his teeth grazed against her skin. The sound like a melody in his sensitive ears. He left soft kisses beneath one full breast and moved to the other, pleased with her reactions. Usually, he'd take his time and savor her, but after what she did to him, he had no more patience. He released her nipples and positioned his cock against her entrance. Her mouth hung open in an empty cry as he sheathed himself inside her. Her eyes rolled back with the sweet feeling of him filling her to the brim.

"Fuck Lucy." His control shattered and he squeezed his eyes shut as her walls tightened around him in a vice grip. He knew he would come sooner than he would like, and it was all a part of her plan. He took a deep breath to calm himself, readied for what came next. As soon as she adjusted, he pulled out of her to the tip and proceeded to slam into her dripping sex. Her breasts bounced with the force and a resounding slap of wet flushed skin filled the air. She was the most erotic and beautiful woman he had ever seen. All he wanted was to show her how he would worship her body. His name tumbled from her lips as he rode her hard. Her fingers dug into his back—implored him to continue. Natsu slid his hands beneath her and grasped her firm buttocks. He pulled her hips up to meet his and buried himself fully into her. "God Lucy, I can't," he said desperately.

"Come for me, Natsu." With her words, he crumbled. Their cries echoed around them as they came together. Natsu rolled his hips with languid motion, her tight walls squeezed around him in her orgasm. He all but collapsed to the side and pulled her close to his chest. He wrapped his legs around her possessively with his sex within her.

"Are we even? No more fighting?" he asked breathlessly.

"No more fighting," she agreed. If this was how all their arguments ended, she may not mind.

It took them a while, beneath the darkened canopy of trees and foliage, to unlock from each other. Lucy picked up her clothes and began to dress, as she watched the fireflies dash in and around the fairy lights. The place was like a walk in a dream. The two lay in a heap amongst the pillows. Lucy spread her arms out and leaned her head back against their softness. Natsu laid his head in her lap gazing up at her.

"I'm beat," he said.

"Me too." They sat together for a while and talked about everything and nothing. They almost dozed off with the sounds of the forest when they heard footsteps coming toward them.

"Geez, you guys really fight, don't you?" Levy said walking through the brush. She was in a fresh set of clothes and followed by a tall dark shadow. They knew she made it to Magnolia.

"Damn Salamander, what do you do, get into fistfights with the girl?" Gajeel's familiar voice said, "You both look exhausted." Natsu and Lucy glanced at each other and laughed.

"Something like that," Lucy said.

#nalu #fairy tail #ft fan fiction #nalu fan fiction #natsu x lucy #garden and lace #my writing

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sweetestlamb · 4 years

Text

I Still Get Jealous

Summary: Gang-tae comes to terms with his feelings for Mun-yeong and acknowledges that feeling he tries so hard to suppress, jealousy.

Author's notes: Just a little jealous GT drabble that popped in my head that become something longer, I've been very busy with real life so writing has been difficult. Hope you enjoy, it's not too deep just a cute little story about an adorable jealous boy lol.

Turning in the bed, he pounds at the pillow supporting his head remembering his talk with Mun-yeong, even mentally and privately he couldn't admit that the possessive anger betrayed feeling that churned in his stomach was....jealousy.

Why would he be jealous? He didn't own her and they weren't anything. Just housemates, he was merely someone she knew. But hearing that dismissive title leave her mouth in front of someone that was visibly interested in her made him..uneasy. If a little protective. That was a much better word, he cared for Mun-yeong so it was natural to be protective of her, it had nothing to do with his potential feelings for her. Those didn't exist. At all.

He would act the same way with anyone, if an unknown man was trying to harass Ju-Ri, he would do the same because she was an acquaintance that he cared about.

That's all it was.

With a resolute nod, he turns once more finding a comfortable position before drifting off to sleep.

Meet me at the pizza shop.

He stares at Jae-su's message, as he walks through the hospital doors, hopping into the car and driving off to the pizza shop.

Walking through those doors with a smile, he searches for his best friend only to feel cold chill roll through his body at the sight before him.

She had informed him this morning that she'd be out, demanding that he meet her for lunch but he had declined, brushing her off. It was easier that way, he was still wrestling to get his wayward emotions under control.

But he feels the ropes loosening as he watches her smile that enigmatic smile across the table, glossy hair lightly brushing her creamy collar. She looked beautiful in a short green summer dress, her bare legs peeking out from the table.

Across from her sat a man he's never seen before, tall with thick brown hair dressed in a pressed navy suit. Outlandish in the casual setting of the shop, they both looked too expensive for the space.

The man leaned closer to her, stretching himself across the table although the shop was quiet and it was hardly a struggle to converse easily. His jaw tightened as those hands stopped mere inches away from Mun-yeong's which were folded primly on the table.

She smiled at his words, head tilting slightly showcasing her beautiful neck line. He could only imagine those hungry eyes devouring her and it made him feel.... protective.

Was this another fan that she was forced to entertain because of Sang-in's incompetence? Did she need him to save her? How long had they been sitting there?

"There you are! I thought you weren't coming." Jae-su claps a hand on his shoulder forcing his eyes away from the table. He turns around trying to exude nonchalance, forcing himself not to look over.

"Why are you just standing there with that sour face? Let's get you some pizza!" Pulling him to a table that perfectly aligned with hers, before Jae-su was blocking his view. His friend already has the pizza on the table, warm and delicious and he begins to feed Gang-tae spewing out complaints of how Gang-tae had abandoned him and he should be his number one.

He chews at the pizza thoughtlessly, Jae-su's voice droning away in the background, nothing more than white noise, eyes locked on Mun-yeong and her companion.

They are chatting animatedly, all hands and smiles, before the stranger glances down at his watch and looks back up. He begins to collect their garbage, before offering a hand to her. She lets herself be pulled up and that hand slides into a subtle grasp on her waist. He waits for her to push the hand away.

That moment never arrives, instead they leave the shop as his eyes pierce into the side of her face.

Dashing out of the chair, he hastily chases after them with a loud goodbye to Jae-su who sputters after him, whine in his voice as he actually abandons him the very thing he had been complaining about.

Bursting outside he whips his head around searching for that familiar figure, before finally landing on her. The man chats as he escorts her to his car, racing forward he runs around the lot so he can accidentally run into them, just to make sure Mun-yeong is not being coerced.

Mun-yeong sees him almost immediately and his heart soars as he waits for the blinding smile he'll receive. Waits for her to pull away from that unwanted touch and run over and cling to him as she often does, linking arms despite his protests.

Instead she she looks away as if their eyes never met, as if he's the stranger and not this man invading her personal space. Anger burns his sensibilities away and with a glare he stomps over, blocking their path.

"Mun-yeong, is that you?" He calls out, refusing to let her ignore him although he doesn't know why her doing so makes him so infuriated. It's just rude, that's all he tries to convince himself.

The man answers for her, "Ah you must be a fan. I'm sorry, we're in a bit of a rush right now. She can't take any photos." His blood boils at the gall of this asshole, a fan?

Ignoring him he stares at Mun-yeong, taking in her passive gaze and that hand so boldly settled on her hip.

"Do you need a ride? I drive our car here." He doesn't know what possesses him to say that, our, such a small word but the implications it carries are massive.

Shifting uncomfortably the man turns to look at her, "Mun-yeong ah do you know this man?"

"Yes we live together." He answers, satisfied with the grimace that runs across the man's face.

"He's a housemate, his older brother also lives there. He's my illustrator and he-" she juts a thumb in his direction, "is his caretaker. They were a packaged deal."

His heart thuds at those words that wedge an unimaginable distance between them, limiting their roles in each other's lives. He blisters at her callousness, at times he was her destiny and they were a set but now he was simply a housemate.

The sound of a phone ringing breaks the uncomfortable silence, with an apologetic glance the man answers his phone. It becomes clear that he's being called away, trying to contain his glee he stares at the ground, smile itching to come out.

"Mun-yeong ah I'm being called on business, so we'll have to cut this date short."

He bristles at the word date, jaw clenched so tight he fears lockjaw.

"But I'll call you and we can keep discussing what you mentioned earlier. It was brilliant seeing you, you're as gorgeous as the day I first met you. I'll drop you of--"

"No. I can drop her off."

The man jolts as if he'd forgotten he was there. Pompous imbecile.

Their eyes narrow as they both stare the other down. Mun-yeong's cough pulls them away from each other before she finally speaks, "As much as I'm enjoying this dick measuring contest, I don't intend to stand here all day."

With a furious blush, he jumps at her words, turning away wholly ashamed of himself.

"Joo-young oppa, thank you for the meal. Thank you for meeting me. Drive safely."

He watches in horror as she's pulled into a hug, her arms remain at her side but his larger frame almost swallows her entirely, gently squeezing her into him before he releases her.

With a smug look and a cheesy smile, he finally leaves and Gang-tae can breathe easily once more.

She walks away, striding to the car not parked too far from where they're standing. He rouses himself from his anger and trails after her.

Once they are safely buckled up and driving he sneaks glances over at her, but her eyes are peering outside the window oblivious to his turmoil.

He coughs loudly but that doesn't garner her attention. He clears his throat, but still nothing. Finally he snaps, "So who was that? He seemed very familiar with you." He can't tamper the bite in his voice, emotions far too close to the surface.

Those piercing eyes land on him, penetrating into his soul, curiously fills them to the brim. With a rye smile she speaks, "An old friend."

He waits to see if she will continue, but that's all she deigns him worthy of knowing.

Protectiveness pushes him on, "Why were you having lunch with him?

"Why do you care? I asked you to meet me, you didn't answer. So I ate with someone else, is that a crime?"

He knows he's behaving irrationally, he has no right to question her or get this riled up because she was dining with someone else but his heart doesn't want to hear reason. He just wants to lash out.

"What about his hand on your hip? How many men are you letting hold you? Are you two meant to be as well?"

He can't stop pushing, so furious with her for being on a date, for making his heart ache this way, for smiling at someone else and allowing them to touch her, was this thing between them just another one of her games?

He pulls up to the castle, parking the car with a deep sigh.

Unbuckling her seat belt she opens the door, pausing for a moment to stare at him, "Are you.... jealous?" Something soft flashes in her eyes, a glint of hope before a familiar smirk slides across her face.

It raises his hackles and defensively he cries, "No! Why would I be jealous? I don't care who you talk to!"

With those vicious words he rips the warmth from her eyes leaving behind cold lifeless pools of darkness. Those eyes that haunted him when they were kids.

"You're such a coward. Get out of my sight before you piss me off more." She opens the car door slamming it close in a thunderous bang. He watches her storm away from him with his heart in his throat.

He yearns to follow her, to finally actualize those feelings that percolate when she's in his presence. However fear renders him motionless.

He drives back to work with a frown etched on his handsome face. Absently nodding in apology when he's reprimanded for his tardiness. Head heavy with thoughts of her.

Nothing comes of their disagreement, Mun-yeong is tight lipped about exactly who that man was and he lets his feelings fester, pushing them down until they are buried deep beneath the surface.

He learns from Sang-in after accosting politely asking him about Joo-young Oppa that they are old friends, business friend and one of Mun-yeong's biggest investors. He'd exploded at the manager when he admitted that he's insisted that Mun-yeong meet with him because he knew the man had a crush on her. She would be able to secure his investment into her newest book.

How dare he use Mun-yeong like that? She wasn't a bargaining chip. Damn incompetent idiot.

Jae-su invites him out for drinks and he agrees after a moment's hesitation. He hasn't seen much of Mun-yeong lately and he'd been planning on talking to her, try to move past this awkwardness that still plagued their interactions. In all actuality, she seemed to be fine and was as assertive and distracting as usual, but he couldn't help picking at her, lashing out when she claimed he was what she wanted. Rejecting her love.

But thoughts of her with that man made his skin crawl and his fist tighten.

What he needed was a night of drunken disregard to firmly push those emotions down.

As if the universe is conspiring against him, he's greeted by a horrifying sight. Jae-su laughing at the table, guffawing as he slams back a shot of soju. Across the table Ju-ri giggles cheeks already flushed red and her eyes glossy. But it's the dark figure beside that renders him speechless, Mun-yeong looks at them at them from the corner of her eye, exasperation rolling off her in waves.

Since when were they all friends, close enough to go drinking together? From his knowledge Mun-yeong didn't particularly like either of them, calling Jae-su an idiot most of time and declaring Ju-ri as a two faced bitch.

Yet, there they were laughing and drinking, Mun-yeong picked up her glass with dainty hands pouring the liquor down her throat in a fluid motion.

"Oh Moon Gang-tae!! What are you doing? Come sit down we started without you." Jae-su waves him over, flailing in his seat as he gestures to the empty chair beside him.

His eyes flutter over to Mun-yeong sidetracking Ju-ri's wide eyes and her welcoming wave, she looked surprised to see him-had this not been planned?- and with a small mysterious grin she turns back to her drink.

Sliding into the empty chair he quietly greets everyone accepting the glass that Jae-su eagerly presses into his hand.

Needing it now more than ever, slamming it back then hissing at the burn that erupts in its wake.

Biting the bullet he turns to his friend, "I didn't know you invited anyone else..." He glances over at the girls, who are both too focused on eating to hear his comment.

Jae-su nods before replying, "I ran into Ju-ri and then Mun-yeong text her saying she was bored so we invited her to come with us. She's...not so bad."

He stares at him blankly, all of the rants and warnings playing back through his head.

"Yeah, yeah. I know what I said. But she's okay when she's not stabbing my best friend. Plus she's paying for everything, so I think she's great!"

Mun-yeong perks up at the last of the sentence watching them suspiciously and Jae-su shoots her a blinding grin and a thumbs up, "Cheers to Mun-yeong for paying!"

Ju-ri surges up drunkenly shouting a little too loudly, "To Mun-yeong ah!"

She glares at them both snidely replying, "I didn't think you'd order so much you damn mooches. Last time I try to do something nice."

But he can read her like a book, she's having fun, the relaxed lines of her body curving into the chair.

He can't help his answering grin.

"Well I better order something too before your graciousness warns out."

"Aish! You little...!"

They are melt into comfortable conversations, discussing their days and swallowing shot after shot until endless bottles litter the table's surface.

When he pours the last drop of soju, he watches Jae-su waving someone over. It has to be the waitress.

A new voice enters the fray, decidedly male voice, the timber low and flirtatious. Despite Jae-su's outstretched hand the waiter makes a clear bee line for Mun-yeong. Focusing all his attention on her, eyes trailing down her neck before settling on her face.

"What can I get for you?" His tone is far too suggestive for such an Innocuous question.

Mun-yeong bites her lip thoughtfully and he watches as the waiter's eyes fixate on her mouth.

He coughs loudly, answering with a frown "We need more soju. And I want noodles."

Without breaking his intense gaze on Mun-yeong he nods at Gang-tae, "If you need anything else, anything at all. Let me know. " He stresses the words before stalking off with a smile.

He glares at the retreating figure, unaware of the Jae-su's knowing gaze at his clenched jaw.

It takes all of his willpower not to shout in frustration when the waiter turns around, making his way back over to their table.

"I don't mean to bother but could I ask your name? I can't keep calling you gorgeous customer in my head." Once again his eyes are unwavering as they latch on Mun-yeong as though she is the only occupant of the table.

His anger flares up, who was this punk and why was he so unprofessional? He didn't need to get a customer's name to serve them and why did he only want Mun-yeong's name? Gorgeous customer? He shouldn't be thinking of her at all! His only job was to get their food not flirt with his.....

His what?

What was she to him? He was the very one who'd been adamant that were nothing. So what was wrong with him? Why did he want to leap across the table and punch the waiter in his smug mouth?

"Gorgeous huh? Do you flatter all your customers like this or am I special?" He bristles at the playfulness in her voice, glaring at the small coy smile on her lips.

"You're special. I've never seen anyone like you."

Gang-tae's knuckles burn from his punishing grip on the chair.

"And you probably never will. What will I get if I give you my name?"

Ju-ri admonishes at her question, lightly shoving at her shoulder as her eyes dart over to him. He grips his chopsticks in his hand, tempted to stab the man in front of him.

Mun-yeong shrugs, staring up from under her dark long lashes.

"Anything you want."

She licks her lips in response and he can't take anymore, his frustration erupts like a dormant volcano, pushing his chair back in a loud screech he ignores Jae-su's calls as he stomps to the bathroom.

Splashing cold water on his hot face and taking deep breaths to combat the rapid beat of his heart.

When he eventually makes his way back, Mun-yeong is the only one at the table. Aimlessly scrolling on her phone, when he sits down she looks up. That same infuriating smirk on her face.

"Are you done with your jealous tantrum?"

"I'm not jealous! I just needed to use the bathro--"

She cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Save the lies. Chicken boy left and took the two faced bitch. I already paid the bill so we can go."

He follows after her as she leaves the restaurant the clicks of her heels deafening in his ear drums.

"Good night Mun-yeong ah, please come back very soon." She winks at the waiter before striding out the door.

He makes a mental note to never return to this restaurant. Glaring at the waiter, accidentally knocking his shoulder as he passes him to the door.

The drive home is tense, both quietly staring out the window. Surprisingly he's the first to break the thick silence.

"Why did you flirt with him?" Anxiety fills his heart as he glances at her from the corner of his eye.

Those eyes fill his vision again, "Why wouldn't I?"

He grips the steering wheel tighter, no rebuttal.

She staggers to her room on wobbly legs, waving good night over her shoulder.

Sleep doesn't find him easily.

There are men everywhere, approaching her at all times, while they're on line waiting for their coffee order, as they walk down the street, even at the hospital, there is no escape from the men who want to sweep her off her feet. All looking at her with hunger eyes and beckoning grins.

He doesn't know if this was always the norm, if men were always bombarding her and he simply never noticed but now he's hyper aware of every instance. His teeth hurt from how much he's been clenching his jaw.

And she doesn't do anything to deter them, none of her usual prickliness or abrasiveness, no threats or assaults. Instead she smiles mysteriously, dancing out of their reach but never outright shutting down the flirtations. It's driving him crazy.

She was still adamant that they were destined, sending him teasing smiles when they were alone, constantly asking him, "Are you jealous?"

He denied her at very turn, rejecting that there was anything more to their relationship and loudly denouncing his supposed jealous.

Admitting it would be too real. Too vulnerable.

In a turn of fate that nobody would predict it's Cha-young who wakes him from his willful oblivion.

He's changing in the locker room when he overhears the lazy nurse on his cellphone, he's supposed to be searching the patients beds for dangerous contraband and Gang-tae stalks over to reprimand him. Irritated already, as he'd seen one of the hospitals donors chatting up Mun-yeong.

He'd stormed off and ended up here in his fit.

"You're supposed to be--"

Cha-young's frustrated yell cuts him off, "What do you mean why am I upset? You were flirting right in front of me!"

He stops short, air vacuumed from his lungs as he molds himself into the wall, eavesdropping.

"But you didn't tell him you had a boyfriend. That's all you had to say and he would have stopped."

He watches him pace around the room, arms flailing as he shouts into the phone, "Well you are! We've been going on all these dates, you know I like you! It drove me crazy to see you with him."

"Yes! Okay, I was jealous. How could I not be? I thought you only acted like that with me. I want to make this official."

Then in a much softer tone, almost a whisper, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?..."

The victorious pump and whoop that he lets out makes the answer on the other line more than apparent.

"Good so now we belong to each other. No more smiles, you have a boyfriend. No, it's fine I can talk, I'm just at work I'm not busy."

In a daze, he leaves the room. Leaving him to his phone call, avoiding the nurses in the hallway who are inquiring about Cha-young's whereabouts. He has a lot to think about.

He doesn't get an abundance of time to ponder what he overheard before he turns a corner and sees Mun-yeong and the wealthy donor. The man in question, smiling and pressing into her space.

Instinctively he walks over catching their conversation, "You're even more beautiful in person. When the director told me you'd be here I thought he was bluffing. What would a best-selling author want with a psychiatric hospital but here you are, as selfless as you are gorgeous."

Gang-tae saddles up to Mun-yeong, shoulder to shoulder, internally smirking at the look of confusion that mars the man's face as he unexpectedly joins them.

"Yes?... Can I help you? We're having a private conversation." The donor looks at him in annoyance, reaching out to grab Mun-yeong's arm.

And he doesn't know what comes over him, but he's been suppressing himself for weeks now, swallowing his anger and frustration and...hurt. And it all comes crashing out as he watches yet another man encroach on his... Mun-yeong.

"Actually I do mind, you don't need to have private conversations with hospital staff. " He slaps the land away, prepared to fight now.

He scoffs at Gang-tae rolling his eyes, rubbing his hand, "How is this any of your business, huh? What are you two together?" He says the word like it's impossible, unfathomable that a mere caretaker would get someone like Mun-yeong.

But confidence swells in his chest. She wants him, has been vocal about their destiny despite suitors pouring in from all directions.

We're a set, a bomb and its safety pin.

He finally stops deceiving himself, stops suppressing his emotions and says what he knows to be true. The one thing he's been running from.

"Yes. We're together."

He hears the small gasp fall from her lips, in his peripheral he sees her head whip around to face him.

That smug smile falters minutely on the man's face but he regains his composure spitefully biting out, "You? With her? Why would she want a caretaker? You aren't on her level."

Ugly shame festers in his bone, he knows the picture they make when they're together. She is so far out of his reach it's laughable, he has nothing to offer her. Penniless and barely cognizant of his own emotions with too much baggage for one person.

She steps in front of him, shielding him with her slighter body, her voice cold and chilling, "Watch your tongue before I remove it. He doesn't need to overcompensate for anything. His face alone is worth more than anything you've have to offer."

He blushes at her words, shuffling behind her stupidly smiling at the man stands baffled and sputtering.

"Excuse me!"

"You heard him, we're together. So stop pestering me already." Grabbing his hand Mun-yeong struts off, never taking a second look back, but he does and in a childish move he sticks out his tongue, grinning at the searing glare he receives. The donor’s face angry red as he fumes behind them.

"Gosh took you long enough." Mun-yeong sighs pulling him to a bench outside, dragging him down to sit with her.

He stares wordlessly at her. She's so gorgeous, all smooth skin and plush lips.

"How long did you know?"

"Since the beginning, you hide your emotions very good. But not jealousy, that one was obvious."

He sighs hiding his face, burning scarlet cheeks.

She pries his face away, smiling sweetly at him, "Did you mean it?"

Without a doubt he knows that is hope in her voice, the seeds of hope planting themselves in her skin as she looks steadfast at him, demanding his honesty.

He couldn't fight this if he wanted to.

"Yes. I meant it. You're mine and I'm yours, it's just like you said we're a set."

Her radiant smile eclipses the sun in the sky.

Suddenly she jolts up breaking their hold, starting to race off, but he grabs her wrists holding her in place, "Wait where are you going?"

"To tell everyone, everyone needs to know that you're mine. I saw one of the new nurses looking at you. I need to tell her you're off limits and Ju-ri and I are better but I still see her looking at you, I'll just remind her."

Catching him off guard she slips into his lap, pressing a hard kiss to his lips, short circuiting his brain functions.

Caressing his cheeks she smirks at him, wiping at her lipstick now branding his mouth, "Mine."

Warmth blossoms throughout his body and his arms tighten on her waist.

Mine.

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #jealous GT #denial is not just a river #supposed to be a drabble #thats why it is not as detailed #I thought i could write a quick 1k drabble #I failed

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

The Best Christmas Gift || Jakob Chychrun

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: This is another plot I’ve wanted to write for quite a while and Jakob is just so perfect for it. Unlike so many of my other stories, you cannot yell at me for a slow burn here. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Warnings: a little nsfw content (fingering) kinda tossed in the middle of all the fluff, some cursing.

Word Count: 5,247

~~~~~~

It's the most wonderful time of the year

There'll be much mistltoeing

And hearts will be glowing

When loved ones are near

It's the most wonderful time of the year

Unconsciously, your fingers pressed the buttons on the steering wheel to switch radio stations.

I'll have a blue Christmas without you

I'll be so blue just thinking about you

Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree

Won't be the same, dear, if you're not here with me

Groaning, you just turned the radio off, letting silence fill the car. Today was one of those days where every song that came on the radio felt like a personal attack and while part of you wanted to throw up, another fought to blink back tears.

As you pulled into your parents’ driveway, you noted that there were no lights, no decorations, nothing that screamed Christmas was only three days away. It was just another reminder of how shitty life could be. You weren’t even supposed to be here, you were supposed to be at a cabin in the mountains with your fiance and his family. The plans had been made back in July and when you’d told your parents, they had booked a trip to Alaska, a trip they had been wanting to go on for years. They’d left for that trip last week, a mere 48 hours before your world crumbled around you.

You’d been out to dinner when your fiance Nick had asked for the ring back, declaring that he no longer wanted to get married, his expression so nonchalant, so unwilling to acknowledge that he was currently ripping your heart from your chest and stomping on it. You’d screamed, you’d cried, you’d made a hell of a scene but his mind was made up and so you left the restaurant leaving both the ring and the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with behind.

To make matters worse, you’d moved in with him when you’d gotten engaged and now, your childhood home was the only place you could turn. Nick had told you that you could stay in the apartment while he was in the mountains with his family but how were you supposed to sleep in the bed you’d shared, sit on the couch you’d watched so many movies together on knowing that all of it was a lie. Instead, you’d packed your bags, grabbing as much as you could and mentally saying screw the rest.

As you finally shut off your car, you couldn’t help but muse that this was certainly going to be the suckiest Christmas yet. At least your parents had a heated pool and December temperatures in Florida meant that you could spend the next week working on a tan. Though your life had crumbled, at least by the time you went back to work you could at least look like you had your shit together.

Slamming your car door shut, you moved to open the trunk when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? You know your mom and dad are in Alaska right now right?” Nancy Chychrun was one of the sweetest women you had ever known and as she walked across the space between your driveways you felt the mask you were trying to hold in place start to slip.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just going to hang out here by myself for a while.” You replied, rubbing your hands up and down your arm.

“What happened to…?” Nancy started to question, her eyes going wide as she caught a glimpse of your now barren ring finger. “Oh, sweetheart.” She cooed, stepping forward to wrap you up in a big hug. Letting yourself bask in the motherly touch you’d been craving since the other night, you wrapped your arms around her in return, hugging tightly. When she pulled away she wiped the tears from your cheek before sending you a knowing look. “Well, we all know he’s an idiot.” She declared, her hands cupping your cheeks to ensure that you were alright.

It was only as you were staring past her shoulder that you noticed their car was also open, being loaded up with suitcases.

“We’re going to Arizona to have Christmas with Jakob.” She explained. “And you know what...you’re coming with us.”

“Oh no...I couldn’t.” You immediately reacted, stepping back. “Truly I’ll be fine. Some time to decompress alone will be good for me.” You explained.

“Y/N. You are not spending Christmas alone.” Nancy pressed. “We already have an extra plane ticket. One of Taylor’s friends was supposed to join us but had a last-minute change of plans. It’s no bother at all to swap the names and I insist.”

If there was one thing you had learned about Nancy over the years was that she was certainly a mama bear and when she got something into her head, she wasn’t going to let it drop until you agreed.

“I’m not...my suitcases are a mess and…” You murmured, opening your trunk.

“Well, then I guess you better go rearrange them. We leave in an hour.” Her hand squeezed yours and she turned back, yelling up toward the house for Jeff to pull up the flight information to edit Erin’s ticket to reflect your name.

_____

A little over six hours later you were disembarking from the flight into the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport feeling like some of the weight on your shoulders had been lifted. From the moment you’d stepped into your parents’ house, Taylor Chychrun had started texting you a list of a million things to bring with you. While you’d finally lugged your bag downstairs and into the Chychrun’s car, Jeff had started rambling about how good it was to see you and how excited they all were that you were joining them. The rambling was a good distraction from the depths of your brain and it lasted until you reached the airport. Then, the moment the plane had taken off, Taylor had insisted on sharing a pair of headphones as she put on a cheesy Christmas movie and it wasn’t long before her commentary had you nearly rolling in laughter. It had been far too long since you had spent any time with the Chychrun’s and maybe Nancy was right. You needed to be around people and the Chychrun’s were some of the best. You honestly hadn’t realized how much you missed them.

And there was one member of the family, in particular, who you missed without even knowing it.

You had just pulled your bag from the baggage carousel when you heard Taylor squeal out her brother’s name. By the time you turned around, both Nancy and Taylor had their arms wrapped around Jakob’s lean frame and a second later Jeff was hugging him as well. As the family moved to gather their bags, your eyes met blue and for a moment you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Y/N…” Jakob greeted, surprise filling his voice as numerous emotions flicked across his face. “I...I didn’t know you were coming.” He whispered, though his body stepped forward to lean down and wrap around yours in a strong but gentle hug. “It’s good to see you.” He murmured softly in your ear and immediately you knew that he was being completely sincere.

“It was a last-minute change of plans.” You admitted. “But your mom insisted I come and it’s really good to see you too.” Jakob’s smile was warm as he pulled away and immediately reached for your bag. “I can…” You started but quickly gave in when he sent you a look, one he had very clearly learned from his mom. “Thank you.” You corrected, looking over to see that the rest of the Chychrun’s had gathered their bags and were ready to leave the airport.

As you sat in the back seat of Jakob’s SUV you tried to but couldn’t remember the last time Nick had ever carried one of your bags for you. It was such a small thing but it made you miss your broken relationship just a little bit less.

_____

You’d spent the evening hours that first night curled up on the outdoor couch in Jakob’s backyard with a glass of wine in hand as you watched the flames flicker in the gas fireplace. Though you chipped in on the conversation occasionally, for the most part, you just sat and observed the family dynamics going on around you. As you watched Jakob laugh and be ribbed by his dad and sister, your brain popped up with that nagging reminder that Nick’s family had never been this laid back, made you feel this comfortable. Still, you occasionally caught yourself fiddling with your barren ring finger, mimicking the action of spinning your engagement ring around it. You hadn’t realized anyone noticed but a few minutes after everyone else headed inside for bed, Jakob returned with a fresh glass of wine for you and sat next to you, his thigh pressed against your knee.

“Can I uh...can I ask what happened?” He inquired, the calmness of his voice settling deep in your bones. “If you don’t want to talk about it that’s cool but uh...you keep fiddling with your ring finger and I can’t help but notice your engagement ring is missing.” It didn’t surprise you that Jakob knew you’d been engaged, not with the way your moms gossiped. And though it shouldn’t, for some reason it did surprise you that he cared enough to ask about it. Downing another long sip of wine you debated whether you wanted to share the details but the feeling of Jakob’s warm hand on your knee pushed you to start talking.

You rambled on about how you hadn’t seen it coming, how you thought things were going well. You complained about how he’d done it in public, making you look like a completely crazy woman. You cried softly as you talked about how now you suddenly felt like you weren’t good enough, had never been good enough, and then before Jakob could jump in and stop your negative thoughts, you admitted that maybe you hadn’t truly been happy either.

Jakob just sat and listened, he’d always been a good listener...you couldn’t say the same about Nick...before he draped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you against the side of his body.

“Can I be honest?” He whispered, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Of course.” You agreed though you were anxious to hear what he had to say.

“He wasn’t good enough for you,” Jakob stated. “I know you cared about him...loved him even…” He paused for a moment. “But your smile never reached your eyes when you were with him.” Maybe you imagined it because of the wine, but you could have sworn you felt Jakob’s breath hitch as he leaned in to kiss the top of your head. “So this may not be what you wanted or expected but I’m relieved...because I just want to see you happy, truly happy Y/N.”

Sitting, curled into Jakob’s side you sat and watched the fire flicker back and forth, his thumb rubbing lazily against your upper arm.

At the same time, a fire was starting to flicker inside of you, long-forgotten embers slowly being stoked to life.

_____

You weren’t sure if it was the insanely comfortable mattress, the wine, or the feeling of Jakob’s arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you goodnight, but you fell asleep almost instantly and didn’t stir until the sun was peeking through the windows. As you pushed the sleep from your body, you pondered over the fact that you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept that well.

After breakfast, you had bugged Jakob about where the best local shopping was and then dragged Taylor out with you to buy presents despite everyone’s protests. Your raised eyebrow when you accused Nancy of trying to talk you out of shopping while knowing she was going to make sure there were presents for you was enough to get her to back off and after a few successful hours, you had a set of small presents for each member of the Chychrun family.

You snuck into your guest room to wrap them before changing into your swimsuit and heading down to spend some time at Jakob’s pool. As you lounged with Taylor, working on your tans, you occasionally felt a pair of eyes on you that made you shiver. Eventually, Jakob pulled you into the pool with him, and for the first time since the break-up, you forgot about Nick completely. As dinner time approached, you pulled yourself away from where Jakob was bugging you in the pool and dried off, heading inside to see if you could help Nancy with dinner.

Dinner was once again delicious, and you teased Nancy about how she was turning you into a lush with all of the wine. Conversation felt even more seamless than the night before and as you worked to clean up dishes, you felt Jakob pressing against your back as he reached up to put dishes away over your head.

“You doin’ okay?” He whispered and when you nodded you felt him squeeze your hip, the heat of his fingers transferring quickly through the thin fabric of your sundress. The two of you danced around each other as you finished cleaning up and when you were done, he tugged you over to the piano sitting in his living room. “Mom wanted me to play and I think you should come and play with me.”

“Jakob...that’s all you buddy...I haven’t...it’s been years.” You admitted. In fact, you had both been teenagers the last time you had touched piano keys.

“It’s not exactly something you forget.” He insisted, sitting you down on the piano bench before sliding in beside you. “I’ll even give you the easy part.” He declared, bumping your shoulder with what would be his own if you were a little bit taller but was instead just his arm. Scanning both the music and the keys in front of you, you tried to remember but settled for resting your fingers on the key Jakob pointed you to, following his direction and what little natural musical talent you had to press your key at the appropriate time.

By the second song, you just watched Jakob, who was such a natural at this that you knew he still took the time to practice. After playing a little mini-concert for his family, the two of you moved to join everyone else on the couches where Nancy was looking through photo albums. For the most part, she just showed them off to her kids but every once and a while she would draw your attention and point to a photo of you and Jakob. Sometimes you forgot about how close you once had been, and as you took in photos of you in Jakob’s jerseys over the years you felt waves of peace wash over you.

By the time you headed to bed, your head was full of memories.

And as you lay there, tossing and turning, those memories fed into the slowly growing fire deep inside you until tears were streaming down your cheeks. All at once, you remembered why you had even given Nick a second look in the first place.

You were trying to get over your feelings for Jakob.

For most of your teenage years, you’d had a schoolgirl crush of sorts on your neighbor and best friend. But then you got older, he got drafted into the NHL and your hopes of those feelings ever being requited vanished. You had just watched Jakob play his first NHL game when Nick approached you and honestly the rest was history. It wasn’t that you hadn’t liked Nick...but you certainly had never been in love with him...you just told yourself you were. You had settled for what you thought was attainable because you were afraid of truly being hurt by the man you considered unattainable.

Now you were back at square one and this time you could feel yourself falling back into those feelings, falling rapidly in love with Jakob.

Unable to sleep, you tiptoed downstairs and over to the piano, your path lit by the Christmas tree which twinkled, reflecting off the windows. Gently your fingers ran over the keys, not using any pressure for fear of waking someone.

“Y/N…” A scratchy voice whispered and after jumping from being startled, you looked over to find Jakob walking toward you from the kitchen. “What are you doing up?” He asked. You hadn’t realized that you were still crying until Jakob was squatting beside the piano bench, his fingers brushing the tears off your cheeks.

“I never loved him.” You admitted. Confusion filled Jakob’s face and he quietly stood, pulling you from the bench and over towards the tree that looked like it came straight off the cover of a magazine.

“What do you mean?” Jakob questioned, his arms resting lightly on your hips as he tried to understand everything going through your head.

“I never loved him.” You repeated. “I just told myself I did. Told myself he would have to be good enough.” Jakob started to speak but you shook your head needing to get it all out there. “But he never carried my bags. Opened my door. Brought me wine. I don’t think his family ever liked me much. They certainly never made me feel very welcome. And he...he never really listened. I never felt like he truly ever heard me. Like he truly ever even knew me. I…” This time it was Jakob who shut you up, his fingers flexing against your hips as he stepped closer.

“Are you saying…? Fuck...please tell me you’re saying…” Jakob’s voice was rough with emotion and the Christmas lights caught his eyes in ways that made them send shivers down your spine. You weren’t surprised that he had picked up on how everything you’d mentioned was something he’d done, his family had done in the last 48 hours. “Please…” Jakob repeated, and you could feel how much he needed the answer.

“I never loved him because he wasn’t you.” Jakob didn’t respond, and immediately you started questioning if that was even what he expected you to say, what he wanted you to say. “I...was so certain that you’d never feel the same that I went for something that I knew was actually attainable and I guess I was right on the first count but wrong on the latter…”

A gasp spilled from your throat as Jakob crashed his lips onto yours, pulling you against his body for a deep and passionate kiss. Jakob kissed you until you had to pull away to breathe, and then as soon as you had caught your breath, he kissed you again.

You weren’t sure how long you stood in front of the Christmas tree, Jakob’s hands and mouth trying to tell you all the things he had yet to say. But eventually, he paused, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers drifted to take your hands in his.

“You just made my every Christmas wish for the last five years come true.” He breathed. “Fuck...I’ve been in love with you since I was like 16. I just didn’t know what love was. I’ve missed having you in my everyday life more than you know and I hope you know I’m not letting you go now. I know you have shit to work through, we have shit to work through but I promise you...the day I put a ring on your finger I am never going to ask for it back.”

Jakob’s words, the certainty behind each and every one of them, stoked the teasing flames into an all-consuming inferno. You’d never imagined this day would ever come. But it had, and it was possibly the best Christmas gift you could ever receive.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” You murmured, pressing your lips against Jakob’s once more. With his hands tangled in your hair, Jakob walked the two of you back to the couch, pulling you down to curl into his lap. It was there that you finally fell asleep for a few hours, waking to the feeling of Jakob’s lips against your neck.

____

By the time his family made their way downstairs, you and Jakob had breakfast made and were sitting outside enjoying the warm Arizona Christmas Eve. As you basked under the sun’s rays, you thought about both your future and your past. To many, it might seem crazy that a week ago you were engaged to be married and now you were quickly falling head over heels for another man. To those that truly knew you, however, you were certain that it would come as no surprise. There was so much that you and Jakob needed to discuss but you could honestly and truly say that you were excited for what the future held.

As you finished breakfast, you chatted with Nancy about all of the food preparations that needed made both for dinner tonight but also lunch and dinner tomorrow. It wasn’t long until you were elbow deep in recipes, working alongside Nancy and Taylor to make sure that everything was ready and needed as little effort as possible later. By the time preparations were finished, it was time to change for church and when you came down the stairs you felt Jakob’s eyes taking in the sight of you, the feeling holding a deeper meaning now. His hand rested against the small of your back as he guided you to the car and he dipped his head to whisper in your ear.

“You look beautiful.” The deep color of his eyes signaled that there were words he wasn’t saying given the time and audience but it still made you fight back a blush knowing his thoughts weren’t all appropriate.

Church was followed by dinner and board games before everyone retired to bed. Everyone but you and Jakob. Now dressed in loungewear, you made your way to where Jakob was seated on the couch, straddling over his lap as his hands fell to your hips.

“Care to share what you were really thinking earlier…” You teased, your body responding with excitement to just the feeling of his eyes on you.

“I was thinking there are things I want to do to you that I should definitely not be thinking on my way to church.” He replied, sealing his lips around yours in a kiss and sliding his tongue into your mouth as you gasped against him. “I probably also shouldn’t be thinking them with my parents and sister upstairs.” He added as he pulled back to breathe.

“Think them.” You murmured, dropping your hips to rock against his. “Because I know I am.” Jakob groaned and allowed you to seek the friction of your hips on his for another moment before his hands forced you to stop. “J…” You whined, pouting as he laughed against your neck.

“Trust me, baby...I want it too.” Jakob assured you. “But I want to take you on a date first.” He insisted. “And I certainly want to be able to hear every noise you make without worrying about being caught by my parents.” You knew he was right but that didn’t mean you had to be happy about it. “I’ve wondered what it would feel like to be inside you since I was 17...I can wait a little longer. And I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”

“J...you can’t say things like that.” You grumbled now feeling even more turned on than you were when he first stopped you.

“I’m sorry.” Jakob breathed, moving one hand to cup your face and pull you into a gentle kiss. For a moment, his remaining hand twitched on its spot against your hip before it moved quickly, shifting around your stomach to slide under the waistband of your pajamas. As his fingers slid between your slick folds you felt him break the kiss to murmur against your lips. “You gotta be quiet okay baby?” His fingers quickly found your swollen clit as he kissed you again, muffling your whimpers as you shifted your hips against his hand. Quickly, one long finger pressed inside of you before being joined by a second, and before you could even process just how quickly you were cumming on just his fingers, your orgasm crashed over your leaving you gasping quietly into his shoulder.

As you caught your breath, Jakob removed his fingers, wiping them onto his sweats before his lips kissed your forehead.

“Better baby?” He asked, a soft smirk on his face. All you could do was nod, the muscles in your thighs still twitching.

“We’re gonna talk about that later.” You sighed, amazed at the fact that he hadn’t even hesitated in reading your body and providing you exactly what you needed. Not to mention that it was that good.

After a moment, Jakob had you cradled in his arms and had stood from the couch, heading for the stairs.

“Now I think it’s time for bed. You know Santa won’t come if you’re still awake.” He joked. As he laid you down gently on the guest bed he kissed you once more, his fingers pushing a stray strand of hair away. “Merry Christmas Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Merry Christmas J...thank you.” Sated from your orgasm, from the feelings of being loved by Jakob, sleep once again came quickly as you snuggled into bed.

______

Taylor was the one who woke you up in the morning, insisting that everyone was downstairs and ready to open presents. Cleaning yourself up a little from last night’s activities, you made your way downstairs a few minutes later to find presents now stacked neatly under the tree. The only spot available was beside Jakob on the couch and in front of the empty spot was a steaming mug. With a silent nod, Jakob confirmed it was for you and as Nancy handed out the first round of presents you took a sip, smiling at the fact that someone remembered that hot chocolate was the only appropriate beverage for Christmas morning.

In the first round, your present was from Nancy and Jeff and when you opened it you smiled and laughed when it was a wine pairing book.

“You’re going to try and educate me yet.” You joked. “Thank you.”

In the second round, you received a gift bag with bath bombs and body scrubs from Taylor and Jeff opened up some silly daily calendar that Taylor had helped you pick out. The third round you got some new nail polishes from Nancy and she opened the wine ice cubes that you had gotten for her. You continued around the room a few more times until you reached the final round. Taylor opened a romper you had picked out for her while she was in the bathroom and she immediately insisted she would have to go try it on as soon as you were done. Jakob opened a pair of swim trunks, he had complained about his old ones pretty much as soon as you arrived, and while he laughed his eyes met yours silently communicating that you had already given him the best gift just by being his.

As his mom leaned over to hand you your last present, Jakob slid another one on top of it causing his family to raise their eyebrows.

“Open the big one first.” He insisted and when you tore off the paper and opened the box, inside you found exactly what you had been expecting. Your fingers pulled the maroon fabric from the box and your heart beat faster as you examined the name and number. It had been so long since you’d worn one of Jakob’s jerseys and you absolutely couldn’t wait to put it on.

“Thank you.” You breathed, trying not to cry as you leaned over to hug him quickly. He was smiling, but you could feel that he was nervous about the other package as you tore through the paper. With the paper tossed to the floor, you found yourself holding a small jewelry box. Glancing over at him you watched as he rubbed the back of his neck. Popping the lid to the box open, you revealed a small metal ring in the shape of a knot. With your breath caught from the statement he was making, you looked over at him again.

“I uh...I thought your ring finger might be feeling a little bare.” He whispered. “It’s uh...it’s a promise ring, a promise to help you heal, a promise to explore everything we’ve both been feeling for so long, and a promise to someday replace this one with both a proper engagement ring and a wedding band so that that jersey will be your last name and not just mine.” You choked back a sob at everything that tiny band symbolized, trying to speak but unable to find words. “I got you a chain too..you know in case you aren’t ready to wear it as a ring…” He added.

Finally, the simplest of phrases flew forth.

“It’s perfect, J.” Offering him the box, you held your left hand out for him to slide the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly and unlike your engagement ring which had never really felt like you, this looked like it was meant to be there.

Laying your left hand onto his cheek, you leaned over again, pressing your lips to his in the sweetest of kisses. It wasn’t until you pulled away that you realized the show you’d just put on for his formerly in the dark family who was currently staring at the two of you from their spots around the living room.

You honestly didn’t know what to say to them so when Nancy stood, beckoning you forward so that she could see the ring you felt your breath settle back into your chest.

“Oh honey, it’s beautiful.” She exclaimed, her arms wrapping around your body in a secure hug.

“Thank you.” You murmured. “Just thank you.” There weren’t enough words to express all that you were thankful for. For bringing the man you were falling in love with into the world, for insisting you come on this trip, for being so supportive even when you knew there were a lot of unanswered questions.

“Of course...you’re family now aren’t you.” She smiled and at that moment you knew that this was what you wanted forever.

Christmas truly was the most wonderful time of the year because it reunited you with the love of your life and expanded your heart with the love of his entire family. As Nancy and Taylor worked to serve breakfast, Jakob pulled you into his arms, kissing you once again as he dipped you in front of the Christmas tree. And like the photos in Nancy’s albums, that was a picture you would look back on and smile, a picture that would hang on the wall for years to come in your home together.

#jakob chychrun #jakob chychrun imagine #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes imagine #jakob chychrun nws #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nws #lemon #036 #hockey christmas in july

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